#logan sanders Tumblr posts

  • an-organized-confusion
    25.09.2021 - 1 hour ago

    Everybody’s Dead, Jim.

    I’ve tried to fight Warmech like twice this run. Each time I was unprepared. Istg, I will destroy this thing. Because dammit, I’m a sucker for chievos in games. I know I can 100% this game soon. (Might have to put down Steam afterwards, for time mgmt / implement stringent FocusMe parameters for own sanity, afterwards.) >_<

    Anyways, just thinking abt the faintest glimmer of a FF!AU. And just. The Core Four getting trounced by the Warmech repeatedly. Because Catharsis and Silliness. Just imagine the banter, if you will.

    (Eventually they get beefy/strategic enough to take what is technically the franchise’s first ever superboss. The Fiends and Chaos himself aint got nothing at that point. Pffft.)

    #sanders sides#roman sanders#virgil sanders#patton sanders#logan sanders #(pffft - now just thinking abt that old webcomic 8-Bit Theater... and how the non-protag classes-) #(-were side characters) #(so there would be some BG shit involving monk!remus & red-mage!janus... pffft) #(one thing i think is hilarious is how clevinger called the four heroes in 8bt murder hobos... 'cause lbr they were. esp the knife-happy BM) #(idr if i actually read all of 8BT... it's been AGES. there might be stuff that aged less than stellar but i did remember enjoying it) #(i can't not imagine roman/virgil/patton/logan being gawd damn murder hobos in this au or adjacent ones) #(just for shits and giggles)
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  • tssidesfics
    25.09.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Spiders Are Pretty: The Much Awaited Happy Version of MG

    Spiders Are Pretty would be that thing I promised you guys where I’d give Virgil his pet spiders back and everything could be happy and nice and not-angsty. But there’s still some angst. A little bit. It’s not bad.

    If you haven’t read Morality Is Grey, don’t read this. I mean, please go read that and then come back and read this, but seriously, this is meant exclusively for the fans of that story. I don’t think you even could follow it very well if you tried to go in cold.

    If you need enticed to read Morality Is Grey, this is its synopsis and an excerpt:

    The day Paranoia became Anxiety Changed everything. Or: A Virgil-centric chronicle from Thomas' childhood on through to the aftermath of Selflessness vs. Selfishness Redux
    "There's a new Side wreaking havoc on Thomas' Conscious Mind," Deceit said simply.
    Rage screeched to a halt, midway through taking out his anger problems on another dummy, and Remus froze two feet off the ground. Anxiety couldn't move, or breathe, or think past the white noise roaring in his mind.
    "How is that possible?" Anxiety forced himself to ask. "I thought Thomas was done developing Sides."
    Deceit's eyes flicked toward him. Remus suddenly dropped down from the ceiling, spraying blood everywhere, and landed with a thud.
      "Ooh! I know! Pick me! Pick me!" Remus' eyes took on a too-intense light. "Morality totally had an identity crisis and Split right down the middle, and it was bloody and awful and he was screaming and I bet Roman threw up all over both of them and Logic probably—"
    Deceit closed his fist and Remus' hand slapped over his mouth.
    #sanders sides#tssides#tssides fic #sanders sides fic #Virgil's spiders#ts virgil#virgil sanders#ts roman#roman sanders#ts patton#patton sanders#ts logan#logan sanders #logan is over your bullshit #virgil goes mildly feral #and then has a breakdown #it's all cool #the long-awaited comfort fic after the murder your heart and soul fic #enjoy!
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  • sock-n-starred
    25.09.2021 - 3 hours ago

    thought i was virgil when i was younger but as an adult i realize i am sooo logan

    #him not being taken seriously or listened to...i get that king #also just his personality! his pent up frustrations at everything! what a mood #logan sanders#sander sides #.txt
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  • shapa-likes-art
    25.09.2021 - 4 hours ago

    Y'all, I'm trying to use it prismacolors again, can You give me a side and request to draw?

