#2.5k milestone

[sign-from-god-complex]

Summary: The two of them were friendly now—the days of hurtful nicknames and angrily putting each other down had long since passed—but even still Virgil was hesitant to open up to Roman. And it seemed as if Roman felt the same.

Pairing: Platonic prinxiety.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil wandered down the stairs, rubbing at his eyes and only catching each step with his foot on sheer luck alone. He was barely even conscious—having woken up from a nightmare not more than a few hours after he'd gone to bed—and in his vaguely uncomfortable and jittery state, Virgil had decided that maybe a snack would make him feel better and started his move down to the kitchen.

The light was already on, he noticed vaguely, but it didn't really seem important until he came to the door of the kitchen and was greeted with a sight that woke him up entirely.

"You're crying."

Roman spun around abruptly, wiping at his eyes like Virgil was earlier but in less of an I'm-tired-and-trying-to-wake-myself-up way and more of a trying-to-hide-the-consequences-of-a-3-am-mental-breakdown way. Virgil would know; he had plenty of experience with both.

"I'm not crying, Charlie Frown," Roman insisted, "Your brain is playing tricks on you. Just go back to bed."

"Low blow, blaming a man's faulty brain for something you didn't want me to see," Virgil said, dropping into the chair across from Roman and ignoring the way he let out a sigh as he averted his gaze.

The two of them were friendly now—banter was easy and they were able to discuss things without it heating up to an argument every time—but there was still a layer of hesitancy when it came to being vulnerable. It wasn't just Roman either. Virgil had more than once entirely played off his anxiety or insecurities so that he could go deal with it himself or, if it got too bad, go bother Logan or Patton with it. It was stupid because they were friends and logically, he knew there was nothing to worry about. Even still, he was afraid. And he had a feeling Roman felt the same way.

"Do you want a hot chocolate?"

Roman blinked at him. "What?"

"I said, do you want a hot chocolate?" Virgil repeated, getting up from his chair. He threw open a few of the kitchen cabinets, rifling through it to grab the chocolate. "I mean, mine are nowhere near as good as Patton's—I really don't know how he does that—but they're still okay, you know?"

He glanced back at Roman to see him staring at him blankly and raised an eyebrow, prompting Roman to clear his throat.

"Uh, I mean, if you want to."

Virgil nodded, switching on the element and grabbing out a saucepan and milk, not bothering to measure any particular amount as he poured it into the pot.

"So... you wanna tell me what's going on?" Virgil asked, keeping his back firmly to Roman.

It's what he'd want, he thinks, to know that someone's listening without the pressure of having them stare you directly in the face—like, he loves Patton, but sometimes that earnest gaze can be a bit overwhelming.

"I promise, it's nothing. I'm just a bit tired-"

"Roman."

There's a long silence and if Virgil hadn't been listening intently for any sound, he would have thought that Roman had just up and left.

Then, there was a shaky inhale from behind him, let out all at once. "I'm... overwhelmed."

Roman paused, seemingly gathering his thoughts and as he did so, Virgil grabbed a rubber spatula from the jar on the counter, stirring the milk. He wasn't actually sure if it was necessary but it was something to do with his hands that wasn't simply wringing them or biting at the nails.

"Our fans expect a lot from us, you know? And the production value keeps getting bigger and we keep coming up with these new ideas but if we don't execute them perfectly it's going to seem like it was ridiculous for us to even try. And there's deadlines and short videos to keep up with and-" He heaved out a sigh. "There's just so much to do."

"There's always so much to do," Virgil interjected, breaking the chocolate into the boiling milk, "I think that's what life is."

Roman laughed but it wasn't particularly joyful, almost more like a sob than a laugh. "Maybe. I don't know. I just... I want everything to go perfectly but I know that's impossible."

There was something in that statement, some underlying insecurity that Virgil couldn't help but pull apart. With all his years being the literal embodiment of a person’s deepest fears, he’d become fairly well versed in feelings of inadequacy and leaving them alone to fester certainly wasn’t gonna do Roman any good.

"You're right. It is impossible," Virgil replied casually, "But why exactly do you think it needs to be perfect?"

"So that people will like it! People need to like-"

"You." Virgil switched off the element, turning around to look at Roman with something soft and sad in his eyes. "Is that right? You think that if the work we produce isn't perfect, if you don't make things that people love then you can't be loved."

