hello!!! I LOVE your style!! I was wondering if I could I pls pls pls request the lowest-effort sketch imaginable of more stimmy Logan,,,👉👈 my little neurodivergent heart is so full 💙🥺
Aaaaa this ask made me sooo happy when i saw it thank you so muchh im so sorry this took so long ive been busy with school and home oof :’)
Anyway ta da :D i used to draw stimmy logan all the time so this was a nice thing to go back to :))))
day 7 of logince week finally!! I was inspired by a lil chat in the tss big bang discord server to finally write the last part of this, and ngl I'm very glad i did!
anyway, enjoy! (the prompt for this was 'importance' btw)
“I Love You!”
Roman stared at the big bubble letters in front of him and cringed.
Logan was coming home from school for winter break tomorrow, and after not seeing his boyfriend for- well, a long time, Roman wanted to do something special to show his appreciation.
They had both been extremely busy, Roman with his new acting job and Logan with graduate school, that they barely had the time to call each other once a week.
But now that they had the perfect opportunity for a wonderful date, or simply time spent as close to each other as possible, Roman stared at the project in front of him and cringed.
To be fair, his options were quite limited. Earlier that week, when he and Logan had been discussing plans over the phone, his boyfriend had expressed more interest in doing something together, at home. There was nothing wrong with their normal dates, out in public, going on hikes, visiting museums, what have you. But, the semester had taken a lot out of him, and it would be too overwhelming to have an outing like that the day after he finished exams.
So, to avoid any shutdowns, and to make the day as fun as it possibly could for both of them, Roman needed to come up with a different idea, something more private than the original plans he’d scoped out in his head weeks before asking his boyfriend about them.
No big deal, right?
He groaned dramatically, falling back to the floor so he wouldn’t have to look at the godforsaken banner anymore. He was already getting sick of his trash brain trying to convince him his idea wasn’t good enough, and he had only been working for about an hour or so.
It was intensely frustrating, to say the very least.
But off course, it was the perfect time for someone to knock on his door.
“It’s unlocked,” he called out, still lying supine as Gram made her way into his room and glanced over his abandoned project, laid out haphazardly across his bed.
“Looking good,” she noted with a sympathetic smile, “don’t you agree?”
Roman grunted, leaning up on his elbows. “Sure, absolutely, that’s why I’m throwing a perfectly mature and becoming tantrum on the floor.”
“It doesn’t quite look like a tantrum, I’ve seen your tantrums. No, this is… more like giving up, which is very unlike you,” she continued as she moved slowly to sit cross-legged near Roman’s feet.
“...I suppose you have a point. Either way, I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. I don’t have a plan anymore, the thing I started was garbage, so what’s even the point anyway?
“Well, first of all,” Gram started, “You love him. And in case it has escaped your notice, he loves you back. Regardless of what you decide to do with your time, he’s going to have fun, and he’s not going to stop loving you if it isn’t absolutely perfect.”
Roman rolled his eyes. Just because she was right didn’t mean she had to rub it in, or anything.
“Second, Logan has never actively disliked any dates you have put together. Remember back in July when you took him out for a picnic and it poured as soon as you sat down? The only complaints I heard that afternoon were from you. Logan was much more interested in the fact you had a white shirt on.”
Roman choked, blustering around the burning in his cheeks. “I- c’mon, Gram!”
“Third,” she continued despite the halfhearted protest, “you are about to see your partner in person for the first time in- what is it, four months? So, no matter what you do, it’s going to be special for both of you. No matter what I say, you’re going to stress about this whole thing, but I’m telling you, you don’t have to. That boy is just as cheesy as you are.”
“I swear, you can read minds,” Roman grumbled, but as she spoke he had crawled over to lay his head in her lap, so the effect was pretty much completely lost.
Gram chucked, ruffling his hair. “Pretty much, yes. Now, are you going to get off the floor and get back to work? You’ve only got about… maybe eighteen hours before Logan is supposed to arrive? Better make the most of them!”
Roman pouted as the teasing continued, but after a little bit more time spent laying in her lap, relaxing as she wove her fingers through his kinky hair, he sat up, finding the motivation to keep working, for Logan.
“Alright, alright, before you get completely focused, help an old woman up? It has been a long time since my sitting on the floor days.”
