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prinxlyart · 4 years

Note

just any individual toh character hc would SLAP. mebbe ur thoughts on the twins idk this is vague

Nah it’s cool, I can dig it let’s do this

I only put this under a line break cuz it got so long oops lol

Emira:

Defo has a stutter that she went through a lot of intensive and grueling speech therapy sessions for (when she was about 7 years old) that she hated. Amity and Edric both know this and know it’s a sensitive topic for her. They’ll tease her lightly about it, but never in front of anyone else and they know where to draw the line. In my last Vinera post, I mentioned how much Viney adores her stutter. She absolutely loves getting Emira flustered enough to start stuttering. She’s incredibly patient and understanding when it comes to Emira’s stutter and Em’s feelings about her stutter, and she helps Emira learn to be okay with it again. It’s nothing to be ashamed of (and it’s cute).

My girl likes carrots. Like, really likes carrots. As in she’ll eat them straight out of the ground if she’s given a chance to wash it first. She really loves carrots. This is only an issue later on after she and Viney start taking care of beasts together and Emira’s been caught eating their entire stock of carrots that’s meant for the beasts. Viney has to keep the carrots in a secret box away from Emira after that point.

Emira actually really loves beasts/animals but has never been good at handling them. Any time she’d try to approach an animal to pet it, it would try to bite her. She’d get extremely pouty whenever this happens because beasts/animals love Edric. It’s not until after she and Viney start dating that Viney actually starts teaching her how to approach different creatures and her love for creatures reignites.

Emira’s a giant pushover for Amity. Only Edric knows this because he’s also a pushover for her. If Amity ever found out what power she actually holds over them, they’d be in so much trouble. They mask their love for their sister with constant teasing. Yes of course they get annoyed by her, that’s how siblings are, especially when Amity tattles on them, but at the end of the day, they’d help Amity hide the body if she asked. (The few times they witnessed her crying by someone other than their parents, they had gone on a warpath. Nobody hurts Mittens.)

Defo had a brief infatuation with Luz for like 5 minutes before she realized how head-over-heels Amity was. As long as they’re both happy, that’s what matters. She’ll take that secret to her grave though.

L O V E S having her hair played with, but like, only with people she’s super comfortable with. She has so much hair (mostly due to her mother’s wishes) and any time they all have attend some fancy gathering, Emira has to be seen by a stylist in order to get all her hair into whatever wild fancy shape her mom wants for the event. That she hates more than life itself, but whenever she’s upset, Edric or Amity grabs her hair brush and just gently brushes her hair out until she’s chill again. (She absolutely melts when Viney starts playing with her hair). In an act of defiance and because she needed this Change, the moment she and her siblings leave the Blight Manor permanently, she cuts off all of her hair. It’s very reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday. Viney loves it. Everyone loves it actually, but the biggest reactions come from Viney and Luz (they both love running their fingers through the newly cut hair because it’s so soft).

She likes to sing to herself when she’s alone. It’s rare that it ever happens because if she knows there’s other people in the same building as her, she won’t chance it. But when she knows she’s alone and no one will notice if she casts a silence bubble around herself so she can sing at the top of her lungs? You better believe she closes any doors or curtains in the area, locks everything, casts that spell and goes nuts. Her voice isn’t all that great, but it’s lovely when she’s singing quietly to herself while she does homework or something. On especially bad nights, Amity will ask her to sing to her. Emira sang to her once when they were like, 3 and 5 respectively, and it’s been their secret thing ever since for especially rough nights/nightmares.

Edric:

Yknow how James from Pokémon is just super good with Pokémon ?? Like, he knows how to treat them, he knows what they like, he asks them gently if they’d like to join them, etc. That’s exactly how Edric approaches creatures. He’s a natural with them, but he and his sister’s natural affinity for illusion magic kept him from pursuing that track of magic.

He’s always wanted a pet, but every time he brings it up to his parents, he’s met with the same firm No as always. He’s definitely gotten in trouble for trying to sneak wild creatures into the house to keep in his room. Thank Titan for Em’s cool new girlfriend who’s not only a multi-track student, but studying the exact subject he wants to study and is super eager to teach him everything she knows. He learns vicariously through her and helps her study for her tests. At first, Emira is suspicious of them, but she knows her brother wouldn’t be so cruel as to try to steal her girlfriend away from her. He’s just a dork.

My boy’s got a sweet tooth. He loves desserts and sweets and fluffy baked goods and often tries to sneak candies when he thinks no one is looking. Chocolate is a big weakness for him. When Luz introduces him to Human Sweets, he’s practically bouncing off the walls. Cotton candy??????? Flan?????? Dulce de Leche en Tabla??? He nearly passes out when Luz busts out what she calls a “chocolate fountain” and turns it on. Y’all remember that one image of a bird bathing in a chocolate fountain from a million years ago? That’s Edric.

Edric Blight LIVES to see his sisters laugh. He would pull all sorts of silly faces and dumb tricks to make Amity laugh when they were little. He still tries to make her laugh, but usually those have grown from giggles to disgruntled mumbling. He’ll never admit how much it breaks his heart and it’s not until he sees her laughing at something Luz has done that he has hope he may still be able to get her to laugh again (it’s also the first time he’s heard her laugh in years and it makes his heart soar in relief. He was almost certain their parents had stamped any concept of laughter out of her).

My boy Edric is so full of love and passion; actually quite similarly to Luz. What makes them different though is that Edric is Aromantic. He’s never had a crush in his life. He’s happy with his sisters and all of their friends and their family as it grows in the future. He has some best friends that he lives with for a while (after his sisters move in with their respective partners), but for the most part he’s chill. He loves his family, he loves spoiling his sisters’ kids, and he’s content with himself. It takes him a super long time to be content with himself, but he gets there. I will literally never get over the fact that his biggest fear is “being alone forever”. He’s never alone. He will always have his friends and family. And, thanks in large part to Luz, he has his parents back. His parents that actually were excited when he cast his first spell and tucked him in at night when he was a toddler, giving him kisses goodnight and pleasant dreams. Not the parents he’d run away from; those were the cold, uncaring, obsessed with fake concepts of popularity and status people he ran away from with his sisters. It took years, but Luz helped bring his real parents back. He loves getting to know them for who they are now that he’s an adult too.

He and Gus become best friends. Like, dumb buddy cop movie levels of best friends. They get into so much trouble when it’s just the two of them and they have the time of their lives. At first, he and Em just sort of took Gus under their wing because he was a little bit of an outcast in their homeroom for being so much younger than everyone else. But he’s a friend of Luz’s and a friend of Amity’s after a while, which automatically makes him cool in their book. They soon find themselves actually enjoying his company, rather than just protecting him from stray bullies, and they find his ability with illusion magic exciting. They themselves are considered prodigies so having another prodigy to show off practice with is super stimulating for all of them. As the years go on (and Emira spends more time with Viney) Edric starts calling more and more often for “Bro Time” where they go do stupid teenage stuff or test the limits of their magic or even just hang out and talk for hours. It’s actually all this time hanging out with just Gus that Edric discovers he’s aro; somehow it comes out that Gus has developed a crush on Edric and (major age differences aside) Edric realizes he’s never had a crush on anyone before. It’s a conversation that sucks a lot, but they’re besties and they manage to get through it. Gus maybe needs to take a day with his original gal pals to just cry about it, but he gets over it just fine. He also helps Edric understand what it means to be aromantic. Well, with the help of Luz and Willow as well; Luz is a walking dictionary for lgbt terminology and Willow’s super good at helping dissect feelings (when they’re not her own cough’outofsightoutofmind’cough).

I genuinely don’t know what he might pursue for a career. Part of me wants him to be independent and do his own thing, but a much stronger part of me wants him to just be part of Viney as Emira’s business. He loves creatures so much and he loves taking care of them, but I don’t want him to feel like a third wheel around his twin sister either. Maybe he becomes a dual track teacher at Hexside specifically for healing and beast keeping so more students can learn about Service Creatures. He can substitute for the Illusion track homeroom when needed, but he’s super passionate about the Service Creature sub-track he and Viney pitch to Principal Bump.

#prinxly inquiries #anonymous #the owl house #emira blight #edric blight #toh headcanons #I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings about these two

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jisungffs · 3 years

Text

coffee breath - felix.

words: 5.1k

reader: gender-neutral

genre: fluff

tags: best friend!felix x aromantic!reader, coffeeshop au, non idol! au, implied lgbtq!felix, minho is a minor character, minsung is mentioned. this whole thing is strictly platonic, none of this is meant to be romantic. just a cute fluffy fic honestly. the end has a little tension but not a lot.

warnings: THIS WHOLE THING IS PLATONIC, DON’T READ IF YOU WANT ROMANCE, swearing, multiple descriptions of food.

requested by @aritodla, check her out, she’s an amazing artist and a really sweet person overall.

Lee Felix was a sweet boy. He had kind eyes, freckled cheeks, and an air of infectious happiness around him. He always tipped generously, he never got angry at the staff, and he always cleaned up after himself. Lee Felix was a sweet boy. And it was a shame all you knew about him was his first name and his coffee order.

Even though Felix only started visiting your coffee shop a few weeks ago, you could tell he was a genuinely nice person. Everything about him was lovable.

Like the way he always said thank you after you took his order.

Or like the way he gripped his coffee cup with both his hands when the weather was cold.

Or the way he had a billion stickers on his laptop, adding a new one every week.

Or the way his eyebrows furrowed when he wrote something down..

Or the way he nodded along when he heard music he liked.

Lee Felix was a sweet boy. And even though you didn’t know much about him, you really wanted to. Because Lee Felix was sunshine. And you were in need of warmth.

It was a sunny day — one where it was warm enough to find solace in cafes and under the awnings of fashion stores, but not warm enough to make you want to curse out everything around you. The perfect weather, really. It was on this day that Lee Felix decided to wear his Twice t-shirt. It was barely noticeable — just a little white logo on the breast. It looked like a regular black tee from a distance. But you noticed. Because not only did you want to get to know Felix, you were also a huge fan of Twice.

Felix gave you his usual order of a cappuccino and a chocolate scone and went back to his seat. Felix liked Twice! You wondered who his bias was. Or what his favourite song was. It was really cool that Felix liked Twice right? You finally had something in common.

You drew a little Twice logo on the coffee foam. You didn’t even realize it. It was pretty usual for you to draw about what’s on your mind, and your cafe didn’t exactly have strict rules about foam art.

Felix was once again on his laptop today. You could recognize the colourful sticker-covered laptop from a mile away. His brows furrowed as he typed away, only getting up to collect his order. He was back in his seat and was about to continue whatever he was doing when he noticed the logo on his coffee, drawn on foam. His eyes widened slightly, his mouth broke into a grin. You noticed him getting his phone out and taking a picture before you had to attend to other customers.

It was a windy night. Felix was already in the cafe by the time your shift started, and was peacefully nibbling on a muffin while doing something on his laptop. His eyes never left the laptop screen. He checked his phone from time to time, but never spent more than a few seconds on it. From the looks of it, he was unaware of everything outside his screen and his table.

The closing shift never had a lot of customers. It was just Felix, you, and a couple of regulars in the little cafe.

And the regulars had already left by the time you were done cleaning up. It was five minutes until closing time, and Felix was still there, probably not knowing he was the last one there. You knew you had to tell him he had to leave soon, but you didn’t know exactly what to say. You weren’t the best at the closing shift.

You approached his seat awkwardly. “Excuse me…? Sir…?”, you said tentatively before gently tapping on the table.

Felix jumped slightly at the interruption. He quickly looked around the cafe. “Oh”, he said smally, “Am I the last one here?”

“Yes, and the cafe’s closing soon”, you said with a patient customer service smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t even realise”, he laughed. “I was working on some music and I guess I got carried away”

“Well,”, you struggled to find something to say,” If you like to sing, we have live music on Fridays”

What was that??? Who says that??

“I’ll keep that in mind”, he laughed, shutting the tabs on his laptop.

His phone screen played the Fancy MV, connected to headphones lying on the table. He was probably streaming it, and your mind raced at the conversation starter.

“You’re streaming Fancy!”, you said without thinking. You immediately cursed yourself for not spending more time thinking about what to say. He barely knows you, for god’s sake.

Felix didn’t seem to mind. “You like Twice?” Felix said with raised eyebrows and a goofy grin.

“I do”, you replied, mirroring his grin, “Chaeyoung’s my bias.”

Felix's eyes widened. “Wait a second!”, he said, “Were you the barista who drew the logo on my coffee yesterday?”

“That was me!”, you said laughing.

---

It was a sunny day - the kind where you technically could go out, but it was just a lot more comfortable staying inside. You started mixing Felix's drink as soon as he came to the counter. Felix looked pleasantly surprised. “Guess I don’t have to order anymore”

“I mean,” you said with your eyebrows raised, “You do have to try other drinks at some point, you know? You’ve ordered the a cappuccino and a chocolate scone everytime you came here, and they’re not even that good”

“Hey!” he cry-laughed. “Don’t you dare say that about my cappuccino.”

“By the way,” you added, “I think you’ll like the music today”

Felix raised his eyebrows. His lips quirked up when he realised a lo-fi playlist of Twice songs played through the speakers.

It was an average day -- the awkward phase between afternoon and evening, the weather so ordinary there was nothing to comment about it. Felix shaked his head as he reached the counter and saw you start to make his drink. “Oh I’m not having that today”

You raised your eyebrows, “Oh?”

“Yeah”, Felix said, fixing his posture and smirking. “I’ll have a black coffee, please”, he said in an over dramatic voice.

“Brave today, are we?”

“Yes, and” he said like a child boasting about his most recent tag game, “I won’t add any sugar to it”

“Oh boy”, you sighed, shaking your head.

Five minutes later, Felix’s (black) coffee was ready. Five and a half minutes later, Felix’s black coffee was at his table. You watched as he took his first sip. His entire face scrunched up at the bitter taste. He noticed you looking at him. He gave you a thumbs-up, still wearing the most pained expression known to man. Felix should not drink black coffee.

It was a windy day, the thick grey clouds above threatening to spill over during the night. Felix apparently wanted to prove a point, seeing as he once again ordered a black coffee (no sugar).

“But you hated it yesterday!”

“Clearly you didn’t see the thumbs up”

“Yeah, I was too busy looking at the agony on your face”

He pouted, “But I want a black coffee~”

You sighed. “This will be your villain origin story”.

Not surprisingly, Felix had the same expression of disgust as soon as the black coffee touched his lips. Still not surprisingly, he kept up the cool-edgy-guy-who-drinks-black-coffee schtick.

It was a cool yet humid day - the most polarising weather possible. It was a lonely afternoon with hardly any customers in the coffee shop. It was a weekday afternoon, after all. Felix came into the store wearing a black hoodie and a smug grin.

“Please don't tell me you want a black coffee”, you said even before he fully got to the counter. The boy clearly hated the bitterness, but wanted to prove a point anyway.

“Hey, this was your idea!”, he laughed.

“We have more than cappuccinos and black coffee, buddy. We don’t have to go into the extremes right away”

“Well I’m hoping that if I keep drinking the black coffee, I’ll get used to the disgustingness.”

You shook your head and laughed. “Tell you what,” you clapped your hands together, an idea hitting you. “I’ll play around with some ingredients and make you something I think you’ll like.”

“Ohhhh”, Felix said. "That sounds fun"

"Yes and maybe it'll help me add drinks to the menu too", you grinned.

"I shall not show you mercy, O worthy opponent". Felix spoke with a British accent, bowing to add some flair.

You played around with steamed milk, vanilla syrup, espresso, chocolate powder, and sugar. Plus whipped cream for good measure. A few minutes later, the drink was ready. Felix came up to the counter and looked at the drink in mock apprehension.

"I call it the Felixir", you said, . "Get it? Like Elixir?"

Felix let out a laugh.

“I know. It’s dumb. But!”, you said, "I played around with a bunch of stuff I know you like. It has chocolate, espresso, whipped cream and some other stuff. I have no idea how it tastes, but my barista senses told me this would be nice".

"I trust your barista senses". Felix took a sip of the Felixir. Whipped cream made a button on his nose. Felix's lips curved into a smile. His half-moon smile shined through. "Your barista senses rock", he said, punching the air.

"Do you like it?"

"I LOVE it. I don't know how you got my favourite ingredients so spot on."

You laughed. "Barista instincts, my friend".

Felix took another sip, holding the cup with both hands.

"Anyway," you continued, "this one's on the house. You deserve it for enduring the black coffee".

"This is so much better than black coffee", he babbled. "Black coffee has so much caffeine in it?? I was practically vibrating all of yesterday".

"Black coffee is for people with a lot of shit to do and not enough energy to do them", you agreed. "This one has espresso too, and also a shit-ton of sugar, so you might still vibrate today, just letting you know."

"I'll take being a popular kid's iPhone if it means I can have whipped cream and caramel and the other stuff".

It was a sunny day. Ladies in sundresses waited for their dates outside the cafe.

“Not a lot of people here, huh?” Felix commented.

“It’s a weekday afternoon, what do you expect? Only teenagers on their lunch breaks come here. And you, for some reason”

“How could I stay away from my favourite barista?”

You rolled your eyes. “Since you’re here anyway, let’s talk. I’m bored.” Was that too blunt?

“Cool, what do you wanna talk about?”

“The meaning of life, God, or Twice. You pick”

“Trick question, Twice is God and the meaning of life”

“You’re too smart”

Felix stroked his hair back, “I know”

You roll your eyes. “What are your favourite songs by them?”

“Literally their entire discography, but Fancy or TT if I had to choose”

“Fuck yeah. Those songs are queens”

Felix looks at you approvingly. “We should hang out sometime”

It was a clear day. Trees danced around in the wind. Another afternoon where there was hardly anyone in the little coffee shop. Felix ordered his Felixir once again with a cheery tone. You spent some time cleaning up the kitchen and rearranging the items on display. Felix was waiting near the counter once you got done, absent-mindedly checking his phone. He put down his phone and gave you a bright smile when he noticed you coming back.

You smiled back. “What’s the occasion, bub?”

“Nothing, I’m just a little bored and I wanted to hang out with you”

“Well, there aren’t a lot of customers so I guess that works out perfectly”

“How’s your day going so far?”

“It’s pretty boring, to be honest. Maybe I’ll watch a movie when I get home. My shift ends in like half an hour.”

“Whaaat? I was planning to watch a movie too! I live right upstairs, actually”

“Really? That explains why you’re always here”, you laughed.

Felix laughed back. “I have nothing to do today”. Felix gave you an expectant look.

Oh.

“Me neither”, you said casually. “Do you think we should watch something together?”

“Yes!” He giggled. “I know I’m not the best with invites, but I’m glad you picked that up”

“Honestly, I’m surprised I got that. I’m really awkward with invites too”

“More reasons to be friends, then”

“We live closer than I thought, by the way. I live across the street. It’s a five-minute walk.”

That afternoon was a pleasant one. Breeze played with the little children on the street. Felix and you were sprawled on the couch, mindlessly watching the trashy movie on TV. An orange cat ㅡ his roommate’s apparently ㅡ decided to laze around on Felix’s lap, his hand absentmindedly stroking its soft fur.

“Why are early 2000s movies so much more dramatic than they need to be?” Felix commented.

