I’ve Just Got Alot Of Feelings.

Patton: I’ll have you know that I do yoga and Wii Sports, so who are you calling ‘weak’, Mister?

Logan: Just yesterday you asked me to open a pickle jar for you.

Anathema: More like, let me run this bi you.

Crowley: Let’s ace-ess the situation.

I kNEW I wasn’t the only prinxiety goblin who thought it

But honestly

Remus: I knew Virgil before you did. We go way back...

Roman:

Remus: waaaaaay back ;););)

HOO BOY

parents!prinxiety raising logan.

think about it.

logan takes after his quieter father, but can get just as overdramatic as his other dad when he wants to

roman twirling around the kitchen making breakfast in the mornings, and logan unconsciously perking up whenever he realizes that his dad made his “ultra special absolutely wonderful genius AND incredible yes that’s their proper name virgil deal with it” crofter’s waffles

the family rule of “whoever’s up first makes the coffee, because we’ll all kill someone without it”

virgil helping logan deal with school-related (*cough* perfectionism-related) anxiety and roman cheering him up once he’s sufficiently calmed down

roman and virgil getting suuuuuper competitive on family game nights. it doesn’t matter how much they love each other, once uno is broken out, no holds are barred

logan and roman watch bill nye and mythbusters together. it’s their thing. sorry, i don’t make the rules.

virgil is incredibly nervous the first time logan goes to school. everything goes fine, but he still sweeps his kid up in a quick hug when he picks him up

roman who loves to travel and logan who hates it, prompting roman to dramatically bemoan “how did i RAISE you?” while virgil snickers in the background

logan the sass king @ his parents. his wit gets progressively drier as he ages. virgil is so very proud.

“we’re a family of cynical, horrible bastards. high five!” –virgil, at some point, probably

roman frequently has music blaring through the house, and occasionally virgil will let him sweep him up in a dance

somehow, logan is still worse at modern slang than his parents. it’s a problem

god, do his dads ever tease logan the first time he lets slip he may possibly be infatuated. it’s a nightmare. he refuses to tell them anything pertaining to his non-existant love life after that.

virgil paints stars on logan’s ceiling in glow in the dark paint one day while he’s at school. logan later learns that they’re painted in the alignment they were in on the day he was adopted

(to this day, he refuses to admit he cried upon hearing that)

roman and virgil watching old home videos of young logan and just killing themselves with laughter

logan threatening to burn said videos and then obliterate any remaining trace of them

(and one day, one lovely, infuriating, horrible day, logan is dragged along by his dad to go meet the new neighbours, and, upon greeting a boy with a surprisingly sharp wit hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses and a bubbly smile, logan races back to his bedroom, face flushed, and screams into a pillow)

(and another day, a little later on, patton’s arm is linked with his as he reluctantly grumbles out to his fathers that he’s his boyfriend, and rolls his eyes in embarrassment when his dad replies with “about frickin TIME!”)

(and a third day, much, much later on, virgil holds roman’s hand as they hear bells chime and watch a second son become part of their family)

(and that?)

(it’s perfect)

taglist

Virgil: And?

Patton: Good News - We didn’t have to wait around for a locksmith.

Patton: Bad News - Roman finds it very concerning that I know how to pick locks, and tried to unlock my Tragic Backstory™. I was too embarrassed to admit that the reason I learned was because, at thirteen, I figured that was the kind of skill that would impress hot people.

Patton: Good News - A hot person saw me do it.

–

(under the cut)

Bonus round: Logan’s eyes change color, I needed a reason for Virgil tokdo the thing. 

–

actually there is, she has one line at the end when she says “how do you know?”

ok I just skimmed though the movie again, and here she is in the beginning, she just doesn’t say anything, and you wouldn’t guess she was a girl because they didn’t do that weird humanizing, tits and longer eyelashes thing that most movies with animals do.

>Remmy is smaller

dad: sure son

remmy: also im tired of eating literal rotted garbage

Pairings: Logicality

Warnings: None

Note: I needed to write something to clear my head… enjoy my Single Dad au.