Roman stared wide-eyed at Virgil, lips parted ever so slightly. "I- I just-"

And with a sob, he broke off, face crumpling as he failed to hold in his tears. Virgil winced, suddenly flooded with need to shield Roman from anything that could make him look so devastated.

"Roman, come here."

He opened himself up for a hug and Roman dove forward, gripping at Virgil's hoodie and shaking in his arms as they wrapped around him.

"We love you," Virgil spoke insistently but quiet, as if were he to speak any louder something inside him would break, "We will love you the same if you never create another thing ever again or if you create something new every day for the rest of your life. You don't need to do anything to be loved. You're here. That's enough."

Roman nodded into his shoulder. "I- I know that. I do. And you all keep telling me that's it's fine but-"

"I get it. It's hard. It took me a while to accept that you all love me too, you know? But you'll get there. And we'll be happy to remind you of it any time you need."

Virgil pulled away from the hug, leaving Roman blinking at the ground with still watery eyes. He seemed... more solid, somehow—less like he would shatter if Virgil looked at him wrong—and the relief he felt at that was almost palpable.

"And, Ro?" Virgil asked, prompting Roman to drag his gaze back up to him, "Yeah, the stuff you create may not be perfect but I haven't seen a single thing you accomplished that you haven't done a pretty fucking great job of."

Roman smiled—slight but real and filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Virgil."

"Anytime, princey."

Virgil turned to grab a few mugs from the hooks under the cabinet, placing them on the counter. A quick test of the milk revealed it to be plenty warm still and with a great deal of care, Virgil poured the hot chocolate into the cups, having apparently made more than enough for just the two of them.

The silence as Virgil moved wasn't uncomfortable—much more akin to the kind of silence you expect from two people alone in the kitchen at the early hours of the morning—and Virgil was immeasurably glad for it.

Eventually, he passed one of the mugs over to Roman. He hadn’t really put much thought into which ones he’d grabbed but he noticed now that it was one of Roman’s personal ones and written on it, in curling font, read the words, “Imagine. Create. Repeat.”. Virgil tried not to find the irony in that.

"So, uh, how about we finish this hot chocolate and then we head back to bed, yeah?" Virgil asked, picking up his own mug from the counter and taking a sip.

Roman didn't react for a moment except to rotate the mug he gripped tightly in his hands, holding it up by his face so the steam still coming off it warmed his cheeks. Then, he nodded, a smile barely turning the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah. Yeah, Virge, that sounds great."

Taglist: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @autism-goblin @camcam774 @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @hold-my-hat @goodandbadisallmadeupnonsense @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples @sanders-screams @another-sandersidesblog @do-not-just-see-observe @mychemicalpanicattheemo @primaryyblogg @localtransgrape​ @fandomsofrandom​ @gattonero17​ @airiervessel​ @ollyollyoxinfree​ @tired-and-probably-crying​ .

[dimensionwriter]

Soooooooo, ummmmmmmmm

I-I don't know what to say. I don't really check my following and I don't know why I thought there was like 200 of us. And-and there's over 10 times that about.

I'm not use to doing a milestone for things. So, can you guys give me some ideas for what would you guys like me to do for the 2.5K celebration. My ask is open if you don't want to comment here.

I'm still in shock.

[iridescentxstars]

Ninibears-Erigom 2.5K Drabble Game

–> Request Here <–

So in celebration of my main blog hitting 2.5k followers, I decided to do something that I kinda half promised ages ago. Here’s the surprise:

You can choose any member from EXO or VIXX, Taemin and Sunmi. Yes, I am not only allowing requests for EXO but also a few other groups/artists. I will take a total of 15 requests and will create a list when 15 is hit so you will see what’s being written.

Below are the prompts :)

You can either choose from the prompt list below or from my actual drabble request prompts here.

If you choose from the list below, please state member and situation/genre/au (it doesn’t need all of those but some context will help):

Prompts: 1. “Please stop talking, your voice is terribly distracting.” 2. "How could you possibly think this is a good idea?” 3. “I’m the bad guy.” 4. “I won, so now I get to pick my prize” 5. “What do you want from me? 6. “Ssshh, they don’t need to know what we did tonight.” 7. “I love you.” 8. “It can be our little secret.” 9. “I don’t think it’s meant to look like that.” 10. “So, funny story...” 11. “Who’s a good boy?” 12. “Hello, how can I help you today?” 13. “You make me want to gouge my eyes out with a spoon.” 14. “Fuck.” 15. “I love babies. I also love giving them back when they cry.”

