#jetwrites

I tend to sabotage myself when I have a good thing happening, and I know that's what happened here. I'd love to hear from y'all, if you still want to read it, if you've been frustrated by waiting for the next chapter, anything. It's honestly a case of if you want to read it and see where the story was going, I'll write it. Thank you for putting up with the wait! -Jet

So this is just a lil vent thing I wrote a while back when I was feeling really bad about stuff, and I wasn't going to post it but @prinxietys mentioned wanting a drabble with disassociating anx, and I figured since I had it I'd post it. It might not hit the spot, since it's based off my dissociative episodes and everyone is different, but I hope it helps. It's hurt/comfort because I don't think I have a pure angst bone in my body. Platonic moxiety. I haven't had time to edit it 100%, so sorry about that!! Warnings: disassociation, panic attack Anxiety was not asleep. He wished he was. It was past noon, he could see his alarm flashing from where it was muted on the floor. He knew he had to get up. He had to eat at some point. But he felt... heavy. Unbearably heavy. 'get up.' He thought to himself. 'Just... just move. Just get up.' He stared at his arms, willing them to push off the mattress, but they didn't budge. Every bone in his body screamed exhaustion. It wasn't as simple as getting up. It never was. It was dragging an unresponsive, half rusted machine out of a pit of mud. It was that guy pushing a boulder up a hill, it was... anxiety heard footsteps across the house, climbing the stairs to his room. 'No... don't. Please please don't.' He curled in on himself, holding his breath as they got closer, trying to hide. 'Dontdontdontdontdont-' "Anx? Buddy? You awake?" the sympathy in moralities voice made him cringe. "Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I'm up." His voice sounded strained, even to him. He was getting worse at this. "Ok kiddo, you let us know when you want-" anxiety felt his face heat up with shame, something boiling in his chest. In a split second, it began to spill. "Of course I want to get up, morality!" He snapped. "Of course I want to do what you do, be normal, but I can't, ok? I'm not like you! You don't have to point it out! I know I'm a burden, and I know I'm upsetting you right now but I can't- I can't pretend to be hopeful, ok? I can't keep pretending I'm ok to protect you!" His voice was broken, sobbing, disgusting. He couldn't look at moralities face. He couldn't. "I'm worthless. I know. Just leave me alone, ok?" He sniffed, wiping his face on his hoodie. "I don't need your pity. All I'm going to do is make you feel bad." He kept doing his best to breath through his sobs, chest fluttering in and out rapidly. After a minute, he felt the edge of the bed dip. Morality didn't try to touch him, didn't try to say anything, just placed a package of tissues in his line of sight, and stayed till anxieties breathing leveled. Despite anxiety hoping he would give up if he just didn't say anything, morality started talking. For once his voice wasn't... emotional. It was calm. "You don't need to be like us, Alex." Morality had been trying to guess his name for weeks. This one stuck around as a sort of placeholder or nickname. It felt... nice. To be Alex. "You don't have to prove anything to me. What you can do is what you can do. It's not the same as what I can do, or Logan, or Roman. You struggle with things that we think are easy. And thats worth more than you think. You- you're worth more than you think." Anxiety could hear tears building in the other sides voice as he lay down, back to back with him. "It means the world to me that you're trying." His voice was soft now. Anxiety could feel it through his back where they touched. "You go through so much everyday and still worry about protecting me. You don't need to." Anxiety started to shake again as he felt moralities arms wrap around him. "You don't need to be in control all the time. You don't need to pretend for me." Anxiety was a mess at this point, his pride giving way to loneliness. "I've got you. I've got you." Morality kept muttering soothing nonsense into his ears until he could catch his breath again. They lay there for a while, talking. Mostly about what anxiety needed from the others, but when that got overwhelming they just... talked. About space, and life on other planets, and the best ice cream topping. Eventually, anxieties stomach growled. "Have you had food yet, kid?" Anxiety flinched back into himself. "Uh. I. N-no. I- I didn't." He braced, waiting for the other sides disappointed. It never came. "Ok. Do you want cereal or waffles?" "Whatever you want to make..." he muttered. "Waffles then. C'mon!" He felt gentle hands lifting him to a sitting position. "Y'with me?" Anxiety blinked. There was no annoyance, no disappointment, no pity. Morality just looked at him, excited smile on his face. "Uh. Yeah. I am." Morality stayed with him as he got up, keeping him moving to the kitchen. Looking at him over a plate of waffles, (only slightly burnt,) Anxiety didn't feel normal. Not quite. But he felt... he felt like Alex. And that was ok.