“Right? I remember watching this as a kid and it wasn’t half as bad”, you replied

“So it’s true then. Adulthood only makes things go downhill”

“Hey now you’re the one being dramatic”

“Wrong, I’m always dramatic”

“Your apartment is pretty nice, by the way.”

“Thank you. You’re free to come over whenever”

“Won’t your roommate mind?”

“Not really. Minho’s out most of the time and he brings over his friends all the time too.”

You smiled. “Hey also,”, you said. “Since we live pretty close by, we can hang out at my place some time too!”

“That sounds great”, he smiled widely.

It was a cool day. Most of your patrons huddled themselves in hoodies and cardigans. Felix ordered his drink before giving you a curious look. “Did you come to the cafe yesterday?”

“No, I didn’t have a shift. why?” you asked, slightly thrown off.

“Oh that explains it”, he said, “I came in yesterday and you weren’t there. The other barista didn’t know how to make my drink. Or even what it was, actually. And," he paused, "I missed talking to you”

An embarrassing smile crept up your face. “That’s so sweet”, you said, barely audible.

Felix was about to walk back to his table when you said “Hey actually,”

Felix turned around.

“I downloaded a really awful movie yesterday. Wanna make fun of it together at my place?” you said, just a little hint of nervousness in your voice. “My shift ends soon. But like, you don’t have to if you’re busy or something, we can always-”

“I’d love to,” he smiled.

The evening was breezy as you and Felix laughed over the hilariously, excruciatingly bad movie. Felix and you bonded very fast, apparently. Felix was resting his head on your shoulder. It felt so… natural. It was effortless. And comfortable. It was as though your bodies just did what felt familiar to them. You felt Felix’s body shake every time he laughed. You added sarcastic retorts every now and then, Felix joining too. The movie was terrible. But this moment with Felix was beautiful.

It was a breezy summer day, about a month after Felix came over.

Loving Felix was easy. It was second nature. Felix just clicked with you. The line between friends and best friends blurred quickly. And based on how much he spammed you with messages and how much he visited the cafe and how diligently he memorized your schedule and how many times you hung out, he loved you too.

Your phone buzzed.

felix:

are we doing anything today?

maybe

im in the mood for hot dogs i think

oooooo should we go to the park then?

yes !!

after my shift sounds good?

yesss

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

You used to find those emoticons cringey until Felix started using them. Now, it was just fucking adorable.

(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

The park was a few streets away. It was a big one. Preteens ran around and played frisbee with their friends or their dogs or their parents. But the two of you luckily found a park bench ever-so-slightly away from the noise and the chaos.

As you sat there talking about nothing and everything, you quietly took in Felix's features. His skin was radiant in the setting sun. His freckles, darker from the sunlight, looked like little flecks of chocolate. His eyes lit up whenever he talked about music. Or cooking. Or you. His cheeks rose and fell with his words, his eyes crinkling up when he smiled.

It was a beautiful moment. You lay your head on Felix's shoulder, half lost in thought. The sun painted the park in a subtle shade or orange. The kids around the park laughed and jumped, being loud and being kids. Felix had stopped talking by then, too busy taking in the sunset. His head rested on yours, your hands almost touching. It was a beautiful moment. But moments with Felix were always beautiful.

It was a cold night. You snuggled into your blankets, intently watching something on your phone.

Your phone buzzed. Felix sent you a meme.

you:

???????? why are you awake

it's 2am

go to sleep

why are YOU awake ????????

im watching something 👉👈

im just reading fics and stuff akdkkdj

what kind of fics 👀

they're fluffy stop making everything dirty

i can't stop me (by twice)

sjskksksjjd

oh also

do you make the brownies and stuff?

or is that someone else

in the cafe i mean

that's me babeyyyy

why tho

i like them :D

:"D

baking w you would be fun 🥺

🥺🥺🥺

im good at baking

and so are you

but maybe we should yeet away the recipes and do whatever

baking is supposed to be precise tho :(

if it fails we eat the cookie dough and erase the whole thing from our memory

nice

i mean

im supposed to be precise with the cafe stuff too but the Felixir wouldn't exist if i followed the rules

now you're getting it

when are we doing this?

buddy

we live five minutes from each other

just come over whenever

fuck planning

im *this* close to straight up giving you my keys

me too tf

hell yeah

also this isn't distracting me from the fact that you need to sleep soon

i feel kinda sleepy actually ngl

sleep.

okay 👉👈

gn !! ily

and please sleep soon aksndn

ily2

okay :]

It was a clear, pleasant afternoon, your curtains swaying in the breeze. The smell of freshly made cookies wafted through your apartment. Felix sat on top of your counter, his legs swinging. Felix took one of the newly-made cookies into his hand and regarded it intently. “Looks pretty good so far. It’s a little bit hard but that’s obvious, we added a lot of ingredients and didn’t adjust the flour properly”

“So much for experimentation”

“We did add a lot of fun stuff though, so my money’s on it tasting good”.

You both bit into a cookie. It was… alright. It wasn’t bad, but you expected it to taste a lot better or a lot worse. You both gave each other disappointed smiles. “Underwhelming.”

“But hey! It wasn’t bad!” Felix added.

“True. Still thought the cookies would be more… more. You know?”

“I know. But who cares about that?” Felix put his arm on your shoulder, “Making this with you was the most fun I had in a while and I couldn't care less what they ended up tasting like.”

You let out a small smile. “I love you”

“And I love you”

You looked up at him. His soft brown eyes were warm with affection.

“Now,” Felix continued, “The cookie dough’s gotta be better right?”

You laughed. “The cookie dough is chocolate sludge at this point”

“Yeah, maybe using M&Ms as chocolate chips was a bit much”

“Probably. But let’s race. Whoever finds the most M&Ms in the dough wins.”

“I already know I’m winning”.

It was a drizzly night. Streetlights reflected on the wet asphalt outside Felix’s apartment. Felix and you had decided to have an impromptu sleepover. It was almost 3am, both of you slightly delirious from the caffeine and the staying up. You were yelling at the TV, desperately trying to get your character to do something, damn it. Felix just smirked beside you, his character easily attacking yours. He was choosing not to kill you quickly, which was almost more annoying than dying straight away. It wasn’t long before Felix won the game. You pouted in annoyance.

“Maybe I should start killing you quickly so you won’t be loud and Minho won’t yell at us for making noise”

“This game sucks”, you pouted.

“You’re just new to it. Did you know you can do twice as much damage if you press B after you attack?”

“Really?”

“Yeah! And do you know how to dodge?”

“No” you said like a kid admitting to breaking something.

“Why did you make me skip the tutorial?”, Felix laughed.

“The past is in the past, Felix. How do I dodge?”

Felix spent a few minutes teaching you which buttons do what and which attacks are effective when. It only took a few slightly frustrating runs before you almost came close to beating him. Maybe he was going easy on you, but that didn’t matter. It was fun.

“You are learning, my protégé”, he said approvingly.

It was a chilly evening. Old white sheets lay spread out on your bedroom floor, your furniture haphazardly moved to the living room. Felix had texted you earlier that day, promising to help you paint your room. You were almost done painting half a wall when you heard his familiar deep voice. “Hey! Missed you.”

“Missed you more”, you smiled.

“What do you need me to do? How may I be of assistance?” he curtsied.

You rolled your eyes. “Just grab a paint brush and do that wall over there. Just make sure it's even and don’t get any on your clothes.”

“You say that with a million paint splatters on you”, he laughed.

Felix got to work. Neither of you really talked. It seemed that Felix was lost in thought, letting his hands do the painting. But it was fine. Because moments with Felix were always beautiful, even the silences.

You were finished with your first wall when you decided to play calm music on your phone. Soothing guitar chords filled the silence.

It was hard to keep track of time. Five songs? Six songs? Maybe an hour? Both of you had made a lot of progress with the walls. It didn’t matter. What did matter was Felix. Halfway through the third or fourth song, you noticed Felix singing to himself.

It was barely audible, he probably wasn’t even aware of it. But his voice was soothing. And soft.

You had never heard him sing before. You wished you did. You could listen to it forever. Felix’s singing voice felt like sweaters and cozy winter days.

You didn’t say anything. You knew he’d be embarrassed if he knew you noticed. But the rest of the painting session gave you butterflies, to say the least.

It was a chilly day. Felix was hunched over his stovetop making ramen while you dramatically read out a fanfic to him from the table. You just finished the kissing scene when Felix let out a disappointed sigh.

“I know right?” You commented.

“I don’t get it. Don’t you think they’d make way more sense as just friends?”

“Waaaay more sense. I feel like the kiss scene is just so unnecessary.”

“I don’t get why writers think everything should have romance in it. I mean, love is friendship right? I mean, for me, it is.”

Your heart stopped. A smile crept up your face. You continued reading out the fanfic, but you didn’t focus on it at all. Because Felix said love is friendship. Love is friendship. Love is friendship!

It was a cold night. You were all bundled up in bed with a hoodie and a blanket. Felix was on the phone with you, refusing to hang up despite being half-asleep.

“Seriously Felix, you can’t even keep your eyes open”

“Mm. But I want to talk to you”, he yawned. His half-asleep voice was deeper than usual and very quiet.

“Alright bub. What do you want to talk about?” You started to feel sleepy too.

“I don’t know. Maybe how amazing you are?”

You laughed. “Fuck off”

“No but… your hair is so soft. And your coffee is really good. And you’re awesome. What the heck. I love you.” he said. He spoke slowly. You could tell he was almost asleep.

“I love you too you beautiful bastard”

You were met with the sounds of soft breathing.

Felix was very endearing when he was half-asleep.

It was a rainy day, rain knocking against Felix’s living room windows. Felix shared a blanket with you atop the couch. You leaned on Felix, your head on his chest. His heartbeat synced with the rain on the window. Felix’s arm draped your side. Both of you focused on the movie in front of you. It was a good one so far. The plot was well written, and the actors were doing a good job.

A door creaked open behind you. Felix and you turned to look at the source.

Felix's roommate, Minho entered the living room. He looked well dressed in a leather jacket and chunky black boots. "Do you think Jisung will like the jacket?", he asked Felix.

"He's gonna love it", Felix replied, smirking.

“Alright, I gotta go”, Minho said, picking up his umbrella and walking to the door. He looked at you. “Sorry we couldn’t talk today, y/n, but have fun with your boyfriend”.

He was already out the door before either of you could protest. Felix looked at you awkwardly before turning back to the TV. Felix was not your boyfriend. And clearly he wasn’t very comfortable being called that. To be fair, neither were you.

“I’m sorry about him”, he sighed. Both of you looked everywhere but each other.

“Don’t be," you said, “ I know people think we’re dating because we’re comfortable with each other and stuff.”

“Right. But hey, you’re my best friend and you always will be.”

You smiled. “You too”.

It was nice being best friends with Felix. Everytime you’ve been this close with someone, they all seemed to expect more. They all seemed to expect romance. But that just didn’t work for you. Romance was weird.

You’re my best friend and you always will be.

Felix wouldn’t mind, would he? Probably not. But what if he’s mad you didn’t tell him yet? What if he thinks you don’t trust him? Or maybe his whole view on you will change and maybe he won’t like you after that. What if that happens?

You’re my best friend and you always will be.

You’re his best friend and you always will be. It’ll be alright. It’ll be harder the longer you wait right?

What if he really will be mad at you though? He’s your best friend, why haven’t you told him yet?

A mere few seconds passed before you shifted off his chest. Felix sat up, sensing your tension. He paused the movie. "Y/N?"

Fuck it. It’s too late to ignore this now. You looked into his eyes before turning away. “I’ve been holding off on telling you something.”

Felix’s voice filled with concern. “Tell me.”

You took a breath, trying to keep yourself from panicking. You were too nervous to look at him. “Minho joked about us being together and I know neither of us see each other in a romantic way, but I just… I don’t know why I haven’t told you this yet. But… it’s not just you. I don’t feel romantic attraction to anyone. I’m aromantic.”

Felix put his hand on your shoulder and moved closer to you. Your thoughts were still racing, your heart rate still high, your breath still shaky. You were still too nervous to look at him.

You kept going, “I haven’t told you this. I know. And I’m sorry. But you’re still my best friend and I hope you don’t think I don’t trust you or something. I love you, okay? I just… I guess I just don’t like coming out. But I just had to today for some reason. I’m sorry if this makes you view me differently.” You thoughts were still racing after you said what you wanted to say. Your hands shook slightly.

And Felix noticed all of that.

He put his hand on top of yours. “Y/N”, he said gently.

You hesitated, then looked at him. His eyes were warm. His smile was understanding - the smile of someone who’s done this before. The smile of someone who’s already dealt with the emotions you were having. He gently pushed your head back onto his chest. “Breathe with me.”

His chest raised as he took a breath. You closed your eyes and took a breath too. He let it out in a few seconds. So did you. He took in another breath.

Felix spoke softly. “Coming out is hard. Even if it’s to someone you love. What you just did there takes so much courage. And I’m so, so proud of you. I love you so much. And our love doesn’t have to be romantic for it to be deep. I love you. And nothing will change that.”

You buried yourself in his chest.

His chest rose and fell with every breath he took. You breathed with him. His heartbeat was calming.

I love you. And nothing will change that.

“Thank you.” you said. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Felix?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it weird?”, you said quietly, “That we’re always so close together? I really like being with you. And hugging you. And cuddling you. But I won’t do it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No. It’s not weird. Not to me. I love this. And we can do this all day long without it meaning anything more than friendship.” Felix gave you a forehead kiss. “Besides,” he said, “What good are best friends if they don’t give you hugs?”

You hugged him tighter. “I love you so much”

“I love you so much too.” His voice was warm and kind and understanding. You didn’t bother holding back the tears.

Lee Felix was a sweet boy. And Lee Felix was the sun, giving you warmth and love and reasons to wake up. Lee Felix was a sweet boy. And the universe was a thing of beauty to let your love shine through.

a/n: this took a really long time to write bc of personal stuff im sorry, but this req made me realize i was aromantic skaskdlkdlk :’D. remember my requests are open so feel free to request stuff from me and i’ll try not to take eight years to do it. take care yall

#felix #felix x reader #felix x male #felix x gender neutral reader #skz x reader #skz x male #skz fics #best friend!felix #best friend fic #felix fluff #aromantic #coming out #coffeeshop au #skz #stray kids #skz fluff

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wp-blaze · 2 hours

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Uncover Deception and Danger: ONE: A Novel by Carolyn Bowen

Looking for your next thrilling read? Look no further than “ONE: A Novel” by Carolyn Bowen. From May 16th to 23rd, you can get this gripping thriller for just $1.99, so mark your calendars and don’t miss out on this limited-time offer! “One” follows the story of Sydney, a determined and capable lawyer, as she […]

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that-was-anticlimactic · 3 years

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📂 hmmm let's see... how about Toph?

aw Toph Beifong, how I love you,

Okay. So. First:

Obviously, Toph can tell when people are lying, but much like how the gaang always forgets that she’s blind, they forget that she’s a living lie detector. After the war ends, the kiddos are all obviously traumatized and always ask each other how they’re doing and they usually always say “fine” and Toph can feel that they’re lying but she just... doesn’t do anything. Sometimes it’s obvious a person is lying, but sometimes they can really pull it off and Toph is the only one who knows. She just lets them be, though, because she would want to be left alone too. In her mind, if it was a big enough deal, they wouldn’t say that they’re fine (also because that’s the reasoning she gives herself to not talk about her problems). She doesn’t want to push them.

Eventually, and let’s use Aang here because poor kid suffers so much trauma and no one really talks about that much (myself included, I need to pay more attention to Aang), Aang’s mental health really starts declining and everyone is really worried but Toph always lets it go because she doesn’t want to push him or stress him out. One time, it’s so bad that they ask Toph to out Aang for lying and she just shrugs and says “he wasn’t lying” even though he definitely was.

After a week or two like this, Aang kind of just breaks down and Toph instantly feels guilty because deep down she feels like she could have prevented it, but she didn’t. It’s one of those times when she learns that letting people believe a lie, no matter how good intentions are, is worse and more hurtful than telling the truth.

It kind of starts making her more honest than before. She began by calling everyone out on every little lie until she realized it would probably be better to talk to people in private and I just... mmm... I feel like Toph wields so much power after the war because everyone will always say “I’m fine” and she knows, she knows, they’re lying.

And now for an angsty Toph-related headcanon because I said so:)

Toph’s parents. Mmmm. I have not read the comics and also I heard they were... iffy... so we’re disregarding comics here. Toph’s parents kind of suck. Like, once she talks to them after the war, they treat her like a helpless child again and not the LITERAL HERO she is. She doesn’t live with them, but she wants a relationship with them, even though she physically cannot make her say it out loud. So, eventually she blows up at them and Earthbends and her parents are like “okay, if you’re not a child, then start acting like an adult” and COMPLETELY misread the intention behind what Toph was saying. Ontop of that, they constantly complain about everything to her. Like trivial things. They complain about trivial things to a traumatized child (not to mention they did like nothing during the war smh, they just sat there and were rich). Like, they complain about each other to Toph say all of these things that she never wanted to hear ever and that no parents should actually burden their child with. Eventually she just... stops.

She just never answers letters, never returns to the city, much less the house. And it just... it kills her because she wanted to fix their relationship. She wanted to try and be a family again and she tried. She tried so hard but her parents never pit any effort in.

It was actually Zuko (or Azula...) who kind of made her realize. Like, I’m just gonna say: Sokka and Katara HATE Toph’s parents, like, with a burning passion. Toph offhandedly mentioned some of the terrible things her mom said about her dad and vice versa to the gaang and Katara was about to go give them the biggest lecture they had ever received. Katara lowkey got all mother hen (but sometimes Suki would have to drag her back and be like “you’re smothering her” so Toph wouldn’t feel like Katara was acting like her parents) (and again, Toph would never say it outloud, but she could never think of Katara in that way ever. She’s SUCH a better person than her parents could ever be) and would try and... not be the mother Toph never got to have, but give her the support she never had.

Anyways, Zuko or Azula talk to Toph and are like “take it from one abused child to another, your parents are abusing you” which just confirms the suspicions she had deep down but refused to believe. She was just filled with so much rage because it’s not fair and she was trying so hard but her parents really don’t care about her in the way that they should of and she gave them so many chances to be better but they never took it.

okay so, sadness over, let’s make Toph happy:)

Toph is asexual (and maybe aromantic, unsure as of right now) because I said so:))

Toph takes great pleasure in going to The Jasmine Dragon and just... listening to make sure no one is ever rude to Iroh or any of the other employees ever. If they are, she causes trouble so they can feel ashamed for being mean to people in food service.

no you know what? Am I going too overboard? Yes. Do I care? No. One friendship Toph headcanon for everyone in the gaang.

Aang: Toph and Aang both help remind the other that they’re children because they both forget sometimes. Toph is great at taking Aang away from work and making him take breaks and spend time for himself rather than others. Aang is great at giving Toph the “having friends as a child” experience she never had. He teaches her games he learned from all four nations as a child and sometimes they do really ‘childish’ things like playing bending tag or even like regular tag with each other just because it’s nice.