    #im asking because y'all know damn well I might draw virgil againdgsvdg #shapa's ramblings #the requests are explicitly only sanders sides #art request#art ask#sanders sides#ts virgil#ts roman#ts logan#ts patton#ts remus#ts janus#thomas sanders#ts art
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  • iceshard1011
    25.09.2021 - 4 hours ago

    Before the world fell at our feet

    Ships: platonic Moxiety, pre-romantic Anxceit (but really it's up to interpretation)

    Characters: Virgil, Patton, Janus, Logan is there briefly

    Also on Ao3!

    Fic below the cut.

    Some convoluted exchange of 'Ding Dong Ditch' except they talk about their feelings and try to resolve inner turmoil and maybe reach some sort of reconciliation. Not too hastily, though. They still hate each other, of course. Of course.

    The silence of the hallway shattered with a flurry of tentative knocks against dark-painted wood.

    “You haven’t been answering your phone, kiddo,” called a soft, almost shy voice. “I was wondering if you were doing okay, since... you know, things have been... tough, lately.” The room inside stayed quiet, no matter how carefully he listened. “I was hoping... you could come out for some food? We could bake together, if you’d like. It’s...” He laughed. It was mirthless and sad. “It’s sure been a while since we got to do that, yeah?”

    Silence. Not even rustling sheets or a frustrated sigh.

    He leaned back, trying not to look too obviously hurt — as if Virgil could see through his door. The wood was slightly chipped. He wondered when that had happened. Recently? Or had it been there for longer than he wanted to know?

    He rubbed the back of his neck, pondering. What could he do? Virgil clearly didn’t want to talk to him... and he couldn’t be blamed, really.

    “I just... thought it might make you feel a little better,” he tried. Virgil might not even be in there — there was no proof he was even listening. It was stupid to be doing this.

    “I’ve seen you’ve been hanging out with Roman a lot more recently,” he went on. “That’s…” Unexpected. “Good. It’s so good, kiddo. You both did so well talking to Nico. I know Roman appreciates what you did.”

    He trailed a finger down a small jagged crack in the purple paint.

    “I wish I could have seen it in person,” he murmured truthfully. Wish I could have been the one who caused it. Wish I could have been the one you risked everything for.

    But no — that was bad. Bad and selfish, and he couldn’t be like that. Thomas was trying to fix that about him, but people didn’t change easily, especially after years of a practiced notion. Life just didn't work like that.

    “I only heard about the way your eyeshadow changed colour from the others,” he continued softly. “I bet you were just the prettiest thing in the world.”

    He half expected to hear a huff or the shuffle of material as Virgil tried to work off his embarrassment. He didn’t hear the slightest hint of movement.

    “I’m sorry,” he said, and his voice broke. He clenched his fists, trying not to stain the floor with salty droplets. “I’m so... sorry, for everything, Virgil. For hurting you. For doing all the wrong things by you. For not being who you needed me to be, when you needed it the most.”

    Against his will, his stinging eyes blurred further and spots on the carpet grew darker beneath him. “I’m sorry.”

    He waited.

    Nothing.

    This was pointless. There was nothing on the other side of that door except silence and emptiness.

    You told yourself not to get your hopes up, he thought, pulling back.

    “I’ll... get out of your hair. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

    The hallway remained still apart from the downtrodden shuffling footsteps slowly retreating.

    Inside the bedroom, the embodiment of anxiety bit his lip so hard he tasted iron.

    A few days later, Virgil crept out of his room for the first time in weeks, driven by his grumbling stomach and the ache in his chest. He rubbed the sleeves of his hoodie between his fingers in a repetitive, patterned motion. His breathing matched the movement. It became more forced as he descended the stairs. The kitchen was quiet, but not empty.

    Virgil swallowed. No backing out now.

    “Hey, Pat,” he said slowly. Patton looked up from where he was making pancakes at the stove. His face lit up, but from the way he wrung his hands together, Virgil could tell that he was restraining himself.