[shigarakitomura]

2.5k URL Giveaway

So in celebration of hitting this milestone, I decided to give away some of the urls that i saved but was never gonna use. 

So uhhh yeah, here’s a list of URLs that you can ask for. The rules are that you must be following me and that you must reblog this if you’d like a URL, then send me a DM with which one you want.

@snowdan 

@astronautdnp 

@philsdeadcacti

@demon-phillie

@invisiblegrayfox

@thats-our-danyul

@phil-me-in 

@dcurls-pquiff

i know its not a lot atm but there are some i dont want to give up for one reason or another, if I do this again (which i probably will) then I’ll come up with more. 

[sign-from-god-complex]

Summary: When a quiet evening alone is interrupted by one of their boyfriends, Janus has to reveal a little more than they had been in any way prepared to.

Pairing: Analoceit with briefly-mentioned, background royality.

Warnings: Panic attack, anxiety spirals relating to transphobia (no actual transphobia), mention of underage drinking.

AO3 Link

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t meant to go like this.

Janus had planned perfectly for their coming out, down to mentally scripting all the possible reactions their partners could have. They knew neither Virgil nor Logan were transphobic—after all, Virgil was trans himself—but still, they’d been nervous about going through with it.

Their boyfriends were gay. They liked men, they liked each other and yes, they liked them but they didn’t know. Really, it was only natural to be worried about the effect this could have on their relationship.

So, they’d put it off. The flinch every time Virgil referred to them as his boyfriend wasn’t picked up on and the slight frown they adopted when being told how handsome they were was taken as nothing more than insecurity and though, maybe, they were a little put out by how their boyfriends never seemed to notice, they couldn’t blame them. It was their fault for not telling them after all.

It was all their fault.

“Jan, please, open the door,” Logan said, the concern in his voice leaking in through the cracks between solid wood and drywall. Janus could barely hear it though for the rushing of blood in their ears and the heaving sounds of their breath seemed to take up all the space left in the bedroom.

They tore at their clothes, ripping several of the buttons off their blouse as they yanked it over their head, their skirt tossed to the other side of the room as if throwing it to where it was no longer in view would somehow mitigate the weight of what had already occurred.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this! They’d been careless. Their boyfriends’ schedules were predictable—Logan worked till 4:30 pm every weekday, Virgil slept in but stayed out later—and as such, they hadn’t even considered the fact that they would be caught. It was foolish to think they were ever safe, utterly foolish.

Their chest was tight, heavy, and they dropped to the floor—curled up with their legs hugged to their chest and their whole body shaking.

Logan’s voice trickled its way back into Janus’ mind, softer than they had ever heard it outside of late-night love confessions and Virgil’s panic attacks. “Jan, honey, it’s okay. You’re okay. Do you remember Virgil’s breathing exercises?”

And with a jolt, Janus realised that is what this was. A panic attack.

Their breathing hitched and they ducked their head down to press against their knees, hands gripping to each other until the knuckles turned white.

It was a fact that was more terrifying than it had any right to be. Janus was always the one to comfort their boyfriends when they were panicking, they knew all of the techniques, they knew each of their boyfriends’ preferences on touch while they were experiencing particularly heightened anxiety but right now it was all useless. The only thing looping in their head was visions of their boyfriends laughing at them, outing them to everyone, leaving them, kicking them onto the street where they’ll be alone, alone, alone, just when they had finally gotten comfortable enough to let them in.

Pulling in a stuttering breath, they tried to count, managing to hold it for around four seconds before blowing it out.

It felt almost impossible—like climbing the rough side of a rocky cliff face when your body only wants you to stay at the bottom of the ravine to die—but they knew it wasn’t. Despite the siren sounding in their mind, they knew there was no physical danger. And anything else could be dealt with later.

So, they tried again, this time slightly more successfully and with each breath, they could feel the weight of their head getting heavier, the static in their limbs fading away to almost nothing. By the time they could breathe again they were so tired, all they wanted to do was sleep for a year.

Unfortunately, their boyfriends would probably have some qualms with that notion.

There was murmuring outside and Janus knew without a doubt that Virgil had arrived, so they figured the locked door likely wouldn’t hold them back much longer. Virgil had learned to pick a lock as a teen—a skill they’d occasionally utilised to break into their parents’ liquor cabinet when they were both too young to drink—and with the level of worry Janus was sure Logan was holding, they doubt he’d have much of an issue with trying to break into their room. 

