#whoops I’m a fander now
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This was literally every single one of us before we became fanders lolol
#like it’s Thomas but also not Thomas? but also it is him? and all the sides are him too but not because they’re all different parts of him?#oookay then lol#ok but this shit is funny imma keep watching anyway#I watched it too many times I guess I’ll talk about it on tumblr#whoops I’m a fander now#and that’s exactly how it goes#roman sanders#thomas sanders#logan sanders#sanders sides#Quil darling#only sanders sides kids will remember this#sanders sides youtooz#youtooz#fanders#wow I’m confused
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Warnings: None
Pairings: None
The little one line paragraph interludes have a secret. Can you find it?
Ao3
Previous ♡ First ♡ Next
Last Night
If not for what followed the next day, Janus wpuld way the night before Virgil left was nice. That it was fun. Quite enjoyable in fact.
~•~
"But it's my turn to pick the movie!"
"I know I know alright?" The emo let out an irritated sigh. "Remus, I love Rick & Morty, but if I have to sit through all four seasons of it for the eighth time this month, I will lose my god damn mind."
"Okay." The Duke shrugged, sending a teasing smile his way. "How abput Captain Tsubasa then?"
"No. No no no absolute not. It barely makes any sense half the time and takes an hour to score on goal, it's not even funny."
"Excuse me! I'll have you know Captain Tsubasa is a phenomenon and I don't care what you say about it!"
"Like how did he even survive the truck that doesn't--"
"It's great and I'll stand by what I say, every bit of it--"
"--all the characters look so similar I can barely tell--"
"--you are a heathen for not liking this masterpiece and--"
They were both cut off by a a cushion being thrown at them. "Girls, girls, you're both pretty. Can we get back on track now?" Looking over at the television, Megamind was now playing instead of whatever Remus was going to make them watch, not that the chaotic Side was complaining.
"A movie with a reformed villain? That's the third one this week." Virgil scoffed.
Janus looked at Anxiety, staring at him dead in the eye. "It's a supervillain."
"What's the difference?"
"PRESENTATION!"
~•~
Maybe it wasn't the best night they'd had, but it was certainly one of them. Janus was smiling, Virgil was laughing and Remus was genuinely happy.
~•~
"You shalleth not pass, you foul beast, for thy will slayeth you."
"Thou will never catcheth me alive! For I shalleth burn you before you layeth a hand on thy." Janus growled, standing in front of the Duke, but on a table. "Now be prepared for the agonising tra--"
"Whoops." Virgil shrugged with a chuckle as he poked the scaled Side with a wooden sword. "Guess your dead now."
"You could at least wait for the monologue to end!"
~•~
It was a fun night. They laughed. They had fun. They were happy. There was no reason for him to leave. But he did, and neither of them could do anything about it.
~•~
Janus swished his black skirt, setting the tray of tea on the table and sitting. "Now now, ladies. Don't you think we should do something about Karen? She's been awfully loud lately. I'm thinking, maybe the stairs aren't enough for her."
"Yes darling." Remus agreed, almost ripping his dress' lace. "I'm thinking, maybe two hatchets, a bunch of gasoline and and a lighter, then again I'm not sure of that's enough."
Virgil sipped on his tea with a smile. "Can we keep her daughter?"
"That all depends on little Caren."
~•~
Sure, sometimes things weren't all that great. Sometimes they fought, sometimes they hurt each other or threw around insults. But they were close. They were still hopeful.
~•~
"Why is the kitchen on fire?" The deceitful Sides asked. Calmly.
"Me and Remus were arguing whether cereal was a soup or not." Virgil answered with a shrug.
"That totally explains why the kitchen is on fire."
Remus gave him a teasing smile as the duo exited the kitchen. "Dramatic effects."
~•~
Selfishly, Janus wished there had been some sort of problem that night. That they'd have a bad fight and cause Virgil to leave. Then there would be a reason for him to go. But there wasn't. The night was perfect. There wasn't a reason. And that was the bitter truth.
~•~
Janus watched as the two other Dark Sides danced around the living room, the sound of the MCR album that was playing drowned out by his headphones.
Remus accidentally elbowed a, thankfully plastic, teacup, causing it to fall to the ground and Virgil to jump back, before they both laughed and carried on with their little party.
He smiled as the sound of his own soft music playing through the headphones lulled him to sleep.
~•~
Very slowly, he built up the courage to face his old friend. To go up to the Light Sides and ask him why he left. Why he chose the opposite Sides to call his family.
~•~
"Virgil? It's me! Aren't we friends?"
"I'm not so sure we are."
~•~
A/N: All kinds of comments are appreciated. Short comments, Long comments, Very short comments, extra gigantic comments, Extra hearts, unreadable comments, EVERYTHING!
Taglist: @random-fander
#virgil and remus#sympathetic remus#remus sanders#sympathetic dark sides#dark sides#dark sides family#virgil sanders#janus sanders#deceit sanders#sympathetic deceit#night before virgil left#angst#bittersweet
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Keep him safe - Chapter 25
You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Previous Chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, Fantasy AU You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you
Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil
Words: 8.095
Warnings: violence marked with ///////////////////////, sexual abuse marked with +++++++, blood, insults, self-hate, bad expectations of relationships, mentioned unhealthy weight loss, body insecurity
Summary: Detective Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however feels a lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he cannot possibly have him. Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly have received from his costumary clumsiness.
Meanwhile his partner Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!
Notes: I have nothing to say for myself. My betas @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 and @hanramz-the-fander are the best, I love all of you, please take care of yourself! And check out the art at the end of the chapter!
Chapter 25
A thunderous crash following a whoop of joy penetrated the peacefulness of the isolated office. Both Logan and Captain Holt ignored the sound with the stoic determination of men used to the shenanigans of Jake Peralta and Roman Prince respectively.
The aforementioned detective had survived a near encounter with a stray bullet that had (barely) grazed his ‘beautiful face’ and had therefore immediately enlisted both Roman and Gina to throw him a party fit for the miracle of his survival and his general good looks and heroism. Roman had instantly thrown himself into organizing a play fit for the epic tale and had begun roping in officers too slow to escape his enthusiasm. The young man who had been swooning over him the last few days had been delegated to raiding the lost-and-found box for costumes. Logan estimated that their Captain would permit them another 48 minutes of frivolous displays before returning the precinct to its proper state of professionalism, barring a certain margin of error in case the fire extinguisher should make an appearance once again of course. Roman had been drawing up rather disturbing images of fog and explosions. Understandably, both men had therefore chosen to hide from the undignified behavior behind the safety of the closed office door.
“Would you care for an unsalted, assorted mixture of nuts, Nicodemus?” The Captain’s pleasantly monotonous voice inquired politely. The lack of emotion displayed by the other man was just to Logan’s liking today. A song being pitched and a shirt hitting the glass door with a ‘thud’ behind him were stoically ignored.
The therapy rat in question squeaked in affirmation, curiously standing on its hind-legs to pay attention to their conversation. The choice of respectively one almond, peanut, walnut, hazelnut and pistachio kernel were laid out before it in an orderly row. Nicodemus grabbed the hazelnut with his little paws, before giving a polite squeak.
“A very sensible choice.” Holt commended. “In my opinion, the pistachio kernel is such a purposelessly showy nut. It is certainly nut the most nutritious nut, despite its… gaudy coloring.”
Trying and failing not to show a small smile at the bad pun and the following association, Logan responded, “Indeed.” Nicodemus hopped around the laid out object of their observations and gave the Captain an unobtrusive tap on the hand like Roman had taught him before selecting a walnut.
“Your therapy rat displays quite pleasing manners.”
“He certainly does. I would expect nothing less from a distinguished pet such as him.” Another crash rattled the office, followed by a wailing complaint. “Unlike other… pets I have been told I have apparently acquired.” Logan grumbled, thinking back of Remy calling Roman his pet. Preposterous.
Meanwhile, Roman had scaled the makeshift stage and was narrating ‘The Incredible Story of the Heroic Survival of the Amazing Jake Peralta’, starring Jake Peralta as Detective Peralta, among other ‘volunteers’.
“Just as our dramatic hero believed the day to be saved, evil rose from the shadows beyond!” Roman cried, narrating the event that had caused his colleague to tragically wear a colorful band aid over his brow from his perch on four pushed together desks. He was a grand storyteller, lovely and captivating, making his audience wait with baited breath for the next part of his masterfully orchestrated play as he held his pose. And held his pose.
Annoyed, he cleared his throat, his voice becoming slightly high pitched. “Evil rose from the shadows beyond!”
A bag of chips rustled among the waiting detectives. Roman keened in annoyance, feeling his theatrical genius slighted. This would not do, he was aiming for a tale worthy of Broadway producers here! Renewing his pose with passion, he screeched, “EVIL ROSE!”
With a sigh, Logan rose from his chair in the safety of adult company. “Would you please excuse me, I believe I am missing my cue.” Putting on a preposterous bowler hat stolen from evidence with very little enthusiasm, he slunk into the bullpen.
“Prepare to die, fiend!” He growled while stiffly waving around a spotted umbrella for ‘dramaturgical reasons’, incredulously wondering why on earth he was doing this. Roman’s face lit up with happiness.
***
‘My evil plans, foiled again!’ - Tesla, who wrote lines like those?! Logan’s face still burned at the memory of the acting he’d allowed his partner to talk him into, and in front of his colleagues no less. The things he’d uttered, just to make the childish detective happy. He had clearly softened and he blamed his partner. There would be no dessert tonight! As he’d escaped the precinct, Roman had just prepared to orchestrate a grand sequel. Clearly, the time for a strategic retreat had come. Patton’s company ought to be the safer one.