This is for @the-sanders-sides bc they have a lovely voice and was responsible for this idea. It's not my best, (I'm kinda running on fumes atm and this was hard to write for some reason haha) but it is finished! so that's something. INCLUDES SPOILERS FOR THE LATEST VIDEO If someone asks, I can probably edit it to be spoiler free! Descrip: logxiety, background morince, they watch frozen and it's real fluffy Warnings: swears, insecurities Anxiety had made an art of avoiding Disney night, if he could help it. It started out as movie night, which quickly devolved into musical night, then Disney night. Of course, they still had regular movie night at least once a night, which was fine, since it usually didn't involve all that... singing, but disney night was hell. Not because of the movies, but because of the company. The other sides were probably the worst people you could imagine to watch a movie with. Roman, predictably, knew every second by heart, and insisted constantly that "OH! This next bit is my favorite! Anxiety, are you watching? Are you watching it? You better be watching it-" As if Anxiety didn't know the movies twice as well as he did, anyways. But even worse was the singing. Constant. Singing. He was nearly convinced that Roman had choreography for every single number from the golden age to now. Roman was the worst, but Patton was a close second. Patton... was a crier. He was also completely complicit in Romans choreography plot. Anxiety pulled his legs up onto the couch to avoid getting twirled into by both of them. It was frozen night. It was definitely Anxieties guilty pleasure musical, one of the ones that he sang to himself when he couldn't sleep. Unfortunately, Patton caught him watching it. Now they HAD to have a 'bonding experience', apparently. They had actually made it all the way to 'Love is an open door' before Roman actually started dancing. (He took hans's part, while Patton took anna's. Anxiety would never let him live this down.) Now he was huddled in a corner, hiding in a cave of blankets, trying to see the screen around Roman swinging Patton around the coffee table. Thank god for Logan, the only not-dancing-idiot in the room. Logan didn't usually come to these either, or at least he multitasked. (Annoying in its own way, but less so.) Anxiety got the feeling that Patton had given everyone the 'now, we've got to try to include him' talk, which made him a little sick to his stomach. Trying to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth, he turned to Logan. He was watching the other two dance around the room, a small smile on his face. Anxiety knew from the way he sat up a little every time Roman almost flung Patton across the room, or Patton tripped a little on the carpet, that he was trying to keep them safe, without ruining their fun. His tie was loose, his eyelids drooping. Anxiety pulled the blanket closer around him like a fuzzy fortress. /conceal don't feel- holy shit that's cliche I need to stop./ His could feel his face heating up, and tried to focus back on the movie. It was almost time for the big number. He expected Roman to stay standing, but he flopped down on the other sofa, pulling a giggling Patton down with him. Watching the other two sides curl up next to each other made something deep in his chest start hurting. He ignored it, focusing on the song. /The snow glows white on the mountain tonight, not a foot print to be seen. A kingdom of isolation, and it looks like I'm the queen/ He knew it was cliche. He knew it. But something in him really loved the song. It was... lonely. He could understand that. /The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside. Couldn't keep it in, heaven knows I tried./ He saw Logan turn to him out of the corner of his eye. By the time he realized he was singing, it was too late. Everyone was looking now. The song went on with out him. He sat petrified on the couch, face turning red. /conceal, don't feel, don't let them know./ He really hated dramatic irony. Logan was the first to speak. "Anxiety-" Every atom in his body was filled with nope. He was 100% nope. He shot out of the room like a rocket, nearly tripping on his blanket. He didn't want to stick around to hear them laughing at him. He locked the door to his room as fast as he could, and collapsed against it. Anxiety did not sing. It wasn't his job. If he did sing, it definitely wasn't disney. It was like, evanescence or something. Not frozen, of all things. He burrowed further into the blanket. Someone knocked on the door. "...Anxiety?" Logan. Great. They had just started getting along. Now Logan hated him as much as he hated Princey. Probably more. Anxiety wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Did I... did we do something wrong?" Great. Now they thought it was their fault. "No. Go away." He sounded like a child. He heard something move just outside the door, and something put a gentle weight on it, like Logan was sitting on the other side. But sitting on floors