    “Good morning, Virge,” he said. His voice was soft. It didn’t match the way his eyes shone with delight. “How are you feeling?”

    “Better,” said Virgil. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just... wanted to apologise.”

    Patton’s eyes blew wide. “Um... For what?”

    That caught Virgil off-guard. Why was Patton avoiding it? Usually he was open to anyone trying to talk about their thoughts. Had Virgil done something wrong? Had he made a mistake hiding from him? He shuffled in place.

    “Don't make me, like... say it,” he grumbled.

    Patton looked baffled, but pleasantly so. He smiled and shook his head. “Say what, kid — uh —”

    “For ignoring you last night,” Virgil said, interrupting before Patton could stammer too much.

    Patton blinked, tilting his head like a dog. “Last night...?”

    Virgil frowned. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to —”

    “Oh, no, of course not!” Patton said, shaking his head and raising his hands. “I just got a little confused! I’m more than happy to — Oh! Good morning, Logan!”

    Virgil resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. All he got from the others now, aside from Patton, was awkward silences and loaded glares. It was doubtful that his anxiety would take kindly to one of Logan's indifferent silences this early in the morning.

    “Good morning.” Logan’s response was cold... but it was a response, at least. The logical side came into Virgil’s view as he moved into the kitchen and brewed himself a mug of coffee without another word.

    Patton turned back to Virgil, hands outstretched. “Virgil —”

    “It’s fine,” Virgil said. Patton’s face flashed with hurt, and Virgil’s chest tinged painfully. He met Patton’s gaze meaningfully. “Really.”

    Patton noticeably relaxed. He smiled, and it looked natural, and continued to make breakfast. Virgil shuffled down on his seat, listening to Patton’s pitiful attempt to converse with Logan, and tried not to cringe.

    Virgil stood in front of a closed bedroom door and hated the queasy feeling in his stomach.

    “Look, if this is how you felt the other night, my bad. I feel awkward as fuck.” Virgil was too scared to pause. If he paused, there was no doubt he would start overthinking, and then he’d back out, and then maybe he’d regret it. Virgil was so sick of regretting things. “And uh. Just for the record, you got the cardigan wrong. Again. So maybe just… stop trying.”

    He noticed with a jolt that he was digging his fingernails into his wrists. He pried his arms apart and forced the words through his throat. “You’ve already got Thomas and Patton backing you. You can stop acting like a cheesy cartoon villain and just start trying to get the rest of our good wishes.” He realised how wrong that felt to say, and moved to cover up: “Not mine, though. Sorry, not sorry. That’s not happening for a while. Ever, actually. Don’t hold your breath.”

    Virgil grinded his teeth, trying not to wince at himself. “I still hate you, is my point. But you make Patton happy, and... I guess you look after Thomas, in your own way.”

    He looked at the ground. He thought of comforting smiles that spread warmth across his chest like wildfire. He thought about his anxiety being unconsciously battled into submission each time he was welcomed into each room he crept carefully into.

    He thought about calming tactics and kind eyes and gentle voices and grey turning into patched purple. “I’m... definitely in no position to judge someone for that sort of shit.”

    Virgil shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He had a point. Get to the point.

    “Look, my point is that — fuck you, fuck this whole situation. You’re still a pretentious asshole.” He frowned. “But... stop pretending to be someone you’re not. It’s getting tedious.”

    As he talked, he wondered if he imagined the shuffle on the other side of the door, like someone trying to muffle noise. He pushed the thought away.

    Get to the point, part of his mind urged again. Be brave. Be brave, damnit.

    “Every one of Thomas’ sides deserves to be themselves without fear or judgement,” he said finally, spilling the words from his mouth like hot coffee he’d swallowed too fast. He took a breath, like it had taken energy to finally say it, and registered the deafening silence swirling heavily around him.

    That’s all I got.

    It didn’t feel like a microphone-dropping statement, or something that he thought the embodiment of deceit really wanted to hear. But he’d said it, and he’d meant it, and he thought that maybe that was enough.