To the sound of the doorknob rattling, they clambered up from the ground, pulling on a large shirt they’d found beside them on the floor. It must have been Logan’s because it smelt like him—sort of like paper and metal but mostly just like Logan—and Janus tried not to acknowledge the way something in their chest lurched.

They approached the door with probably more hesitance than was warranted and, standing with their hand on the doorknob, they took a moment to catch their breath before turning the lock and throwing it open.

Virgil was on his knees on the ground, a hairpin held in his hand and his tongue sticking out ever so slightly as he concentrated. As the door swung open, though, his expression changed to one of shock, glancing up at Janus in a way that made them feel somewhere between adored and uncomfortable. Logan was much the same—though he wasn’t on his knees—his expression shining with relief and barely contained concern.

There was a moment of silence, punctuated with Janus clearing their throat.

“Go on then,” they said, their hands on their hips and their voice wavering much less than they had been expecting, “Say your piece.”

But instead of the anger or the betrayal Janus had been half-expecting, Logan threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around them and cradling them like they’d been missing for years, like they were something precious, like they were loved.

And Janus melted.

They let out a gasp as they felt the breath being punched out of them, hands going up to grab at the back of Logan’s coat and it was barely a moment before Virgil stood up to join them, his long arms reaching around them both like a shelter from the wind and the rain and the fear.

Far sooner than Janus would have liked, they both pulled away, leaving Janus feeling cold and somewhat lost.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said softly. His gaze was cast to the ground and Janus took the opportunity to run their gaze over his slumped shoulders and furrowed brow, vaguely feeling the urge to soothe the stress he seemed to be holding, “I should have warned you that I was coming home early but I had wanted it to be a surprise.”

Janus laughed but the sound was void of joy, seeming instead rather hollow. “Well, you certainly accomplished that.”

Visibly, Logan winced and Janus felt a stab of guilt go through them. It wasn’t Logan's fault—they knew it wasn’t Logan’s fault—and it was unfair of them to make him feel bad for something that could have been so easily avoided if only they were more careful. 

Janus was not known for being impulsive. They thought things through and they made plans and they certainly didn’t jump into things without being entirely sure of them first. The problem with that, however, was that sometimes you can’t be entirely sure.

And now, unfortunately, seemed like it was one of those times.

“I’m nonbinary. I use they/them pronouns.”

They wouldn’t say it was quite blurted but it was certainly close—their words hurried as if given the chance to think for even a moment longer would prevent them from being said. Maybe it would.

Glancing at the two of them, it was clear that they were surprised but it was eclipsed quickly by a look of understanding and though part of them was relieved—breath exhaled, shoulders dropping, loved, loved, loved—part of them could only feel that this was much too good to be true.

“Okay.” Logan nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Thank you for telling us.”

Janus narrowed their eyes. “That’s it?”

Something of a bewildered expression crossed Logan’s face and he tilted his head slightly, as if Janus were some puzzle that he had yet to figure out. In response, they folded their arms tight across their chest. That look always made them feel a little too much like an ant under a magnifying glass and while sometimes they were grateful to have so much of Logan’s attention, now it just made them feel exposed.

“What do you mean?”

They gaped at him for a moment before throwing up their arms in a gesture of incredulity. “You’re gay! You like boys-!” 

“We like you,” Logan interrupted. His voice was calm and caring in a way that sort of made Janus want to cry but they refused to show that kind of weakness right now, “In fact, we love you and learning your gender identity doesn’t change that in the slightest, at least not in my case.”

They fidgeted a bit with the hem of Logan’s shirt, feeling the absence of their usual outfit—the weighted jacket and full coverage shirt—like a missing limb. “Virgil?”

Cautiously, they glanced over to him and almost took a step back in shock at the unexpected shine of Virgil’s eyes—wet and teary and full of an unquantifiable amount of love. Janus and Virgil had been friends since they were children and, outside of panic attacks, they’d barely ever seen him cry.

“I’m so proud of you,” he murmured, making something in Janus’ chest crack open like a geode, leaving bits of rock scattered around but exposing something a lot more valuable, “Coming out is really hard and I’m really, really proud of you. And I love you. A lot.”

Janus exhaled, their breath shaky. “Oh.”