Roman chuckled but knelt down obligingly, supporting her back and holding her opposite hand as they stood. “Nah, you’re not old. Ancient though, that’s a much better descriptor.”
Gram whacked him on the arm, but she was smiling just as cheekily as he was. “I swear, the only thing I ever managed to get you to remember was my snarkiness. Never the important lessons, always the teasing.”
Roman chuckled fondly as she grumbled jokingly to herself, shutting the door quietly behind her. He took a beat to appreciate just how much he loved his family, and he was back to work, pacing and muttering to himself about the logistics of streamer placement.
…
The next morning, Roman woke two hours before his alarm was set to go off. That wasn’t particularly odd, as that sometimes happened when he was overly excited, but today, that wasn’t the case.
Someone was calling him. He groped blindly at his bedside table and fumbled his cell phone up to his ear.
“I swear to god, it’s too early to read. This better not be one of my brothers,” he yawned, rubbing at his eyes as he complained.
“Uh… n-not quite,” the person on the other end stammered, and Roman was surprised to find he didn’t immediately recognize their voice.
“I- sorry, do I know who this is? I could just be too tired to process any words, that is a very strong possibility.”
The person on the other end chuckled slightly. “I think we’ve met? I’m- this is Virgil, Logan’s roommate. I dunno, I just clicked the first contact that popped up, I promise I’m not snooping through his phone or anything stalker-y like that. I just didn’t know what-”
“Hey,” Roman interrupted softly, finally moving to sit, “it’s fine. Logan trusts you, so I have no reason not to. Er, anyway, what’s up? Is he in shutdown or something?”
“Kind of?” Virgil hesitated. “I… I mean, I know what it’s like when he shuts down. I’ve kinda… helped him with it before, but this isn’t… I don’t know what’s wrong.
“The… midterm exams and stuff, kinda took a lot out of- everyone? So, he came back last night and was totally out of it, and he immediately went to bed, which like- that’s college for ya, and I expected it, and like, same. But then… I tried checking in with him this morning and he’s… it doesn’t look like he’s moved all night but he’s not asleep and just kinda- staring at the wall, and I can’t… he won’t snap out of it? I guess? It’s… not good, whatever he had going on.”
Roman had stood up and begun to pace as Virgil spoke, but by the time he finished explaining, he stood motionless in the middle of the room. He let out a small sigh.
“Okay. That’s… yeah, that’s pretty bad. Uh… okay. I guess I should clarify, I’m his boyfriend, and I live less than an hour away. I can… it shouldn’t be a problem to pick him up but… I don’t wanna leave him like- that for so long. I guess… I can try talking to him over the phone? It’s something, I guess.”
“Uh, yeah… okay. You’re on speaker now,” Virgil announced, shuffling around on the other end. Roman didn’t start talking until the movement stopped.
“Hey, Logan? Can you hear me, sweetheart? I heard you’re having a hard time right now, and I wanna help. Can you tell me what’s wrong, or tap it out? Virgil’s here for you too, baby, we just wanna help you feel safe.”
There was silence on the other end for a minute or two before someone huffed, and Roman heard more shuffling.
“I… I don’t even think he blinked.”
Roman let out a heaving sigh. “Okay, okay, that’s… shit, okay. We’ll… I’ll head out in just a minute. I gotta, get some stuff together- is his stuff packed? Can you tell?”
Virgil huffed what could vaguely be considered a laugh, and Roman frowned. “I- sorry, yes. He’s packed. He said… he told me, something in his- that formal way he talks, but- he had to be ready, he couldn’t let his- exhaustion and shit get in the way of ‘going home.’ So he packed, like, way early. Before midterms even started, I think.”
Roman allowed himself a brief, sappy smile before rushing downstairs to put his shoes on. “Tha’s- yeah, that’s good. Okay… I’m gonna leave in just a few minutes. When do you have to head home? Can you… will you be there, until I get there?”
“Oh, yeah, definitely. A: I’m not leaving him alone like this, and B: I drive myself home. I can leave whenever, but we have to be out of here by… noon, or something. I dunno, I still need to pack the stuff I need to take back with me, and that’ll take me way more than an hour. Just- you can text Logan’s phone when you get here, and I’ll let you in.”
“I- good, thanks. And… I appreciate you, looking out for him. Someone has to do it when I’m not there. I’m glad… y’know, that he’s got you. You seem… nice.”