    He slipped away, fleeing back to his room, because he would never be anything more than a coward.

    But if the next morning saw Virgil wandering downstairs to find Patton and Janus winding around each other as they made breakfast, he might've been rubbing at his cheeks to clear the exhaustion from his eyes, or perhaps cover up the smallest remnants of purple sparkles.

    #sanders sides#virgil sanders#janus sanders#patton sanders#logan sanders#anxceit #(but don't tell them that) #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #they actually talk about their feelings #sort of #cross posted on ao3
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  • acceberv
    25.09.2021 - 5 hours ago

    Which side would have the most psyche-locks? My guess is Roman

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  • ax3-e0ns
    25.09.2021 - 7 hours ago

    Aight, I said I'd make a follow-up post about Remus's Orangy-screach during his debut episode. So here it is.

    Honestly, upon thinking on it, this might make Remus a lot scarier as a side than I first thought.

    So, for context, I'll put a gif of the scream here:

    I'm sure I'm not breaking any new grounds by noticing Remus's looking around at the other sides, which I'm not. Obviously. But there are a lot of interesting implications regarding it. In my previous theory post regarding dear old orange I brought up how it appears that confusion/uncertainty is the biggest symptom regarding his possession stunts. But I also briefly brought up how Remus doesn't display either symptoms neither before nor after screaming. There are a few reasons as to why that is, Remus could just have been around orange enough to become immune to the side effects, it could be because they're both "dark sides", or (and this one is the most likely considering the events of WTIT) Remus was immune because he knew exactly what he was doing and for what intentions, and that is why Remus didn't suffer. the same effects as Logan and Patton who didn't do that intentionally.

    Look at what he does again, he screams, making his eyes have an orange filter: but he looks at Patton, Logan, and Virgil. He doesn't even glance down during this scene. Roman isn't part of the line of sight Remus was doing. Two out of the three sides he looks at during this scene have had mental breakdowns after this point. That definitely isn't an accident, that is clearly intentional.

    It's even more telling considering how during this episode, Remus is actively antagonizing Virgil and pushing him a lot. And Virgil does break, but not in the way Remus was likely aiming for. Instead of Virgil having his own Orange moment, he tells Thomas the truth and leaves. Clearly upset, but not angry. Which heavily implies that Remus will go after Virgil again to get him angry, to complete the targeted set.

    Even timeline-wise, this course of action makes sense. First it was Virgil, then Virgil (unintentionally) leaves a door open for Janus to then show himself to Thomas. Which then lead to Janus opening that door to Remus ("Recently, a snake offered me a morsel from the tree of knowledge"). Now, it's Remus opening that door to Orange. And we know it would be in character for Remus to slowly yank at some strings to cause a toppling effect for Orange to be able to come out, WTIT's elaborate tracks and the ending shows as much that Remus would try making Orange's reveal more "interesting". Its even more telling when Remus covers his scream's intentions by laughing about how he'd distracted the others.

    And I think that's what makes Remus more scary than first glance, the fact that he could plan out such elaborate means (that actually work mind you) to get a fellow side out of hiding. In plane sight. That we couldn't possibly predict until looking back with what we know now. This plan of his definitely is devious, but definitely not the way any of us expexted.

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  • cerasusrum
    25.09.2021 - 7 hours ago

    Remus: Janus, I made you a very special cake for our anniversary!

    Janus: oh that’s very kind of you remus-

    *The cake in question*

    Janus: That is the worst thing I’ve ever seen.

    Remus: I knew you’d love it!

    Janus: for once I was telling the truth. That thing is atrocious.

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  • eliemo
    25.09.2021 - 8 hours ago

    Joke's on You

    Summary: Roman had been so adamant about dragging him to his first party, Logan should have known there was some kind of ulterior motive. He should have known this was just another big joke. It always was.