Yet, despite having come to a mutual agreement to accept the young man’s situation and remain friends, Logan felt ill prepared to enter the Pat-isserie. They might have spoken and hugged at the hospital, however he still feared the influence of the baker’s relationship on their daily interactions. Would he even be able to ignore what he knew was going on in his private life, pretend everything was alright and engage in shallow conversation like he had before? His emotions felt too powerful to treat the situation casually. Despite his cool exterior, Logan was an intense man. He did not know how to love someone halfway. He liked to pretend Roman was the one who followed him around, the one who depended on him, but had his partner not resisted his demanding attempts at taking him in, he would have had Roman under his wing in his flat within the first few months of their tentative friendship. He still only grudgingly accepted the fact that the other returned to his own apartment occasionally. Additionally, the fact that he had - there was no other way to describe it – adopted the little troublemaker Virgil the moment the younger man had shown weakness and caved to his aggressive attempts at caring for him made the truth Logan had tried hard to hide painfully apparent. He needed people to care for. By some stroke of luck Roman and Virgil, even Patton, still believed he was the composed one looking after all of them, the one in control they needed to rely on, but in reality he needed them so badly he felt lost and empty without them. Not being allowed to channel all of that protective anger and loving feelings left Logan a precariously balanced mess, threatening to tip and spill all of those unused, unwanted feelings all over their fragile relationship, suffocating it. Patton didn’t want the things he had to give. If he couldn’t manage to hold himself together, keep his intense longing and protective feelings as well as his anger and helplessness at bay, he’d be turned away. He’d understand it, too. His nerves in his throat, the tall detective evaded a swarm of laughing children holding sticky cupcakes in both hands and stepped into the cafe.
Warmth seeped into Patton so suddenly, it left him feeling lightheaded. Or perhaps it was the fact that he hadn’t eaten all day. He really wanted to look his best from now on, Trevor was not fond of the weight he tended to gain around his hips, and had also been too nervous to get much past the dizzying mix of hope and insecurity in his stomach. So much had happened. Despite the changes he and Trevor had agreed upon following the shocking conclusions he’d come to, seeing Logan was as pleasant as it usually was. He’d slipped through the door and had held it open for a bunch of escaping little ones, allowing them to pass by under his arm, drawing attention to how tall he was. He looked as handsome as ever in his tailored, dark blue suit and silken tie, pale skin contrasting attractively with his raven hair. He’d even brought Nicodemus, which Patton always loved. There was a sort of pride and confidence about the detective whenever he was accompanied by his littlest friend, which Patton found too adorable. The realization of how much he wanted their friendship to work hit him hard. Logan had never been supposed to know. He hadn’t wanted him to be a threat, or for him to see Patton this way. He hadn’t wanted to seem weak.
With both men held back by their own insecurities, finding common ground was hard. Upon facing each other, neither appeared to know how to begin their conversation. Noticing the dark shadows under the detective’s eyes, Patton found he knew what he wanted, though. He and Trevor finally had a real chance at a happy ending after all those years of making each other miserable, why shouldn’t it be possible for him and Logan to find a way to make things work? He’d just need a place to start, and he knew exactly the right one. Feeling a keen sense of Déjà-vu, he silently stepped up to the taller man, being squeaked at by a cheerful, gray rat. Like the first time they’d met, Logan was hard to read at first, closed off and a little intimidating. Yet, like all those months ago, Patton could see beyond the facade. Offering a soft smile, he allowed the other a moment to prepare before raising on his tiptoes and carefully wrapping his arms around his friend. Their embrace was less sure than it had become in the course of their relationship, influenced by the insecurity of their opposing interests as a cop opposed to a victim unwilling to let him protect him. As a result, the detective’s body felt stiff under his hands at first, his jaw tense, his gaze closed off. Patton was patient though. He knew for once there was nothing to say. He curled close, bringing their bodies into close contact, leaning his cheek against his shoulder and letting his affection speak for itself. Wanting to help the other relax, he made himself soft and warm, melting against the long lines of his body like a cat. Like a strange reversal of their first proper hug, finally, Logan softened under him, his breath leaving him with his fear, his arms finally coming up to embrace him properly instead of awkwardly resting on his sides. He needed to be held more than he’d known. Patton’s own nerves quieted, leaving a soothing calmness behind. The rise and fall of the other man’s chest against his gave him something to focus on that made everything else cease existing. As always, the patissier and detective found common ground in each others arms.
Having greeted Virgil and left his beloved Nicodemus with a purring and rolling kitten upstairs to nap, the detective got comfortable on his usual spot, reviewing case notes in his notebook and surreptitiously watching his friends for any signs of distress. Considering the things he now knew, a lump up bitter fear rose in his throat whenever he had the chance to think about the things Patton had to face alone. He worried, all day, every day. Try as he might, the spiraling thoughts stuck with him from the moment he woke with a nauseous feeling in his stomach to the moment he fell asleep. It haunted his dreams and made him wake up in a pool of sweat. He could not help remembering the things he’d seen in his line of work, the reports and statements of women and men abused by their partners, scarred physically and emotionally. They overlapped with reality whenever he looked up to see Patton twirl around, smile at a child or coo at Virgil. He was so soft, so tender and beautiful and easy to hurt. He swallowed and returned his gaze to the paper, trying and always failing to forget.
A weight settled next to him, clad in lavender wool and trailing wisps of flour.
“Logan?” Patton asked softly, pulling at the sleeve of his soft sweater.
“Yes, Patton?”
“I can hear you thinking all the way over there, would you like...”
Flushing hotly, the detective cast his gaze down, mortified at being so obvious. “I apologize.” He hastily cut in, making the other fall silent. “And also for interrupting you. I did not mean to be disrespectful.”
The smaller man smiled, the expression once again softening his face, making him very pretty indeed. “Oh, it’s okay. I just don’t want you to worry! I know your smart head is coming up with so many ideas, so it’s best we just talk about it, don’t you think?” He asked reasonably, settling down comfortably next to his fretting friend. The way he curled up made him small enough to easily fit against the other man’s side, had he wanted to.
“I just want you to know that I had a really great chat with Emile, he is such a delight and so clever and helpful! And I realized how much had been going wrong with the two of us – I guess you knew a lot about that, being a detective and really smart and all – so we talked, Trevor and I, and he agreed to go to couple’s therapy with me, anything I wanted, really, he is truly trying, Logan. It’s wonderful how far he’s come and how much better we understand our mutual fears and problems now. I feel like I know him so much better than I did before, we are much closer now. He wants this to work as much as I do and I really believe it will, so – please don’t look so concerned, I don’t want you to be afraid for me. It’ll be okay, I promise! This time, all will be well.” He implored, his hazel eyes wide and trustful, filled with hope. It made something sharp twist in Logan’s chest, deep down were he harbored so much warmth. He attempted a smile, wanting to preserve Patton’s hope. He couldn’t bear to see him hurt.
“I’m pleasantly surprised by your partner’s willingness to accommodate your wishes.” He uttered diplomatically. Patton, perceptive as he was, was onto him though.
“Then… why do you look so tense? Is everything okay?” He asked anxiously, fear making his stomach feel queasy. Swallowing down all the things he wished to say but had no right to felt like making a rock settle in his stomach.
“Yes, certainly.”
A moment ticked by where the baker observed his friend, his brow furrowed. He seemed to come to a decision. Taking Logan’s calloused hand in his and making the poor man blush dreadfully with nerves and longing, he took his time to find the right words. Knowing the shyness of the detective, he kept his eyes cast down so not to make him feel exposed.
“I know I had to push you away a few times to, um, to get to the point where I wouldn’t have to be afraid for… you respect my wishes, though. I believe that, and I need that from you, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be honest with each other. There has to be something good about everything being in the light now. I think we need to talk openly, so no fear and resentment is between us, and I trust you, Logan.” Finally looking up, he added quietly. “I want to hear what you think.”
The older man took a deep, fortifying breath, disarmed by the honest wish. Still, fear of overstepping and of hurting those hopeful feelings made him hesitant. He felt like a villain, uselessly destroying this belief that things could be better.
“I… don’t think it will work as you expect it to.”
Patton’s eyes widened, growing hurt and wet. As he almost unconsciously pulled his hand back into his lap, his posture changed immediately, making him seem smaller. Feeling his breath catch in his throat, Logan attempted to explain his position, to make it better somehow.
“Patton, I apologize for causing you distress. Since I am hardly an expert on relationships, you have no need to heed my authority. You must consider the things I have been confronted with in the course of my work. I may have grown cynical. I may be wrong.” It cut him to say those words he could not believe, but pushing his opinion on the other would only push him away. Steeling himself, he added his most vulnerable thought despite his fear of how much it might reveal about his feelings.
“And although I deeply admire your ability to trust in the best in any individual, I also do not believe somebody who hurt you deserves the privilege to be with you. You should be with someone who cherishes the right to be by your side. Someone who sees you as worthy of love and protection.”
Breathing out a sad sigh, Patton softened. “It’s hardly a privilege!” He chirped, trying hard to make light of the situation with humor. Logan didn’t take the bait though. His face remained serious and earnest.
“I believe it is.”
His seriousness made the patissier pause. He had no idea how to respond to the depth of emotion he felt behind the words. A twisting, aching sensation of longing came over him unbidden. This was not fair! They were doing better than they had in years, he could not ruin their chance with his stupid heart! He loved Trevor, he had no right to yearn to know what it might be like to be taken home and belong to a man who believed having him was a privilege. Why did it feel so possible right now when the chance was farther away than ever? For a wild moment, he imagined just reaching out and touching Logan’s face, touching him, and just giving himself over to what felt so real all of a sudden.
He was being ridiculous.
Logan was – he was unreachable, and not only because Patton had nothing to offer to him and was probably stupidly imagining impossible things. He’d made his choice long ago and had even recently renewed his promise. He’d be Trevor’s anchor, his protector and caregiver – his everything. The weigh was heavy, but he’d bear it.
Trying to take away his caring friend’s suffering, and to convey some of the hope he’d found, he promised, “This time it will work. Trust me.”