Katara: oooh the Toph and Katara friendship is one of my favorites in the show. The two are both ridiculously competitive. Like. Out of everyone in the gaang, they are the most competitive (let’s be real, Sokka is too petty and WE NEED TO FOLLOW THE GAMES RULES to be competitive and Zuko just gets angry and rage quits). But eventually, they learn that they’re stronger when they work together and make a competitive truce. So whenever people need to team up for games, they immediately go to each other and they destroy everyone.

Sokka: Sokka and Toph ahhhhh I love them so much. Sokka adopted Toph as his daughter-sister, as in he can’t choose whether he wants to replace her dad and be her dad or be the protective but not overly protective older brother she never had, so he calls himself “father-brother” and everyone hates it, but Sokka was never good at naming things. Also, one time they were really bored, so they decided to try and invent a language that is never spoken, but can be interpreted through Earthbending. Like, different methods of bending meant different things and stuff. It worked... kind of? Sokka likes learning and Toph likes kicking dirt and making people confused about what they were doing. They both have short attention spans, though, so they didn’t get far. They each still remember s=certain things and still talk through it (since Sokka is not an Earthbender, he taps his foot on the ground or kicks dirt a certain way. It’s kind of like morse code, bit different because only Toph can feel the taps).

Suki: Suki Suki Suki I love you! Suki is Toph’s go-to for fake relationships. Like. These two have been in a fake relationship with each other too many times to count. Toph’s parents invite her to a formal event but she needs to bring a date (and also she doesn’t want to go but she wants to repair the relationship)? Suki is her date. Suki needs to attend a royal event because she’s the highest Fire Nation palace guard (because I said so)? Toph comes as her date. A random person is hitting on either of them and they don’t know how to respond without unnecessary violence? Find the other and kiss their face.

Zuko: Zuko and Toph, what a pair. They both find beauty in nature (in different ways, obviously), so they’re walking buddies. They’ve gone on hikes together, like week-long hikes together. They’ll walk around the palace together... sometimes they’ll just sit together in silence because they don’t always need words to be friends.

Azula: (because yes, I am including the three girls): y’all. These two together can scare the entire world. Not just because they are actually insanely powerful, but because they make the most horrific self-deprecating jokes known to man and say it with intense seriousness that everyone has been genuinely worried at some point before they caught on (if it’s serious, they say it as a joke). One time, they both made these depressing jokes at lunch and Aang choked on his food. He didn’t die, but like. He was so unprepared that he choked. What I’m saying is, these two have a really weird relationship that takes place entirely through insults at each other, theirself, and everyone they love.

Ty Lee: Toph was actually scared of Ty Lee at first because of her chi blocking abilities. Not like terrified-scared, but like if you even take one more step towards me I will smash you with a boulder no matter your intentions-scared. Also, Ty Lee was so perky and kind of loud and Toph found that suspicious at first. It wasn’t like an Aang perky or loud, it was like... well, Toph couldn’t explain it (as in, I, op, cannot explain it), but it was a bit overwhelming? And then one time Ty Lee just. randomly visited her at her parents’ house even though they “weren’t friends” and Toph was just ????? but let her come in for dinner anyway because she kind of wanted to see how her parents would react to this peppy girl. Her parents ended up making a kind of snide remark at Toph’s expense during dinner (which was the usual but Toph didn’t realize it was a b u s e) and Ty Lee went off. That’s when Toph knew there were reasons to be terrified of this girl, but she would never be on the receiving end of her fury unless she really deserved it. They have very different family situations, but take pleasure in actually talking about it to each other. Because Ty Lee is a very open person and Toph is not. Toph thinks it’s nice to just let Ty Lee ramble on (kind of like Mai) and Ty Lee thinks Toph gives really good advice and has good insights (plus strives to help her feel more comfortable with her feelings). They become spontaneous buddies and randomly show up at each other’s houses when they’re living at home and it’s just nice.

Mai: last but never least, Mai and Toph! These two. feel for each other. so much. Rich kids, only children, parents who ignore them, ahhhhh, do you smell that? The repression of feelings:) Sometimes, they prefer to just be around each other because everyone else can kind of be overwhelming. They can communicate through few words and they both like throwing things, so they like sparring together a lot, It gives them a chance to throw things with another person who likes throwing things. For them, sparring is like this connection and it’s own method of loving each other (as friends do) and it’s just really nice for both of them.

Okay. I am done. Thank you, Grace, for fueling me.

I love Toph and I don’t give her enough attention.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #atla Headcanons #avatar Headcanons #atla toph #Toph Headcanons #in this house we love and appreciate Toph Beifong #not me making her parents fight to cope with my parent’s divorce lol #no but seriously her parents give me secretly hating each other but being too petty to divorce vibes #Toph angst #and Toph love #zukkaclawthorne #:)

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

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Communication Issues (AT:TTSIMBCMEOAYSFIL)- Chapter Three

Ao3, MasterPost, Chap.1, Chap.2

Relationships: Eventual Romantic Analogince, Romantic Prinxiety, implied background Moceit

Warnings: Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Self-isolation, Arguments, Unintentional Emotional Repression, Body Horror (in the form of Remus being Remus!), swearing, some small descriptions of pain, self-deprecations. There’s some fluff in the middle cuz I’m not pure evil, but this is pretty angsty :3 (I promise it’ll have a happy ending u just gotta wait ok). Remus uses it/its here, and is also aromantic.

Word Count: 8,167

Now, dramatism isn’t one of your functions, so you like to think that you’re being entirely reasonable when you say that you’d rather die than inform your closest friends that you’ve grown to love them a bit more than platonically.

And yet, here they are. Sitting on your couch, in your cluttered room, staring up at you with expectation in their eyes. They’re waiting, Logan. You didn’t actually expect to avoid this forever, did you?

Maybe you did, but it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been wrong.

But you digress: you owe them the explanation they came here for. And as you open your mouth to speak, your voice is not nearly as measured as you’d like it to be.

“As I said before, It was never my intention for you to think I did not want to see you- that is to say, it simply wasn’t feasible, given- well- there were certain complications, you see…”

Virgil narrows his eyes, bemusedly, from his contorted position across the arm and top cushion of your couch.

“What kind of complications?”

You look at the carpet, but it doesn’t offer much visual stimuli. You look up at the ceiling, but the angle makes your neck ache. You settle your eyes on your bookshelf instead, studying the multi-colored covers of novels that span the length of the entire opposite wall.

“...Complicated ones.”

Virgil snorts, a sound that usually has you thinking about just how adorable he can be, but the sound is devoid of humor in its current form.

“Care to elaborate, Teach?” Roman inquires, his legs folded comfortably under himself as he watches you. He’s managed to keep himself pretty still and quiet, though you aren’t sure if that’s attributed to his current restraint or the effects of your room.

You push your glasses up on your nose. They fall back to their original position. You repeat this action almost compulsively.

“It’s foolish- Very foolish. I know this is somewhat hypocritical of me, but I believe it is for the best that I do not burden you with it.”

“You aren’t a burden!” Roman squawks indignantly, in conjunction with Virgil snipping: “We’re well past that, buddy.”

You feel your face heat, embarrassingly enough. You aren’t sure why, but their instant and vehement defensiveness for you is a bit motivating. They… they won’t hate you for it. They might even understand, if you’re willing to be optimistic about this.

“You could call it. Jealousy, I suppose.”

“Jealousy?” Roman scrunches his nose, uncomprehending.

“Yes- I know it isn’t exactly fair of me to feel this way, but it’s the unfortunate truth. I have noticed that the two of you have become much… closer, than you once were,” you see the two of them flush in embarrassment, which only serves to prove your point. “Rest assured, I’m very happy for the both of you and your bond. It’s just that I’ve realized that I have become essentially irrelevant, which I find to be… upsetting. And I know you both are far too kind and non-communicative to outright tell me this, thus I decided that I would take matters into my own hands by giving the two of you your much-needed space willingly.”

You do not add that you’re also avoiding them because you can barely stomach being around their PDA. It seems unnecessary, and maybe a tad pathetic.

Virgil recovers from his embarrassment at your calling him out quickly enough, his abashment being engulfed by indignation. Oh, wonderful. They really can’t let up without a fight.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His anger is clear, but all three of you know that he’s only upset at the situation.

“I would love to remain as your friends, of course, I only meant that it would be best if I didn’t interrupt you two-”

“Interrupt us?!” He’s very near shouting, leaping up from his seat and stalking towards you. He stops less than a foot away, and you try desperately not to recoil from him.

“Yes,” you sound meek, don’t you? “It only made sense-”

He stares at you as though you’re an idiot. It’s a despicable look, but when you turn your attention to Roman for a reprieve, his expression is no different.

And then they- oh, what they do next brings you more pain than any expression ever could. It starts quiet, like they’re trying to hold it at bay, but their resolves crack and crumble.

They laugh. They’re laughing at you.

You shouldn’t have let them in- not into your room, not into your head, not into your life at all. You should have known that when your genuine emotions came to light, they’d only find it humorous in the end. Because you, Logan- Logic, your ‘feelings’- they’re hilarious. They are nonsensical and hardly befitting a being such as yourself, yet you have them! And you actually began to speak about them! What a comedic situation. You’re a fool in every sense of the word- both a jester and an idiot.

They aren’t even laughing that hard, but to you each small sound reads as a raucous, villainous cackle that tears apart your skin and leaves you raw. Roman’s head is tipped back and he appears to be shaking with amusement; Virgil is trying to press his lips together and stifle his chuckling, but he’s doing a poor job of it.

Something writhes in you, much uglier than your shame or guilt. It squirms beneath the layers of your skin and runs up and down your spine, tensing your muscles with its electricity. It’s fury, burning nearly as bright as your face surely must be with this humiliation.

How could they, tricking you into caring for them, convincing you to help them and support them, only to then heckle you when you hand them your trust. It was such a fragile thing already- which you know is preposterous, trust isn’t tangible, but in this moment it feels quite like a cracked window finally shattering to useless shards.

“Out.”

Virgil is startled into silence immediately; Roman makes a strangled sort of sound as he stops laughing.

“What?” They chorus, both looking ready to contradict you with drawn out and over-emotional arguments.

You won’t give them that satisfaction.

“Get. Out. Of my. Room,” your shaking speech is blanketed in monotone; it’s like a towel thrown over a forest fire; it won’t last long.

Their eyes widen comically. They speak all over each other, clamoring to explain or excuse their actions, but to you the pleading is naught but white noise.

You gave them a chance to leave of their own volition, but if they’re so keen on remaining a nuisance, then fine. You huff a sigh, turning your back to Roman and Virgil. With a snap, their chatter cuts off unceremoniously, and you are left cold and lonely.

When you turn around, they’re gone.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>>

You don’t get a chance to react before you’re thrown upwards through the floor of your bedroom. You land in an unceremonious heap, half-on and half-off of your bed, losing your balance almost immediately and toppling to the floor. Rising up makes you dizzy enough as it is, but being forced away from somewhere makes you want to vomit.

You pull yourself up from the ground, holding your head in your hands until the world stops spinning. As soon as your brain gets working again, you can hear thunderous footfalls out in the hall. They stomp right past your door and down the hall. There’s a series of loud thumps, rattles, and shouts, before whoever it is retraces their steps.

You walk to your door as if on autopilot, opening it just as Roman was about to knock. He’s panting, distressed.

“We fucked up,” he says.

“Yeah,” you pull him inside, slamming the door behind him, “We did.”

“I didn’t mean to, you know that right? I wasn’t laughing at him, I wouldn’t, alright?” Roman spirals, “He thinks I did! It was just ridiculous, was all! To think that we don’t want him around- to think-”

He curls into himself. You catch his hand before he can press it against his chest, unfolding him. You hold his wrist and rub little patterns into the back of his hand.

“Ro, hey.”

He glances up at you, wild-eyed. Eyeshadow is already creeping its way down his face.

“Why don’t we talk about this in your room instead, hm?”

He nods, shaking, with a small mutter of ‘right, right’. You nod back, holding onto him just tight enough that your claws don’t quite dig in.

You materialize in Roman’s room, dragging him along with you. Almost immediately a fierce pulse of energy overwhelms you. You stagger in shock, but Roman doesn’t even blink at the force. He pulls away from you and falls upon his massive, plush, circular canopy bed with a despairing whine. You can’t really blame him.

The Creative power of this room takes its effects on you faster than any other side’s abilities could- you really wonder how Roman is so used to it. You sit on the bed beside him, intending to comfort him as he buries himself further into his hoard of pillows. But then, you can’t. You can’t sit down. Far too much troubled excitement is pooling in your stomach; far too many ideas and thoughts are running through your head, and the loudest of them are desperate appeals to start fixing this mess.

Anxiety and Creativity wouldn’t theoretically mix well, but that’s just the thing about theories. They’re often wrong, so very wrong or crackpot or conspiratorial. The truth of it is Creativity and Anxiety work together wonderfully, both as concepts and as actual, metaphysical creatures. You’ve known this, even if you won’t admit it, since you were all teenagers. But only now does it hit you just how much Roman’s abilities can do for you. It takes all of your energy, all that pent-up fear and frustration from what’s just happened, and it gives you the tools to actually use it for something.

It also makes you, ya know. Just a little recklessly confident.

“Alright, Princey, get up.”

He whines again, shifting his head just enough to glare at you.

“I’m wallowing in self-pity! For the reason that one of my dearest friends thinks me a- a bully! How are you not freaking out about this?”

“Honestly?” You wrap your hands around his wrist again, pulling him into a ragdoll-ish sitting position, “I’ve got no idea. Mentally I think I’m in the fifth dimension or some shit, so we gotta work this out quick before I come back down and really lose my mind.”

He grumbles, but you see him biting back an amused smile. Flopping his legs over the edge of the bed and making no movement to stand, Roman narrows his eyes up at you.

“Alright, alright. We need to give that conversation another go, I know that, but we should give Logan some space first. He’s unlikely to hear us out now. You know how headstrong he is when he gets… like this.”

You nod, vacantly, because you're already three steps ahead of where he is in the conversation.

“Yeah, good point. More time.”

“Right,” Roman draws the word out, looking at you strangely, “So why aren’t you moping with me?”

You pull the reins of your practically palpable energy enough to sit down, right next to him.

“We obviously have to work out this-” you gesture between yourself and Roman, “-before we can really talk to Logan,” once the sentence is out of your mouth you wish you could swallow back the ‘obviously’, because Roman is usually slow on the uptake and you’d never intentionally make fun of that. But he does nothing more than scrunch his face up in exaggerated confusion, the pink tint to his face giving away that he must have at least some idea what you’re implying.

“What- what do you mean by that? The two of us already get along famously!”

“I think you know that’s not what I meant. You’re using your stage voice. You always do that when you lie.”

“Who are you- Janus?” He cough-laughs awkwardly, breaking eye-contact with you. You’re surprised that you’re holding up any better than him, but your strongest reaction at the moment is a mild blush and some prickling at your skin.

It is for these reasons that you both love and hate Creative-Mode Virgil. He is a very productive and efficient version of you, but his propensity for acting bold and impulsive makes you want to strangle him. Him being you, of course.

“Look, Logan was wrong to think that he was a third wheel, or whatever, but I’m pretty sure he was right about the… closeness with us, I guess.”

Roman’s staring at you with wide eyes, a deep red flushing him from his ears right across his nose and cheeks. He’s clearly trying to smile, but it’s coming out awkwardly strained, almost twisted sideways. There’s a second when the anxiety rushes back to you in a wave of oh no you misread this so fucking bad of course he doesn’t feel that way about you you’re his best friend whatthehellwereyouthinkingVirgil- and it almost wins you over, but you’re in Roman’s Room. And that doesn’t just mean motivation and creativity.

Your paranoid thoughts could never beat what’s ingrained into you as a fact. You can feel the romantic tension, almost like it’s a physical presence in the room. Maybe it is. A part of you- most of you, in fact- still wants to convince you that you’re doing something wrong. But it’s getting harder and harder to believe the longer you sit here, knowing that these emotions you feel aren't entirely your own.

“Virgil,” he breathes, and you can feel it on your skin- when did you get so close?

“We don’t have to do anything about this,” you start to backpedal, but you don’t move away from him, “Not if you don’t want to, yet. I just… we had to talk about it, I think.”

“So you…?”

The hesitance in his voice destroys your resolve. You reach out, tucking up both of his hands in your own.

They’re warm.

“Yeah, I- yeah.”

He surveys you for far too long; it’s hard not to squirm. You let him watch you, though, just so he can find whatever it is he’s looking for in your expression. When he does, it only draws him in nearer.

“You and Logan are right. I love you, V.”

You try not to smile. It doesn’t work.

“I figured.”

He huffs at you, shoving you, but he’s grinning widely. You roll your eyes at him. You don’t speak for a while, holding your tongue for as long as you can- but you really need to say it. Just so he knows.

“I love you back, though. Or- something like that, I don’t know…”

Roman laughs outright at that, tossing his head back. You can already feel the energy you were given twisting into an entirely contradictory exhaustion. Because of that, you don’t even try to pretend to be annoyed; you just watch, fondly.

When he’s settled, that amused look turns sharply to worry.

“So now what?”

You pause, running your thumb over his knuckles as you think the question over.

“Logan?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Well, like you said, we give him some space.”

“And then?”

You glance up at Roman for confirmation, but you don’t need to. Like you said, you can feel it; his room is a pretty big snitch.

“We tell him we love him.”

You let yourself forget about what happened, just for the afternoon. It’s hard, but what choice do you have? It’s out of your hands for now. And, while usually that makes you even more nervous, you manage to force yourself into the shape of something vaguely undaunted. After all, if you can’t tell Logan just how much you care about him, you can still remind Roman.

In your own way, of course.

“Hey,” you mutter, for what must be the millionth time that evening. Roman turns his attention away from the vent-art he’s working on, glancing at you.

“Yes, Knightmare?” He asks, but the tired and affectionate smile on his face says that he already knows your game. Damn, and here you were thinking you were subtle. (not.)

“Mmh,” you press your face into the side of his neck, leaving a few miniscule kisses to the skin there. Your arms are twined around his waist, a position that bordered on- oh, who are you kidding, it’s exceptionally clingy.

The embarrassment that you feel from so openly displaying such sappy, disgusting affection is overturned, however slightly, by the quiet laugh and kiss to the top of your head that Roman returns to you for your efforts. You hide your smile in the crook of his neck.

You continue to shower Roman with attention for a minute or so, covering his face with little pecks and pressing yourself against him, before leaning back a few inches. You sigh. He resumes his work, resting his back against your chest as he does so.

You will let him continue to draw for ten or so minutes. You will ask for his attention again, and he’ll give it to you with a slightly wider smile than the last time you did it- that smile grows exponentially, but only by tiny increments.

You’ll kiss him all up his neck and the side of his face, hug him even tighter, listening to him laugh in a much too relieved voice before you let up once more.

And he’ll be a little more sure of you each time. A little more sure that you two can do this together.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>>

You are not a patient entity when it comes to the things you want. You are, in the best of cases, the exact opposite. This gets about One Million Billion times worse when the one thing that you want is to declare your love for someone, and said someone hasn’t left his room even once in six days.

Virgil, Patton, and Janus (once you’d relayed the situation to the latter two) have essentially been keeping you on a leash at all times of the day- or night- to make absolutely sure that you don’t break Logan’s door down. Which- to be fair- you wouldn’t put it past yourself to do that, but still.