There was a moment of silence as the three of them just stood there, unsure of what to do next. Then, Virgil laughed. It was sort of wet but full of love and the others couldn’t help but echo him, feeling all the stress and the tension and the fear melting away with each second that passed. It was ridiculous, really, but Janus thought that maybe they deserved it all the same.

Virgil shook his head incredulously, his lips teasing at a smile but his eyes soft. “God, c'mere, asshole.”

Biting at their bottom lip to stop the way it was wobbling ever so slightly, they stepped forward into Virgil’s open arms, slotting in like they were made to be there.

“Pretty rude of you to call me an asshole while I’m baring my soul over here, dick,” Janus laughed into his shoulder.

They felt a kiss being pressed to the top of their head from behind, Logan worming his way in to join the hug and bringing with him a sense of completeness that made Janus exhale softly into the space between them, their eyes fluttering closed for just a moment.

It felt safe here—truly, safe—and though they are aware that it was okay to be afraid… they couldn’t help but wonder why they were ever worried.

After a long moment of soaking in the comfort their boyfriends brought them, they pulled away, gently extricating themself from the embrace. Despite the fact that they were no longer touching, nobody moved too far apart and Janus could still feel echoes of Virgil’s skin brushing against theirs and the soft exhale of Logan’s breath as if they hadn’t moved at all.

“Gods, this is far too many emotions for me,” they joked, though there was truth in the words still, “And I swear if either of you tells anyone about any of this they will not find the body.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

“Not in a million years.”

They rolled their eyes, fondness barely hidden behind a look of exasperation. Their boyfriends were so stupidly earnest sometimes, though they’d be lying if they said it wasn’t endearing.

“Saps.”

Wandering back into their room with their boyfriends trailing after them, they began to get redressed, stripping Logan’s shirt off to pull on one of their own. It wasn’t the first time they’d changed in front of their boyfriends but even still they were cautious of the way the two of them were looking at them, bumping their shoulders together every so often as small talk picked back up.

The conversation was familiar, dotted with exclamations from Virgil about how much he hates his job and overlaid with Logan’s recapping of Roman and Patton’s ridiculous pining recently, Janus occasionally butting in to affectionately berate their twin for being so oblivious. Even they’d figured out their relationship faster than that and the three of them were experts when it came to putting up emotional walls.

It felt… normal. Good, even. And bit by bit, comment by comment, word by word, Janus felt that sense of comfort creeping back in until eventually the three of them were lying on the bed, limbs tangled together and someone’s hand in Janus’ hair, unsure of where one body started and another began. 

“Thank you,” they whispered, just loud enough that they knew the others could hear them.

Logan pressed a kiss to the back of their hand, intertwining their fingers and keeping their joined hands pressed tight to his chest. “There’s no need to thank us, my darling. Our love for you was never in question. Not for a single moment.”

And to the murmuring affirmations of Virgil, twin heartbeats echoing in their ears, Janus let themself believe that.

Taglist: @mutechild​ @super-magical-wizard​ @shadowsfromthesun​ @teadays​ @sandersships​ @camcam774​ @autism-goblin​ @deadlyhuggles6​ @romanthestarstruckqueer​ @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear​ @rainboots-are-for-snobs​ @sanders-and-sides​ @spirits-in-my-thoughts​ @hold-my-hat​ @goodandbadisallmadeupnonsense​ @stop-it-anxiety​ @figurative-falsehood​ @jadedfantasies231​ @idosanderssidespromptssometimes​ @poisonedapples​ @sanders-screams​ @another-sandersidesblog​ @do-not-just-see-observe​ @mychemicalpanicattheemo​ @primaryyblogg​ @localtransgrape​ @fandomsofrandom​ @gattonero17​ @airiervessel​ @ollyollyoxinfree​ .

[sign-from-god-complex]

“You must be freezing! Here, take this.” or “I’m so proud of you” with toddler Patton and older brother Virgil pls! thank you!!! (And are we allowed to send in two? >.

“Pat!” Virgil called, racing his way out of the house with his younger brother’s puffer jacket clutched tightly in his hands.

He’d been almost in awe of how tiny that jacket was when they’d first bought it, after all, there was no way Patton was really that small, was there? Of course, when his brother had first tried the jacket on it fit almost perfectly, giving Pat just enough length in the sleeves to pull his hands inside and flap excitedly.