If only Logan could know how much progress he’d made in understanding their dynamic. How hard Trevor tried. So much had changed and for the first time in years, Patton dared to genuinely trust that things would be okay.
“I hope you are correct. I may not believe he deserves to be with you, but I could never want you to be hurt again.”
The detective never lowered his head or hunched his shoulders, but the tension and pain around his eyes and jaw was clear to see.
Logan’s selfless honesty almost broke Patton’s heart. He could see how much the man was torturing himself and he wanted nothing more than to ease his suffering. The detective clearly hated his relationship and hurt whenever Patton returned to Trevor. He’d seen it in the crushed looks, felt it in the worried and protective way he’d cradled him close. Yet he still let him go without a fuss, relinquishing his hold on him with obvious difficulty. He even wished him well. And Patton should be happy. He’d been so afraid of Logan, of his fury, his power, his ability to hurt and break and force Patton to comply with his wishes through the authority of his position. His terror had almost driven them apart for good. Now that the detective accepted his needs and supported his choices despite his pain and anger, he should feel nothing but relief. And yet, he was proving everything Trevor had said about him right. He was foolish and his heart was quick and stupid. Logan was giving him what he’d fought for. His freedom to make his own choices, the right to choose who to be with - and some part of Patton wished he hadn’t. Now that the older man had set him free, all unlikely chances, all unrealistic dreams of being with him had vanished. Before the patissier had made his choice clear to the detective, there had at least been some lingering hope that perhaps, Logan was pursuing him after all. His hugs had been an offer of safety. At times, his touches had felt like a slow seduction, caressing him with utter gentleness, holding him firmly enough to make him feel kept and protected. The way his deep voice had spoken his name had been filled with tenderness. He’d felt so valued.
His heart was heavy as he realized there was no going back. Logan was still here, still looking at him with this impossible softness, but he had stopped fighting him on his decision. A decision he could not back down from, Patton knew that. But at the same time, he deeply regretted the loss of the possible future Logan’s fierce demands and threats to Trevor had symbolized. While his wave of fury and his loss of control had terrified him, Patton knew they had been an offer of a way out, an offer at something new. Even a way to show his appreciation perhaps? Men fought for what they loved, didn’t they? Possibly, his aggression might have been a sign of a deeper interest? This sort of aggressiveness had always accompanied any relationship he’d known after all. Trevor was so unbalanced because he loved him so much and feared to lose him, wasn’t he? And Logan had been ready to tear down walls and break bones to grasp Patton and take him home, away from his boyfriend and the constant doubt and guilt.
And he knew, it would have broken them apart.
Patton could not live in another relationship where he feared control and violence, where his choices were taken from him and where people even got hurt for him. Trevor was different. He was his responsibility and he knew what to expect from him. He hadn’t been able to help it and he was making an effort now. Logan on the other hand was more than that. Had he refused Patton’s demands, he might have been able to tear him and Trevor apart and even take him with him – there would be no one else left to turn to after all, no place to go but where the older man led him, but their relationship would have been doomed from the start. He’d be restricted and intimidated and would live with the knowledge that his decisions would not be respected. Logan was better than that and Patton deeply, desperately needed him to stay that way. He knew, in his bones, that he needed Logan to remain as good and kind and strong as he was. Someone to trust and look up to. Someone who trusted Patton and respected him. His existence gave him strength. His heart broke at the realization finally truly sunk in. This meant he would never be with the man. He could not leave Trevor on his own volition – not now when they were fixing things – and Logan could not force him or tempt him away since Patton could never feel safe or respected with him if he did.
He swallowed hard, casting his gaze down. His eyes burned.
He was such a mess. Stupid, stupid Patton. He should be happy right now, not cry over impossible things. He’d gotten everything he’d wanted – Trevor, his friends, a hopeful future – and here he was, moping over something he was not going to get anyway. Logan was out of his reach and probably not interested in someone as untidy and disorganized and overly emotional as himself. He’d find a beautiful and successful doctor or lawyer and marry them and be free of all those issues. And Patton would be with Trevor and all would be well. Yes.
Nodding to convince himself, he bravely tried to bring his sunny smile back, brushing his curling hair back to give himself time to compose himself. He was ruining their perfectly wonderful afternoon with his moping!
“Thanks for worrying. I appreciate you being there.” As Patton whispered those words, his throat grew tight. He felt his affection so strongly all of a sudden, as if he’d never see the other man again. For a moment, he felt so terribly trapped and lonely, as if he was locking himself away from everything that mattered to him. There was a distance between them he became desperate to bridge lest he’d lose his chance. He just needed to be held, just for a moment. Unable to give fair warning this time, he threw himself into Logan’s arms, burrowing his face in his chest and simply holding on. The detective tensed in surprise, before bringing his arms up automatically. He was obviously confused and overwhelmed with the sudden intensity of the situation, judged by his stuttering breath, but he never disappointed Patton, pulling him close instead of speaking – perhaps because he was floundering about what to say – and pressing him against his chest just right. The slight patissier drew a shuddering breath, not understanding why he felt so desperately needy. He couldn’t be close enough. Appearing to feel his need on some level, Logan leaned back and allowed his friend to sprawl over his chest, half in his lap, until he couldn’t see anything but the darkness those arms enveloped him in, feel his warmth and breath and smell his cologne and soap. As he was held tightly and safely, slowly, the panicked feeling started so recede. The heavy weight of loss and sadness in his chest would not quite go away, but even so, Logan’s hold made it easier to gain strength, to remember the good things. He was not losing his friend, he was right here. How silly he was! And most importantly, he loved Trevor. He really, truly did. Held safely, it was not impossible to remember how his boyfriend looked when Patton had made him truly happy. The image of his smiling face, the eyes crinkling at the corners, the little laugh, it made his heart swell. His joy brought Patton so much pleasure, he wanted to see more of it. He wanted him to be happy and he wanted to be with him in good times again. He looked forward to it. With new strength, he pulled back, smiling unconsciously at the memory of Trevor’s face lit up with honest laughter.
“Thank you.” He mumbled, grateful to the befuddled detective for offering his care without asking questions about his strange moods. Spurred by his hopefully swelling heart, filled with so much love and expectations for a bright future, he leaned up and kissed his detective’s cheek sweetly.
Drawing back, a flash of reddish blond caught his gaze in the window.
///////////////////////
The image of the two of them burned him whenever he closed his eyes, he’d never felt pain like this before, like it cut into him like a physical thing, making him flinch and curl around his wounded chest. For some reason, his thoughts were stuck on a random detail, so small in comparison to the devastating picture that had hit him like a slap in the face - the height difference between them seemed to circle around in his brain, stuck like a splinter he kept picking at until the skin bled, tiny and insignificant, but impossible to ignore, setting his nerves on fire and infecting him with red hot agony. He was tall.
Taller than him.
He’d looked so tiny in his arms.
His hands looked so big on him.
Proprietary.
Patton slipped through the door into their apartment Trevor had fled into just as it was about to fall shut, out of breath, his face ashen with horror. He stumbled over the tidy row of shoes in his haste, tumbling against the wall clumsily. He’d followed Trevor home as fast as his legs would carry him, terror making his heart thunder and his breath come in short pants. Raising his hands in a placating gesture, he tried to speak – tried to lie.
Trevor wouldn’t hear it again. He cut him off, expecting to sound loud, angry – yet his own voice sounded nothing like he intended, it was a shock to him, small, shaking, begging.
“What was that?! Why did you tell me- I thought – you said you’d be with me – you promised you wouldn’t – and with him -” He gasped, quivering. He could see nothing but Patton in the tall man’s arms. He’d been as good looking as he’d feared, composed and elegant and so much – too much to hope to compete with – he’d always known Patton would find someone better, someone who didn’t lose control again and again and again no matter how hard he tried, and he’d tried, every time he’d hated himself. And the other - he was just like he’d imagined him, countless times, taking Patton away, his large hands on his boyfriend’s hips. A wave of despair overwhelmed him. How could he go on now? He couldn’t lose the only thing that mattered – the worst thing wasn’t the touch – the loss, though.
“Why did you make me think we could fix –“ He gasped, bis sight blurry. “You- you made me th-think I could be good enough, I t-tried so hard, I – I tried – I always try-” He screeched suddenly. He knew what he had been doing, he hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but his temper, his anger, he just felt so weak and overwhelmed, sometimes he just couldn’t- but Patton had made him believe, he’d been so ready to try everything – but even as he’d made him hope, Patton had already moved on. He hadn’t even let him show him. He’d chosen something better.
He’d been in his arms. He’d kissed him. He’d reassured Trevor, looked him in the eye and said he loved him and then he’d gone straight to him. Why had he made him hope? Why would he torture him like that – play him like that?! It was so cruel. Did he think – was this a joke to him?!
The thought hooked into his mind like a claw, piercing deep, drawing hot, gushing blood. The powerful, seething, crimson tide rose in Trevor’s chest, higher and mightier with every thought of his failure, his loss, the betrayal. Furious anger swallowed him up like a wave of boiling, lashing water. The detective, he’d been after his boyfriend from the start – Trevor had known it. He’d avoided the cafe unconsciously, had known it would take Patton from him, had known he’d meet someone, even though he’d promised – he was overwhelmed, helpless, furious, he’d made his promise to make everything well just the night before. He’d thought it meant the world. A renewal, a way to finally be healthy and happy. He was a weary, so brittle, he’d wanted to believe it so badly. Patton had looked so earnest. They’d kissed, touched – he’d believed things would be well, trusted him with his life, didn’t he know how much Trevor had given to him, how much he needed-
But Patton hadn’t cared.
The wave rose. He was untethered. He was pulled under.