But even with the distraction of a new boyfriend (boyfriend!!!!) and those two overbearingly caring friends of yours, you are still Physically Unable to Not Do Anything currently. And, you suppose if you can’t break Logan’s door down, you might as well try that idea out on someone who wouldn’t bat an eye at such an, ah, intrusion seems to be the fitting word.

“Uurghhhhh!”

You drop yourself face first onto Remus’ bed in your usual melodramatic fashion, immediately regretting it because fuck that smells horrid. When was the last time it washed its sheets?

Probably never, actually. You sit up.

Your sibling is sitting cross-legged on its desk, working on something that’s got a good deal of goop and limbs. It looks up at you blankly.

“Ro? What the hell are you doing in here?” It doesn’t sound angry, just very, very surprised.

“My life is ending.”

“Fun! Does that mean I get full creative control?”

“No! And it’s not fun, you animal!”

It scrutinizes you, setting its strange arthropodic creation down on the desk. You lean back when it leans forwards.

“Wow, shit must be really bad if you’ve decided to come here!”

You nod, miserably.

“Okay,” it claps its hands together, standing up only to fall against the bed beside you. It’s half-sitting, half-laying; the way it twists all its limbs up can not be comfortable. “What’s going on?”

You glare at it, but you aren’t sure why. Probably just because it is there and you need something to glare at while you talk.

“It’s Logan…” You trail off, waiting for Remus to catch on. It takes its time thinking, even more expressionless than before.

“You know why he hasn’t left his room in days? I tried to check on him but he barely told me anything. Just said he was tired, and ‘thanks for the concern’,” it says at last, catching you off-guard.

“You mean you haven’t heard? I would’ve thought Patton or Janus might have told you.”

It taps its claw to its chin a couple of times, thoughtful. The implication clicks just a second later, apparently, because it lets out a whining groan and drags its hands down its face.

“Oh, not that. I can’t do anything if it’s that!” It exclaims, “Yeah, they did mention it, but I guess I just tune that kind of thing out,” it pauses, “...It’s because you and Vee are fucking now, right?”

You flush, embarrassment and indignation welling up at the back of your throat. You bat Remus’ shoulder, bristly as a thornbush.

“No, we aren’t- I mean, not yet- I mean, that’s none of your business!”

“You did kinda come to me for help, though, so it actually is.”

You glower, refusing to justify that with a response. It rolls its eyes at you, turning over so that it’s flat on its back with its upper half hanging off the bed.

“It’s your bad to come to me for romance advice. You couldn’t have asked literally anyone else- yourself, for example?” It fusses with its talons as it rants, snapping off a couple of nails absentmindedly, “It’s not even the fun kind of gross.”

You can’t believe you’re considering saying it. You won’t! You shouldn’t! You refuse!

“...Please?” Oh fuck, you’ve done it now.

Remus pulls its head up slightly, a very smug grin across its face. Its teeth are horrendously crooked and yellow-stained, looking much too big and sharp to fit into its mouth.

“Awww, you’re begging? God, you’re so desperate.”

It’s very difficult to resist the urge to push it off the bed. But you are a pillar of restraint today, because it’s not entirely wrong about that, and you still need it to help you.

“Look, it’s too personal to my own life for my abilities to do me any good. And Virgil can’t talk about it- he’s way too frazzled to even think about it, the poor thing. Plus, Patton and Janus aren’t… great… at things,” that’s a very soft way of putting: the former gets much too emotionally invested and the latter is entirely snarky and unhelpful. “So I came here. I think a more, erm, detached point of view could help.”

Remus hums at that.

“I guess there’s nothing more detached from romantic issues than someone who’s never had any- you’ve come to the right place in that case.”

“So you’ll help?”

Remus slides slowly forward until it’s landing in a heap on the ground, various crunching noises resulting from the impact. It huffs, lifts itself up to rest its chin on the edge of the bed, and stares at you unblinkingly.

“You’re not allowed to tangent about how pretty his eyes are or how much you love his voice, or anything like that, got it? Otherwise, I will puke, and probably into your mouth just to shut you up.”

You gag, perhaps a bit exaggeratedly.

“That’s vile!”

“Thank you! Now, bitch to me about your problems before I get bored.”

You look down to your lap, winding and unwinding your fingers repetitiously. You think about the past couple of days; in many aspects, it’s been wonderful. Virgil actually wants to be your boyfriend! And that’s what he is now! Of course, you both are just as cuddly as ever, but now you don’t have to worry about holding back. That’s been an amazing relief.

But there’s always that little thing missing, holding you back from being content completely. You want to give Logan his space, truly you do, but every day you feel a little more distant from him. A little further from being able to fix things. It’s familiar in all the worst ways.

You blink rapidly, remembering where you are before the emotions overcome you. With a shaky breath, you begin to speak. It’s just a summary at first, but then you can’t help but give Remus your most detailed accounts of, well, everything.

You gauge its reaction intensely, but it’s as inscrutable as ever. You finish the tale hurriedly, expectant for some sort of response from the creature across from you.

There is an intolerable silence as you practically see the gears turning in Remus’ brain, which is funny because you thought Octopuses were supposed to have nine of them. You have no idea what it’s using all the other ones for, if that’s the case.

“You laughed at him,” it smirks when it speaks, sounding out the words slowly. You scoff.

“We were laughing at the situation! We didn’t mean it to seem that way. It was just bad timing! ”

It cackles at you, sitting back on its legs and tossing its head back. It sounds like a shrieking kettle.

“No wonder he’s so pissed! He thinks you think his feelings are a joke! His whole deal is not wanting to be that. That’s, like, his big thing.”

You’d… sort of figured that’s what happened, but hearing it out loud still stings. To think you’d done that to him. He was getting so much better with his feelings, but you had to go and ruin it.

“I already know that I- we-” mental filtering, Roman, “We caused the issue. I wanted to know how to fix it.”

Remus stops laughing as suddenly as it’d started, looking at you with all the sincerity of, perhaps, someone capable of being serious.

“Corner him,” it answers simply.

“Excuse me?”

“Corner him. Your first mistake was that you went to him in his room, which meant he could just throw you out of there. He’s stubborn, right? Plus, he thinks you were making fun of him. He’s not gonna come out to have a civilized conversation on his own, cuz he’s a dumbass, so I don’t think more space is gonna help you out here. Lure him out! Tie him up, if it’ll make him listen!” Remus pauses thoughtfully, “Orrrrr you could try amputating his legs entirely, but he’ll probably grow them back. He’s annoying like that.”

You choose to ignore the last suggestion, focusing instead on its main point.

“Are you sure that won’t make things worse?”

“Define ‘worse’ for me, in terms of right now, currently, in here on this day.”

“Good point.”

Remus nods to itself, standing up from the floor and stretching its arms above its head. Its shoulders dislocate, but it pops them back into their sockets once its done. This almost feels like the conclusion of the conversation, but you get the impression that it’s taking its time to piece together a sentence with a little more finality.

“He was obviously crazy about you two before, which means he probably still is. He’s also a sad little shit, though.”

You move to stand as well, curling your fingers against themselves again.

“You really think so?”

“Oh, I have no idea. That’s your department, remember? Now, get out of my room; no alloromantics allowed after-” it checks the time, clearly making the rule up on the spot, “Five twenty-six P.M.”

“Fine, fine, I can take a hint,” you place your hands on your hips, feeling just a little more confident in the wake of this talk.

“‘Hint’? I explicitly told you to leave.”

You grumble at Remus, but make your way to the door nonetheless. It turns back to its desk, grabbing for a jar that seems to be filled with insect legs. It’s immediately refocused into whatever strange creatures it was working on, pulling them apart and shoving them back together. You let the affronted look fall from your face, replaced by a small, fond smile.

“Thanks, Re.”

It glances back at you, briefly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing…” it pauses, its hands stilling. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” you say, earnestly.

You leave, letting it get back to its work.

The hallway smells like a fucking Macy’s compared to Remus’ room. Jesus Christ, it’s a relief.

You shut the door behind you with a soft click, leaning back against it with a deep, shuddering sigh. It’s been a long week.

Ah, and just on time, as if to prove your point, there’s a gravelly shout and a thump from downstairs. You draw yourself to attention, shaking the slump from your shoulders. You flit through the narrow hall to the top of the stairs, listening carefully for an issue to resolve or an unseemly beast to slay. A prince must protect his subjects, after all.

For a few seconds, all you can hear below is frantic whispering. You set a foot on the top step, but you don’t get the chance to descend.

Virgil is there like a flash of lightning, speeding up the stairs and heading right for you.

You startle, spiraling back to escape his path, but it’s futile. He catches you at the top, sending you both crashing into the opposite wall. Pain shoots up your back at the impact, as well as sparking in your shoulders where his claws are gripping you. You hiss, the sound dying when you meet his eyes.

They’re bright. No, glowing. No, seeping- their color is seeping into the world around them, curling in little streaks of murky green and violet around Virgil’s face.

He speaks, but it’s without distortion. It’s clear and crisp. It isn’t quite anxiety that’s consuming him this way, no, it’s something much more powerful.

“Roman,” he takes your hand in a fervent grip, “Ro, it’s Logan.”

You blink, and before you really know what you’re doing, you're already halfway downstairs.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>

Light, sparse taps are turned out against the solid wood door. The sounds, however small, echo throughout this packed little room.

Your fingers stall above the laptop’s keyboard, and for a fraction of a second frustration overcomes you. It’s gone as soon as it comes, replaced unceremoniously by numbness. This is a minor inconvenience to your work, but not much else. Thankfully, you are not one to dwell on it; after all this time, you are finally in complete control of your faculties and your emotions.

The knock returns, more sure of itself as it hits against the surface. Bemusedly, you wonder why on earth they’re still bothering- but, that isn’t them, it belatedly occurs to you. The rhythm isn’t that of some showtune or another, nor is it harsh and pounding.

You aren’t sure how many days it’s been since you’ve heard that particular sound. You aren’t sure… What day is it?

Well, regardless, you’ve been jarred from your work. You could ignore it and continue on- you’d likely forget it soon enough- but the fact that you recognize the presence specifically as Patton stops that idea in its tracks. He’s sensitive, an overthinker to an extreme degree. He could entirely misconstrue it as a dislike of his company if you were to not respond, unlike a flippant Remus or a collected Janus. And, well…

You’re over it. You’ve been over what Roman and Virgil did to you. But even though you very much are, it’s still perfectly reasonable to not want to be near them. There would be nothing to gain from talking to them, and you’d like to spare yourself the headache. But, you digress; Patton was not a part of what transpired. He would not do that to you, and therefore he is not an impediment to your work. Looking at it rationally, he is in fact a great source of comfo- help, for you.

With this in mind you stand, making your way across the room. You stagger when you walk, like something’s pulling you in different directions. Odd. The feeling is somewhere in your head, sinking down your vertebrae, insisting that you need to remain in the sanctity of your room. If you leave, the pull suggests, then all your carefully built clarity of mind should become disrupted. How strange for such a convincing conviction to be so seemingly baseless, you reflect.

The knock returns, and that is of course a much more pressing issue. There’s a pull coming from there as well, only one much fiercer and easier to place. It’s the strongest thing you’ve experienced in some time, like someone’s arm around your waist, guiding you forwards (even if there isn’t anyone there, really).

“Good afternoon,” you intone, drawing the door open with excessive force. Strange, again; maybe you had just forgotten how heavy it was.

Patton stands across from you, shock written across his features with his fist still poised in the air, as though to knock again. He drops the hand quickly, reaching out instead with both arms while a grin consumes his face. But the limbs spasm concerningly, and stop. He sweeps his arms back and presses his balled hands tightly against his chest, still smiling at you, only a little more strained. His eyes are big, murky pools of color and emotion, raging and contradictory and impossible to make sense of. Even looking into them is overwhelming.

“Hi, buddy,” he says it so quietly, but the actual words don’t matter. He says it with force, like perhaps he’s localized every emotion he’s ever felt entirely into his tone of voice.

You blink at him, an undefined question on your lips before that pull behind you turns into a sharp push, and before you know it you’re slumping forward into the hallway and out of your room. As you’re forced out, you narrowly avoid hitting the carpet. That’s thanks to Patton, who rushes forwards with a yelp, hauling you up into his sturdy arms with very little effort.

The confusion you’d felt leaves you in a great big rush, replaced by fire. Your skin is consumed by burns at your friend’s touch- or at least it feels that way, but logically it cannot possibly be actual flame- but fuck logic because you’re on fucking fire.

It’s an all-consuming heat, but that’s hardly all it is. It’s breathing. Like you’d been holding your breath to the point of mad deliria and only now are you gasping in great, relieved breaths of clear air as some great and stifling weight is lifted from your lungs. It also feels like moving from an ice bath to a sauna all too quickly, giving you the greatest relief in conjunction with horrific pain.

Oh. You’re crying.

“Shh,” Patton whispers, as though this isn’t anything out of the ordinary, “It’s okay, it’s alright.”

You hold onto him hesitantly. Are you sitting? You think you must be, judging from this position.

“Do you need me to let go? Is it too much?”

You open your mouth to speak, and your voice is in perfect, frightening monotone.

“Yes, please.”

Patton draws back gently, just far enough so that you’re not touching. Big, crocodile tears crawl down your face still, but they begin to die down after a moment. You get your breathing under control, even if just barely.

“I didn’t want you to fall and get hurt,” Patton explains, “But I realize that making you touch a living vessel for emotion might’ve hurt, too, after- well, after that,” he gestures vaguely to your room, and then to yourself. You tilt your head in confusion.

“What-?” You look down at your arms, and the question dies on your lips.

It’s lifeless; corpse-like. The cold, slate-gray painted up your arms and probably across your whole body. The color looks sucked out of you, leaving only emptiness in its wake. The only sign that you’re a living being and not a husk, a shell, a piece of shed skin- other than the tremble of your frame- is the shocks of electric blue running up your body. They could be veins, if not for the fact that the lines were perfectly straight and geometrically cornered.

Patton reaches out, pensively, and presses a cautious finger against the back of your hand. At his touch, the spot bursts into life like watercolor on wet paper. Lively, peachy skin with cool undertones appears, before fading back to gray as Patton removes his finger. And it stings.

You jump to your feet with a struggle, hardly registering when Patton follows your lead. You spin on your heel, staring through the open door and into your room. You can’t imagine entering it- just the feeling of being near it shortens your breath. It’s frigid, it’s hard and unshakeable and dark. It is completely and entirely devoid of emotion or life, and you hadn’t left that frozen hellscape in days.

It’s a wonder you can feel anything at all, after what you’ve done to yourself.

A shaking gasp rips out of your throat, and before you can think another panicked thought you jolt forward and wrench the door shut. You back away from it until your back hits the opposite wall.

“I- I didn’t realize I was doing it,” your words sound like pleas, falling from your mouth without your consent.

“I know,” Patton stands beside you, close enough to feel but not to burn.

“I didn’t mean to, I just-”

“I know.”

“I was doing better. I was doing so well, I was happy.”

He nods solemnly.

You’ve been aware of the existence of your emotions, and relatively accepting of it, for a good deal of time. Hypocrisy is unsustainable. You can’t very well preach the negatives of repression on a weekly basis and then go on to practice it indefinitely.

But what you are… everything that you encompass, everything that encompasses you, it makes it much too easy to slip up. To force out every pesky feeling in favor of more ‘important’ things. What it really is is a pitiful defense mechanism, unfortunately built deep into you by the purpose of your being. And it seems that your room can even do it without your knowledge.

“Logan?”

You look up, unsure if he can even see how miserable you are. Can you emote anymore? You try to frown, but your muscles are stuck like plastic.

“Why don’t we get you somewhere else and see if we can get some of the feeling back into ya, okay?”

You adjust your glasses once, then twice.

“Not your room, I would hope?”

“Oh, goodness,” he lets out a startled laugh, “Of course not, that would be way too much! I was thinking somewhere a little more, uhm, neutral?”

You perk up at that implication. You could just go to the common room, of course, but that’s hardly the only unaffected area in the Mindpalace. Your world isn’t quite real- and even if it is it’s extremely fluid and easy to influence- meaning you can make about just as many locations as any of you would like. Which includes structures ‘outside’ of your ‘house’.

An ill-defined existence like that might irk you, if you were in a philosophical mood. Thankfully, the only mood you’re in right now is sad.

“Yes, I think a change of setting could be beneficial.”

Patton chirps happily, much like a tree frog, and makes to lead you downstairs. You follow close behind him, chasing that emotional high but still nervous of the pain that it could cause you.

You’re on edge for reasons enough already. The idea that you could run into them is a prominent one that you’d rather not focus on.

For a split second you think you might have to, though, because there’s someone sitting on the couch when you step down from the landing. Your breath catches in your throat, but then he looks up at you, heterochromic eyes wide with surprise, and you exhale steadily.

“Hello, Janus.”

His eyebrows arch up at your greeting, perplexion in his smile. Appraisingly, he observes you, offering only a small wave. He addresses Patton when he speaks.

“Well, Dear, it seems you were right to be concerned about him.”

Patton mutters something that you can’t quite make out, looking disconcerted.

You’d be flushing indignantly, if you had the ability to. Your shoulders hunch up as you glance between your friends.

“You’ve been talking about me?”

They both look acutely uncomfortable, exchanging looks. That’s answer enough for you, though.

Oh, just look at yourself. You’re a spectacle now, aren’t you? Poor Logan, getting his metaphorical metaphysical heart broken, only for it to become the talk of the MindPalace for days on end as he relapses into repression. Isn’t it such a lovely thing for you to be? A piece of gossip. Entertainment.

Janus’ worry grows on his face, and soon he’s up from his spot and hastening towards you. You step back from him, trying to remember what glaring is meant to look like. He doesn’t invade your space again, but he just… stares at you.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks. You can almost laugh at the question.

“I’m sure you already know all about it, though, don’t you?”

Both of them are taken aback by your snapping. You regret it immediately; they haven’t done anything wrong, not really. They’re trying to help you, it isn’t their fault that they got caught up in your ‘tragic tale’. But your frustration is difficult to push down. You get the feeling that you can’t push anything down, without worrying that something will snap; it’s almost like an overworked muscle.

“Whatever you think has been happening out here,” Janus speaks, even and slow, “It’s not that bad, alright?”

Patton nods along with him, and reaches towards you. He falters, eventually opting to hook a finger through the band of your watch instead. Your skin prickles, but there’s no pain.

“C’mon, I was thinking we could try heading to the Clubhouse.”

That settles your anger, microscopically. You think Janus is being truthful, and Patton is nothing but consoling. And, of course, there’s the clubhouse…

You might not ever admit how much you like it. It’s been around since before you were around, back in the days of just Anxiety (the oldest), Creativities (tied for second), and a very newly formed Morality. Back when it was first made, it really was just a little child’s clubhouse, made primarily by Roman, with some disruptions by Remus, and small additions by a tiny Patton. It was probably the first neutral structure made up by the sides, as they had just begun to figure out their powers and the ‘world’ that they inhabited. Of course no one had the heart to get rid of it after that.

You give Patton a nod, angling your face so that it maybe looks like you’re smiling. He lets go of you, smiling back as he turns on his heel and heads for the door. You trail behind him, knowing that it must look very silly that you’re basically tailgating him. Janus follows you in turn, a few feet behind. He watches over the both of you protectively.