Logan drove with his hands tight on the steering wheel, glancing back at Virgil in the mirror. He was still strapped into his booster seat. His favorite stuffed bunny sat on the seat next to him. Logan had even allowed Virgil a one-time-only snack in the car. And yet… Virgil looked sad as he stared out the car window. Logan sighed.

“Virgil,” he said softly as he pulled to a stop at a red light. “I’m sorry I can’t take the day off for your reading fair.”

“Book fair,” Virgil pouted in response. Logan nodded and stepped on the gas, wincing when someone honked at him for taking too long to move.

“Yes. Book fair. I apologize. But,” he hit his turn signal and Virgil wiggled his little feet with the tik-tok of the blinker. “I can’t take a day off without a notice in advance. I need to work to earn money… to provide for you. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Virgil mumbled, his voice sour.

Logan pursed his lips. “I love you, Virgil. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said again, a sad inflection underlining the word.

Logan parked the car and glanced at the park; it was packed. It wasn’t surprising. It was the nicest park this side of the city. Children ran, screaming and laughing while their chaperones stood by the benches, gossiping. Logan grimaced at that. He hated going to parks for that reason… the small talk. It was physically exhausting.

Logan unbuckled his seatbelt and glanced back at Virgil. He was glaring at his shoes. Logan sighed. Of it meant seeing a smile on Virgil’s face, a little exhaustion would be a fair price.

“Do you see where we are?” Logan said as he indicated to the windshield.

Virgil glanced up. His eyes went wide with wonder. He whispered, “The park.”

“Yes, the park… your favorite park.” Logan got out of the car and helped Virgil out of his car seat, setting him on the ground just in time for Virgil to scamper to the curb. “Wait for me, Virgil. Hold my hand… hold my… Virgil.” He grabbed the stuffed bunny from the car and held it out to his son. “You forgot Fluffybottom.”

“Miss Fluffybottom,” Virgil corrected as he took the bunny and hugged it.

After a bit more coaxing, Virgil agreed to hold Logan’s hand as they approached the park. Logan began to feel anxious at the sight of so many children… he’d have to keep an eye on Virgil. Just to be safe.

When they got a little closer, Virgil tugged on his hand. Logan crouched down to Virgil’s level, watching as Virgil shyly pointed at the swings. Logan raises his eyebrows.

Virgil has started to display symptoms of selective mutism after his mother left them. Pediatricians told Logan he was overreacting, but Logan knew his son. And he knew that he wasn’t going to simply outgrow it. He was a veritable chatterbox when they were at home… yet he never spoke in public.

This wasn’t a bad thing. Logan loves him regardless. He had researched the disorder. He’d learned everything he could. Now, he just had to learn how to understand what Virgil wanted when incapable of saying it out loud.

“You want to go on the swings?” Logan asked, gentle and supportive. Virgil gave a meek nod. Logan held out his hands. “I’ll hold Miss Fluffybottom. Do you need me to push you?”

Virgil shook his head and shot off toward the swing set. Logan couldn’t help but feel a pang of unease; so many things could go wrong. So many injuries, so many accidents…

Logan heard a child abruptly begin to wail. His medical training kicked in and he sought out the sound. A little boy. Three… maybe four years old. He was on the ground. Bleeding? Too hard to tell from a distance.

Before he could think, Logan was running to the child. A small crowd of confused, chittering children had formed around the boy. Logan gently nudged the other children away, trying to assess the situation.

“Roman!” A voice screeched from the benches. Logan quirked an eyebrow. The father? Probably. He should’ve been watching his son more carefully. Logan didn’t lift his head as the other man approached. “Roman, baby! Sweetheart! It’s okay, I’m here. Daddy’s here!”

When the man tried to reach out and take Roman, Logan swatted his hands. “Sir, please. I am a doctor. I’d like to check his condition.”

The father leaned back. “H-his condition? He… he just fell a little. He’s not hurt that bad, is he?”