“Glowing praise,” Virgil snarked, seeming to regret it instantly as the line went dead silent right after. “Er, I mean, yeah, that’s kinda the bare minimum. And it’s… the- looking out for, each other, it’s mutual, definitely. But… thanks.”
“Of course,” Roman replied easily. “See you in an hour.”
“See ya.” The line clicked silent, and Roman just barely crumpled. Before he was able to rush out the door, he needed to make another call.
“Hey, Remus? I have a favor to cash in. Like… right now?”
…
The twins rode together in dead silence. Remus had been more than willing to jump straight out of bed and drive with his brother out to Logan’s apartment. With him there, they wouldn’t have to abandon Logan’s car, seeing as the aforementioned sleep-deprived student should not be doing so himself.
Roman still didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he figured if Logan had been that out of it this morning, he probably didn’t sleep. And whatever it was that was keeping him up, it was something serious.
He was, perhaps, being a bit irresponsible with his driving, but he saved them about ten minutes with his speeding. And he didn’t get caught in the act, so there wasn’t any point in being a narc, now was there?
But of course, he parked in the wrong lot and wasted ten minutes getting back to the right one because despite going there for four years, the campus was still as complicated and frustrating to navigate as it had been when he first started.
When he’d first met Logan…
He snapped himself out of that tangent, leading his brother along to where Virgil was waiting for them, fidgeting with his hoodie sleeve in one hand and waving them over with the other.
“Uh, hey. Didn’t realize there were two of you,” he joked awkwardly. “...Anyway, uh- follow me, I guess.”
Virgil led them up a set of stairs and down the hall to their room. Roman had visited once before, but he couldn’t have picked out the floor Logan was living on, much less the room, and especially in a time crunch- yeah, he was really glad Virgil was around.
Sure enough, when he unlocked the door and brought the twins inside, there was Logan, lying curled up in a tight ball on his side and staring at nothing.
It was… concerning, to say the least.
Remus talked with Virgil for a bit, the latter filling him in on what he and Roman had discussed over the phone, and the two agreed to give them some space by starting the process of loading up Virgil’s and Logan’s car with their suitcases.
That left Roman, sitting slowly on the floor by Logan’s bed and resting his chin on the mattress. Logan continued to stare past him.
“Hey, honey,” he called gently, reaching up to weave a hand through Logan’s hair. “Where’d you go? Hm? Hiding from me, on our anniversary? Kinda rude, but I suppose I’ll live. How ‘bout you come back? We can talk all you want about it, or none at all if that makes you feel better.”
Logan didn’t quite stir, but it looked less like his eyes were glazed over and more like he was staring at Roman’s forehead. That was something, at least.
“Um, let’s see. I’m sure we have some of your cubes around if you need to focus on something else for a bit. Whatever’s got you trapped in there-” Roman ever-so-gently rapped a knuckle on Logan’s temple, making his eyes blink closed- “doesn’t look like much fun. Or, I could squish ya.”
Logan’s eyes flashed open at that, and he flicked his gaze down to Roman’s left shoulder.
‘Yes.’
“Okay, yes to the squish, it is!” He cheered softly, shifting off the floor with a small grunt and maneuvering himself to lay right next to Logan.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he joked under his breath. “Okay, baby. Gonna need to- shift us around a little bit. Do you think you can unwind for me? I can’t properly squish a Logan ball.”
Logan frowned, but with a little bit of help from his boyfriend, he was able to relax enough to lay flat on his back, pressed comfortably into the mattress under him by Roman’s full body weight.
“That better?” Roman was relieved to see him nod slowly, closing his eyes and leaning back into his pillow.
He wasn’t sure how long they lay like that. Every so often, Remus and Virgil would pop back in for the rest of their bags or to check on them, but after a while, they took a break to get lunch together.
“So,” Roman started, wincing as his voice cracked slightly, the sudden break in silence apparently startling his vocal cords, “do you want to talk about it? Or, sign about it, I suppose. Are you verbal right now?”
Logan huffed, shifting to free his hands. 'Semi-verbal, but yes. I should, quote-unquote ‘sign’ about it, if I can find the right words.'
Roman nodded, allowing him to take whatever time he needed to figure out his thoughts. He hummed under his breath, watching as Logan relaxed slightly, tapping along the side of his arm to the beat.