You step out onto the lawn, hearing grass crunch beneath your shoes. The wind is particularly biting, and the sky above threatens a storm. You’re sure that the weather in the real world isn’t this chaotic, so someone in the mindscape must be sulking. You don’t mind; it’ll only make the warmth of the Clubhouse all the more pleasant.

The Clubhouse has changed so much over the years that it’s unrecognizable as its original iteration. What once was a little stick-and-stone glorified fairy house is now a cottage-like building, one story high with a thickly thatched roof. Beside the door on either side are big bay windows, each made into little reading nooks. It’s essentially one big room, the outside painted with such vibrant pastels that it easily stands out against its surroundings.

The doors creak when Patton opens them, but not in a way that denotes damage or wear. It’s an old and comforting sound, one that comes from familiarity and consistent use. You step through the threshold, and affection floods your chest.

It isn’t large, but it’s well-equipped. There are ancient oaken tables stacked up with crafts materials, squashy bean bag chairs, and a bright rug or two thrown over the rustic hardwood floors. The nooks have pillows and blankets piled in them, looking like nests. There are bookshelves, art supplies, vinyl records (complete with a record player)- even some new-looking wall displays of preserved bugs and butterflies for decoration. To top it all off, fairy lights were strung across all the walls, making it all seem quite mystic.

You find yourself taking another step inwards; the amenities are incredibly inviting. Everything here is inviting, and homey, and lived-in. The house itself almost feels alive, nonsensical as that is.

It’s no wonder this is everyone’s favorite.

Patton watches you patiently, his hand resting on the door handle. You take a deep breath, but you aren’t sure why you need it. You make your way to the perfume-y, floral print sofa against the wall to your right, treating everything around you rather reverently. When you sit, you sink down into the couch.

Patton sits a respectful distance from you. Janus strolls right after him, knocking the door shut with the back of his boot before settling in an armchair on the left of the couch.

There’s a comfortable silence, and you start to feel your numbness abate. With a contented sigh, your head falls back against the cushion and your eyes fall shut. Not in an effort to sleep. You’re just… resting. You breathe deeply, letting the atmosphere envelop you.

The corners of your mouth twitch up.

“Logan!” Patton squeaks, “Look!”

Your eyes blink open, mildly startled at the outburst. Patton’s gaze on you is intense, first focused on your face and then moving down your arms. You follow the look, to see your...

Your perfectly normal, flesh-colored arms. Your human-ish, mildly tan, average arms. You feel what you can now recognize as a smile grow wider on your face.

“Well,” Janus chimes, “It seems you just needed a little break.”

“Maybe so,” your voice creaks from lack of use. You hadn’t even realized you’d been nonverbal since you’d last snapped at them. Neither had drawn attention to it, which you silently thank them for (they, after all, were all too familiar with the experience).

“Do you feel good enough to talk about what’s been upsetting you?” Patton gently asks you. And you… don’t have an answer.

“What is there to talk about?” You tilt your head bemusedly.

“I think he means, are you ready to talk to who’s been upsetting you?” Janus explains. Patton hesitates before nodding his agreement.

“I- what?” Your serenity leaves in a rush, replaced by astonishment and outrage, “You expect me to- to talk to them?”

You give them approximately three seconds to respond before plowing forwards with your rant.

“I’m talking to you both, isn’t that enough? You’ve done nothing to wrong me, of course. What does it matter if I don’t speak to those- those- those-”

Janus’ eyes expand to circles, the pupils shrinking to anxious slits.

“Those?” He prompts.

“Tricksters, betrayers, playactors, wolves- whatever you want to call them!” Where were vocab cards when you needed them? All your synonyms can’t carry the punch that you need them to. Insults aren’t much good if you have to explain them after.

“No!” Patton practically screams, out of absolutely nowhere. You glance at him, stunned, to see him looking like a kicked puppy- er, froggy. He’s on the verge of tears, leaning towards you precariously, with devastation swirling in his big eyes. “This is why you need to talk to them, please, Logan.”

You are so very bewildered, you barely notice that Janus is standing from his chair until he’s already across the room.

“As I said earlier: whatever you think happened, didn't. I can prove it, too,” he mutters, standing by the door.

“You weren't there, Janus,” you snap, "I tried to tell them how I felt and they- they laughed at me.”

“They didn't!” Patton squeaks. You shake your head frantically, still reeling.

“It was- it was awful, you can’t-”

“No,” Patton interrupts, “I meant that literally. They didn’t do that.”

This interaction is making your head spin with indignation. You are capable of immense patience when it comes to Patton- and Janus, for that matter- but this has become ridiculous.

“I’m so tired of being made a mockery of, Patton. I won’t stand for it any longer, even if you’re just trying to help.”

He breathes in sharply, about to argue, but then his gaze catches on something behind you. His mouth stays open, but he’s soundless. You jump to your feet, spinning around to see just what he’s looking at.

The door is open. Janus is gone.

There's a shout from the main house.

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @intruxiety @thefivecalls

(Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed :3)

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fear-before-valor · 3 years

Text

Romeo, Question Mark // Aromantic!Jim fic because I wanted aro content and if I can’t find some, I’ll [thanos voice] do it myself // Words: 1810 // Warnings: slight internalized aphobia; nothing that bad, just the amount that might come from an insecure teenager still learning about himself-- that said, take care of yourself, and remember that you are valid! <3 --

“Hey Tobes?” A voice sounds, in the dead of night.

“Yeah, Jim?” There is a rustling of a sleeping bag, because Toby would never, ever sleep in the bed if Jim was sleeping on the floor. He’d much sooner sleep on the floor with him, and Jim is too nice to steal half of Toby’s bed, even if it would have been alright by Toby. And it would have been. But again… Jim’s too polite. Toby knows this. Toby knows Jim.

For example, Toby knows that right this moment, Jim’s long stretch of silence is not from his being sleepy. He can practically feel the nervousness rolling off of his best friend, but he isn’t sure what the next move either of them will make is— or what it perhaps should be— so he remains quiet as well, and simply waits for Jim to respond back. He waits a long, long moment, and he’s almost afraid that Jim is going to bail on whatever he wanted to bring up—

—But then—

“What does a crush feel like?”

There is a long beat.

…Oh. Huh.

Toby realizes immediately that Jim can likely feel his brief, shocked silence, so he rushes to make it clear that he doesn’t think the question is weird, even if it caught him a little out of left field. Quick, Toby, he thinks to himself, Make Jim laugh. It’ll relax him.

“Well, you’re the Trollhunter; don’t you know how it feels to crush something?”

It is a stupid, stupid joke, Toby thinks, but it works on Jim’s midnight brain, as a soft, fond laugh sounds from Jim’s side of the room, which Toby has yet to look toward, for fear of breaking whatever is going on. He wants Jim to feel comfortable enough to talk to him, so he refuses to look at the other boy yet, knowing that his gaze might make his best friend hide whatever is happening inside his head. Toby wishes Jim wouldn’t do that so often. He likes when he’s allowed in Jim’s head. The guy dwells up there a little too much, in Toby’s opinion. He overthinks things like crazy these days, with all the pressures on him. Which, as supportive as Toby is, for all of Jim’s endeavors— be it Romeo, or the successor to an ancient line of warriors dating back centuries— Toby can’t help but worry sometimes, about how much his best friend has taken on. He knows he isn’t supposed to like Strickler and all, but Toby can’t really deny that the man has a point with his nickname for Jim. He really does shoulder the world.

Jim’s voice slices into Toby’s worries, his amused tone calming some of them, “Not what I meant, Tobes. You know what I meant.”

“Hey, maybe I don’t. You don’t know that.”

Jim’s voice, like his laugh moments ago, is, again, fond. “Yes I do.”

Toby’s chest flips in a weird way. A way he can’t quite identify. “Okay, fine… I do know what you meant…” He admits, but he isn’t sure where to go after that.

The room is dead silent for a second, the kind of quiet where both parties can hear the other think, until Jim interrupts it and asks, “So… do you know? Y’know… what a crush feels like?”

Toby frowns, thinking about it more seriously. He isn’t sure he’ll do the best job describing it, but he tries. “Well… Uh, you know how I like Darcy?” He asks, and at Jim’s assent, he continues. “It’s like… when she smiles, my knees go all weak, and my chest feels really light. And… I want to be the reason she smiles. I want to hold her hand, and take her on dates, and slow dance with her at Spring Fling over and over again, like we did that… one night…” Toby hesitates to bring up their most recent Spring Fling, remembering belatedly what else had happened then.

He moves on quickly, “It’s like… I dunno. I want to make her happy, like she makes me happy. I won’t say I wanna live my whole life with her ‘cause we’re only 16, but… I guess…. sometimes, it feels like that. Even if I know it’s unlikely.” He shrugs, a little saddened at the thought, but not fully. He knows that high school relationships rarely survive graduation, and he’s made peace with that. And, moreso in his case, he knows that there’s an unfortunate possibility that he won’t even survive to graduation, but that one, he tries not to make peace with. It’s bad for the mind.

“…Huh.” Jim retorts, seemingly unable to say anything but that.

After Toby waits for Jim to speak again… and becomes aware after a while that Jim isn’t going to, he chances it, rolls the dice, says, “Can I ask why you’re asking?”

Jim evades the real question, and instead answers what Toby verbalized, rather than what Toby left unsaid. “You can ask.”

“…Will you answer?” Toby responds, resisting with all of his might, the urge to look at Jim. He stares at a glowing green plastic star on his ceiling instead.

Jim’s hesitation is palpable. Toby can feel it in the hairs on his arm, by the way the very air seems to tense with Jim’s shoulders, which Toby can hear against the noisy fabric of his sleeping bag.

“I-” Jim’s voice catches in his throat. “Maybe…?”

“Not that you have to,” Toby says, uncertain, “But you can… you can share… y’know. If you want to.”

His best friend’s response is immediate. “Promise you won’t judge?”

Jim has been wishing to talk about this, Toby realizes, and his words come as fast as Jim’s did, “Of course I won’t.”

The silence this time, is Jim psyching himself up. Toby can tell. He can hear it in the way that he takes a few deep breaths, the way that he shifts restlessly.

“I don’t think I actually have a crush on Claire.” Jim blurts.

…Oh. Again.

No offense to Jim, Toby restrains relieved laughter, but that’s it? He thinks to himself. He doesn’t say that, though, because he knows that that won’t help reassure his friend in the slightest.

“Oh,” he repeats, aloud this time. “Well, that’s fine. Crushes come and go—”

“No.” Jim says, sounding upset. Toby freezes, listening. “I don’t mean—“ Jim huffs softly, “I mean… Ugh, sorry Tobes.” Toby practically hears the other boy collecting his thoughts, “I just mean… I don’t think I ever had a- a real crush on her.”

Did Jim’s voice just break? Toby feels like he’s had the wind knocked from his lungs. Whether Jim’s voice had or not, Toby’s heart certainly had. Is Jim so afraid of Toby judging him for misreading his feelings?

Toby shakes his head, even if he isn’t sure whether or not Jim sees it, “That’s okay, too, buddy. I’m not gonna judge you for that. Crushes are weird. They aren’t always easy to figure out.”

“…Right.” Jim sounds like something else is on his mind, but Toby doesn’t think pushing him seems quite right.

He takes a more subtle approach. “Thanks for telling me, though, Jimbo. I’m glad you feel like you can tell me something like that. Because, of course you can. I’m here for you.”

It isn’t so subtle that Toby fools himself to think that Jim hasn’t noticed, but it isn’t an outright probe, either.

He can tell that Jim appreciates it, however, by the sound of his voice. “Thanks, Tobes. I guess… I’ve just been scared of what’s been going on in my head, y’know? Do you… ever get that way?”

Toby thinks about his words before answering, but he gives a vocalized ‘hm’ to make sure that Jim knows that he isn’t just ignoring the question. “I mean… I’m no savior of the world and all, but, yeah, I get that. There’s a lot happening right now, troll stuff aside. We’re teenagers; things are kinda expected to be weird and complicated these days, right?” He gives a soft smile in the darkness, letting it bleed into his words.

Jim’s nod is audible against nylon once again, as he says, “Right. Understatement of the year, huh?”

Toby grins. “For sure. But that’s okay. Because we can get through it together, y’know? There’s nothing you could do to make me leave you, Jim, you know that, right?”

Jim’s silence is from shock, he knows. Toby allows him a moment to process.

“…Even if I’m… not really… normal…?”

Toby can’t hold back his snicker this time, “Jim, is anything about our reality ‘normal’ right now?”

Jim’s smile colors his words, to Toby’s relief. “Right. Of course it isn’t.” He pauses for a second, as if making up his mind, and Toby waits for him to do that, “Can I tell you something?”

Toby answers as quickly as a heartbeat responds to itself, “Of course.”

“I-” Jim hesitates one more time, but evidently decides to push through, as he says, so quietly that Toby nearly misses it; lucky he is holding his breath, so that he doesn’t miss Jim’s words in his own exhale, “I think I’m… aromantic, Toby.”

Toby takes a single beat to breathe in and out, to allow this to add to his bank of knowledge about Jim, to his understanding of his best friend, and then says, “That’s cool. Was it the play that gave it away?”

There is a brief, alarmed pause, before Jim laughs, hard, at that. It starts slow, but rapidly grows lighter and more frequent, until it is closer to a giggle or a wheeze. “How do you know me so well?” He gets out between laughs.

Toby’s grin could light up the whole room. “‘Cause I’m your best friend, dude. It’s like… my whole job description.”

When Jim finally gets a handle on his chuckles, he responds, “Right. How could I forget?”

“You’d never. You just have a lot happening right now.” Toby reminds him.

“…Yeah.”

“But not tonight.” Toby soothes Jim’s beginning-to-wind-up mind, catching it before it can get too far.

Jim gives one last, singular laugh, soft, and fond, “Yeah.” He says again. “Not tonight.”

By the tone of his voice, Toby can tell that Jim finally feels like everything is okay. And he’s glad. Because it is. Just for that night, everything is okay.

The two boys fall asleep in minutes, closer in both heart and in body. Neither of them can remember when it happened, or who initiated, but when they wake the next morning, they find themselves hand in hand, and it isn’t even embarrassing. Because they are, as they always have been, best friends in every way. They will always reassure each other, and they will always be there for each other, and they will, evidently, always do it hand in hand.

#// i'm like... definitely not planning for every single piece of aro content I make for this fandom to be about accepting oneself #// because aro stories deserve to be multifaceted and not just about our identities #// however......... I've been struggling with accepting my own self lately so-#// here's a little comfort piece I wrote for it!#// and also written because I just... want more aro content lol #// anyway!#// hope y'all enjoy!#// debating putting this on ao3 too but we shall see #// i'm a little nervous about how this one turned out #aaaaa #trollhunters fic #okay to rb just don't add anything! (tags are fine!)#// i hope there's no typos in this oof #// i revised but tired brain may have missed some-- if you see any pls lemme know!

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tsuki-chibi · 4 years

Text

Avengers Valentine’s Fic: Six Hands are Better than Two

Read it on AO3!

--------

When her cup of tea was ready, Pepper carried it over to the table and sat down. She took a careful, too-hot sip, then set her cup down and looked at the tablet sitting in front of her. This was it. The moment of truth. Despite of her nerves, her hands remained remarkably steady as she picked up the tablet and unlocked it. The first file opened seamlessly, and she scanned it with a critical eye.

She knew exactly what she was looking for. The biggest issue was finding it. The first few she dismissed out of hand due to various health problems. The fifth file showed a man with blond hair; she lingered over that one for a minute before flicking past, knowing that she would prefer someone with darker hair. The sixth was passed over for the same reason. Then she landed on the seventh, showing a striking man with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a broad smile with straight, white teeth.

“Not him. Too much like a movie star.”

Pepper shrieked and jumped about a foot in the air. “Tony! What the hell?!”

Tony laughed as he sat down beside her, close enough to steal the tablet but out of range of any punches. “I asked JARVIS to tell me when you started looking at the profiles,” he said smugly. “I wanted to see too.”

“JARVIS, you traitor,” Pepper muttered without any heat.

“My apologies, Ms. Potts, but Sir was most persuasive.”

Knowing what that meant, Pepper shook her head. “Tony, you have got to stop threatening to sell them to MIT,” she said, exasperated. “One of these days JARVIS is going to take you seriously and have himself voluntarily moved, and then where will you be?”

“J loves me too much for that,” Tony said dismissively, continuing to flick through. “Is this really all you have to choose from? Slim pickings.”

Pepper sighed and rested her cheek on her hand. “Well, fewer men are donating sperm now,” she said frankly. “People are nervous about having biological children showing up on their doorstep in twenty years.” She could appreciate that fear, but it made this process no less frustrating.

When she had first decided that she wanted a baby, Pepper had thought long and hard about her choices. As an aromantic woman, she had absolutely zero interest in a relationship. She liked sex – was rather good at sex, actually – but that was about the extent of it. And no one night stand or frequent booty call was going to agree to have a baby with her without bringing feelings into the mix. Eventually they’d want more: they’d want a relationship, the whole 2.5 kids and white picket fence, and the thought made her skin crawl.

No romance. No relationships. Just a kid. That was harder to get than she had anticipated. She had done quite a bit of research into adoption, but every place she had reached out to had unapologetically informed her that they were reluctant to adopt a child to a single woman. She probably could’ve paved the way by throwing money at the situation, but she was loathe to do that when she’d already be facing a ton of media scrutiny as it was.

There was also surrogacy as an option, but Pepper was more than willing to carry the baby herself. It was Rhodey who had suggested that she go to a donation clinic. Pepper hadn’t seen any harm in looking to see what was available; she wasn’t committing herself just by looking. But she hadn’t anticipated how lackluster it would be. Did she really want to choose the father of her child like she’d pick out a pair of shoes?

Well, no. Of course she didn’t. But she was running out of options – and time. She was turning thirty-five after this year, so she was approaching the threshold where pregnancies were a higher risk. She was already aware she was probably only going to do this once, so she had to make it count. This was the best resort. She held a hand out for the tablet back, but Tony shook his head.

“Seriously, Pep, you don’t have to go with one of these losers,” he said.

“Then how else am I supposed to make it happen? I am not interested in a relationship,” Pepper said, a bit more forcefully than was necessary considering who she was talking to, but she was so damn sick of having to repeat herself. People thought there was something wrong with a woman who didn’t want a relationship. There was a reason she and Tony had covered for each other for as long as they did.

“I know you’re not,” Tony said, far more kindly than she deserved, and Pepper’s shoulders slumped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off,” she said. Out of everyone, Tony knew exactly what it was like to fall short of people’s expectations. He had cultivated a reputation as a slut early on to keep people from figuring out that the infamous Tony Stark had no interest in sex: he would bring drunk women home with him and then put them to bed. Anyone who remembered going to bed alone never wanted to admit that Tony hadn’t slept with them, so they’d make up stories. And she was pretty sure the sex tapes had been faked.

After Afghanistan, when Tony could no longer bear the idea of bringing strangers home, he and Pepper had officially become a couple to give them both some relief. Unofficially Pepper had cultivated a few discreet fuck buddies, while Tony had been content to remain alone. Their agreement had worked very well to keep them both from being bothered by the media, or worse hunted by prospective partners, until Tony met Dr. Stephen Strange.