    Notes: First fic for my high school au because I adore it and I wanted to finally make content for it. Thank you @cheshirevalentine for creating the au with me and helping to edit this fic

    TWs: Implied drug use/non-con drug use, panic attacks, bullies, overstimulation, minor violence, ableism

    Logan had never been to a party before.

    He didn’t really have any interest in going to one now, he had a math assignment to finish by Sunday, but Roman had insisted- wide eyed and grinning, so unabashedly excited- and Logan couldn’t possibly bring himself to turn the invitation down.

    He knew he could have said no, explained it wasn’t a situation he was used to or comfortable in, and Roman would have understood.

    But… this was the first time Logan had ever had friends. They’d invited him to sit with them at lunch a few months ago, Patton waving him over excitedly when he saw him alone in the library, everyone taking a genuine interest in who he was despite how quiet and wary he’d been in the beginning.

    It had taken a while, but he’d managed to start convincing himself this wasn’t another cruel prank or joke.

    This group really did want him to be their friend, and Logan had never thought that could actually happen. Nobody ever wanted to be around him.

    Logan didn’t want to risk messing it all up because he felt uneasy about going to a stupid party.

    He didn’t have good experiences with any students outside his new friend group but… maybe now it would be different.

    His friends weren’t exactly popular, outcasts that they all were, but Roman was decently liked, tolerated at least because of his size and good looks. He was friendly and outgoing and charismatic, and people seemed to accept that.

    Befriending the twins had scared off a good chunk of Logan’s bullies, though he suspected that had more to do with how intimidating Remus was than anything.

    “So you’ll go?” Roman asked, excited as ever, and Logan couldn’t bring himself to disappoint him. “I don’t really go to these things but everyone from the cast is going and the show’s coming up so I won’t see them as much after that. Virgil hates parties and Pat’s busy and Janus is—“

    “I’ll go,” Logan cut in, ignoring the curl of anxiety in his chest. “I understand that you don’t want to go alone. I’ll accompany you.”

    Roman’s eyes lit up, but something in his expression softened too. “Well, yeah I don’t want to go alone but I also just want to hang out with you, Specs.”

    The lightness in Logan’s chest was… not something he was used to. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had wanted to do something with him specifically.

    “That… would be enjoyable,” Logan said, wincing at his own bland tone. They’d all assured him they didn’t mind when he had a hard time with his tone, they understood what he was trying to say, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty when he was unable to match their enthusiasm out loud. “Could you send me the address?”

    “Don’t worry about it, I’ll pick you up.”

    “Oh.” Logan’s father was in town for once, but he’d be home late and Logan could easily make up an excuse about heading to the library to study or work on a project. “Alright.”

    “Great!” Roman was still beaming, sending Logan a wink as he grabbed his keys and stood up from their table. “It’s a date, then.”

    Logan was fairly certain two friends going to a house party together couldn’t be considered a date, but he decided to keep his mouth shut to avoid ruining the good mood. Roman was already gone by the time Logan realized he had probably been joking.

    -

    Logan didn’t want to go to this party. They hadn’t even gone inside yet, and Logan already wanted to go home.

    But he was in the passenger seat of Roman’s jeep, the Disney songs he’d been blasting on the aux cord finally silenced, parked in front of the house of someone who had probably given Logan a black eye at least once.

    Not that he planned on mentioning that to Roman. His friends knew he was bullied by most of the students, they’d seen it themselves (and Remus had intervened more than once, no matter how many times Logan told him to ignore it) but he had no plans to explain just how bad it really was.

    This would be fine. It was just a party, and he had Roman. Nobody would do anything to him when he was with one of the twins.

    “You okay?” Roman asked, and Logan jumped a bit when there was suddenly a warm hand on his knee. “If you’re not up to this we don’t have to go in. Just say the word, Lo, and I’ll take us somewhere quiet.”

    And Logan had no doubt that he would. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be one more step towards his first real friends eventually getting tired of him.

    “I’m fine,” he assured. “I just… I’m not sure what to do once we get inside. How- how do I act?”