was not a thing Logan did. Right? "Look, I embarrassed myself, ok? You can all make fun of my later, for now just... leave me alone." He swallowed as many sobs as he could, waiting for the other side to go away. Just when he thought Logan might be asleep or something, he heard a quiet voice. "do you want to build a snowman?" Logan was... singing? His voice was rough, and a little off key, the words too formal for the character. "Or. Uh, something something... halls..." Logan cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'll- I'll just go-" Anxiety whipped the door open, causing Logan to fall flat on his back into the room. "Are you making fun of me because I will not hesitate to crush your skull like a watermelon." Logan looked up at him, blinking. "I am not." He said firmly, readjusting his glasses. Anxiety narrowed his eyes. "Then why'd you do it?" Logan looked... pinker than before, but it may have just been the light. "I... came to the consensus that you may have been... vulnerable when you sang. The best way to lessen vulnerability in others is to open up yourself... Was I... was I correct?" Anxiety rubbed the last of his tears off his face with his sleeve, extending the other hand out to help Logan up. ".....Yeah. Got it in one." "I still don't understand that saying-" "Shut up and watch the rest of the movie with me." "...Ten-four." "Vocab word?" "Vocab word."

The man turned to hand something to Alex, and the collar of his shirt slipped, revealing a dark bruise. A very familiar dark bruise. With teeth marks. Logan stood up very suddenly, a storm crossing his face. Patton broke off mid sentence as Logan strode across Pattons plants and swung open the door. Roman had spotted him and, seeing the now pretty obvious rage, elected to make a run for it. “I- think about my offer, I should really go-” “ROMAN?” Logan hated it when his voice broke, but it had the desired effect. Roman flinched back, pushing sunglasses back up his nose instinctively. “Yup. Time to go.” He made a swift retreat to a black car waiting on the corner, followed by Logans glare the whole way. The car sped off, leaving Logan to run a hand through his hair aggressively on the curb. Alex looked from the card in his hand, to Logan, to the car retreating down the street, and back to the card. “I have so many questions.”

This chapter is pretty much just anxieties pov of the last chapter, and it's pretty short, but the next chapter should be up really soon so you won't be waiting too long this time! The next few chapters are probably going to be pretty anx focused, so I hope you like sarcasm. I'm honestly having a lot of fun writing this, and I've finally got a bit of a plan for the plot, so expect this to be a... r e a l l y long series. All the positivity you guys have sent me is super encouraging and I can't thank you enough. I'm actually considering getting my ao3 account working again, because I know Tumblr isn't great for finding and reading fics :/ let me know if you think that'd be a good idea!! Warnings: none for this chapter, but let me know if you think I should add something. Chapter 6: For the second time that day, Alex found himself sitting at a table in Pattons Plants, not working. He knew he should go back, but this was too weird to just go about his day. He stared down at the gold embossed card in his hands, already a little dog eared, thinking about how he got it. He had just set up again, rare smile on his face. He hung on to his good mood like a cliff edge, refusing to let it slip away. Logan and Patton were certainly... characters. He tried not to think about the fact that he couldn't get close to them, that he probably wouldn't ask about that job, no matter how promising. Instead he picked one of the more upbeat songs in his roster, and started playing. Over done, maybe, but over done pays. And he liked the song. /Don't take this the wrong way You knew who I was Every step that I ran to you. Only blue or black days Electing strange perfections In any stranger I choose./ He let himself think, mind wandering, what would it be like to play there. Maybe a night set, with the lights dimmed. Dinner crowd scattered around tables, drinks in hand. He wouldn't have to see their faces if he used the right lighting, making them faceless figures. Except... in his mind, he could clearly see Logan and Patton in the front row, just like they were inside. Comfortable. Welcoming. He shook his head, focusing on the song. /Would things be easier If there was a right way? Honey there is no right way. And so I fall in love Just a little oh a little bit Every day with someone new/ He sang every bit of what he wanted. He sang how much of him wanted to go back inside and talk again. He sang how much he wanted an easy friendship like that, how he wanted someone who could read him like a book, how he wanted someone who knew his coffee order like it was tattooed on the tip of their tongue. /There's an art to life's distractions Some how escape the burning weight