Pepper had seen the writing on the wall from the moment they returned home from the fight on Titan, having been victorious. Stephen looked at Tony like Tony was something precious, and Tony’s eyes lit up whenever Stephen walked into a room. Naturally, the two of them had awkwardly danced around each other for a few months before Pepper got impatient and forced them to talk it out.

“That’s okay. I get it. Hell, no one gets it better than me,” Tony said. He set the tablet down and looked at her seriously. “What if I offered to do it?”

Her eyebrows jumped. “You’re gonna have sex with me. You.”

“Eww, no,” Tony said, making a face. “But I’d happily donate some of my sperm to the cause. Stephen says that the whole process is way more advanced than it used to be, but that there’s plenty of room for improvement… maybe he and I will take a look at it and see if we can’t figure something out.”

“If anyone could do it, it would be you too,” Pepper said, still reeling from the offer. “You… you’d seriously want a baby?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. I know you and I didn’t work out, but I still think any kid of ours would be awesome.” Tony gave a small smile that quickly faded as he added, “I mean, I understand if you don’t want to. I’ll probably end up being a shitty dad –”

“Tony, no. That’s not it. Anyone who sees you with Peter knows you’re a wonderful dad,” Pepper said immediately.

“It’s not really the same,” Tony mumbled, looking embarrassed.

“Yes, it is and you know it. He literally calls you and Stephen ‘dad’,” Pepper pointed out.

“But we didn’t raise him,” Tony said. He shook his head. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that the offer is there if you’re interested.”

Pepper hummed softly. “What did Stephen say?”

“He’s okay with it. You can talk to him about it if you want to, which you probably should.”

“He’s ready to be a parent?” Pepper asked. “Or are you just looking to make a donation and that’s all?”

“No, we want to be parents with you. Midnight feedings and all. You could move into a room on our floor, and we can set the baby up in the room between us and you. That way, we can help equally. And you’d still be able to go back to your floor when you needed a break,” Tony explained, sounding adorably eager.

“You’re really serious about this,” Pepper said, amazed. At one time, Tony hadn’t been sure that he wanted to be a father at all. That was all Howard Stark’s influence as far as Pepper was concerned. She knew that Tony would be a great dad, but Tony was petrified that he was going to turn out like his father. Having Peter around had done wonders for Tony’s confidence in that regard.

“I am… but only if you’re okay with it. I get that it could be awkward or uncomfortable,” Tony said. “I mean… Stephen and I would still be Avengers and everything.” He looked up uncertainly.

“Let me think about it,” Pepper said slowly. “Is that okay?”

“Sure. Take all the time you need.” He stood up, passed her the tablet, and ambled causally out of the room. Only someone who knew him well, like Pepper did, could recognize how tense he was as he went. He really, really wanted this, she realized.

“JARVIS, have Tony and Stephen really talked about this?” Pepper asked.

“Yes, Ms. Potts. In great detail,” JARVIS replied. “Dr. Strange has just arrived home. Would you like to speak with him?”

“Please,” Pepper said. She believed Tony when he said that Stephen was okay with this, but she wanted to be sure before she even started considering this. She didn’t want a baby to be the thing that came between Tony and the only person he’d ever seriously fallen in love with.

It was only a few minutes before Stephen joined her in the kitchen. He was wearing his uniform, minus the Cloak, and looked tired. Pepper waved him to the table and got up to make herself another cup of tea. She also poured one for Stephen. Unlike Tony, who might as well have had coffee in his veins considering how much of the stuff he drank, Stephen preferred tea. When she turned around, Stephen had picked up the tablet and was flipping through the profiles. Pepper rolled her eyes.

“See anyone interesting?” she asked, sitting again.

“I see some people who may have lied on their applications,” Stephen said critically, stopping at one profile and frowning down at it. “Besides, I believe the more important question is whether you’ve seen anyone interesting.”

“I didn’t get very far before Tony interrupted me,” she admitted. “He had a proposition.”

Stephen didn’t look surprised. “He mentioned he was planning to bring it up today. What did you think?”

“I’m not opposed to the idea,” Pepper said carefully. In truth, it was the best option she’d heard yet. “But I wanted to see what you thought. This isn’t just between me and Tony. I know Tony; he’ll want to be there 100%. And that effectively makes you a father too.”

“It does,” Stephen agreed, his blank expression giving nothing away.

“So… are you okay with that?” Pepper said. “Is that something you want? If it’s not, now is the time to say it.”

“I never imagined I would have a child,” Stephen told her. His hands shook as he lifted his cup. “Particularly after the accident. I lost all interest in sex after that, and a couple of the medications that I’m on would make it difficult for me to get someone pregnant.”

Pepper nodded, having already known this. Tony had told her in confidence after she professed worry over how the two of them would get on, what with Tony’s complete lack of interest in sex. Stephen wasn’t asexual, or at least he didn’t claim the label for himself, but based on what Tony said he was pretty adamant about never wanting to have sex. Luckily, that suited Tony perfectly fine.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not intrigued by the idea. I like having Peter around. I like seeing the joy that Peter’s presence brings to both Tony and myself. I would very much enjoy raising a child. We’ve talked about adoption, but then when you started looking into donations, Tony suggested this could be a convenient solution for all of us.” Stephen hesitated briefly. “My one concern is that I’m not sure how much help I would be at first. My hands…” He trailed off, grimacing.

“It’s fine,” Pepper said gently. “Tony and I will be there. Hell, there are plenty of people in the tower to help. And trust me, there is still plenty you could do.”

“So you’re considering it?” he asked.

“Well… yes, I am. Some people might think it’s crazy… my mom sure will. But I really want a baby, and I like the idea of my child being a part of someone I know and love,” she said. “Even better if it’s Tony, because I know him so well. Plus, Tony brings you to the table as well. The idea of three parents instead of being a single mom sweetens the pot significantly.” She smiled to show that she was teasing, even though she was partially serious.

Stephen smiled too. “Give it some thought. You don’t need to decide right away.” He sat back, rubbing his neck. “JARVIS, where is Tony?”

“Sir is in the workshop.”

Pepper and Stephen exchanged exasperated looks, and then Stephen stood up. “I better go get him out of there, or he’ll pull another all-nighter.”

“Please do,” Pepper said, standing up herself. She picked up her tablet as Stephen left, and did a quick pass through all of the profiles. Some of them sounded impressive, but… she cast a thoughtful look at the door and hummed under her breath as she washed her cup out and set it in the dishwasher.

She did a lot of thinking over the next couple of days. She talked to Rhodey, who was very much in support of the idea, and she talked to her mother, who was very much not. And she also spent some time looking seriously at the files that the agency had given her, trying to decide who she might pick if she decided not to take Tony up on his offer. The problem was, Stephen’s skepticism had made her nervous. After all, she was trusting that complete strangers were who they said they were, and Pepper had been burned that way before in far less high-stakes situations.

There was always the option of asking JARVIS to run background checks, but honestly Pepper wasn’t sure she wanted JARVIS to bother wasting the processing power. Not when, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she had never wanted to be a single mother. It was just the only avenue that she felt was open to her, and she wanted a baby badly enough to accept the cons.

But why do so when she didn’t have to?

It was late at night when Pepper crawled out of bed and padded, bare foot, to the elevator. JARVIS took her down to the common room floor, where she knew that some of the Avengers had been having a late night watching movies. As expected, everyone else was gone and Stephen and Tony were alone in the room, cuddled up on the couch: the two of them had a bad habit of falling asleep there and then regretting it the next day.

Pepper paused for a moment in the doorway, staring at the two of them with a smile. Stephen was laying on the couch itself on his back, bare feet stick out from beneath the blanket. Tony was laying half on top of him and half on the couch, mostly buried beneath the blanket. They made for an adorable sight, one that made her heart swell with happiness on Tony’s behalf.

This was all that Tony had ever wanted. This, right here. Or so she had thought. But maybe there was something else that Tony wanted too, which Pepper had never considered before. Being asexual and not wanting to have sex meant that there was a very obvious obstacle in the way of Tony having kids, but even more than that Tony had to be extremely careful about who he had a child with. Way too many people would take total advantage of him if it meant getting their greedy hands into the Stark fortune.

She didn’t need to take advantage; Tony would gladly hand her his entire fortune without blinking an eye. Hell, in a way he already had by making Pepper the CEO of Stark Industries. Technically, if she had been so inclined, Pepper could’ve overthrown Tony and forced him out of his own company. Thankfully for Tony, she had absolutely no intention of doing that. S.I. would die without Tony’s genius guiding the way, which was something that men like Obadiah Stane were too stupid to realize.

She padded over to the couch and sat down on Tony’s side. Stephen awoke first, blinking owlishly. “Something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” Pepper said. She patted Tony’s knee.

“Huh – wha?” Tony was slower to stir. “Pep?”

“I wanted to see if your offer was still open,” Pepper said.

Tony snapped to immediately. “Of course it is!”

“Good. Because I think I want to take you up on it,” she said.

“Seriously?” Tony said.

“Seriously.”

“Oh my god,” Stephen said. “You’re going to have a baby.”

Pepper wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but she shook her head. “No. We’re” she gestured between the three of them “are having a baby.”

The resulting brilliant smiles that lit up both Tony’s and Stephen’s face made her feel warm from head to toe, and she knew immediately that she’d made the right decision. She beamed as Tony and Stephen kissed with joy, and then Tony pushed himself up and threw his arms around her. Pepper hugged him back happily, returning Stephen’s smile over Tony’s shoulder.

They were really gonna do this, and she knew that three of them would do it right.

#avengers #pepper potts #tony stark #stephen strange #ironstrange #aromantic pepper potts #asexual tony stark

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entity9silvergen · 3 years

Text

Oblique- Chapter 2 (Sanders Sides Fanfiction

Previous chapter, Full Story

Story Info:

Summary: Unable to experience romantic attraction, Remus feels incomplete. Unable to feel sexual attraction, Roman feels less than. Maybe as the King, they decide, they will feel whole again. Their partners and friends, however, know this isn’t the solution and seek to help them realize there’s nothing broken about them before it’s too late.

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil, Nate, Remy, Emile, Seth, Toby, Janus, Remus, Unnamed Orange Side, Romulus, Dragon Witch

Relationships: Logan/ Patton, Virgil/ Roman, Janus/ Remus, Remy/ Emile, Toby/ Seth, Nate/ Orange Side

Other Tags: AroWriMo, Aromantic Remus, Asexual Roman, Spider Virgil, Snake Janus, Orange Side, 7th Side, Additional Sides, No OCs, Short Vid Characters

Warnings for this chapter: Sexual themes, internalized acephobia, internalized arophobia, arousal, romantic feels, minor self-harm, intrusive thoughts, Remus

Author’s Note: There is nothing explicit in this one but there is some post sex scenes and pre almost sex scenes. Also romantic feels. I am aroace so like I don’t actually know what I’m doing, first time writing something like this, but we’re doing it. If any of that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip this chapter. It takes place prior to the previous chapter and provides more context to what’s up with Remus and Roman but is not actually relevant to the plot.

====================

Remus felt good in that way only an orgasm could cause.

It was like… like everything inside him just melted away. Everything tense and tight just washed away. It was at times like this he really felt at peace. The only times he felt at peace. With his mind quiet, he really just felt like himself. Not Dark Creativity, not Intrusive Thoughts. Just Remus.

He should go be productive. Draw something that wasn’t totally obscene. Maybe take a shower without trying to swallow the soap. Eat something other than deodorant. Trim his mustache without cutting himself. Nah, he was still going to do all that stuff. He loved it, intrusive thoughts or not.

He started to roll out of bed when an arm stopped him.

“You’re always so quick to leave,” Janus murmured, draping an arm over Remus’s bare hips. Fuck, that was sexy. Why was he so sexy? All naked and relaxed… Disheveled. That was the word Remus was looking for. His hat, gloves, and clothes were long gone, messy brown hair and scales out for the world to see. Well, not the world. Just Remus. Janus was cute when he was like this, rare as it was. Not cute enough for Remus not to have a double take at his words though.

“Is that bad?” Remus asked hesitantly, a bit more of his insecurity in his voice than he would’ve liked. He knew Janus wasn’t mad and he wouldn’t make fun of him. It was just… ugh, the post-sex euphoria was kind of fading and Remus was starting to feel bad about himself again.

Janus looked up at him, breaking out of his affectionate daze. He frowned. “I mean… no? If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be. Staying the night is just nice.”

“Why?”

The question tumbled out of Remus’s mouth before he could think, like most things he said did. He felt like he shouldn’t have said that but he couldn’t help it. And he really did want to know.

“It just… um, helps with the emotional side of hooking up?” Janus ventured. Remus tried not to frown. “The romantic aspect?”

“Oh. Um, okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I’ll stay,” Remus responded and flopped back down on the bed, letting his back hit the sheets once more. Janus stayed where he was. Remus just stared at the ceiling, unsure if Janus’s touch was nice or uncomfortable. They were both all sweaty. And sticky. Didn’t people normally shower after this? Or wipe off or whatever? Normally Remus would just run around naked and the air would dry him off and he’d be good as new but that didn’t really feel like an option right now.

“You look so uncomfortable.”

“What? I’m not uncomfortable.”

“You’re like a tree right now.”

“Unfuckable unless you want splinters?” Remus cracked, looking down at Janus, but the snakey Side didn’t seem amused.

“You’re literally lying on your back with your arms at your sides,” Janus deadpanned. He shifted a bit, resting his head on Remus’s chest. “And that’s fine but you look stressed. Which is weird because you just came and normally that makes you all loose. Figuratively, not literally, don't look at me like-”

“I’m loose in so many more ways than one,” Remus responded with a shit eating grin, wiggling a bit. Janus sighed, sounding exasperated but fond. But then Remus sobered up. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You know I don’t really mind your jokes. Or lewdness. It’s just part of who you are as a Side.”

“Not that. I meant for not being… romantic. It’s just not my thing. I’m not Roman.”

Janus lifted his head to look at him. “I don’t want Roman. You think if I wanted Roman I’d be in bed with you? If I wanted Roman, I’d be having Roman.”

Remus couldn’t stifle his laughter. Roman probably wouldn’t want Janus either, not when Virgil was so clearly the Side for him, but Janus’s confidence and self-assurance amused him. He was right, Janus probably had the swagger to seduce whoever in the mindscape he wanted. Though he may be biased.

“I don’t really care if you do the whole romantic bit of a relationship,” Janus went on, putting his head back down. “Feelings can get kind of icky. You’re my best friend and I love you, I wouldn’t change that.”

Now, Remus knew Janus said that to comfort him but it just made him feel all kinds of bad. Guilty. Selfish. Ungrateful. He didn’t like these feelings. He was the Duke! He didn’t get down in the dumps. He was just pure, unfiltered nastiness. Not whatever this was.

He didn’t know if Janus expected a response or not but he just smiled awkwardly and patted Janus’s hair. Janus didn’t comment on how grimy his hands were and just relaxed against him, seeming to enjoy Remus’s fingers in his hair. It felt weirdly intimate to be doing this. It was nice, Remus supposed, but it felt foreign. Like he was missing something. Maybe he was missing something.

He tried to steer those thoughts away. He was naked in bed with his best friend, not fully clothed and crying in the shower alone like he normally was when these moments hit. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. He was… This was a good moment. Good things were happening. He’d just had an amazing night of mindblowing sex. His friend- partner, fuck buddy, boyfriend, whatever- had just told him he loves and accepts him. How could he be thinking about this right now?

Janus would tell him he wasn’t broken. That he wasn’t missing anything. That he was amazing the way he was. But Remus couldn’t find it in himself to bring it up right now. It was hard, not voicing his thoughts. He loved talking, spouting out every thought that crossed his mind. These ones though… He didn’t really want Janus worrying about. He already knew what Janus would say. Janus was a two-faced liar who could trick the smartest Side in the mindscape but Remus trusted him. Janus knew how to be serious. He knew how delicate Remus’s heart could be when it came to- to… He wouldn’t tell Remus anything about himself that he didn’t believe. It was just Remus who didn’t believe it.

Remus loved himself. He knew he was amazing. He loved his creations and that he could creep any Side and Thomas out. He just wanted to live his best life. But that little voice telling him something was wrong, giving him memories of a time before, would always be there.

Maybe it was time he listened to it.

=================

Roman just felt so freaking good.

His heart just felt so full. He just had so much love in him that he felt like he was going to burst. It thrummed in his chest, letting the feeling of life flow freely into his limbs. He didn’t know why he felt like this. Maybe it was because of the role he fulfilled as Thomas’s romantic facet and his fanciful side. Or maybe he was just so high on love that it got him all giddy like this. He didn’t know, he just knew he liked it. It was an amazing feeling that he just wanted to have forever.

But all good things had to come to an end.

Virgil withdrew from him, not quite letting go but enough that Roman craved his touch again. He leaned in for another kiss, and managed to successfully get one, before noticing the look in his boyfriend’s eyes. It wasn’t… a bad look. Not a new one either. Just somewhat different.

Virgil was definitely turned on. Expected, after making out for however long they’d spent doing just that. To be honest, Roman was pretty into it too and he could feel some arousal coming in. It was an exciting feeling, one only supplemented by the rush of affection he was feeling.

So why did he feel so uneasy?

Virgil slotted his palms over Roman’s hips and gave him a sultry look. “You want to do a bit more?”

Roman opened his mouth to respond but no words came out. He didn’t know if it was from arousal or fear. He locked eyes with Virgil and nodded, trying to look eager. Virgil looked… excited? Happy? Satisfied? Something. He looked something good at his response and started undoing the zipper and buttons on his pants. Roman looked away, not really wanting to watch despite all the feelings happening down there. It was only once Virgil’s fingers were hooked around his underwear that it became apparent something was wrong.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Don’t call me dude when we’re in bed. You’ll kill the mood.”

“I’m trying to kill the mood. You look hella uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.”

“You looked away when I took your pants off and you flinched when I touched your underwear. Is that comfortable in your world?”

“I’m fine, Virge. Let’s just keep going.”

“We don’t need to do this if you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to,” Roman insisted, gesturing vaguely to his crotch which was very visibly hard through his underwear.

Virgil didn’t budge. “Having a boner and wanting me to touch you are two different things, Princey.”

Roman sighed. “I know.”

“Consent is sexy.”

Roman sighed louder. “I know, Virgil.”

“Communication is-”

“I know, Virgil.”

“Come on, talk to me, Princey.”

“You’re still killing the mood.”

“I know, Roman,” Virgil responded, mimicking Roman’s tone, before giving him a serious look. “What’s up? If you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

Roman opened his mouth but, again, no words came out. How was he supposed to articulate his thoughts? He wanted to… do stuff. Sexual stuff. Touching. That sounded fun. Sex was supposed to be, like, a big thing in a relationship, right? So shouldn’t he want to do it, being the romance guy and all?

Maybe it was because sex was more of a Remus thing. Ew, no wait, he shouldn’t be thinking about his brother right now. Actually, that was a big turn off which was what he needed right now. But point was that sex was never his thing. Roman didn’t think about it much. Or at all. Should he? That was something people thought about, right?

Thinking about sex made him feel… gross. Not completely though? Thomas was a pretty sex positive guy so all the Sides generally viewed consestuall sex as a healthy part of a relationship but anytime Roman thought about sex in a more personal way, not as an abstract concept, he felt all weird. And he knew he shouldn’t. Sex was natural. Hundreds of generations of humans have been doing it. So why couldn’t he?