“Yesterday, I was on my way… here after my final midterm, and I ran into- someone. Another graduate student I have met in passing, but… mm.”
‘He made an unfortunately timed joke,’ he signed, ‘about my supposed interest in winter courses, something I have, admittedly done in the past, but..’ His movements paused, and he huffed again.
‘The way he phrased it, I just… it made me think of Dad.’
Roman blinked in surprise. Logan never talked about his dad, not even to Gram. Roman had asked, way back when they first met, what his family was like, and Logan had talked about his mother and grandad. Even after years of being friends, and then boyfriends, any questions about his biological dad were dismissed, fast enough that Roman didn’t even question the dismissal.
So, this was probably pretty bad.
“I… do not remember much, from when he was still alive,” Logan continued. “But, most of the… active cruelty, was on his part.”
“My…” he hummed, shifting his hands from where they previously gripped Roman’s shirt. ‘My mother and her father continued the behavior, the encouragement of toxic work ethic and rejection of the accommodations I needed to not shut down. But he started it. I just didn’t realize how harmful it was at the time. Not until years after he died.’
“Oh, darling,” Roman cooed, leaning closer to Logan to press a feather-light kiss to his forehead. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you know by now how awful and unnecessary that behavior is, but being reminded of it right before your first chance to take a break? I can’t imagine… I’m so sorry, beloved.”
Logan didn’t have much else to say, after that. He squished his forehead into Roman’s shoulder and they cuddled for a while longer. He didn’t cry, surprisingly enough. Roman wasn’t quite sure why he expected him to, but his partner didn’t seem any less appreciative of the affection regardless of the lack of emotional release.
Instead, a few minutes later, he sighed happily into Roman’s ear, finding enough of his voice to whisper. “I love you.”
Roman thought back to the banner, how his stress from yesterday about the perfect date seemed so inconsequential when he had Logan in his arms. He thought about how all he wanted to do now was hold his partner for the rest of the day and support him through all the troubles he never should have dealt with in the first place.
[ID: The "I throw in sugar. Oh my god that's salt, I'm an idiot" meme. It is edited so that the chef is labeled Thomas Sanders and is adding salt to Logan Sanders. The text is edited to read "I throw in nerdy character traits. Oh my god. That's autism. I'm an idiot." /End ID]
Autistic!Logan where Logan and Virgil bond over their shared traits :) !!
I mean the traits that often overlap between heightened anxiety and autism (anxiety, stims, sensory issues, etc).
Maybe after particularly stressful days, Logan retreats to his room and writes. He just,, keeps writing until he mentally tires himself out. Often times, this will cause his wrists to ache. He'll write anything; he'll write down his favourite words, he'll write script material, he'll journal, etc, just to feel the pen against paper.
Maybe Virgil goes to Logan's room, to ask him about something and see Logan writing, non-responsive to his name. His hand is writing at incredible speeds, not taking a break between pages as he mumbles incoherently to himself.
And maybe Virgil places his fidget cube on the paper, so Logan would notice it's presence.
Or Virgil wearing sunglasses one day and Roman makes a silly comment about it. Roman and Patton, being them, are too loud and Logan notices.
Maybe he takes them aside and talks to them about their volume, or takes Virgil to a quieter room (a soundproof/comfort room in the mindscape??) and just sits with him (or doesn't, if his breathing is too loud for Virgil).
I just,, Virgil and Logan talking about their experiences and sharing their tactics to help each other.
Requests: Analogince where they’re human and also single dads? And they all meet because their kids fought and got called to the principals office
Virgil's POV
Upsides to being a single father to a child with ADHD: you got to raise a beautiful, special boy with a sharp mind. You got to teach him all the coping mechanisms you'd painstakingly learned over the years to cope with his condition and watch as he lit up over the things that brought him joy. You got to watch as he zipped from topic to topic, brighter than the sun, mind racing at a million miles an hour. You got to be the first person to hear about his beautifully creative ideas. You got to have a reason for living, all yours and wonderful, that you didn't have to share with anyone else.
Downsides to being a single father to a child with ADHD: you had no one else to pass the buck to when he got in trouble at school.