The art of scraping through Some like to imagine The dark caress of someone else Oh I guess any thrill will do/ He loved being alone, but loneliness point blank sucked. It always felt so needy. There was no way to be causal about it, you wanted someone who knew you like you'd been friends for years, but you had to start on the ground level and build your way up. He tried the same carefree tone that the singer used, but it only made him sound more desperate. He threw himself into the song again, ignoring the hole in his chest. /Would things be easier If there was no right way? Honey, there is no right way/ He continued the chorus, watching people pass by. There was a man in crisp white slacks who kept glancing at him from where he was talking to someone holding a stack of paperwork. He must have come out of a nearby building a good five minutes ago. Something about the way he held himself, or maybe it was how expensive everything about him looked set off Alex's 'the man' reflex. He held eye contact with the sunglasses for the next few lines as his voice lowered, trying not to smirk as the guys face got red as his shirt and he nearly dropped his papers. /I wake at the first cringe of morning And my hearts already sinned How pure how sweet the love beneath Yeah you would pray for him/ Alex didn't see himself as having many talents, but one that he treasured, and exploited whenever possible, was making authority figures really, really nervous. This might have been more flirty than terrifying, but the reaction was still pretty funny. Not like anything would come of it. No harm done. He continued with the song, voice lightening, letting his head lean back against the building, eyes closed. It was pretty much just chorus from then on, so he cut it a little shorter than the original so his throat didn't give out before the song ended and he could get some water. He didn't do loud, belting songs for that exact reason, and this one was already lower than he usually sang. When he opened his eyes for the last few lines, the guy had moved to lean against a tree, watching him. Clearly someone used to getting what he wanted, but Alex would admit. The guy was hot. Preppy, which was not usually his type, but in a kind of slightly disheveled I-care-but-I-don't-want-you-to-think-I-do way. He looked like a singer Alex saw on billboards sometimes. It was almost uncanny. As he finished the song, the guy started clapping. /wow. Yup. He's a douche. An attractive douche, but still a douche./ A few passers by clapped along halfheartedly, like they didn't really know what they where clapping for. To be fair, they probably didn't. The song usually faded to background noise for most people. They probably forgot he was even there. The fancy guy walked over to him, hips swaying. /oh you think you're great, don't you. Cute./ Alex pretended he didn't notice, counting the cash he had in the case. "Anyone told you you've got a fantastic voice?" Alex snorted. "Only when they want something." He took a slug of water from a crumpled bottle next to his case. "What if I wanted to work with you?" He saw a card out of the corner of his eye, and turned to read it. He had to fight not to spit his water all over the guys shoes. (They looked like they cost more than Alexs apartment.) /Kingdom Records Princey Singer, Artist [email protected]/ He looked up at the guy, thinking back to the billboards. /oooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh no./ Attractive douche was a 100% certified pop star, with an insane fan base and more money than Alex would know what to do with. And he was standing there, with his sunglasses pushed up onto his head, having the gall to look nervous. Alex had to remind himself to close his jaw. "You... wanna work with me?" He sounded a little too incredulous, but thank god he didn't sound like a star struck idiot. Princey looked more sure of himself, nodding. "Yes. I'd love to." Alex had to recalibrate his entire view on reality again. He squinted at the guy. "... ok. Why?" Princey looked taken aback. "...Why?" "Uh, yea? You want an extra hand to get you some insane coffee order or-" "what? No! I- I want to sing with you-" The door banged open in the middle of Princeys sentence, revealing Logan. From what Alex had gathered, Logan was a very put together guy. Like, 'you'd want him on your apocalypse team because he didn't seem to crack under any kind of pressure' kinda put together. Logan did not look put together now, though. Princeys eyes widened noticeably, flicking from Logan to Alex. "I-think about my offer- I should really go-" "ROMAN?" Alex would not have guessed that Logan was a drill sergeant in a past life, but apparently Alex was wrong about a lot of things today. "Yup, time to go" Princey flinched again, starting a tactical retreat (running the hell away,) still clutching his papers. Alex watched in amazement as Logan practically chased one of the most famous men in the city back to his car. Oh god. He had. So many questions.