There was just this… disconnect. Between what, he wasn’t sure. His feelings, his body, arousal, desire, all of it. And it felt wrong. Like, it should be there. He didn’t know what it felt like but he could imagine it. He’d read about it and he could see it in his mind but when it came to the present moment, it just wasn’t there. He-

Odin’s eyepatch, Virgil was waiting for him to say something, wasn’t he?

“Can we… not?” Roman said weakly, hating how unsure he sounded. But to his relief, Virgil just nodded.

“That’s fine. We’re not ready,” Virgil responded. Roman couldn’t tell if he sounded disappointed or not. “But I, um, I’m going to go take a cold shower. Figuratively, not literally. I hate the cold. I’m going to go jer- I’m going to go take a shower. And you can do whatever you need to do or take one after me. And then we can just hang out. Does that sound alright?”

Roman was a bit surprised Virgil seemed so together. Not anxious. He was still a bit rambly but mostly together. Maybe he was just trying to put on a face for Roman’s sake. Either way, he was grateful that Virgil was taking the lead on this one, however odd it may be for the other Side. Smiling, he nodded. Virgil returned it and wandered off to the bathroom.

But when he returned, Roman was nowhere to be found.

=======================

They both slunk out in the night, stumbling to the Neutral Zone with similar goals in mind. Consciously or unconsciously, it was impossible to tell. They were just hurting and that was enough to draw them together.

Still, they looked surprised at the sight of each other, Roman on the stairs leading up and Remus surfacing from the basement. It was dark but the red and green of their clothes seemed to stand out. They stayed silent, staring at each other wordlessly, waiting to see who would move first.

It was a third figure who broke the silence.

“Sup guuurlssss,” Remy slurred as he drifted through the living room, seeming to materialize out of nowhere. Both of the twins jumped, startled by his sudden appearance, but Remy was already wandering towards the hallway by the time they realized who exactly it was. “Go to the dreamspace if you’re going to destroy anything, bitches. Toby will be pissed if you touch his shit. Byeeee.”

The twins watched the Neutral Side walk away, his shuffle making him seem to float away in a very dream-like manner. But that was just how Remy was and they could ignore him and soon they were once again focused on each other. Remus spoke first.

“So why are you here?”

“Why are you here?”

“I asked first.”

“But I’m older.”

“Explain or I fart and wake up the whole floor. And you know how smellicious this tank can-”

“Ugh. Okay, fine.”

“Well?”

“...”

“Princey.”

“What was the question?”

“Why are you here, Prince Boring?”

“Um, well…”

“Just spit it out, brother mine.”

“How do you sex?” Roman blurted bluntly.

Remus started at him. He blinked. Once. “What?”

“How do you do sex?” Roman repeated, looking flustered. “I can’t.”

To his credit, Remus was quiet for a full three seconds before bursting out laughing.

Roman scowled. “It’s not funny! I just… I can’t.”

Remus tried to smother his laughter to a series of giggles, wiping a couple fake- or real, who knows?- tears out of his eyes. “Oh Princey! You should’ve come to me sooner! I tried giving Seth some crash course kink lessons from yours truly but Toby hit me. Really hard. It was hot. Janus let me do my whole spiel on him but it’s no fun when you’re fucking the guy you’re teaching because he already knew all this stuff when he signed up to be my fuck buddy but now that you’re-”

“Stop. I already regret this,” Roman said, waving his hands. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Poopy.” Remus didn’t actually sound disappointed, a blessing in disguise.

“I just… can’t get into it.”

“I know what you mean,” Remus said, surprising Roman. When Roman didn’t speak, Remus continued. “I can’t do feelings. All that romantic stuff? Bleh. Not for me. But I feel bad because I think Janus would like it. I’ve tried but it just feels like it’s… not… there.”

Roman suddenly felt a surge of mutuality for his brother. He was voicing exactly how he felt. Well, not exact. Opposite, really. But he felt understood. “Do you think it’s because of the split?”

“I- Maybe,” Remus admitted with a shrug. He rubbed a finger under his nose. Roman almost reached out to stop him from picking his nose but he was just scratching his mustache. “It feels like… like… I’m a mirror. And I shattered. A long time ago. And someone taped me back together. They really tried but they did an awful job. There’s sharp pieces sticking out everywhere ready to cut your hands open so you can watch as you bleed out but the reflection’s all fucked up and you just see all the dark, awful… goop inside of you. And there are pieces missing. And I don’t know where they are.”

“They’re probably in me,” Roman said softly. “I don’t feel like-” He gestured loosely in Remus’s direction- “that. I feel like- like a mirror that broke but got put together with glue. They made something new and it’s- it’s art. But it’s still broken. You just can’t always tell but it’s real and it’s there.”

Remus nodded, uncharacteristically solemn. He was playing with his hands, like he was nervous. Roman noticed tiny cuts on his hands around his fingernails, like he was picking at them. He wasn’t picking now though, just fidgeting. Like Virgil. “Do you think we’d be whole together? As King Creativity? Do you remember if he felt normal?”

Roman hesitated. “I don’t remember. But I think… Remus, I feel so empty all the time. Like I’m only half a Side. And not just about the sex thing. I feel so- so- so-”

“Oblique?”

“Oblique,” Roman whispered. “And I want to feel normal. And I think maybe we can do that if we tried to… I don’t know, unsplit?”

Remus didn’t say anything but his face betrayed him. With decisiveness, he offered Roman his hand. And Roman accepted it.

No longer would they be broken mirrors of each other. No longer would they be oblique. Soon, they would be whole once again.

Next chapter

#fanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #arowrimo #aromantic #asexual #asec #janus sanders #deceit sanders #demus #roman sanders #prince roman #virgil sanders #prinxeity #creatvitwins #king creativity #read note for warnings #chapter 2 of 3

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freebooter4ever · 4 years

Photo

i found the photo i was looking for - to make up for the other one i shared where he is looking very blank. THIS one is more accurate

sanjeev does not pose for photos often and if he does he usually just stands and stares but here i caught him with his typical expression when laughing at me for doing something utterly ridiculous. In this case i was spending ten minutes giving him bullshit instructions ("wait you're just saying things now, this isnt actually doing anything for the photo") to set up this photo with "little sanjeev" and rainier:

He's behind the rock holding the cardboard cut out up. which all started bc (i looked this date up on my insta) aug 3 2017 the one weekend after months of our standing 'what mountain do we go up this saturday?' date that sanjeev couldnt make it to go hiking. so i told him that if he couldnt come i would make my OWN hiking buddy, so i did, and brought it to rainier and took photos of it everywhere and then posted it to fb and tagged him in it, and the photos sat there for a year till his mom found them, took a screenshot, and sent it to him with the caption "this looks a lot like you!" which he then sent me, which of course meant that now i had to get a photo of him AND the cardboard hiking buddy together, so much to sanjeev's embarrassment we hiked the entirety of granite with this attached to my pack....and then i made him help pose it. and then we put the photos on fb and tagged him for his mom to see.

Anyway the expression on cardboard mini sanjeev and the tshirt is an inside joke. He owns that tshirt, its yellow, and his friend gave it to him bc "this is the face you make all the time" which is false, but maybe only false around me bc during those times he is usually laughing. We have known each other since fall semester 2008 god awful 251 the hardest computer programming concepts class at carnegie besides OS. He has never had a girlfriend, never even a crush (i know, i interrogated his bff who has known him since he moved here in third grade and who went to college with us)(his parents and his bffs parents flew in to the US on the same plane)(and then moved to the same town like fate or something)(always thought that was way cool). After trying for about half a year during that shitty 251 class i finally gave up and decided we were always just gonna be bffs and he was probably asexual or aromantic or something.

After college he moved to seattle, and cmon if you move to a girls hometown you gotta expect her to be showing up at your door more often (literally at two am in one instance and he let me stay for the entire weekend and cry a lot), and my grandma met him when i talked him into helping me chaotically put up christmas lights for my grandparents (in the weeks before grandpa died) and my grandma made him hot chocolate and decided then and there that i was gonna marry this boy, but i refused to get my hopes up and.

Now he's met someone. And i should be goddamn happy for him.

#Journal shit #I am happy im just lonely and jealous that it was never me #Aso disappointed that this means i probably wont be able to go crash at his house and spend an entire weekend hiking with him anytime soon

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acesartemis · 4 years

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lol i’m not wasting my fucking time answering your 5 asks about if soupcore is queerbaiting or not. if you think it is, okay fine. then stop supporting the show and move on. don’t scour tags not meant for you and peoples post replies and attack people for their opinions. don’t pull other ships into it either.

tbh queerbaiting as it’s used on tumblr is not what it is. i’ve said it and i’ll stand by it. i also will not attack the cast, fandom, and crew for getting duped. just say this show isn’t doing it for me and move tf on. and ofc if a ship is popular and vocally hostile, cast and writers feel an obligation to pacify you to keep you watching. take things they say with a grain of salt.

as an aromantic asexual, ultimately i have a different view of romance related things than most. maybe look at things more objectively. but friendships not becoming a couple is NOT queerbaiting, and you owe every aromantic/asexuals an apology for always demanding romance when there never was one. i am an avid shipper too, but i know when to cut my losses and just enjoy my ships, canon or not. it’s queerbaiting if they keep making jokes and inferences to more - like betty/veronica kissing for no reason; buddie could be considered queerbaiting, in a way, but i’m not mad about it - then YES BE FUCKING MAD. and i know there’s real history of queerbaiting and i am NOT discounting that. but this instance of a close friendship not becoming romantic is not it.

pick your battles. there’s queer people with real problems in this world. lets focus on that.

#negativity #sg fandom #fandom bs #anti supercorp #queerbaiting

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queertazsecretsanta · 5 years

Text

A gift for @motherfuckingmagicbrian, created by @one-true-houselight!

Title: Craft Night

Summary: It’s the last Queer Meetup on the moon before Candlenights, and the group is making ornaments! A healthy dose of happy queer people, a good splash of gentle ribbing, and a smattering of angst. Enjoy, and Happy Candlenights!

Magnus put a pile of meatballs on his plate before going to sit down across from Taako. Taako looked at the plate and snorted. “Think you have enough meatballs, Magnus?”

“Well, I was planning on sharing-” Before Magnus could finish, both Carey and Killian cheered and reached over and grabbed meatballs off his plate.

“Hey, throw me one,” Avi called from next to Taako. Carey grabbed another meatball and tossed it to him.

Taako huffed before saying, “Hey y’all, could we make a concerted effort to not throw saucy projectiles while we’re working on art?” He grabbed a napkin from the pile on the table and made a tent for his ornament with exaggerated annoyance.

Johann walked over from the food table and leaned over Taako’s shoulder. “Taako, you’re a wizard.”

“And?”

“You could clean it with magic.”

“Spell slots, my good man-”

“Isn’t the cleaning one a cantrip?” Taako glared as Avi tried (and failed) to look innocent. While maintaining eye contact, the wizard reached across the table, grabbed a meatball, and threw it at Avi, who caught it with ease and ate it while laughing. The others, including Taako, joined in. As they quieted down, Johann sat next to Avi and grabbed a paper plate.

The six friends sat in the middle of a long table with crafting supplies that were once neatly laid out down its entirety. The other members of the Bureau of Balance’s Queer Meetup sat on both sides of the group, laughing and working with the paint, markers, and other tools. The activity of the night was making ornaments for the fast-approaching Candlenights.

While everyone else started shaping their paper plates, Magnus reached into his pocket and grabbed a piece of wood that had clearly been made to be the base of his ornament. Carey looked over as Magnus reached for paint. “Man, that looks awesome! I wish I could work with wood like that.”

Magnus smiled as he mixed some paint on a piece of paper. “Thanks! It’s a labor of love.” He carefully took a thin brush and started to outline a bear’s head on the wood in purple.

“When did you get started with carpentry, Magnus?” Avi asked asked as he traced a cannon onto his plate.

“Well, I worked with a carpenter back in Raven’s Roost…” Magnus’ voice trailed off.

Avi’s eyes widened at Magnus’ hesitance, saying, “Oh shit man, I didn’t mean to bring that up-”

Magnus cut him off. “No, no, it’s fine. It’s not that, it’s… that’s the last time I really remembered learning carpentry, but I went into that job with base knowledge.” He shrugged. “I guess I just picked it up as I grew up.”

Everyone went back to work on their ornaments in silence for a few moments, letting the tension ease out of the space. Killian finished cutting out a heart, then handed it to Carey to cut in half to create their bases. Taako looked over at Magnus’ ornament. “Oh my god, you’re doing a bear. How did I forget to do our race animals?” He looked down at his ornament, a swirly rainbow pattern he had enchanted to sparkle. “How can I add in the noble mongoose?” The others chuckled as he grabbed a piece of paper and tried to draw the animal on it.

One of the guards further down the table perked up at the mention of the race. “I don’t think I’ve seen you guys since the race! That was so cool!” Magnus turned excitedly to them and started chatting about the race as he filled in detail on the bear.

“Well, of course we all know the most important player in that race.” Taako paused for dramatic effect. “Garyl.”

Avi and Johann, who had been thoroughly filled in on the race when the three reclaimers had returned, turned to have their own conversation as battlewagon talk swept over the whole table.

“Are you really making a cannon ornament, Avi?”

“Well, yeah! I putting it on the cannon, after all.”

Johann laughed. “Not on your, you know, Candlenights bush?”

“Nah, I want to spruce up the ol’ pea shooter,” Avi said with a smile. Johann watched as he seemed to trace something being shot from the cannon.

“That doesn’t look like a transport ball.”

“That’s because it’s not.” When Avi didn’t elaborate, Johann raised an eyebrow, much to Avi’s delight. “You’ll see when it’s done.”

Johann couldn’t help but laugh; Avi was a delightful person, and Johann was glad to be his friend, and to get to laugh at his jokes, and to talk to him about music, and…

“What are you doing? That’s a lot of black and grey, buddy.” Avi’s question snapped Johann out of his thoughts. Thoughts he should really dissect, but not tonight.

“I’m just doing the more neutral colors first, then adding the colors later. See, this is gonna be the ace and aro flags fading into a music staff, and I’m trying to draw a violin over here.” Johann pointed out the elements on his half painted ornament as Avi nodded.

“Music staff’s what the notes go on, right?” Johann had been teaching Avi a little more about music; Avi not only wanted to be a little more musically inclined, but it meant he got to see the bard more often. Johann tended to be on the more subdued side, but when he talked about music, his eyes lit up. Avi loved it when that happened.

Avi’s thoughts drifted as Johann nodded happily, but they were brought to a halt as he looked at where Johann had indicated the ace flag was going. “Hey, uh, Johann?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you did the ace flag backwards,” Avi said while pointing at the ornament.

Johann’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. I thought the black was on the bottom.” Avi shook his head. “Well, fuck.” He started laughing, and Avi joined in.

“I mean, you can just say it’s an artistic interpretation,” Avi joked through giggling.

“The most important rule of any artist!” Johann said with a smile, “Everything was intentional, even mistakes!” They both cracked up and continued decorating their ornaments.

“How’s your mongoose coming, Taako?” Race talk had died down significantly and everyone had gone back to quietly talking and decorating.

“Fantastically, my good man.” Taako held up the mongoose, which he was just cutting out. “It looks like it could come alive in my hands.”

“If that came alive in your hand, I’d run away screaming,” said Killian, who looked over from where she was drawing something colorful onto her half of the heart.

“Well of course you would, mongeese are formidable creatures!” Taako jokingly made the paper animal walk up to Killian and growl.

“Is it mongeese?” Carey asked with a frown.

“It sounds better than mongooses,” reasoned Magnus.

“But maybe it’s like moose, where it’s both singular and plural?”

“Carey, my dear,” Taako said, “I see your point, but how could you try to deprive the world of the joy that comes from the word mongeese?”

Carey cackled. “Fair enough, my dude.”

Taako grabbed the glue and looked over at Magnus, who had finished his bear and was adding in the colors of the trans and bi flags. For some reason as he looked at the former, he felt a tug at the back of his mind. Magnus looked up to see Taako staring at his ornament with an inscrutable look.

“You ok, Taako?” Taako seemed to shake himself back to reality.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s…nothing. Just my brain being weird.”

“Alright.” Magnus smiled. “Hey, our new digs have room for more decorations. Think Garfield sells pride flags?” Taako grinned.

“I bet he does! Or maybe he could order some.” Taako turned to Carey and Killian. “Hey, does Fantasy Costco sell pride stuff?”

“FANTASY COSTCO, WHERE ALL YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE!” Magnus suddenly yelled, making Taako wince. Carey, Killian, and some people from other parts of the table joined in for “GOT A DEAL FOR YOOOOOOU!” as Taako put his head in his hands.

“That jingle will kill me. I will die.”

Killian laughed, saying, “To actually answer your question, Taako, Fantas-”

“Don’t say it, he’ll sing again.”

“Ok, Garfield’s store does has some general stuff, and he’s said in the past he’d order things for people if they wanted something specific.”

“Yeah,” Johann piped up, “he’s ordering me some ace stuff. I’m getting socks!”

“Fantastic,” Taako said with a grin. “Our apartment will be popping.” He finished glueing his mongoose to his ornament, then held it up to show it off. The original sparkly rainbows worked surprisingly well as a background for the furry addition. He grinned at the chorus of oohs. “Thank you, thank you. Now, I would of course be willing to provide my expert advice to you all if you so desire.”

Johann and Avi had been chatting about Bureau business as they decorated, but a natural silence had fallen for the past couple of minutes. Avi looked over at Johann, who seemed to be staring into space. “Your ornament looks good, Johann.” Johann looked over at Avi and smiled before looking at his ornament. The flags and music staffs were finished, and he was almost done with the detailing on the violin.

“Thanks. I still can’t believe I got the flag wrong,” Johann said with a chuckle. “I guess I only found it recently, so it makes sense I would mess up.”

“Yeah,” Avi said, “yours isn’t like mine, where we get taught the order in school. ROY G BV!” Johann laughed and continued painting. He felt calm, but more of a happy calm than normal. Not that he was normally sad, but normally he was more…neutral, he supposed. His job sometimes got a little mundane when he wasn’t having to make the world forget him…he shook himself out of that. Dwelling on that fact wasn’t healthy.

“I’m glad you did find it though.” Avi’s suddenly serious tone brought Johann back.

“Found what?”

“Your flags. Everyone should get to be themselves, and get to celebrate it.�� Johann smiled. While being asexual or aromantic wasn’t looked down upon or anything, it was still not as well known as other identities. Hell, he hadn’t heard of it until a few months ago, when he was hanging out with Avi.

Avi and Johann were laying on the quad, giggling and passing a flask between them. It was a late evening in spring, the slight chill in the air warded off by the flask’s contents.

“Hey Johann,” Avi whispered, “you ever have a girl? Or a guy? Or someone else?”

“Not really.” Johann spoke in what he clearly thought was also a whisper, saying, “I never really clicked with anyone, I guess.”

“Really? Man, whoever you like is really missing out.” Avi immediately blushed, but Johann didn’t seem to react to the comment, instead getting lost in thought.