"It'll be fine," I chanted to myself for the billionth time as I turned off the ignition and unbuckled myself, gripping the steering wheel and forcing deep, measured breaths. "It'll be fine. He probably won't get expelled for this. This is his first fight and you don't even know why he got into a fight. You didn't raise a bully, so he was probably defending himself or another kid." Terror clasped me around the throat and squeezed. "But what if you did raise a bully and you didn't realize it, and now you've sentenced your son to a life of crime trying to make up for the hole in his heart where his father should have loved him oh God I broke my son!"
Immediately, my therapist's voice spoke up in my mind. You're catastrophizing again, he said in that obnoxiously aware, gentle way of his. Calm down. Take it one step at a time.
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, focusing on the feeling of my stomach and then my chest expanding with air. I let it out through pursed lips, a quiet whistle in the exhale.
I'd played through scenarios like this a million times in my mind. The second Cassie told me, five months pregnant with tears streaming down her cheeks, that she didn't want the baby, I'd prepared myself for any possibility. I'd created contingency plans and contingency plans for my contingency plans, because I knew how much harsher the world would be on him. With a grandparent, his biological mother, and me all with ADHD, there hadn't been any doubt Drew would get it, too, and I'd prepared for that. I'd prepared for the possibility that poor grades and emotional dysregulation would put him on the back foot and even get him expelled. I'd taught him all the coping mechanisms I could. I'd tried to show him as much love and patience as I could muster, and I'd show him the same now. We'd get through this. We would make it through this.
I nodded, resolute, even as doubt and worry niggled at the back of my mind. I'd raised Drew alone, without any support from my parents or Cassie, working a call center job that barely paid enough to live off of. I'd demanded a child psychiatrist the second Drew started displaying symptoms and beat the system for the help he deserved. I'd beat the system for the help I deserved. I was a badass. I was a badass.
I got out of the car.
The two people at the front desk--a woman with strawberry blonde hair and a baby-faced guy--looked over, presumably torn from their conversation, when I walked through the door. The woman swiveled her chair to face me with a friendly smile. "Hello there," she said. "How may I help you?"
I forced myself to look her in the eyes and strained through a smile. If you act like a weirdo, it'll just make things worse for Drew. "Hey," I said. "I'm, uh...Drew Griffith's father. You called me and--"
"Oh!" She gestured to the side, at a door that read: PRINCIPAL MOROZOV. "He's in there."
I looked over and gulped, staring in fear at the door. "Say, uh..." I smiled at the woman as politely as I could. "You wouldn't happen to know the correct social etiquette for talking to the principal after your son gets into a fight at school, would you?"
She gave me a funny look. "Huh?"
"Never mind." I hung my head in defeat and commenced the walk of dread to the front door of the office. The wall facing me was all glass, which meant I could see inside. Two adults, one natural-haired in a polo shirt with his arm around one of the kids in the chair beside him and the other behind a desk, looking stern. I couldn't see the other two kids or any other adults.
And then Principal Morozov spotted me through the glass and shit, I was out of time.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. "Sorry it took me so long," I said, hoping that was the right thing to say. "It was hard getting off work."
"It's all right," Principal Morozov said. "We haven't even reached Mr. Accardo yet."
"Hey, Dad," came the halfhearted voice of Drew, hidden behind a chair too big for him, especially when he slumped in it like that.
I peered over the top and smiled at him softly. "What the heck, kid?" I asked.
"He called Patton a freak." Drew pointed at the kid in the middle, with a busted nose and--oh God.
He had scattered burn marks across the right side of his face, with two differently-colored eyes and a scowl.
"So of course you had to beat me up," the kid sneers. "Because that's a perfectly rational, healthy thing to do."
The third kid--Patton, I presumed--bounced in his seat, humming in distress. His father, a man wearing glasses and a polo shirt with a tie, rubbed his back.
"I don't see why my son has to be here," the other father said, looking at Principal Morozov. "He didn't do anything."
“Patton sits alone at lunch time and doesn’t have any friends,” the principal said. “We think if he tried to get along with his peers better, he’d have a happier time here.”
“Or, you know, you could make an effort to teach your students not to bully kids who are different from them,” I grumbled.
“What was that, Mr. Griffiths?”
I hesitated, glancing up at Principal Morozov, then back at Drew. On one hand, I wanted to lead by example: teach Drew that it was okay to stand up to authority for what he believed. On the other, sometimes, you had to pay lip-service to authority just to stay out of trouble. It was a lesson no child had the mental capacities to understand, but I supposed I’d have to do my best to teach him, because if I gave Principal Morozov cheek, he might expel Drew.