Roman whimpered and held his knee. It was red and beginning to swell. An impressive patch of scratches was starting to well blood, but it wouldn’t need stitches. Logan took his ankle and gave the leg a few test movements… Roman sniffled, but otherwise didn’t react. Logan let out a breath of relief.

“Good news. This is superficial,” Logan said before he adjusted his glasses pointedly. Roman looked up at him with confused, watery eyes, and Logans heart melted. “It’s nothing major. You’re going to be just fine.”

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Roman’s father said with a shaky laugh. “The way you talked… you made it sound like he was gonna lose the leg!”

“Yes, well…” Logan stood and pulled Roman up onto his feet. Roman immediately lifted his hands and grabbed at Logan’s shirt. Without thought, he hoisted Roman onto his hip and turned to Romans father. “You should keep a closer eye… on…”

Logan’s words died in his throat. He was looking at the face of an angel. Warm, compassionate eyes behind thick, pink-framed glasses. Proud lips that were a perfect Cupid’s bow. And soft, curling brown hair that fell over his brow in the perfect way.

This man was too perfect to be real.

“I uh… I’m sure sorry about that. I’ll make sure to watch him a little better next time,” Roman’s father said, his face flushing a little. He held up a stuffed rabbit. Logan blinked. Miss Fluffybottom. When had he dropped her? Roman’s father answered for him. “You… dropped this over there. You were fast. Scared the daylights out of me, the way you dropped everything and ran.”

Roman’s father laughed, and Logan nearly felt his knees quake. He had an enchanting laugh. This was odd. A sensation Logan had rarely felt before. Almost like… infatuation.

Logan was not a romantic… far from it. His marriage had been one of convenience. He’d divorced her when she neglected Virgil… and never thought to remarry. He hadn’t seen the need. Hadn’t had the desire.

Now, looking at Roman’s father, Logan speculated he was either smitten… or dying of yellow fever. Both had similar symptoms.

“Come here, Big Guy,” Roman’s father said as he took Roman from Logan’s arms. He coddled the boy a bit, kissing his tear streaked-face while Roman pouted and kicked his feet. Logan blinked when Roman’s father smiled at him again. “Thank you so much. I’m Patton, by the way. Patton Sanders.”

“Logan Grant,” Logan managed to say with a numb tongue. He tucked Miss Fluffybottom under his arm as he took Patton’s hand and shook it. “A pleasure.” Trying to seem levelheaded in the face of imminent affection, Logan gestured to Roman’s leg. “You should clean the scrape and put a bandage on it.”

Patton beamed and bounced Roman on his hip. “Yeah… we’ll make it all better, won’t we?”

Roman, who had been busy sucking his thumb, gave Patton a smile and a soft, mumbled, “Magic kisses?”

Logan quirked an eyebrow as Patton chuckled. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll kiss it better.”

When something rigged at Logan’s pant leg, he glanced down. Virgil was looking up at him with wide, scared eyes. Logan knelt down and tried to calmly address the look, but he on-edge. Why was Virgil upset? Was he hurt? Had someone done something to him? The possibilities spun into frantic madness as he fluttered his hands over Virgil, checking him for bumps or bruises.

“Virgil, what is it? Are you hurt?” Virgil shook his head, and Logan let out a breath of relief. “Is something wrong?” Virgil bit his lower lip, unable to voice his concerns. Logan narrowed his eyes. “Virgil, please… can you tell me? Can you try?”

“He just wants to see his daddy,” Patton said knowingly. Virgil and Logan looked up at him with matching impressed stares, and Patton merely giggled. “Am I right, kiddo?”

Virgil nodded fervently, his little five-year-old hands gripping Logan’s shirt sleeves and tugging restlessly. Logan smiled; Virgil liked Patton, too.

Passing a soft hand through Virgil’s hair, Logan stood up straight and nodded appreciatively. “Thank you. He has trouble speaking in public.”