Carefully, Patton approached him and he lunged, backhanded the whore right across the face. A cry echoed across the vast, empty room. The crash of a body hitting the floor fueled something primal in him. The door slammed shut and he was onto his prey, his tormentor – the man who’d promised him everything and had ripped it all apart. The man he couldn’t live without. The man that had hurt him so much, so much. He was losing his hold, he felt hot humiliation burn in his veins, sizzling desperation. He’d been made a fool, Patton had never wanted to fix them, he’d laughed at him with the detective – he’d never been good enough. Everything was falling apart, the pieces were slipping from his fingers, he was so helpless, being bashed and pulled by his own conflicting emotions, he couldn’t survive without him, his everything, his Patton - who felt like he was better, who’d gone behind his back after giving him hope, he had betrayed him-
He grabbed Patton by the shoulder – so thin under his brutal hand, yanked him up - his whimper made blood and adrenalin flood his head, high pitched, grating. He couldn’t bear to hear it, so loud, too much, he hated – he needed to silence him.
Unseeing fury drove his fist into his victim’s stomach, making him cough and retch. Patton fell to the floor hard, his knees buckling uselessly under him. It wasn’t enough. His fist was driven down on him again, beating, ripping, destroying.
*
He couldn’t breathe, black spots appeared before his vision. A fist to the side of his head smashed him down hard, making blackness consume him for a shocking moment. Blood spilled from his split lip. The pain in his skull almost split him in half – he was disoriented – he needed to tell him – but his tongue wouldn’t work – everything was spinning, fear choking him with his thunderous heartbeats, he tried to bring his arms up to shield himself but he couldn’t see, everything was blurring, where was Trevor?
A crash, shattering glass – so loud in his ringing ears it seemed to shake the apartment made him flinch. Something cut his raised arm like a whip, spilling sticky liquid over his skin, his throat closed up around the explanation, the apologies – he needed to – his mouth filled with blood, his stomach turned sharply-
Another slap cut his lip, a sharp pain traveled up his ankle, he choked up blood from where he’d cut the inside of his cheek on his teeth, how could he have let it come to this?! Trevor’s face was twisted with nothing but agony, red and raw like a gruesome mask, so very easy to recognize for Patton, who was so familiar with the pain, the guilt, the fear clawing up his spine, consuming him in a primal flash of terror.
*
His fists were shaking, his breath coming in uneven gasps. For a sudden moment, he was able to see through the haze of rage.
Patton’s small form lay crumbled on the floor, holding quivering hands up uselessly to protect himself. Blood dripped down his arm, his lip.
His voice shook. It was barely above a whisper. Pleading.
“Please, you promised.”
His narrow, bruised chest was heaving with the effort to breathe, his hazel eyes wide and terrified, bitter tears mixing with the blood running from his split lip. He sounded broken.
Worse. He did not sound surprised.
It was a punch in the gut. He had never believed Trevor could do it- his failure had always been expected. He was everything that gave Trevor strength, everything he had to hold onto, and he’d never trusted him in the first place. All he’d done was make him think there was a chance, make him hope, and then crush him with the knowledge of his pathetic deficiency.
The blood on Patton’s face made his heart thunder, making him pulse with anger hate failure, bright crimson, accusing him, he’d failed again, it made guilt and humiliation twist and intertwine with the rage, the feeling of defeat, of falling into a hole after waking up from his madness, seeing the effect of his loss of control, his babe, broken and ugly, smeared with blood, dragging himself up, looking at him with fear, forgiving him again, he always had to forgive him he couldn’t do it right, the water in the bathroom turning red as he washed the traces of Trevor’s failure off his body with shaking, cut hands. Trevor hated the detective for being so good, so smart and successful and unreachable, for being superior, too much to hope to compete with, he felt small and useless, insignificant and helpless and angry at him for making Patton turn from him, making him feel this way, for making him do this again – for failing again – he’d thought he’d controlled it now, he’d been strong, he’d protected his babe from himself and now he’d made him lose his hold, it was all in vane, he was nothing, and Patton had drawn this onto himself, why had he made him fail, why hadn’t he seen how hard he’d tried, he’d turned it around, he’d done better, HE’D FIXED IT and he still went back to this other who was better the whore he didn’t want him he hated Patton he hated HIMSELF.
He’d deserved this.
Half crazed, Trevor grabbed a brutal fist full of the patissier’s hair, yanking him up on his knees before him. He needed to regain control, assert his strength somehow, his anger drove him to grow hotter, wilder-
He’d asked for this.
+++++++
His trembling fingers fumbled with his belt, his fly, the smaller man cried out, his heart racing, frantically trying to pull away, ripping out bloody strands of hair.
No, please not again! Patton vividly remembered the only time Trevor had lost control to his anger so badly, still tasted bitterness on his tongue whenever he recalled the terrible night. It had been their worst one yet, he’d been so mad, forcing Patton onto his knees, spitting insults and self-loathing, prying his jaw open with ruthless hands. Patton had been paralyzed by horror, disbelieving of what was to come. He’d never thought Trevor would do something so terrible to him, he’d never – but he’d forced his cock into his mouth with one thrust, shoving Patton forward by the hand in his hair, making him take him all the way, way too far. Shock had frozen him for long, agonizing seconds, before his body had rebelled with revulsion and terror. He had scrambled against the unforgiving hold, unable to breathe, panic flooding him. Trevor had been mad with rage, brutally thrusting into him, calling him a slut, a whore, a monster, forcing his way into the smaller man’s throat, making his choke, making him retch. Bile had filled his mouth, lack of air making him thrash and cough, fighting to breathe, fighting for his very life. Trevor had only pulled back long enough to make him cough, gasp, before he’d yanked him back, twisting his hands in the weaker man’s hair, making him take it till he was finished. Once he’d come down his throat, he’d dropped Patton as if he were something rotten, disgusting and vile. As if Patton were dirty. He’d never forgotten the look. It still haunted him at odd moments, made him flush with shame and humiliation. He’d never stopped feeling it. As he’d lain on the cold tiles, bitter vomit and semen running down his chin and mixing with the blood in his mouth, right before he passed out in the dirt smeared over his face and chest, he’d felt like he deserved to be looked at this way.
Terrified, hot tears ran down his cheeks as Trevor yanked his face up by the fist twisted in his locks. He tried to plead, to beg. He couldn’t survive this again, he couldn’t.
“No, please, please I can’t, you promised, you said you’d never make me-”
“SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH YOU LYING WHORE!”
Trevor screamed, shaking Patton so hard by the hair it made his teeth clash together painfully. The taller man heaved, tears falling onto the bloody face beneath him. His own was twisted into a reddened, horrid mask of fury and anguish. His mouth had turned into an ugly grimace, caught between a snarl and a sob. He managed to undo his fly, fumbled with his underwear-
++++++++
A crash echoed through the apartment like a gunshot, shockingly loud. It left both men deafened for a long, horrifying moment.
Blearily, Trevor looked up from the body at his feet. The realization came a few heartbeats too late. A fist crashed into his face with the force of a freight train, making him drop like a leaden weight.
It had been a gunshot.
The projectile had shattered the lock of their front-door, making it afford no protection against the kick that almost ripped it off its hinges. Only his extensive training had made the detective punch the attacker instead of shooting him on sight. Had he had time to process the picture he’d seen, he might have murdered the man in cold blood, leaving nothing but a shredded corpse. The moment he found Patton crumbling to the floor however, nothing else mattered to the detective. Flooded with a cold horror he had never experienced before, he sunk to the ground in front of him.
/////////////////
Patton.
Oh Patton.
His hands shook at the sight before him, his breath coming in a sob. Oh no.
He reached out, impossibly horrified-
Patton flinched, crying out and shielding himself. His ears were ringing, the shot had been so loud. It did not matter that no one was touching him, he was trapped, his heart raced so hard, it felt like it would give out, he choked on phantom touches, lightheaded and frozen. Knowing he could not fight, he could not get away, he curled up, hiding his face in his bleeding arms, waiting for whatever he’d be put through in blind terror.
He was so cold.
He did not know how long he lay there, quivering and crying, waiting for the violence he’d been so sure he’d never have to endure again, until finally, a sound cut through the blood rushing in his ears. A sob. Someone else was crying.
Looking up went against all of his hard learned instincts of making himself small and invisible.
He needed seconds to understand what he was seeing.
Logan was kneeling before him, tears streaming down his face. His clean, lovely hands were twisted tightly around each other, shaking as badly as Patton was. His eyes… there were no words to describe how shattered he looked. The patissier whimpered, strenuously drawing himself up.
“L-Logan?”
The detective tried to speak, his voice breaking. He had to start again, visibly fighting the urge to touch Patton, to envelop him in his arms and pick him up from the hard, white tiles smeared with blood.
Logan felt utterly helpless. Patton’s eyes were so wide, so hurt. Another sob threatened to break free from the confines of the detective’s chest. He felt half numb, half tortured. For a long moment, he could barely make sense of how terribly Patton had been treated. The sheer cruelty felt impossible.
He realized he did not know what to say.
Patton appeared disoriented, shock settling in and making his thin limbs quiver like leaves in the wind. He was so tense and tiny, his breaths coming in uneven gasps – but quiet, like he was trying hard not to be noticed. His strength seemed to leave him suddenly, threatening to make his arms give out and make him fall. Logan reached out on instinct to steady him. A frightened gasp and flinch made him freeze. He was too large, too close. The detective fumbled to find words he knew would fall short.
“Patton, I-I would never harm you. You are safe now.” The detective’s deep, unsteady voice pleaded with him to trust him. His hands were raised in a placating gesture, open and non-threatening, tears dripping down his chin. Patton could not look away for a long, fearful moment. Trevor’s hands had been balled into fists, veins and tendons staining against the bones, the skin broken at the knuckles. Terror flooded him once again, gripping him like a mouse pierced by an eagle’s claws. The patissier scooted back, his breath hitching. His right hand braced itself on broken glass, driving the shards into his palm. Logan’s eyes burned, horror and anguish flooding his voice.
“Wait, please – you don’t need to fear me! I am so sorry, I did not meant to frighten you, I only – I only want to help you.” He almost whimpered, feeling utterly helpless. “I would never touch you without your consent, I- I will stay right here, alright?”