Toddlers were still weirdly tiny, Virgil thought, but at least Patton seemed mostly okay.

Said toddler was now jumping around in the snow, giggling and grinning as Virgil ran up to him. “Look, look, V, I made a snow ‘gel!”

Sure enough, there was a Pat sized dent in the snow on the ground beneath them and his shirt and pants were soaked through almost entirely. Virgil screwed up his face, taking in the sight of his brother’s bright grin and trying not to think of what the aftermath of this little adventure would be for their dads.

He did feel a little bit bad because Virgil said that he could watch him and that he promised nothing would happen and it was only 10 minutes, could they please play for just a bit? Though thinking back now, maybe he should have waited.

“’s really good, Pat,” Virgil said, ruffling Patton’s hair, “I’m so proud of you.” 

Patton blinked up at him, his eyes big and round and Virgil thought he looked a little bit like a doll when he did that, like his eyes were painted on instead of properly inside his head.

“D'you wanna make a snow ‘gel, V?” Patton asked, tugging at the sleeve of Virgil’s jacket and dragging him out further into the yard to where the snow was unbroken, “Come on, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, come make a snow ‘gel w'me!”

Virgil laughed at his brother’s enthusiasm, unable to keep the smile off his face.

“I would totally make a snow angel with you but… well…”

“What?” Patton’s pout was well on its way to tears but Virgil wasn’t worried, just twisting up his face in an expression of fake reluctance.

“Mmmm, I’m not supposed to tell you.”

“Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!” Patton chanted, jumping up and down in place.

“Okay, okay!” Virgil leant down so he was whispering into Patton’s ear, draping the coat around him as he did so, “Papa bought secret cookies he’s trying to hide from Daddy but he promised that if we’re good he’s gonna give us some.”

Patton gasped and Virgil stifled a giggle in response. “Really?!”

“Yeah!”

That seemed like enough to have Patton excited, jumping around in a circle echoing “cookie” over and over again. Thankfully, he’d gripped onto the coat and kept it wrapped around him, so even though he was still wet he was being protected from the cold a little bit.

“You wanna go inside and see if we can convince Papa to give us one now?” Virgil asked, interrupting Patton’s bouncing. 

If it was possible, Patton lit up even more at that, grabbing ahold of Virgil’s gloved hand and dragging him towards the door, completely unknowing and uncaring that this had been Virgil’s plan all along.

(taglist under cut)

Taglist: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @camcam774 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @hold-my-hat @goodandbadisallmadeupnonsense @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples @sanders-screams @another-sandersidesblog @do-not-just-see-observe @mychemicalpanicattheemo @primaryyblogg @localtransgrape @fandomsofrandom @gattonero17 @airiervessel @ollyollyoxinfree .

[sign-from-god-complex]

Summary: From the moment they first saw Patton light up—full-on laughing through joking protests and playfully hitting Roman on the arm—Remy felt like a little piece of their heart had been stolen, tucked away inside Patton's chest alongside his own. Now, though, with Patton looking at them like that in the low lights of the dance hall, Remy felt like maybe he‘d just taken the whole thing.

And, honestly? They weren't sure that they minded.

Pairing: Sleepality

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Contrary to popular belief, it had actually taken more than a few weeks—and more than a bit of needling from Virgil—for Remy to finally work up the courage to ask Patton to prom.

Sure, they were known for being a teasing flirt with an eye on every boy in the year but it was different with Patton. Patton made them trip over their feet and choke on their words and lose themself in the warm, fluttering feeling inside their stomach whenever they saw him smile.

He made them soft. And they adored every single second of it.

And, also contrary to popular belief, Patton seemingly hadn’t thought on it for even a second before accepting Remy’s proposal.

They were an odd couple, people said—the bubbly cheer captain and the slacker who spent half of their classes napping—but then Remy had never been very worried about what other people thought of them.

"You're stunning."

Patton just giggled like they were only flattering him and not like they were stating an entirely unavoidable truth.

Patton was gorgeous. Patton was always gorgeous but right now, with his long hair up, curls framing his face, the pastel jumpsuit he had on swishing back and forth with each step he took closer to them, Remy had the intense urge to wrap their arms around him and kiss him right then and there, in front of God and everybody. They did refrain, though, if only for feeling that Patton wasn't quite ready for that.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Patton teased but the look in his eye hinted at the words being more sincere than they seemed.