“Nothing, sir,” I said, feeling like a child cowering beneath the glare of my teachers again. I prepared to search for the bullshit in the story I was about to get fed and asked, “What happens now?”
"I'd prefer to wait for Mr. Accardo," the principal said.
"Roman teaches at a high school," the bully grumbled, slouched over with a glare fixated on the desk. "He's probably in the middle of class."
"Then you're going to have to stay after school to address this," Principal Morozov told him sternly.
"Whatever."
I had a very bad feeling about that kid. The scars on his face told a frightening story. He could just as easily be bullied for those as Drew got bullied for his ADHD and Patton for being a loner, which probably meant he turned that abuse outward and attacked others for their perceived differences in a never-ending cycle of abuse.
What? I could be bad at people and have a special interest in human psychology. Those two things were not mutually exclusive.
Suddenly, the door banged open. I jumped out of my skin, clamping a hand over my chest and struggling to breathe levelly, eyes crushed shut and body frozen. Then I heard the babbling.
"I'm sorry!" The principal's door opened. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. The kids were in the middle of rehearsal and--Janus, what happened? I'm so sorry, Mr. Morozov." A frazzled man with warm skin rushed inside and sat down next to the bully--Janus--hastily hugging him and turning his attention to the principal.
I frowned at the scene. I withheld judgment and looked at Principal Morozov as he said, "All right. Now that you're all here, there are going to be some serious consequences to what happened today."
********
"I can't believe you let him give me detention!" Drew whined. "Janus deserved to get punched!"
"And you deserve to die abandoned and unloved in a ditch, steeping in your own feces," Janus snapped.
"Janus," his father, Roman, said firmly, kneeling down and taking him by the shoulders. Janus tried to turn away from him, but Roman lightly shook him and made him meet his eyes. He softened. "I know how much you're hurting, but a hero never redirects his pain onto others. There are other ways."
"What if I don't want to be a hero?" Janus snapped. "What if I want to be the bad guy?"
"I don't believe that," Roman said gently, adjusting his bangs. "I don't think you do, either."
Janus turned from him sharply, crossing his arms and glaring at the asphalt. He sniffled.
Drew glanced up at me in confusion and I rubbed his back. "Sometimes," I said gently, "when people are hurting, they deal with that by hurting other people."
"That's stupid," Drew said with the blunt confidence of a ten-year-old.
"Maybe a little," I agreed, "but humans aren't always logical." Drew wrinkled his nose. "I know. It's so annoying, but it's true. You're not always logical, either. Remember when you burst out crying because your pencil broke?"
"Dad!" Drew turned bright red.
Roman chuckled. "So." He stood up and crossed his arms. "You're the little rascal who dared challenge Janus to a duel for--Patton, right?" He looked at Mr. Davis--or Logan, as he'd introduced himself--who nodded. "You're the rascal who challenged Janus to a duel for Patton's honor," Roman finished.
"He was being an asshole," Drew protested.
"I'd say it's not my fault he uses that language," I said through a wince, "but it's definitely my fault he uses that language."
"I'm the same way with Janus, don't worry." Roman chuckled--a low, rumbly sound. He turned back to Drew. "You're got a paladin's heart and a temper. I was a lot like you when I was a kid."
Drew snorted. "You think you're cute, don't you?"
"He's always like this," Janus said, shoving in front of Roman. "He thinks it's so inspiring to talk about heroes all the time, like fairy tales are the best thing ever."
"That's gotta be annoying," Drew said, wrinkling his nose.
"It is." Janus stopped and scowled. "Don't relate to me!"
"Ew! You're a jerk! Get away from me!"
I exchanged a fond, exasperated look with Roman, who chuckled and squeezed Janus' shoulder. "Hey," he said, "maybe, if you apologized, you could have a friend."
"I don't want to apologize."
"So you'd rather another kid think you're a horrible person!"
Janus hesitated a moment before straightened his back. "Yes."
"I don't believe that."
I glanced over at Logan and saw that he was busy talking to Patton, kneeling on the ground and smoothing his hands over his shoulders in measured strokes. It seemed to soothe Patton. I looked at Drew.