Patton nodded, unconsciously drawing his wounded hand into his lap. It was full of glass shards cutting his soft skin. It hurt Logan to see it like nothing he’d ever felt before. Think, you useless fool, he berated himself. He wished Virgil and Roman were here.
“You are cold, may I get you a blanket?” He asked carefully, fearful of doing anything Patton couldn’t place. The detective did not like how long it took the baker to answer with another nod. He wondered if he even heard him. The urge to hold him became almost unbearable. Thankfully, he found a blanket draped over the back of the leather couch, stiff with how little it had been moved. He sank back on his knees before the injured creature.
“Patton, may I put this around your shoulders? Please?” Upon receiving another nod, he approached the other slowly, uselessly wishing he were less frightening, he were better at this, that he could just fix everything. Patton clenched his teeth as Logan leaned close to wrap the blanket around him like it was something he was forced to endure, as if a wild animal were about to tear into him if he moved too much. He was trapped by a man’s closeness and his memories.
“There you go, Patton. It will be alright. May I help warm you? I swear I will leave the moment you tell me to.” Logan attempted to assure him, having no idea whether his physical reassurance would help or make things worse. At this point, Patton’s nod felt less like agreement than learned behavior in traumatic situations. Logan didn’t know if he could trust it, didn’t know what to do, so he carefully, as slowly and gently as he was able, pulled the patissier against his side, hugging him loosely.
“I am so sorry.” He cried, his tears falling on bloody curls.
“It’s fine.” Patton mumbled hoarsely, breaking Logan’s heart. Yet the warmth and familiar hold seemed to thaw something in the younger victim. He started breathing more deeply, slowly leaning against the detective. He was coming back to him. And with it, the realization that this was all his fault. All of his blood, his cut skin and bruised body, Trevor had inflicted the pain he’d himself felt, because Patton had made him hope where there was none. Instead of cutting his losses, he had tried to make everything right that was broken so far past repair. He’d believed all of the promises as if he didn’t know better. He was so foolish, so stupid. Too stupid to fix them. Somehow, the worst thing was that just minutes ago, he’d told Logan to trust him. That things would be alright. He’d believed it. He was so ashamed.
Feeling tiny and ugly and so stupid, he sobbed, burying his face in Logan’s arms. He was here. He held on to him, rocking him gently and shielding him from the world. Patton found himself in his lap as he realized the cold had stopped seeping into him from the tiled floor. His hand was cradling his neck, his arm supporting his back, holding him entirely. Patton’s strength left him.
At least, as he sunk into the hold unresistingly, his frazzled nerves tortuously slowly realizing he was safe, the truth about Trevor started to sink in. He would never change.
It was over.
The thought triggered a pressing memory in his sluggish mind. Trevor? Icy fear came with it. He’d come to feel so safe in Logan’s arms, like his protection and Trevor’s threats could not exist in the same world, but they did. They were in the same room. He flinched, whimpering silently. Where-
Through tears and blood clouding his vision, he spotted a prone form crumbled on the ground behind the man holding him. He shrank back, shocked.
“Oh n-no Trevor- d-did you – is he...”
“No! Of course not, he will recover, I merely incapacitated him. I promise.” Logan assured him hastily, seeing terror of the effect of his violent intervention seep into the broken young man before him. “I am so sorry you had to see this, Patton.”
It seemed to be the last straw for the patissier. He was simply overwhelmed.
“Logan.” His voice broke on an unworded plea. Yet, the detective understood without having to be told.
“Please, let me take you home.” He whispered.
After a long moment, Patton nodded. As carefully as if he were cradling a newborn kitten, Logan bundled the injured young man into the blanket and lifted him into his arms. Glass crunched under his shoes as he carried him outside, hiding his tear stained face from the shocked neighbors finally daring to enter the hallway. Patton heard none of it. He pressed his face to Logan’s chest and closed his eyes.
ART:
@dweeborg created this gorgeous combination of Roman with stunning makeup and Virgil with his lovely hair, as well as a (shirtless, yum) picture of Virgil feeling good after his spa day.
How cute is Logan with Nicodemus on his shoulder?! Painted by @lienlovesshadowhunters
@doctorwhooian drew Roman being absolutely STUNNING in a crop-top and knee-high boots.
A personal favorite: @typical-torii gifted us with a drawing of RoRo having his locks combed to the side, looking bad-ass after a fight. He’s so fricking pretty like that!
A picture I absolutely LOVE – Roman glittering and lovely with a super cute man-bun giving Virgil inappropriate feelings, their expressions are just so utterly adorable and the raccoon in judging. Thanks a thousand times to @anxiously-chill
Next Chapter
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Well, yes, but also no. I guess that was a little vague, whoops. I meant that Virgil *wasn't* his original name. Assuming that Deceit and Remus are distortions of Patton and Roman respectively, I was thinking maybe Virgil had a name more similar to Logan, and changed it to Virgil to distance himself from the fact that he was a Dark Side. Virgil is the new name, which is why it's so different from all the others. -🔷
Oh! I gotcha now haha. Tbh my brain kinda goes blank on all these Sanders Sides theories ^^;
Plus I haven’t been a “fander” in a long while so I’m lagging behind on a couple episodes.
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Trying to Survive: Chapter 22
Summary: Virgil just wants to live as himself. There are bumps in the road, but hey, life isn’t easy.
Pairing: Analogical
Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, panic attacks, eventual toxic parent, transphobia, descriptions of the inner workings of a trans male, more food, can you tell that I like pizza?, also brief mention of sensory overload, if you see anything else tell me!!
Word Count: 849
~~~
The game was afoot. Roman and Virgil on one team, using the purplish red bowling balls, and Patton and Logan on the other, using the electric blue bowling balls.
The one thing that nobody had counted on, however, was Virgil’s hidden skill of managing a strike nearly every single round. After his fourth strike in a row, Roman had whooped and given Virgil a short fistbump before turning to Logan with a smug grin on his face.
“Jealous that I’m beating you with the help of your own boyfriend, Lo?” Logan’s cheeks became a light pink before he picked up a bowling ball.
“Preposterous. You are not the one on your team with any sort of skill.” Patton made an ooh-ing noise from where he was sat next to Virgil, his hand dipped into the bag of Doritos they had bought a few minutes ago. “I have no reason to be jealous of Virgil carrying your team.” Logan took his shot, managing to get a strike himself.
“Hey, Virge?” Patton asked as Logan and Roman kept up the back and forth teasing.
“Yeah?”
“When’s your birthday? I just realised that I don’t know and I wouldn’t want to miss it.” Patton smiled warmly. Virgil thought for a moment.
“Huh, it’s in three weeks today.” Patton gasped and stared wide-eyed at Virgil. “Did I say something wrong…?”
“It’s so soon? Oh gosh I don’t even have a present for you or anything!”
“It’s alright, Pat, I didn’t really expect anybody to get me anything.” Patton stayed silent as they watched Roman take his second shot, resulting in a further two pins being knocked down with the four he got with his first one.
“Does Logan know how soon your birthday is? I’m sure he would want to celebrate it.
“I’m not really into big celebrations, Pat…” Virgil trailed off, staring into space as he chewed his lip. There really was something he wanted for his birthday, but it was finding the right words to ask.
“Patton? It’s your turn.” Logan reminded Patton as he walked up to them. “Are you two alright?” Patton beamed as he stood up, shaking off his concern for the moment.
“Yep, absolutely fine! I’ll go take my shot now, try not to eat my share of Doritos!” And with that, Patton walked up to the lane. Logan took Patton’s seat, his hand lying next to one of Virgil’s.
“I hope that this in some way bridges the gap between you and Roman. He can be rather abrasive but he is not a bad person.” When Logan received no response, he gently placed his hand over Virgil’s, causing Virgil to snap back into reality, almost starting away until he realised who it was. “Are you alright, Virgil?”
“Y-yeah,” Virgil nodded, pulling his hoodie more tightly around himself with his free hand before curling his legs up onto the chair he was sitting on. “Is it just me or did it get really loud suddenly?”
“You might be getting overwhelmed, there are more people about now. Would you prefer to head home? We have been here for a few hours already.” After thinking for a moment, Virgil shook his head.
“I’m okay, really.” Noticing that Logan was still holding his hand, Virgil gently squeezed Logan’s hand, trying to be reassuring. Logan squeezed back, before looking up as Roman came over, stretching his arms.
“Well I don’t know about you two lovebirds, but I need something to eat before we continue raging this bowling war.”
“Ooh, let’s get pizza!” Patton exclaimed as he also joined them. “There’s a brand new pizza place near here, I’ve been meaning to check it out!”
“Patton, you need to keep your diet balanced, you cannot keep eating pizza, even with different toppings.” Logan pointed out. Roman huffed.
“You always do this when we want to have fast food, Lo-” Roman paused, his eyes landing on Virgil. “But there’s four of us now, and three against one will be enough of a split to sway even your logical mind! So what d’ya say, Storm Cloud?” Virgil internally cringed at the nickname, and his gaze shifted between all three of them. Patton was trying his best at puppy dog eyes, Roman was flashing him an almost cocky smile, and Logan was looking at him, his eyes holding an emotion that Virgil couldn’t decipher. After a minute, he sighed.
“We don’t all have to eat the same thing. We could go to the pizza place Patton mentioned and try to find stuff we all wanna eat, maybe.” Patton cheered triumphantly and Roman pumped his fist in the air, before the pair began to gather their things, Patton chanting the word ‘pizza’ over and over again. Logan sighed, standing up and waiting for Virgil, who looked up at the scoreboard for a few seconds then grabbed his own bag and got up. “We still beat you,” Virgil couldn’t help but mumble, trying to fight the smile on his face. Logan breathed out a laugh, and the pair wandered after Patton and Roman’s chanting, hands loosely together.