Giving in to the blush quickly overtaking their face, they bowed and extended a hand, jokingly imitating one of the princes in those period dramas Roman loved so much. "Shall we?"

"We shall," Patton replied, a teasing smile on his lips and his eyes soft and shining.

The dance floor was quiet as it was still fairly early in the evening but neither of them were all that self-conscious so they took to it anyway. The music led them up and down throughout the night, from dumb pop songs they used to listen to as preteens that had them sing-yelling the lyrics at each other to songs they'd never heard before, making Remy twirl Patton again and again until he was dizzy and laughing.

They barely even stopped for drinks, only taking a few moments out to down a cup of water before getting right back out there again. They were having far too much fun and the added bonus of getting to stay so close to each other definitely didn't hurt.

Eventually, though, the music slowed, the lights changing as the evening started to come to an end. Remy wrapped their arms around Patton's waist, letting Patton drape his own around their neck and they ended up so pressed together Remy could practically feel his heartbeat like it was their own. They almost wanted to make a joke about leaving room for Jesus but the idea of Patton pulling away even a little was so abhorrent they didn't want to risk it.

For a moment, there was just silence. It was a comfortable silence, the kind that felt considering and thoughtful rather than awkward.

Patton's head was leaning on Remy's shoulder, they could feel the ghosts of his breath hot against their neck and they felt no need to change a single thing about this moment. It was warm and it was safe and it was kind—much, Remy supposed, like Patton himself.

"Remy," Patton mumbled into their shoulder before bringing his head up to look at them, "I really want you to kiss me."

Remy reeled back some though they didn't let go of Patton's waist, blinking wide eyes at him from behind their glasses.

It wasn’t as if they didn’t want to—they weren’t sure they could remember a time when they hadn’t daydreamed about kissing Patton—but it was more a realisation that maybe those feelings were returned, like maybe when their eyes locked from across the room and they smiled at each other Remy’s heart wasn’t the only one that skipped a beat.

At their clearly shocked expression, Patton began to backtrack. "I mean, there's no pressure! You don't have to if you aren't ready or-"

"No!" Remy interrupted quickly, almost breathless, "I just-! Uhhh... yeah."

And with that verbal display of brilliance, Remy quickly leant forward, cupping Patton's cheek in their hand and pressing their lips together.

It was... different—so much more than all the drunken and meaningless kisses Remy had shared before. This felt like sunshine and laughter, like quiet nights curled up by the fireplace and hands stroking through hair. This felt like inevitability and longing and adoration all wrapped into one, like the very beginning of a romance Remy couldn't wait to explore.

This felt like Patton.

They pulled away though it took a moment for the world to bleed back into their consciousness—for their head and heart to stop yelling Patton's name on loop and their eyes to flicker open.

"Woah."

Patton’s voice was soft and awed, his face flushed and wet lips parted. There was a second where he was seemingly still getting over the shock but when he finally did those lips stretched into a smile as wide as the sun and just as bright, sucking all the air out of Remy's chest and leaving them gasping.

From the moment they first saw Patton light up—full-on laughing through joking protests and playfully hitting Roman on the arm—Remy felt like a little piece of their heart had been stolen, tucked away inside Patton's chest alongside his own. Now, though, with Patton looking at them like that in the low lights of the dance hall, Remy felt like maybe he‘d just taken the whole thing.

And, honestly? They weren't sure that they minded.

"Go out with me?" Remy blurted; Patton just looked confused for a moment but Remy didn’t give him a chance to speak before they began to babble. "I get that prom is sort of... already going out but I mean, like, outside of this—outside of this one night. I want to take you out for ice cream or to a museum or something 'cause honestly, babes, I kinda need to see you smile like that at me for the rest of my life-"

Abruptly, Patton surged forward, kissing the rest of Remy's lovestruck ramblings right out of their mouth. Remy softened instantly, letting all the tension in their body dissipate and they realised—as if it was no longer possible to not realise—that this was exactly the kind of forever they wanted to have.

"I'd love to," Patton breathed against their lips as he pulled away.

He didn’t pull away far, just enough to break the kiss, their foreheads resting against each other like they were a cheesy couple in a romance movie. In response, Remy laughed, kissing Patton again and again and again and again with a grin completely uncharacteristic of them but that they were entirely unable to hold back.

So yes, maybe they were an odd couple but god, Remy was in love. And they couldn't care less what anyone else thought.

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By the way...

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