Patton shrugged with that prize-winning smile and waved Logan and Virgil over to the benches. A few other parents leaned into each other, whispering with smug, scandalous smiles while Patton set Roman on the bench.

“A quick bandaid and a kiss, and you’ll be all better, sunshine,” he promised as he dug through a small bag he’d left on the bench. he produced a first-aid kit that was covered in superhero stickers — Roman’s doing, no doubt — and cooed to Roman, telling him he was brave and strong.

Logan felt his heart glow with warmth at the sight.

“Okay…” Patton pulled out an antiseptic wipe and started to wipe it over Roman’s knee. Roman immediately whines and kicked his feet.

“That hurts!” He screeched as he cradled his knee tenderly. Patton tried to apologize, but Roman twisted away from him. “No! Don’t touch!”

Patton looked startled and more than a little lost. His hands hung in the air, almost like he was unsure of what to do next. Stepping in, Logan sat next to Roman on the bench.

“Roman,” he said softly, gesturing for Patton to hand him the antiseptic tissue. “Do you like cartoons?”

Roman turned toward Logan and practically radiated with excitement. “I love cartoons! I wanna grow up an’… an’ be a Prince like from Little Mermaid!”

Logan cleaned Roman’s knee carefully, nodding all the while. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Roman stopped, looked at his knee, then muttered, “Owie,” before launching back into his Disney Prince aspirations.

Logan nodded and kept up the conversation, taking a bandaid and sticking it over the scrapes on Roman’s little knee. “There we are… you’re perfectly fine.”

“No!” Roman cried, reaching for Patton with little grabbing fists. “Kiss. Magic kisses make it better.”

Going a little red, Patton leaned forward, tracing a little heart around Roman’s knee with his finger, then kissed the bandaid. “There! All better.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile as Roman smiled victoriously and wiggled his little feet so hard, his pink light-up shoes blinked wildly. At the end of the bench, Virgil stood with Miss Fluffybottom held tightly in his arms, watching carefully from behind her fluffy ears as Logan stood from the bench and gave Patton one last goodbye.

“Thanks so much,” Patton said as he shook Logan’s hand. “I’m glad you came along when you did. I can trust a doctor to be calm about these things.”

Logan felt the warmth in his hand linger even when Patton let go. It was a new sensation; he wasn’t quite sure if he enjoyed it yet.

“It’s no trouble. I was happy to help,” he said calmly. Virgil came up behind him, hugging his leg as he shyly looked up at Patton. Logan smiled. “And I’m glad you could interpret for Virgil… he’s… very shy.”

Giggling a little bit, patton waved the praise away. “Naw, no problem! He looks like a sweet kid.” Without warning, Virgil jumped forward and latches himself to Patton’s leg, holding tight as Patton stumbled under his weight. “Woah! Easy, kiddo… I’m not the most coordinated person in the world.”

Logan stepped forward, keen on removing Virgil from Patton’s leg, only to have his arm seized by a distraught Roman.

“Me, too!” Roman said fervently as he tugged on Logan’s sleeve. “Me, too!”

“Roman… it’s not polite to pull on people,” Patton said as he reached down to give Virgil’s hair a tender pat.

Disregarding this, Roman pulled harder, only relenting when Logan picked him up and held Roman to his side.

“It seems we’re stuck with each other, Mr. Sanders,” Logan said with a hint of amusement. His heart melted when Patton lifted his eyes to smile at him brightly.

AN: finally posting this to tumblr two days after putting on ao3 bc tumblr mobile Sucks. 

Chapter 2/ Chapter 3

word count: 1717

summary: Virgil is blind. It’s not a big deal though, right? But he hides it, because if the other sides knew they would push him away again. And besides, he’s pretty good at faking being sighted…And the other sides are also more observant than he realizes.

Chapter 1: Roman

Virgil couldn’t sleep.

Not that that was an uncommon occurrence, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Contrary (or maybe not contrary) to popular opinion, Virgil did like to sleep. He just hated being too anxious to actually get any of it. There were times when he wasn’t even anxious over a particular thing, he just was.