~~~
Trying to Survive Taglist:
@exquisitestardust @romanamongthestars @darknightvirgil @coffee-spice @faacethefacts @ten-cent-thoughts @a-whole-lot-of-screaming @roboticpenmanship @samuelcwboslyn @sylveon-lover-crazyfangirl1415 @louvrejpeg @allycat31415 @aquilacalvitium @midnightalex12 @sinful-stars @princeanxious @randomperson0055 @snowcherri @individual-charlie @certifiedfangirlluna @lowkeyvirgilobsessed @cdragontogacotar @enderperson43 @your-username-is-unavailable @awkward-avocado-of-death @lesliealiceinwonderland @mewmewmika @whatcanisay-imafan-der @dorkanddrearykay @kingalexdreaming @queerly-anxious @wtfislifecat @illogical-anxieties @hamster-corn @canadian-crofters @astraastro @ab-artist @raygelkitty @featuredfander @confinesofpersonalknowledge @kameraishere @starry-eyed-haiku-dreamer @secretlyanxiouspersona @cjcipher666 @booksandpages @thestoryofme13 @kri-marie-b-the-nb @hissesssss @they-call-me-anxiety @the-literal-fae @ravenclawunicorn1 @crownswriter123 @avvkvvardmermaid @never-the-maknae @dannerism @nightmareelmst @infinitysgrace @strongindependentcheesecake @caffeinated-casper @lucifer-in-my-head @theresneverenoughfandoms @pixiedylan @no-life-no-problem @periwinklewinter @edgykatdoesthething @aleicim @soft-boy-patton @jazensnothuman456 @band-be-boss-blog @1totally-not-an-alien1 @quietwords-loudthoughts @potassium-over-dose @derp-a-la-sheep @imbasicallypunklogan @theitalianalchemist @meep-meep-motherfucker @emily-in-wonderland @a-little-bit-of-ace @pastelprinceofthestars @hemooryctolagus @kiwisandsprinkles @unikornavenger @shadowsfromthesun @lotusthatexists @echomist13 @sopi-montezzz @noahlovescoffee @a-fander-named-skittles @kitthepan @podcastsandcoffee
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/images from patreon video under cut
You’re gonna have to put up with me gushing about this
So STORYTIME
Myself and @miguel-manbemel were talking about the livestream that aired on the YouTube membership after Learning New Things About Ourselves and Thomas and Joan had mentioned in it that they were thinking about posting the footage of Thomas acting out what the puppets were supposed to do as reference to Nate, the puppeteer, on his second channel. Well since nothing had manifested from that, I proposed Miguel and I ask if Thomas could release the footage to patreon if he still had it/had time. Well the man actually wrote that down and turns out? He still had it!
So my fellow fanders, if y’all have Patreon or are thinking of getting it, this is your sign to got for it. It is AMAZING to watch. LNTAO without puppets lol
And now imma talk about it to death here I gooooo 😂
First my favourite screen shots of the boys as human puppets 🩵💙💜❤️
❥quick little sneaky 4th wall smile from Pat 😍
❥’An ARM’ funniest joke in the whole Ep of amazing jokes
❥Virgil almost saying LOVE 😳
❥Stretchy arm Logan ❤️💙
One joke that ws not clear to me all these years:
C!Thomas: Let’s not point fingers
Puppet!Patton: *points a finger* You can say that again *realizes he’s pointing a finger* Whoops butterfingers.
I’ll tell u I never understood bc the puppet can’t point a finger! 😂
✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩
More Patton beloved 🥹🩵🤍
Roman ❤️ getting hit in the eye
If he only knew how much Logan regretted it 💔😔
I love him so much here. Seriously none of them have to even wear the outfits, you just know it’s that character. He can wear green all he wants! 😅
Virgil 💜 I still can’t get over Virgil’s face when he almost says ‘when you love someone’ 😳😂 nooo they can’t know I love themmmm
The laughing is him doing the Count bit
Joan hug is ‘don’t hug me I’m scared’
Logan 💙
I feel like this whole thing proves the sides should have ‘casual day’ at some point
Logan as a robot but human is just LOOK AT HIM 🥺💙
Lemme do a reblog Ive got more…
#thomas sanders#sanders sides#roman sanders#logan sanders#ts roman#patton sanders#ts logan#virgil sanders#LNTAO#puppet episode#patreon#Thomas sanders patreon#without puppets
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Interrogation
Or, just a little something to make up for what I posted this morning. :)
--
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself, Billy?"
The Angsty Ball of Angst Angst (hereafter ABAA) shines a light in my eye, and I wince.
"Look, can't this wait a few days?" I plead. "I just barely got out of surgery." I gesture towards my taped-up middle for emphasis.
"Nope, no can do, bub. The Fanders are looking for answers, and they want them now."
"I...look, it was just an accident," I insist. "You've gotta believe me. We love Logan. Everyone does!"
"Well then why is the crayon representing his color the only one that's broken?" ABAA shoots back.
I sigh. "Well, if you'd just let me explain myself, I'd tell you. It all started yesterday morning..."
--
I was just lying in bed, minding my own business. We hadn't been called out in a few weeks, but that day Patton felt like drawing a nice picture of everyone, so he opened the drawer and pulled us out.
"Yay!" Gregory the Green Crayon cried. "Patton's gonna draw another picture!"
"I wouldn't get your hopes up if I were you," Randy the Red Crayon said. "He's just gonna draw another picture of the Sides. There's normally not much green involved in those pictures. Roman, on the other hand..." He rolled around in glee.
"Aw, well maybe he'll decide to draw them all sitting outside under a tree!" Charlie the Cyan crayon offered. "You never know, really."
"Well, in any case," I began, "it will be nice to get a little air for once."
We had to stop talking then as Patton opened the box and dumped us all on the ground. I moaned softly; I did always wish Patton thought these things through a little. Still, it did feel nice to be used.
Patton was sprawled out on the floor, coloring and humming Disney songs to himself, when suddenly he looked up at the clock.
"Oh no!" he exclaimed. "Thomas is filming a new Sanders Sides video today and I have to be there!" He scrambled to get ready, and sadly stepped on me in the process.
He looked down at his foot. "Oh, whoops," he said sheepishly. He picked me up and put me on the desk, and put the rest of my brothers back on the desk too for good measure. Then he left the room.
"Well this is just great! Now Patton doesn't have a blue crayon. What's gonna happen now?" Percy the Purple Crayon griped.
"Guess you're just gonna have to get thrown in the garbage," Yvan the--get this--Yellow Crayon said with a sneer.
I looked down helplessly at the place where I'd been snapped in half. "But I don't want to be thrown away," I whined.
We all laid around while Patton was out, and eventually he came back, ready to start his project again.
He looked down at the paper. Logan's doodle was practically finished, so he decided he'd leave me alone for now. Instead he picked up Randy instead, and started to draw Roman. Randy grinned at us as he got lifted off the desk, and I just laid there, my heart about as broken as my wrapping.
The afternoon passed without incident as Charlie and Percy got taken away to do their respective jobs. Even Gregory got to do his part--Charlie was right that Patton would want to draw them outside. But I just stayed on the desk.
But just then, something amazing happened: The Photographer knocked on his door.
"Hey, hurry up! It's time to pose for your picture," he told Patton.
"Oh yeah!" Patton said as he jumped up. "What do I need to bring for that again?"
"Just a copy of the card you made for Virgil and a half-eaten cookie. Oh yeah, and crayons!" the Photographer replied. "The flowers and puppies will be provided."
"Alright!" He got up, scribbling a duplicate card, and gathered all the crayons (me included) over to the studio.
"Whoa, hold on there." The Photographer stopped him as he went past. "Are you sure you want that blue one in the picture? It looks a little...broken," he said. I stuck my tongue out at him.
Patton looked down at me. "What, you mean Billy? Of course he's going in the picture! He's part of the family! It wouldn't be a pack of crayons without him."
The Photographer gave Patton a funny look. "I mean, if you want all the colors, I'm sure we could find you another blue crayon."
"No! You can't just replace Billy like that!" Patton insisted, caressing me gently. "I may have been careless and mistreated him, and I'm sorry for that. But he's still my crayon."
The Photographer rolled his eyes. "Very well then. Come along."
--
"...And that's what happened," I finish.
The ABAA shrinks a little. "So there's no Logan angst coming up in future videos?"
"No."
"And Patton isn't mad at Logan for anything?"
I shake my head. "Of course not. Look, the only reason I wound up in the poster was because...well, Patton was just being Patton. He loves me anyway even if I don't work properly. And I know he'll take better care of me in the future." As I say this, the Fluffy Ball of Fluff Fluff finally appears in the background, growing stronger with every word. I look behind me and give a sigh of relief to see it.
"Now, can I go now?"
"Yes, of course, Billy!" says the ABAA, now cowering at the sight of the FBFF looming above him. "Sorry for the confusion."
"That's what I thought," I say, and hobble out of the interrogation room.
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Atlantis
I should finally post something for once whoops-Also- I didn’t really proofread this so I apologise in advance for any wrong grammar and spelling mistakes. And the lyrics mentioned are from the song Atlantis by Seafret. I changed she to he though since- reasons.
The birds have left the trees. The light pours onto me.
Roman laid on his bed, his right arm covering his eyes as he used his left hand to try covering the sobs that he desperately tried holding in. Though it had been two months already, it still hurt him too much. No matter how many times he listened to his favourite songs, no matter how many times he had tried to watch Disney in order to feel any other feeling aside from the painful emptiness that seemed like it could never be removed. He hadn't been going out of his room- even if he needed to eat. The only times he would was when there was a Sanders Sides video to be filmed. But even if he could finally be in front of the audience like what he had always loved- he felt so small under each of the viewer's gaze.
I can feel you lying there all on your own.