Hey folks! I'm posting this a lil later than I thought I would, but I figure I'd post this to get me motivated to write the next chapter. I'm gonna have a lot of fun writing from mostly anxs perspective for the next few. It's not hurt-comfort without hurt, so I'm using this chapter to set up some tasty drama for y'all. It's a lil short, but I hope you like it!! Let me know if you find anything I should put under warnings! Chapter 7: Princey. Roman. Princey. Roman. Logan flipped the names back and forth in his head. Princey was a voice on the radio. A name on a billboard. A suit on the red carpet. Roman was a tired, bedraggled, heartbroken man who got dumped last night. Princey wore sunglasses. Roman wore his old pajamas. He found it nearly impossible to reconcile the two. Alex had explained who Roman- *Princey* - was with an almost shellshocked expression. Apparently whatever happened before Logan got there was enough to pull him away from his work and leave him looking like he'd seen a ghost. The three sat at the same table as before, Alex and Logan both stewing in the new information. Patton kept looking back and forth between them, jiggling his leg underneath the table. He had never been good with long silences. Finally, he broke. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" They both looked at him blankly. Alex turned back to Logan when he realized the question wasn't addressed at him, and raised an eyebrow. Logan hid his face in his coffee, an old habit that Patton tutted at him for. "I know you too well to let you get away with overthinking this for the next century." He shook his head, talking to Alex in an exaggerated stage whisper. "He's an absolute genius, but when it comes to emotions, it's like he'd struggle to pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel." Alex snorted at the image as Logan felt his face heating up. He slammed his coffee on the table. "Ok! Fine. You're right, as usual. I don't have a plan." He leaned back in his chair, glad his voice had only broken a little. "Alright, where do you think we should start? Call him? Get him to apologize?" "Burn his house down?" Alex deadpaned. Logan sighed. "I'm not sure I should do either. I don't have any way to contact him, and even if I did..." he drummed his fingers on the table, pursing his lips. "Is it really his fault?" Alex did a double take. "Uh, how is it not his fault? He acted like he was paying for sex." Logan coughed at the blunt explanation, but Patton just shook his head. "For once, Logan seems to get it. Princey is a famous fellow here. He can't exactly trust a night like that to not be used against him." Alex nodded slowly. "So it's hush money?" Patton shrugged. "Maybe. The only real way to know would be to ask!" Logan sighed again, staring out the window in the direction the car had driven. ---- Alex bit his lip, turning the card over and over in his pocket. Stay safe? Take the leap? ...He pulled it out and slapped it on the table. "I could ask him for you." Logan and Patton both stared at the card in awe, then at each other, then up at Alex. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding both of their eyes. "He... kinda offered me a job? I think. It might not be much but I-" Pattons eyes grew wide. "Alex! That's amazing! We'll get to hear you on the radio and everything!" Alex couldn't manage higher brain function over Pattons excited squealing. "He probably just wants me to play guitar in the background or something I wouldn't count on it getting that big..." he mumbled, when his lips worked again. Patton pouted, and Logan pushed his glasses up his nose. "Now, I'm all for being realistic, but you are a good musician, Alex." Alex ignored how warm his insides felt about that. "You should certainly take this opportunity to advance your career. But-" Logans voice gained a steely note as he leaned across the table, looking at Alex over his glasses. /drill sergeants is right.../ "You will not risk asking him for something on my behalf." Both Patton and Alex started to speak, but Logan held up his hand. "I've already nearly cost you this job by running him off in the middle of