And that was how it had been tonight- tossing and turning in his sheets, unable to get comfortable or come close to falling asleep no matter what Virgil did. Even though he knew, logically, that there wasn’t anything for him to be anxious about.

He sighed, then moved to get up out of bed. Maybe a snack or something would help him feel more tired. Virgil felt his watch. 3:46.

Was it really that late? Early? Maybe he’d just have coffee or something, unhealthiness be damned.

Virgil pushed himself off the bed and flawlessly navigated through the completely dark room. He had been thinking about that a lot, lately (well, worrying, for the most part because that was what he did). His blindness, that is.

He had never had any vision, or light perception, anything at all. Virgil didn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been this way. It was bothersome, at some times, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. He was used to it. Virgil honestly had no idea why he had been formed this way; he just knew that this was the way it was, and the less time he spent dwelling on it the less anxious it made him.

He was also slightly surprised he had managed to keep it from the others this long after they started spending more time with him, too; Virgil knew that he was decent at faking being sighted, but he hadn’t known he would be that good. He feared the day everything went to shit, because at this point it was only a matter of “when.”

The other sides had noticed things, sure, and had made comments in the past, but Virgil sometimes couldn’t believe his luck.

“You know, Virgil, I thought your room would have been quite a mess, but it is in fact rather tidy.”

“Keeping things organized sometimes helps me not be anxious, Logan,” Virgil said. He didn’t elaborate that it also helped him to know where everything actually was because he couldn’t see it.

“Ah. Of course.”

“Virgil, look at me. I know that you’re panicking right now, but I need you to focus on me. What are five things you can see?” Patton asked as Virgil was mid panic attack in the living room.

“Uh,” he tried to force sightlines and remember what things were where, which actually helped calm him down… “The painting. Clock. Curtains. The TV. You,” Virgil said last, finally being able to force his eyes to look directly in front of him, where Patton was sitting.

And Roman thought Virgil wasn’t a good actor. (To be fair, that was probably because being blind made him absolute shit at facial expressions, which was what sighted people looked for in acting.)

(Ha. Looked.)

Virgil hadn’t noticed, but autopilot had taken his body to the kitchen while his thoughts had been preoccupied. Not bothering with the light switch, since the other sides were likely to be asleep, Virgil decided he’d have hot chocolate and if that didn’t work to make him tired enough to sleep, he’d give up and switch to coffee. Of course, the universe never seemed to let things go his way.

After the hot chocolate didn’t help at all, Virgil got up from where he had been seated at the kitchen table and began quietly moving around the kitchen as he got things ready for making coffee. In all his bustling, he hadn’t realized someone had joined him until he heard the light switch flip and the barely audible- even to him, with his more sensitive hearing- hum of the lights themselves. “Virgil?” a voice, Roman’s, called. “You in here?”

“Yeah.”

“How…” The creative side sounded confused. “You didn’t have the lights on. How were you able to move around?”

Virgil tried to play it off without sounding too suspicious. “I can see pretty well in the dark.”

There was a pause, but eventually Roman responded doubtfully, “Okay. Sure. I guess that makes sense. Your room is fairly dark.” Virgil could practically hear the frown in Roman’s voice as he asked, “So why are you still up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. You?”

“Me?” Roman sounded affronted.

“Could ask the same of you, Princey.”

“Touché.“

Virgil only heard silence for a few beats. He pushed Roman a little further while stirring the creamer in his coffee. “So?”

“I, uh… I could not sleep either. I seem to have too many ideas running through my head.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“More than you’d think,” the creative side admitted. “What are you having? Coffee?”

Virgil gave a silent nod before taking a sip. Ah. Sweet, sweet caffeine. Roman quietly hummed in what could have been disapproval, but also simply acknowledgement.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

Virgil pursed his lips. Normally, he could get away with skipping out on movie nights, but lately the other sides had been more insistent on joining them for “bonding time,” which for Roman included Disney movies. Movies in general, of course, were problematic when he watched them with the others because he couldn’t put on the audio description (if there was any). Still, it wasn’t like there was a way Virgil could get out of it.