He finally gave up, letting out a couple of whimpers as he gripped on his shirt tightly. His room was no longer the practical embodiment of a prince's bedroom and a theatre anymore. Almost everything was now a dull shade of grey with hints of white and black on different things that were once the colours red and gold. He was getting real tired of having to put a mask every now and then. As much as it relieved him that the others couldn't see what he had been trying so hard to hide, there was still a part of him that wished that maybe they saw and would worry. He wanted to be normal again- but with his heart still aching..it seemed almost impossible for the creative side to be able to dream what he used to worry about.
We got here the hard way.
He looked at the pictures scattered on his bed. The pictures that held so many bittersweet memories he wished he could just go back to. Yes, he was mad. He was mad at everything. At the pictures, at the stuff he gave him. He looked to his right, where the stuffed animal, roses, and something that was no longer important sat. He had worked so hard on the animal only to find out that it was never going to be needed. But hey, at least he tried! Right?
All those words that we exchanged. Is it any wonder things got broke?
More whimpers came out as he sat up from his now uncomfortable and cold bed. He looked at all the pictures that were still framed on his wall, the tears still falling. He looked specifically at the one from a couple months ago. The two of them were making silly faces with ice cream cones in their hands. They were at Disneyland and that was where he got multiple gifts from the rigged games his ex won for him. He looked at another and his heart ached even more. It was a picture of him kissing his cheek while they were having their first date together under the stars. It was cliche, yes, but it was absolutely perfect and amazing and Roman could never forget it. Though, sometimes, he wish he could if it meant stopping the emptiness..
It's in my heart and in my head. I'll never take back the things I said. So high above, I feel it coming down and he said, in my heart and in my head. Tell me why this has to end. Oh no, oh no.
He looked away, a pained expression on his face. The words started ringing in his ears again and he wished it would stop. There was never a single time where he regretted not trying hard enough. But he did his best... Well, according to the other two anyways.
He never thought he was a good person. So of course, how could he be a good boyfriend? He wasn't there for him often and he cared about himself instead of the one he loved and still loves. He regretted joking back when he 'joked' about suicide. He regretted not noticing the subtle hints he was giving- that things would start getting worse if Roman didn't stop thinking about just himself. And now, he's too late. He can't fix what had been broken for months.
I can't save us, my Atlantis, we fall. We built this town on shaky ground. I can't save us, my Atlantis, we fall. We build it up to pull it down.
Roman screamed. He screamed and he screamed until his throat hurt. But even through the pain, he still continued anyways. He wanted to just forget every single thing already. He didn't want to have to deal with all of this pain and guilt and emptiness anymore. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were- happy. He wanted to hold him in his arms again. He wanted to be able to feel the comforting warmth he felt when he thought he wasn't good enough. He wanted his smiles and laughter back. He wanted to play with his hair and make all sorts of flower crowns for each other. He wanted the old times.
He wanted him back.
Now all the birds have fled. The hurt just leaves me scared, losing everything I've ever known.
He stood up from his bed and started pushing things out of their proper places. Roman's concealer, the roses, bear, box, pictures, pillows and others. He also pulled most of his clothing out of the closet- grabbing a pair of scissors and cutting the things he gave him. Sobs escaped his throat as he struggled to breathe and calm down. But he just couldn't hold it in anymore. He hated how he was. Why was he so selfish most of the time? Why did he have to be such a jerk to his once significant other? Why did he have to be the person he was practically made to be?
Ha. Wow. The romantic side having trouble with his own romance. How odd.
It's all become too much. Maybe I'm not built for love. If I knew that I could reach you, I would go.
Roman leaned against the wall, his breathing heavy and fast. He looked at the mess he created and choked back a sob. He was a prince. A prince doesn't admit to defeat so easily. A prince isn't supposed to be weak.
A prince isn't supposed to break hearts.
As the tears kept falling, he heard a loud knock on his door. Roman quickly placed things back together and tried his best to make his room similar to the colours it used to be in. He rushed to the door as he heard another knock. He took a quick breath in and out as he put on a fake smile and opened the door. Outside was the dad figure, a worried look and a small smile on his face. "Hey buddy! I heard you screaming and I thought I'd check on you since you haven't come out of your room for three weeks already. You alright?"
It's in my heart and in my head.
"Yeah, I'm absolutely fantastic Patton! Your worry is highly appreciated! But, I guess if I had to be honest, I've just been feeling quite exhausted lately. Must be from all of the ideas I've been trying to take note of!" Roman smiled as much as he could, not wanting to make the other side in front of him upset. His smile fell and his eyes widened when he saw the sad and disappointed look in Patton's eyes. Roman almost let out a small whimper before he covered it up with another fake smile of his. "What seems to be the matter, Patton?" Roman asked, though he knew very well why Patton was staring at him like that. "Roman, please tell me the truth. You and Virgil haven't been going out of your rooms lately- even if it's just to eat. And I noticed that you two seem to be very distant as well.. Did something happen between the both of you-"
"We're fine Patton, I promise."
You can't take back the things you said.
"Roman, I'm the core of most of our host's feelings. I know when someone is hurting or not. Because believe me, I too, have faked a smile and a laugh just to seem the normal 'dad' me. Plus..it makes me sad when my kiddos don't open up to their dad-"
"Patton, you have no need to worry about the both of us. We're both still our glittery and fabulous selves and I promise that we would tell you the truth all the time-"
"But that's the thing! You both aren't saying the truth! You both aren't okay and Logan and I are getting worried! Even the Fanders have noticed the odd behaviour-"
"Please..stop...."
So high above. I feel it coming down. He said, in my heart and in my head
Roman breath quickened as he heard the familiar deep voice he loved hearing. He looked at Virgil and his heart broke.
There standing, was Virgil. The man who was the reason why Roman was hurting in the first place. The reason why all those sticky notes that said horrible things Roman thought about were on Roman's broken mirror. The reason why his heart ached. The reason why he felt so empty.
"Kiddo! You've gone out of your room for once! It's been three weeks!" Patton shouted, rushing to hug his dark, strange son. Virgil smiled, patting his dad's back before he looked at Roman with such an emotionless face it hurt. As the creative side looked away, a hurt look on his face, he could hear Virgil dragging Patton away- still feeling that emotionless gaze burning through his thick skull. He looked down and saw a piece of purple paper. Taking a closer look, he noticed two words.
'From Virgil'
Tell me why this has to end.
Roman gulped, a lump in his throat as he felt the tears threatening to fall. He hated how much he still loved the person who was the reason for everything.
He took the paper, unfolding it to it's original shape and size as he read through it.
'Dear Roman,
Huh. It's been months since you and I stopped being together. It's been weeks since I saw you for the first time after the break up. You looked so sad.. Your hair wasn't completely fixed, you clothes were all wrinkled, and I could notice the faint eye bags you've hidden with the concealer I gave you. Listen, I have no exact reason for this dumb letter. It'll probably make you hate me more or make you hate yourself more. In all honesty, I don't mind. Just as long I get to say what I've been meaning to say.
I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry for answering that way.
I didn't mean to. I got scared and I thought it was all a joke since you seemed so busy and distant most of the time..
No, I'm not blaming you.
I'm blaming me fore not trusting you- a prince.
Please, don't ever blame yourself. I know you have duties to do with the other sides, Thomas, and the kingdom you rule somewhere. I know that you need as much time as you need for yourself and I'm so sorry for not seeing that.
And, I admit. I miss you so much. But hey, I can't bring it back now. It's been broken and torn apart and I'm scared of ever hurting you again.
Once again, I'm sorry and I still lo-'
Oh no, oh no. I can't save us, my Atlantis. We build this town on shaky ground. I can't save us, my Atlantis. We build it up to pull it down.
Even though it was smudged, Roman knew what the word was and he finally let the tears and whimpers he had been holding out. He sat on the floor as he hugged himself, the note still in his hand. Virgil was right. No matter how much the two would try, they'd end up hurting each other more if they tried giving each other a shot again. Roman knew very well and yet, it hurt. He didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to lose the person he loved just because of a mistake he kept on making.
But it was the right thing to do, letting him go.
If it meant Virgil being happy, then he'd sacrifice his happiness even if it hurts him.
We build it, and we build it up. We build it up to put it down. We build it up, and we build it up. We build it up to pull it down.
Virgil stood by the hallway, tears streaming down his face as he covered his mouth- trying to hide his cries. He listened to Roma- he didn't have the right to say his name. At least, not anymore.
He let himself fall onto the floor, the tears still streaming. As he listened to the muffled sobs his old lover is letting out, he took out the picture he had been keeping. The picture was taken when he and Princey were laying on the grass. They were having a picnic and it was one of the best dates he and Princey ever had. It was so full of happiness and pure love with no pain at all.
Virgil missed it terribly.
I can't save us, my Atlantis, we fall. We built this town on shaky ground. I can't save us, my Atlantis, we fall.
Virgil took one more look at Roman.
We build it up to pull it down.
"I'm so sorry for not letting you have you happily ever after..."
this was a collab between @have-a-pantastic-day and i
#prinxiety#thomas sanders#sanders sides#princey#princey sanders#roman sanders#anxiety#anxiety sanders#virgil sanders#please save my soul#stop me
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My Fanders Sides tag but late
Ha ha whoops I’m late to the train
So I’ve wanted to do this tag for a while now, and I finally got around to it.