offering it to you. I'm not going to let you sabotage yourself with something so inconsequential." Patton gasped. "Inconsequential? Logan, you were practically in tears about this when you came in!" Alex felt like he was watching a soap opera in a foreign language. "He was?" Logan nodded solemnly. "I was. But I'm an adult. I can take care of myself. I don't like wasting time being upset over things I can't change, and Ro- er, Princey is one of them." He picked up the empty plates on the table with an air of finality, and stood up. "It's your choice what to do with the card. And I still think you should play here sometime, even if you do get the job with him." Logans eyes softened very slightly. "I'd like to see it." Then he turned briskly on his heel and marched to the kitchen like he owned it. "Play here? Oh, Logan, that's a great idea! Alex, dear, don't worry about the dishes, we've got them, and feel free to come around any time! We'd be delighted to have you." Pattons bright sunshiny smile vanished the second he turned around to storm into the kitchen. "LOGAN! You get back here this instant, young man! Guests don't do dishes and friends don't refuse help! Do you hear me?" Over the ruckus in the kitchen, Alex could hear soft music from a stereo somewhere. Would it be his voice, like Patton said? He flipped the card around in his hands again. Logan and Patton acted like they'd known him for years. Roman acted like the only thing he needed to get what he wanted was his name and daddy's credit card. His new friend, if he could call him that yet, deserved the truth. With shaking hands, Alex dialed the number on the card. It had been a long time since he took a leap like this, but he supposed, it had been a long time since there was someone worth falling for.

A girl came up to the register from the kitchen. Alex was about to order when she turned to the guy, confusion on her face. “…Boss?” If he was pink before, umbrella guy was well into red now. “I told you to call me Moe, Julie…” he mumbled. Alex wanted to scream at something. “You… work here?” The girl he called Julie snorted. “Work here? He’s the owner. What’d he do this time?” Alex ignored her in favor of her boss, who was at this point clearly past embarrassed. “You own a lunch place and forgot to eat?” He knew his voice was getting high pitched, but his dismay over took any instinct to lower it. Julie tutted. “Boss, again? I keep telling you, set a reminder on your phone.” The guy (Moe?) threw his hands up in defeat, chuckling. “Alright, alright, I’ll have an iced tea and a house special.” He shot Alex a look out the corner of his eye that made his skin feel warmer. “Make that two.”

Fortunately, it wasn’t tomorrow morning yet. Logan coughed politely, bringing him out of his thoughts. “As nice as this is,” ('he thinks it’s nice!’ Part of him said. 'Shut. up.’ said a larger part) “my shift is about to end.” Romans heart sank. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” Logans voice was soft, almost… nervous. Romans heart was on a danm rollercoaster. “I… technically, yes.” There was the eyebrow again. “Technically?” Bile rose in Romans throat. “I would… rather not go back in this state, but I do have somewhere to go. If you lend me your phone I could call a cab-” “No! -I mean.” Logan cleared his throat, less gracefully this time. “That’s not necessary. You can stay here. If you want, that is.” This was familiar ground. Roman could feel his feet under him as Logan got more and more flustered. “And who’s bed would I be sleeping in, exactly?” Roman knew he was grinning at this point. “Uh- t-there’s a spare couch upstairs, I suppose you could have my bed if you-” “Not quite what I meant, gorgeous.” Roman pulled himself up off the couch, and stalked over to the armchair Logan was sitting in. He was close enough to see the other man swallow nervously. Getting no signal to back off, he planted both hands on the arms of the chair, caging Logan in, and waited for him to make a move. Throw him out, or… One of Logans hands grabbed the back of his neck. “I suppose” he muttered, pulling Roman towards him “I wouldn’t mind sharing.”