“Whoever I like. Right. Here’s the thing…” Avi pushed himself into a sitting position to look at Johann. The bard had never mentioned his sexuality in the past, but had laughed at Avi’s near-constant gay jokes (mostly variations on “I can shoot this cannon straight, but that’s the only straight thing I can do!”), so Avi had always assumed he was queer in some way, but…

“I don’t know, man. I…when I think about relationships, I can see myself with anyone…kind of? But it’s not like I see someone and go ‘yeah, I want to do things with you!’, it’s more, like, I want to hang with people and talk but…I don’t know, I’m not making sense.” Johann finally looked up at Avi. Avi was surprised to see fear in his eyes.

“Hey, no, it’s fine. What you’re describing, I have friends like that.”

Johann’s eyes widened, and voice lost all pretense of whispering. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, it sounds like you’re ace. Maybe aro too.” Johann sat up and listened intently as Avi explained that yeah, some people don’t experience attraction, and he felt like a weight was lifting off his shoulders he never knew was there. As Avi finished, Johann felt like pieces were falling into place around him, and it was wonderful, but it was also so much-

“Hey, you ok?” Johann shrugged? “Want a hug?” The bard nodded. “Bring it in, my guy.” And the two sat next to each other, embracing, as Johann processed that there were words for him, that he wasn’t just off, wasn’t just missing something. It was a while before Avi spoke again.

“If you want, we could call some of my friends and you could talk to them too.”

“That would be great,” Johann said into Avi’s shoulder. He laughed. “But maybe not now. It’s like…” He tried to check his watch, but found it wasn’t on his wrist. “Shit, it’s, um,” he floundered before staring intently at the sky.

“Shit, dude, can you tell the time by the stars?”

After a long pause, Johann responded. “No.” Avi started laughing. “But I thought I’d try, I guess? Fuck. Well, it’s late, and I’m drunk and having life changing revelations. We can call them tomorrow. Tomorrow?”

“We should be able to do that.”

“Thank you, Avi.” Avi squeezed his shoulder, not trusting himself to speak as tears streamed down his face.

Magnus smiled as he carefully finished writing ‘Happy Candlenights!’ on a light grey ribbon. He checked his ornament’s paint to find it was still tacky, so he set the ribbon down and started to look at the other’s creations. Carey was detailing a line of rainbow daggers through the center of her half-heart, separating the words ‘Happy’ and ‘Candlenights’ written in a swirly hand. Killian was drawing simple ducks along the border of her ornament. She seemed to be letting a rainbow lollipop dry in the center.

From his angle, Magnus couldn’t quite see Avi’s or Johann’s, but figured they would show them off eventually. He sat back and gave a contented sigh. Taako looked up. “Everything ok, big guy?”

“Oh yeah,” Magnus assured, “I’m just happy. I haven’t been in one place long enough to be part of a Queer group in a while, and I’m just glad to be here with all of you.” He smiled at everyone as he continued, “I don’t know if I realized how much I missed having something like this. It’s…” He paused, trying to find the words. Finally, he simply said, “It’s hard to describe. Sorry for being sappy.”

“Nah, don’t apologize Magnus. This is a really positive space, and I’m glad you’re feeling it,” Killian said with a smile. She reached over and grabbed Magnus’ shoulder reassuringly. Across the table, Taako tried to wipe his eyes without people noticing. It didn’t work, and Carey passed him a clean napkin.

“I’m fine, really,” he said as he wiped his eyes again and Carey held his free hand, “Magnus just had to go and be emotional.” Everyone chuckled before Taako continued, “But, yeah. I, uh…didn’t exactly cultivate companionship as well as one might hope, before this. And it’s nice. It’s like it fills a hole I didn’t even know was there.” And Taako felt that peculiar sadness he sometimes got, but he also felt a peace, looking at the faces around him. “And as much as I love all my friends I have, there’s something about hanging out with people like me, at least every so often, that’s important.”

By this point, Avi and Johann had looked up and were nodding at what Taako had said. The six reached out and held the others-hands, shoulders, whatever they could reach-and smiled at each other, not really doing much about the tears running down their faces. After a bit, they mostly untangled themselves, and Avi spoke up.

“Hey, I need people who will appreciate my gay jokes!” As everyone laughed, he held up his ornament, which depicted the cannon. But instead of shooting out a transport ball, it was shooting out a rainbow flag. “See, it can’t even shoot straight!”

The whole table laughed harder. Everyone started showing off their completed ornaments as Magnus carefully glued his ‘Happy Candlenights’ ribbon above the bear on his own. Once they had all sufficiently appreciated their friends’ art, they all started helping clean up the table, stacking unused supplies to be put away, throwing away dirty paper, and washing paint brushes. Soon, the room was clear and people started plating leftovers to take home. The six friends waved goodbye and wandered back to their beds, ready to sleep. Their ornaments hung on their bushes (besides Avi’s, which hung off the main cannon), a testament to who they were and who they loved.

#motherfuckingmagicbrian #one-true-houselight #queercandlenights #taz #the adventure zone #taako #magnus #carey #killian #avi #johann #fic #submission

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politicalautist-blog · 7 years

Text

It has come to my attention that some of you have no idea who £10 guy is or what the fuck that last post was about. So, uh, buckle in. Let’s revisit... The Tale of Ten Pounds Man.

The year: 2015. The place: a bullshit Bioethics course at university. (that course was bullshit for many, many reasons which I will not go into here because it’s irrelevant. but it was a shit course. trust me.)

Now, in this course, one of our assessed projects was a group presentation on An Topic. The topic isn’t relevant. What is relevant is that we were assigned groups and for around an hour in each of the full-morning classes, we were meant to have a group work session, discuss Ethical Dilemmas, and plan our project.

hahahaha no, that is never how that shit happens

In my group, besides myself and @lordsirrus, there were two girls (Firah, my flatmate from first year and a fucking angel, and... I wanna say Taylor? whatever not important.), one guy who basically never showed up, and... £10 guy.

I assume he had an actual name but he is £10 guy always and forever. Kind of a standard dudebro, spent half the time on Tinder and half the time bitching about how there was no point doing work. Which... well, we basically weren’t working anyway, so whatever.

@lordsirrus and I wound up chatting a lot in these sessions, because we’re nerdlords. On this particular occasion, we were shooting the shit about being asexual, autistic nerds and the intersection of those three things. (n.b. i no longer identify necessarily as asexual but i did at that point)

This merges seamlessly into a discussion with the others in the group over what the heck asexuality is. Really no interest in sex? Was it caused by something? So you don’t ever have relationships? Oh, Jormy, you do actually have a boyfriend and he IDs as ace too? Do you ever have sex? Like, would you have sex with a guy?

*record scratch*

Sorry, what, £10 guy? I mean, yes? Yeah? I... this is an awkward kind of question from a near-stranger in a classroom but I will attempt to ans--

“Would you have sex with a guy for ten pounds?”

...

...Okay, what?

This is the point at which I start wondering if this is a prank. Because, boy, what? Being a loserdork who is bad at extricating myself from awkward situations, I attempt to explain to him that £10 is ridiculously below market rate, that it barely covers travel and time, and that if he ever offers a sex worker £10 for sex he is going to get laughed out of Dodge.

A moment passes. I’d like to say in silence, but tbh around me there is no silence, only inane rambling about sex work running costs and also did you actually just ask me this in a conversation about my lack of interest in sex my dude?

“...So, uh, would you for ten pounds?”

NO, dude. I imagine the face I was making could best be described as “zoologically improbable and/or frightening to small children” as I manage something along the lines of “I just explained to you that £10 is under no circumstances enough, why are you still asking about sex for £10???”

“Well,” he says - and the rest of this post has been a paraphrase but I swear to you this is verbatim - “ten pounds is all I’ve got.”

Dude.

Buddy. Pal. Friendo. No. Is, I hope, what I communicated via the medium of spluttering and waving my hands in mute disbelief.

He sat back in his chair, looking thoughtful, or at least as thoughtful as aman can look while also blatantly trying to reopen Tinder on his phone. I start to breathe again and get my barely-suppressed laughter under control. That was... bizarre.

And then

then he sits back up, and looks at @lordsirrus, a man whose primary contribution to this incredibly awkward discussion has been to say that he’s more asexual than I am, is basically aromantic, and has zero interest in anything surrounding sex.

“Hey,” says £10 guy, in the slow tone of a man who has Figured It Out. “Would you have sex with a man for £10?”

That, ladies and gentlemen, was the straight-up weirdest day of my four-year university career.

#the saga of £10 guy #cw: sex? sex work? idek how to tag this honestly #also this is my recollection of it and may not be entirely accurate

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ec-sanderssides · 7 years

Text

Priorities

Sorry this took so long. I just really wanted to get this right. It’s a topic that’s quite close to my heart, so it needed to be perfect. I hope you like it. Also I’m tagging @obviouslyelementary because I thought you might appreciate it. Anyway, enjoy.

The other three weren’t being subtle.

Logan wasn’t sure how they hadn’t figured it out by now. If he, the least emotionally-driven trait, had been able to deduce the reason for the stammered words, lingering looks, and “accidental” touches, surely the three of them should have been able to.

He really hoped they realized their mutual attraction to each other and became romantically involved soon. He could only take so much sighing and pining in the mindscape. To this end, he had begun to leave the three of them alone with each other more. Begging off movie nights, stepping out early from family dinners, claiming the need for work more and more often in the evenings.

He didn’t mind. Really. While he did enjoy spending time with the others, he recognized that they might not be comfortable admitting their romantic affections to each other while he was present. And he understood the importance of such connections to others, despite never experiencing romantic attraction himself. So he could stand to spend a few nights alone.

He made sure to keep this thought firmly in mind as he quietly slipped away from the living room, where he could see the others making a blanket fort. Morality’s idea probably, although the other two didn’t seem to be complaining.

When he reached his room, he went to pick up the latest book he had been reading, The Song of Achilles. It had been recommended to Thomas a while back by one of his fans, and Logan had been intrigued enough by the concept to pick it up.

However, while the book was well-written and engaging, as Logan stared down the pages, he just couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm for it. Perhaps something less romantically oriented would be better for tonight. And besides, he did have papers to grade.

Setting aside the book, Logan pulled the pile of essays into his lap, absentmindedly uncapping a red pen. He hoped the others were having a good night, and that they would sort themselves out. They were his dearest friends, and the closes bonds he would ever have. He wanted them to be happy. They deserved it, and each other.

Thankfully it was only two weeks later, before Logan’s quiet meddling had bore fruit. Somehow, it has seemed crass to press for more detail, one of the outings he had excused himself from had resulted in confessions spilling out, and the three were now happily dating. Logan was glad for them.

Only,he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit of dissatisfaction. For him things hadn’t changed that much. Some part of Logan had thought that once all the romantic feelings had been worked out, he could resume his routines with the others. And yet, he still tended to duck out more evenings that not.

It wasn’t as thought the others were unwelcoming, but there was definite sense of awkwardness and intrusion now. Logan had sat in on one movie night after the three of them had gotten together, but had left halfway through the first movie. The way the three of them and acted had felt so much like a date. And well, who wanted a fourth wheel on their dates? They were probably glad he had left.

It wasn’t as if he never saw the others. Morality still made time to cook with him, an activity Anxiety had little interest in, and Prince was abysmal at. Anxiety still let himself be dragged into impromptu debates. And Prince still dragged him out into the forest to identify whatever new creature or animal he had found this time.

So really, this new distance between them was nothing to be concerned about. In fact, it should have been expected. Romantic relationships were prioritized, Logan knew this well. It was only natural for the other three to focus more on each other now. It was logical even.

(And yet, despite all his rationalization. Logan still felt small shred of loneliness slip into him. He forced himself to ignore it. There was nothing to be done)

In the weeks that followed, Logan kept to his new routine. He had to say, it did do wonders for his productivity. And he’d still had time to finish several books he had been meaning to read for quite some time. So it wasn’t all bad.

He had also been sure to express his happiness for the others at multiple intervals, as well as assuring them that he himself was quite content.

As such, he thought he had been able to conceal his more selfish feelings, but something must have slipped, as Morality had approached him.

“Hey, buddy,” the more cheerful said, smiling, “What’s up?”

‘Not much,” Logan said, glancing at him. “I’m just doing some prep work for upcoming videos.”

“Anything pressing,” Morality asked. His tone was seemingly light-hearted, but there was an edge of something else. Logan couldn’t place it.

“I suppose there’s nothing too urgent,” Logan replied cautiously.

“Sooo, you can come hang out with us this evening,” Morality said, wheedling. “We can watch Big Hero 6.”

Logan felt an excuse automatically rise from his lips. “I’m sorry, Morality, but I also planned to do some grading this evening. Perhaps next time.”

“Will there ever actually be a next time, or do you plan on avoiding us forever?” Prince interjected, leaning against the doorway.

Morality turned and frowned at him. “Roman…”

“Look, Morality, I know you said you would handle it, but quite frankly, I want answers.” Prince said, coming more fully into the room. Anxiety trailed after him.

Morality sighed, then looked back at Logan. “He, he does kind of have a point. You haven’t been spending much time with us lately. It’s a little worrying.”

Logan felt his shoulders hunch a little. He hadn’t intended to worry them.

“My apologies,” he said softly. “I only hoped to make your more comfortable.”

Anxiety raised his eyebrow skeptically. “Dude, what part of avoiding us like the freaking plague was supposed to make us more comfortable?”

“I just didn’t want to intrude,” Logan explained. “The three of you are romantically linked now. I am not. It was only logical to give you space to explore and enjoy your new affections without the awkwardness of my presence.”

“Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean, we don’t want you around!’ Morality exclaimed.

“That’s not what I meant,” Logan hastened to assure him. He hesitated before continuing. He had never told the others about his orientation. It had seemed unimportant before. But perhaps now was the time to come out, as it were.

“I’m aromantic,” he stated simply, not letting his face reveal any of his nervousness. “I do not, and likely never will, experience romantic attraction. There’s nothing wrong like that, and I’m perfectly content as I am. But back to the situation at hand.”

He took in a deep breath, one hand going up to adjust his glasses, the only hint as to his agitation aside from his pounding heart. The emotionally charged atmosphere was getting to him.

“Despite not experiencing romantic attraction,” he continued. “I am aware of its importance to others. I know that romantic relationships are held to be the most important form of relationships, that they are prioritized over platonic ones. As such, after the three of you got together. I realized that your new relationship would be your priority, and sought to make that easier for you, by excusing myself when necessary.”

He looked up at them. The three of them seemed oddly upset looking.

He gentled his tone. “It’s nothing bad,” he told them “And I don’t mind distancing myself a bit. I’ve become enormously productive actually. Perhaps this all was for the best.”

He pulled his lips up into a smile. It didn’t feel fully natural.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” he said. “I’ll go back to my room to work.”

He turned away from others, and began walking down the hallway. Everything he had said had been true. (So why did he feel so sad?)

Back in the common area, Anxiety was the first one to break the silence that had followed Logic’s departure.

“This feels wrong,” he said flatly. “I don’t know how we can fix it, but this feels wrong.”

The words snapped Patton out of his stupor. “I agree,” he said, running one hand through his hair. “I know he said everything was fine, but this doesn’t feel fine!”

“Yeah, and all that bullshit about how he shouldn’t be our priority,” Anxiety said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “What was up with that?”

“I don’t know,” Patton sighed. “Roman, what do you think?”

But there was no response from the royal.

“Roman?” Patton turned to look at him. The other side was on his phone. When he felt the other two staring at him, he looked up.

“What?” he defended himself. “I was looking up aromanticism. I’d never heard of it before”

“Whatever,” Anxiety said, turning back towards Patton. “Seriously, do you have any solutions? Because I’ve got nothing.”

Patton pursed his lips. “We could try making him show up to things like movie nights?” he suggested uncertainly. “Don’t take no for an answer?”

“If he feels like he’s intruding, that’s not going to stop even if we make him show up,” Anxiety replied, shaking his head. "Try again.”

They went on for a few minutes like that, Patton offering ideas, Anxiety pointing out the problems with each one. Finally Patton threw up his hands in frustration.

“I give up!” he said. “I just want some way to show him that he’s just as important to us, and that we care about him, even if we aren’t dating him. Why is that so hard to figure out?”

“Actually, I may have a solution,” Prince said, still staring at his phone. Anxiety and Patton turned to face him.

He looked up. “Have either of your heard the term ‘queerplatonic' before?”

When Logan came down for breakfast the next morning and saw the other three waiting for him with expectant looks on their faces, he could help but to groan internally. He really hadn’t been trying to cause a fuss.

“Salutations,” he said, pretending to be oblivious to the atmosphere. “Are those waffles?”

“Logan,” Morality stepped forward, and it seemed there was no avoiding this. “We have something to ask you.”

“Yes?” Logan said, arching an eyebrow.

“I was doing some research on aromanticism last night,” Prince said, stepping forward, “and I came across something interesting. I assume you’re familiar with the concept of queerplatonic relationships.”

Logan’s brow furrowed.

A queerplatonic relationship, a relationship that is not romantic but involves a close platonic emotional connection beyond what most people consider friendship. The commitment level in a queerplatonic relationship is often considered to be similar to that of a romantic relationship.

He was familiar with the term, but he wasn’t sure why Roman was bringing it up.

“Logan,” Morality was saying, his voice gentle. “We want to be in a queerplatonic relationship with you.”

Logan’s brain broke. They-they couldn’t possibly be asking what he thought they were asking.

“Wh-what?” he managed to stammer out, scrambling to get his thoughts back in working order.

“We want to be in a queerplatonic relationship with you,” Anxiety said boldly, moving out of the shadows. “Because all that bullshit before, about priorities and stuff, none of that’s true. We care about just as much as we care about each other. You’re not some freaking intruder.”

“I, be that as it may,” Logan said carefully. “You can’t be serious. This wouldn’t be like the bond the three of you share, and quite frankly, alloromantic people tend to hold romantic relationships in higher esteem.”

“Who cares if it’s different?“ Prince said, sounding frustrated. “My relationship with Anxiety isn’t anything like my relationship with Patton, but I still love them both. Neither of them is less important than the other. And as for the second part, do you really think so little of us? That we would value you less simply because of who you are?”

“I, well, no” Logan began, his head now really spinning, but his traitorous heart was oddly hopeful.

“We love you,” Morality said simply. “Even if we’re not in love with you, we love you. And we want to show you that. The only question is, do you feel the same way?”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut.

“Yes.” he whispered. “Yes, I do. I always have. You, you’ve been my closest friends, the deepest relationship I’ve ever had. You’ve been my partners, in everything.”

Arms wrapped around him. “Then that’s the only thing that matters,” Morality murmured. “We can figure out everything else later.”

Another set of arms. “Does this mean you’ll come back to movie nights?” Anxiety asked. “Because it’s not the same without someone else to snark with.”

Prince’s arms wrapped around all three of them. “I’m so relieved this worked out,” he exclaimed. “I love a happy ending!”

Logan couldn’t help but to laugh. Even if he’d had Prince’s imagination, he never could have imagined this. Standing in the kitchen, surrounded by the warmth of his friends, no, partners, Logan felt his loneliness melt away. He had been wrong before, about the priories.

He had never been so happy about being mistaken.

#logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #polyam sanders #kind of?#I really hope you guys like it #this was really emotional to write #fanfic #my fic

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