I was never tagged but oh well
This tag was created by the wonderful @pansexualroman and I have admired other’s sides, so now it’s my turn like two months too late whoops
Sorry for doing this so awkwardly late I’m actually stupid but here they are~
-
Negativity/Nova
-she/her
-soft gay™
-constantly tired
-loves thunderstorms they make her happy
-embodies my anxiety, pessimism, self-doubt, fears and stress
-always stressed or worried about something
-grumbles constantly, reluctant to do stuff with the others
-freaks out around strangers
-tries to be intimidating (and succeeds if you don’t know her) but when you get to know her, the most cuddly and adorable child you’ve ever seen, 10/10 would cuddle again - review by cameron
-just needs a hug
description:
always in a black jumper, usually wears shorts, barefoot where possible
usually on her phone, listening to sad songs, wrapped up in a blanket in a room where the air conditioner is on its lowest setting
usually has her hair out, except when she’s pissed off
when she puts her hair up, you fucking run
Creativity/Cameron
-they/them
-the one that embodies my musical side, writing and anything to do with the arts
-the loud gay™
-no seriously this is my gay
-LOVES SNOW HOLY SHIT
-FAVE SEASON IS WINTER THEYRE THE ONE MAKING SNOWMEN CONSTANTLY
-they’re my self-confidence
-houses my passion for everything
-the reason I become obsessed with shit
-constantly singing or dancing. always
-the most romantic fucking little twat-
-has a swearing problem
-enjoys blasting songs from musicals and singing to them bc sINCERELY ME IS PERFECT AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWI-
description:
always wanting to wear flower crowns but never does
wears their hair down bc that’s the most comfortable but it’s usually wrapped up in a beanie
wears merch, whether from a youtuber, band or tv show
never wears girly shit or a bra bc they hate it when people call them a girl
they like sweatpants but they’re usually wearing leggings
Logic/Laura
-she/her
-my intelligence
-my passion for learning
-also has a passion for girls *cough* cody *cough*
-loves researching, always eager to learn
-knows everything, recalls stupid random facts in times of need
-in saying that, cannot remember anything for the life of her
-stupid little things like catch-up lessons and something someone said to you two seconds ago are forgotten bc of her honestly
-likes rain, it helps her focus, fave season is autumn tho bc trees and plants and wildlife are really interesting, did you know-
-feelings do not compute
-one of the reasons why I have no idea how to comfort my friends
-despite everything, she’s super cool
-and super pretty - review by cody
-the chill friend
-constantly drinking coffee and is always tired
-likes classical music, but also enjoys musicals
description:
she wears round glasses (bc she bLIND) and has her hair up in a messy top bun, it always looks like it’s been up for a couple of days and strands are sticking out
usually wears jeans and an oversized sweater bc the soft fabric helps her think straight
she’s the palest bc the only time she goes outside is if she wants an example of something, which is probably only like three days a week
still has freckles tho (is the most prone to acne bc research stresses her out sometimes but it’s not too bad)
Compassion/Cody
-she/her/they/them (doesn’t mind)
-extremely happy and bubbly p much all the time
-but when she’s angry, she’s anGRY (angry kisses are a thing she does)
-my friendly side
-also the side that makes me get really excited over shit like baby otters
-obsessed with kittens and wants all the cats in the world bC ALL CATS ARE PERFECT AND WONDERFUL AND-
-accepting, warm, the one that loves hugs
-affectionate af
-loves the sun, favourite season is spring
-always listening
-doesn’t like talking about her own feelings
-she always bottles up her anger, sadness and jealousy and it comes out in scary bursts sometimes, everyone loves her all the same
-always there to give out hugs to those in need
-loves dad jokes
-holy shit do they love dad jokes
-pours her heart into everything
-tries to protect everyone
-a giant nerd™
description:
wears a plaid button up t-shirt, usually wearing her reading glasses bc they like them so much
her hair is usually out except when she’s exercising, baking or reading
they wear shorts all the time, she and laura are the only two that shave (nova doesn’t shave her legs, and Cameron just lets it growwww)
she’ll wear caps if they’re available
has the most freckles bc she loves the sun
relationships with each other:
Nova and Cameron:
They always argue over stupid things, with Nova wanting to not do stuff and Cameron wanting to try eVERYTHING
Their arguments are super heated but always end up resolved if Laura comes to help
But they really enjoy each other’s company, Cameron likes to cheer Nova up by dramatically performing their favourite songs to her
Nova sometimes sings to Cameron to cheer them up when their ego takes a hit, Nova lowkey is the best singer of them all
Lots of cuddling during movie nights
Nova and Laura
They like to discuss things a lot, Laura helps Nova see things without a pessimistic lens and Nova also helps point out all possible ways something could turn out bad bc sometimes, even Laura misses something important
Other than that, they don’t interact much, perhaps the odd book recommendation
Nova and Cody:
Cody always finds herself calming Nova down
Nova sometimes gets annoyed that Cody is so positive all the time, she doesn’t understand it
Cody’s always the one to drag Nova along to something, whether it be a picnic or a sports game
Nova is incredibly grateful to have Cody ground her, but she’d never admit it
Cameron and Laura:
They work really well together to come up with ideas, Cameron puts in different ideas for stories while Laura does the research to make sure it is factually correct
If Cameron comes to Laura for yet another idea for a story, they’ll write it together
Usually Cameron does the initial draft, then Laura tries to add in more interesting words and make sure words aren’t repeated constantly
They’re the reason I do so well in English
Cameron and Cody:
They don’t get along all that well, because Cameron always wants to do dangerous things and Cody just wants to protect everyone she can
They do get along when discussing LGBTQIA+ issues though, bc that’s something that relates them to one another
That’s about it though, they don’t really talk much
Cody and Laura:
They’re THAT gay couple
Cody helps Laura learn about feelings and stuff, while Laura helps make sure Cody doesn’t believe in stupid things that definitely aren’t correct
Because of Cody, Laura has a passion about psychology, and is the reason I want to be a psychiatrist or psychologist. Them working so well together is a reason why I’m enthusiastic about school and learning, and that I’m able to function well around adults.
They’re constantly supporting each other, kisses are always exchanged between them
When baking, Cody’s always telling Laura the instructions don’t have to be followed exactly as they’re written
Which makes no fucking sense to Laura but ‘okay, you’re the chef’
Cody’s always telling Laura to watch her language
They rarely fight, but when they do, it’s INTENSE and always ends in tears
-
Uhh that was it? I hope I did that right lmao
In all honesty I don’t know who hasn’t done it yet? But I’m supposed to tag as many people as Sides I created so I hope you guys haven’t done it yet so I don’t look like even more of a fool:
@momfriendlogan, @make-it-more-gay, @fearinghope, @ace-anxiety-sanders
I feel silly for only doing this now but??? It’s still a good tag??
#my fanders sides#my fanders sides tag#personal#about me#my sides#again sorry for doing this so awkwardly late I'm sorry
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thank you to @wear-your-seatbelt for tagging me
rules: answer these thirty questions and then tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know better.
1.) nickname: Manda is what most people call me, but I’ve adopted a lot of fanders who now call me Mom (if you want to be adopted hit me up, I gotchu) and some people call me Sunshine which is the absolute SWEETEST THING
2.) gender: cis female
3.) star sign: Gemini
4.) height: 5′7″
5.) time: 8:45pm
6.) birthday: June 13th
7.) favourite bands: Idk man. I don’t really get into bands or anything, I get into specific songs but I’m bad and don’t really care who they’re by whoops
8.) favourite solo artists: see previous
9.) song stuck in my head: In The Middle - Dodie (I listened to her new EP for the first time today and it’s lovely!)
10.) Last movie watched: Ummmmmm... I think it was the new Spiderman movie but I can’t remember if I’ve watched any movies since then
11.) last show watched: Humans (Season 2 is INCREDIBLE. I strive to write such soul crushing angst)
12.) When did I create my blog: Ummm probably about a year ago? It was pretty inactive for a long time though before I joined the Thomas Sanders fandom here. Y’all are great. I love you. You make my days much more fun.
13.) What do I post: Whatever I see that makes me feel something. If it makes me smile, cry, think, whatever, I’ll probably reblog it.
14.) Last thing you googled: Barnes and Noble (I’m going to apply for a job there)
15.) do you have any other blogs: Uhhh I think I deleted it? It was just something that I reblogged nature posts on it anytime I felt anxious. Now I just go to good ol’ mister Sanders so I don’t even know if it still exists.
16.) do you get asks: On rare occasions! It’s getting more frequent though, which I LOVE. Seriously, ask me anything/just say hi/whatever. You can send me writing prompts too (prinxiety usually) it will take me a while to get to them but I like to use them when I’m struggling to write my main fics. (speaking of, I’ve only received one on here so far so if you’re reading this, anon who sent that, it’s happening. Just very slowly :D)
17.) why did you choose your username: It goes along with my YouTube channel (FangirlFiles) and all my other social media is either FangirlFiles or FangirlFiles1 depending on if the former was taken (rude people). My channel is about living life in fandoms and using them to become your best self so I liked this name. My channel is currently going through a reboot that’ll make it fit that description more :)
18.) following: 126
19.) followers: 74
20.) favourite colour/s: blue of any shade
21.) average hours of sleep: eight to ten. I’ve been struggling with fatigue due to health issues so I try to get as much sleep as I possibly can.
22.) lucky number: 13. A lot of things in my life have revolved around that number and it has always worked out well for me!
23.) instruments: Uhhhh I can kind of play the piano with a LOT of effort. I used to play the flute in band but I’ve forgotten all of it. I’m also somewhat learning to play the violin, but I struggle to teach myself.
24.) What am I wearing: a royal blue shirt with 3/4 sleeves and jeans that are way too tight but all of my others are in the wash :(
25.) how many blankets do you sleep with: 3. A sheet, electric blanket just in case, and a comforter on top! I often kick off everything and just sleep under the comforter though haha
26.) dream job: either a high school counselor or something in the field of teen suicide prevention.
27.) dream trip: Not sure honestly. I mean if it were my COMPLETE dream trip I would be friends with YouTubers across the world and I would travel to visit them, but that’s a bit too much of a dream haha
28.) favourite food: Salad. They’re just so refreshing and yummy!
29.) nationality: American
30.) favourite song right now: My Thoughts On You by The Band CAMINO (It was The Black and White by them but now this one applies more to my life so *shrug*
Thank you so much for tagging me and for reading to the end if you did! I tend to ramble haha.
I’m honestly so tired I can’t be bothered to tag anyone so if you want to do this, I tag you! Go for it! :D
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