Roman sensed his hesitation. “We could watch Black Cauldron?” he asked tentatively. Virgil sighed.

“Fine,” he relented.  “You want tea, right? I can get it ready if you set up the movie.”

“Okay,” Roman agreed, though his voice held the slightest bit of suspicion.

“I promise I won’t tamper with it, Princey,” Virgil said, smirking, “no matter how much fun that would be.”

More like he didn’t know how to set up the DVD player and wouldn’t be able to figure it out. Not that Roman needed to know that.

Both sides took up their positions, quickly getting everything ready. In practically no time at all, he and Roman were sitting next to each other on the couch.

“Why is this movie your favorite?” Roman asked, interrupting Virgil’s thoughts.

Virgil turned his head towards the creative side, not hesitating in his answer. “The soundtrack.”

“But it doesn’t have any songs,” Roman said, confusion in his voice.

“A soundtrack doesn’t have to have songs with lyrics to be good. Listen to it,” he suggested. “You’ll see what I mean.” Virgil took the silence as Roman nodding. He turned back towards the movie, Roman probably following suit. Virgil could tell the other side was listening more intently to the music, not just the dialogue.  

At the end of the movie, Roman faced him. “As much as it pains me to admit it, you were right, Charlie and the Dark Chocolate Factory.”

“Really?” Virgil said sarcastically. “That one wasn’t your best.” He heard a sigh that was most likely accompanied by Roman rolling his eyes.

“You know what I mean, Virgil.”

Virgil smirked back at him. “And just what was I right about?” Another sigh.

“The soundtrack was indeed interesting. And pleasant to listen to.”

Virgil subtly felt his watch again. 5:32. He couldn’t let Roman know he knew what time it was, though. “What time is it?”

There was a pause- most likely the creative side searching for a clock. “5:32,” he confirmed. “Do you want to watch something else until Patton wakes up and makes us eat breakfast, or do you want to just make something ourselves?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” Roman said, “I was thinking about watching another Disney movie. Mulan, maybe?”

“Sure,” Virgil agreed. He had watched Mulan enough times to know what was happening on screen even without the audio description, though it certainly wouldn’t be as enjoyable. Oh well. “Do you want more tea, or something?”

Virgil heard a soft brush- Roman had probably shrugged. “Sure,” he agreed.

Now came the tricky part. That is, grabbing the mugs off of the table without knowing precisely where Roman’s was. However, just as he leaned forward to grab their empty drinks, Roman got up from the couch and presumably went to go change the DVD, which meant he would be facing away from Virgil. He quickly leaned all the way over the table and carefully slid his hands on it until he found both mugs, then grabbed them by the handles and walked into the kitchen.

—

Roman watched carefully as Virgil left the living room for the kitchen. The anxious side, for some reason, hadn’t commented at all on Roman looking back at him. Virgil had also not just grabbed their mugs. No, the anxious side, for some reason, had slid his hands along the coffee table until he found the mugs with his hands.

It was almost as if Virgil hadn’t seen them.

But that was impossible, right? Why wouldn’t Virgil be able to see the mugs when they were right in front of him?

The creative side thought as he set up the next movie and heard the other side moving around the kitchen. Roman was far more observant than the others gave him credit for- after all, how can you be imaginative without an attention to detail?

There were strange things that Virgil did that the others hadn’t noticed, or at least hadn’t admitted they noticed. The way he always skipped out on movie night with the others, even after they had accepted Virgil into the fold. When he obviously thought he was being subtle as he felt his wrist, and then usually asked for the time afterwards. How often he did do what he had done with the mugs while they were eating, as if he was checking the position of the cup before he lifted it.

Roman quietly gasped as a thought occurred to him. No way, that can’t be right, he thought. No freaking way. But there was a quote that Logan liked to occasionally say: "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.”