"You know how it sometimes hurts you when you think about your Aunt Cassie?" I said softly, pulling him into my side as the shadow washed over his face.
"He called Patton a freak, Dad," Drew argued. "He's not even really my friend, but he's not a freak. He's just...different. Like me."
"I know, kiddo," I said, squeezing him against my side. "You don't have to give him a chance. He hasn't asked forgiveness, and you wouldn't owe him one even if you did. I just know you don't like to see people struggling alone."
Drew hesitated.
I looked over at Logan. "How's Patton?"
Logan glanced back at me, then looked at Patton. "Do you want to answer?"
Patton hesitated.
"It's okay," I said, not looking at his face. Patton hadn't made eye contact with a single person, including his father, since I'd met him. He clearly had more trouble with it than I did, and I wasn't always a huge fan. "I'm autistic, too."
Patton immediately perked up. "Really?"
"Yeah." I smiled, looking over the top of his head. I looked at Drew. "Can I tell him about you?"
"I'm ADHD," Drew told him, turning to him. "I got diagnosed last year."
"Oh cool!" Patton flapped his hands at his sides and bounced eagerly. "I don't, I don't think, because I'm actually pretty good at focusing most of the time and I have a really good memory, but Dad says autism and ADHD are really close together. It's really nice to meet someone else! I don't have many friends."
"Well, I guess you have me," Drew said. "I didn't get in trouble defending you for nothing."
Patton squealed and continued stimming enthusiastically. Drew offered a hug, which Patton considered for a long moment before accepting.
Logan smiled softly at the exchange and looked over to me. "You've raised a very kind son."
"More than half of it is all him," I said. "I do the best I can, but...I'm just one person. He's probably gonna hate me once he's a teenager."
"Nuh-uh!" Drew objected, charging over to embrace me around the middle. I smiled and hugged him close, squeezing him as tight as was safe. He grunted.
I caught Janus staring at us. I couldn't read his expression. He was glaring, but I had a feeling it wasn't anger. But clearly, Roman did understand it, because he knelt down and hugged him close, even when he tried to push him away. He just held fast. I thought for sure Janus would react badly--he hadn't wanted to be held, what was wrong with Roman?--but then he slowly relaxed and leaned against him. I still couldn't read him very well, but that...didn't look particularly resigned.
"You know," Roman said, pulling back after a long while, "I bet Drew and Patton would be willing to forgive you if you really, really earnestly apologized."
Janus shoved away from him, crossing his arms and glaring at the ground. "I don't want to apologize."
Roman sighed heavily, and Drew whirled on him. "You're such a freaking jerk!" he screamed. "What's wrong with you? Why do you have to be a jerk to everyone? I tried to be your friend and you just spit on me!"
"I don't want your pity!"
"It wasn't pity!"
"It's always pity!" Janus screeched. "You think I don't know what these scars make me? You think I don't know I'm a freak? If the fire didn't teach me that, then my parents sure did! I'm nothing! The only reason anyone would be nice to me is pity and I don't want anyone's pity! I just want to be left alone!"
Janus turned and ran. Roman chased after him frantically, never sparing Logan or I a glance.
Drew and Patton stood stunned. Drew looked at Patton, who stared at his forehead. "Well..." he said. "What the heck am I supposed to do now?"
Patton ran in the direction of Janus.
At that point, about the only thing for Drew and I to do was chase after his new friend, hot on the heels of his father.
We found Patton with his backpack unzipped, standing beside Janus' car door, already buckled in with Roman partway into the driver's seat, holding out a picture of a flower.
"It's ivy," Patton said. "It means friendship."
Janus stared at him through the window, unmoving. Patton, to my shock, held his gaze for one, two moments and then averted his eyes. Logan hurried over to hold him, clearly expecting Janus to reject him again.
Janus opened the car door. "Why would you want to be my friend?"
"He didn't say he wanted to be your friend," Drew sneered. "He just said it meant friendship, dummy."
"Drew," I chided softly, and he recoiled into my side.
"Because it's nice to know I'm not the only one who can't make any friends," Patton said. "I like having other friends who are special."
"I'm not special," Janus snapped.
"Dad says that being different is always special, because different people have discovered some of the coolest, prettiest things ever."
"It's true," Logan said. "Albert Einstein, Hans Christian Anderson, and Michelangelo. were all autistic."
"See?" Patton bounced and beamed at Janus. "So maybe we can all be different and special together and do really cool things one day! Like the three Musketeers."
Janus considered strongly. "I'm Athos."
"You can be whoever you want to be!" Patton said earnestly. "Then we can all have lots of musketcheer."
Drew, Roman and I choked on a laugh. Logan shook his head fondly. "He watches one sitcom that likes puns and he suddenly won't stop," he said.
Even Janus cracked a small smile. He accepted the paper. "Fine," he said. "We can have musketcheer."
Drew pouted. "Does this mean I'm your friend now?"
"Yes," Patton said firmly, looking at him.
Drew jumped, looking fearfully at Patton, who somehow managed to look intimidating while also avoiding eye contact. He looked up at me. "What have I done?" he asked.
"Made friends." I rubbed his back. I looked around. "We should probably get all these guys home. They've had a long day, and school will be letting out soon."
"I guess now that all our kids are friends, I'll be seeing more of you," Roman said to both Logan and me.
Logan hummed. "I presume so. Patton does not own a phone of his own. I can give you my number if your children wish to contact him?"
"I hate to say it, but you should probably get him his own phone," I said. "It's dangerous not to have one. If I ever lost sight of Drew...I'd rather he have a phone."
Logan considered this. "I suppose you have a point. Nevertheless, for the moment, you'll have to go through me to reach Patton."
"Don't have to ask me twice. Here." Roman accepted Logan's phone and typed in Janus' number, then passing it to Drew, who stared at it for a moment.
I recited his number to him and he punched it in. "Don't worry, kid," I said. "One day, you're going to have to tell so many doctors your number that it's going to be emblazoned on your brain."
After all numbers had been exchanged, I shook Logan's and Roman's hands goodbye and let Patton and Drew embrace again. Janus stayed stubbornly in his seat, refusing any sort of affection, which kind of concerned me, but then Roman whispered, "This is the most receptive he's been since I started fostering him."
I nodded and smiled, leading Drew back toward the car. He looked at me. "I guess I have friends now."
I glanced back toward Roman's car as it drove away and caught Logan's eye as he loaded into his own. He smiled at me.
Possibly harmful things y’all need to be careful of when writing sanders sides characters (that isn’t to say you can’t write them, but be careful with how you do)
Trans Janus - making the “liar” trans? Not a great idea if he’s the only character you ever write as trans.
Soft Virgil - not all soft Virgil is bad, but you do have to be mindful of how you write it, don’t make Virgil like a baby or a child (unless they’re literally a child in the writing you’re doing)
Aromantic Remus - there’s plenty of lovely aro Remus content, I’m personally an arospec Remus kinnie so it does pop up in my writing, but again, it’s about how you write it. Please be careful that you’re not stepping into the category of “Remus can’t love at all” esp since he’s intrusive thoughts and that can easily demonize the subject
Autistic Logan - god there’s so many fucking stereotypes you have to avoid to do autistic Logan, and it’s great to have autistic Logan for projection, but y’all gotta be careful, avoid “autistic people are all extremely smart” “autistic people can’t experience emotion” just check yourself with the stereotypes - there’s def a lot of reasons lo could be autistic, just be careful with how you write it
Aromantic Logan / Asexual Logan - just don’t make Logan aro/ace because “Logan doesn’t have emotions emotionless robot” once again, don’t add to the stereotype that aromantic people don’t experience love at all or make him completely emotionless
Logan with OCD - as someone who is fairly certain they have OCD, this one sometimes bothers me, because this idea of “OCD is just people who are neat” HAS TO GO. please be careful about that.
Generally marginalized groups should not always be your antagonists. Not everyone sees Janus as an antagonist, of course, but. Just be careful of it.
Oh yeah also don’t tag your drawings as BLM even if they’re in support of the cause and don’t tag your Remus content as intrusive thoughts (you can use intrusive thot if you want). It clogs up the tags for other people.
Usually you can break these all being stereotypes by adding another character that is in that group too. For example, making not only Remus aromantic, but making Roman aromantic too.
But please be mindful. Write the characters you want, continue to project (esp if it’s a coping mechanism!!!), but just be careful of the ideas that you’re putting out there!!
Feel free to add on. Obviously my white ass doesn’t know everything.