    “It’s just a house party,” Roman said, like that answered anything. “It’s people from school, anyone’s invited. Just… you know. Go in and be yourself.”

    Logan quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t think being myself is a very good idea, Roman.”

    Not a single person at their school liked Logan, whether they went out of their way to hurt him or not, and Logan couldn’t name a single student he was particularly comfortable around.

    “It’s gonna be okay,” Roman promised. “You’re smart and sweet and funny, and it’s their fault they don’t know that. They’ll all love you when they get to know you.”

    Logan didn’t believe him, not for a second, but he nodded nonetheless and followed Roman out of the car.

    Roman had convinced Logan to ditch his tie for the party, leaving him in just a polo shirt and jeans. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so out of place.

    Without his tie there was nothing to fiddle with, nothing to pull on when he got restless, and he forced himself to shove his hands in his pockets instead of grabbing onto Roman’s arm like he wanted to.

    “Hey.” But once again Roman had reached out first, still shocking Logan with how open he was with physical affection, his friend’s hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be with you the whole time. If you want to leave early just let me know, alright?”

    Logan had no plans to ruin Roman’s night by doing that, but he nodded again. “Thank you.”

    He knew Roman had mentioned he didn’t really know the party’s host, and when Logan realized whose house they were at, he decided not to mention that he was unfortunately well acquainted with Jake.

    Logan had gotten his fair share of black eyes and bruises from Jake throughout the years, starting back on the first day of eighth grade, and he wasn’t particularly looking forward to his reaction when he saw Logan walk into his house.

    But maybe it would be different tonight. Jake was one of the many people at school who hated Logan because he was different (understandably, Logan had to admit) but going to parties was something normal people did, wasn’t it?

    Maybe they wouldn’t hate him when he was doing something normal for once.

    Roman sent him one last grin, keeping a steadying hand on the small of Logan's back as he led them both inside, the music audible from the front porch, the door propped open with a rock.

    The party was loud. There were crowds of students Logan only vaguely recognized, all crammed together in groups and shouting over the speakers blasting music Logan had never heard before.

    It was… it was a lot, and Logan suddenly wanted to go back to the car and sit in the blissful silence until the night was over.

    But normal people didn’t get overwhelmed by lights and noises and crowds so easily. Normal people didn’t want to bury their faces in their friend’s chest and beg to go home less than a minute after stepping foot into a party.

    Jake caught sight of them and Logan tensed when the larger boy made his way over, two friends Logan vaguely recognized shadowing him like bodyguards.

    They were all smiles, drinks in their hand, waving Roman and Logan over from the doorway. Logan forced himself not to flinch when Jake raised a hand.

    “Roman, right?” he asked, shouting over the music with a grin, but his eyes were glued to Logan. “Glad you guys could make it!”

    “Of course,” Roman said, nudging Logan’s shoulder. “The theater department’s been talking about it all week- I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

    “Good to hear,” Jake said, and Logan stiffened when he looked him up and down. “Didn’t expect to see you here. How're you doing, bud?”

    He sounded friendly, no trace of the usual anger and disgust that laced his voice when he usually addressed Logan. He took a breath, trying to smile like he’d seen Roman do.

    “I am doing very well, thank you.”

    Jake snickered and his friends laughed into their hands, and Logan had a brief moment of blind panic and confusion as he scrambled to figure out what had been so funny.

    It wasn’t until he glanced at Roman, and saw the crease between his brow, the way his eyes hardened and his jaw clenched, that Logan realized he was being mocked.

    Oh. Of course he was. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t pick up on things like this. He didn’t… understand what he’d done wrong.

    Before, it had always been easier to assume he was being mocked no matter what was said to him. It was safer that way, and he was usually correct anyway. But his friends- Patton especially- had carefully coaxed him out of that mindset these last couple of months.

    It was… nice. He felt relaxed enough around them now to talk freely, to not shut his mouth and count his words and panic over annoying someone into slamming Logan against a locker.

    “Good to hear,” Jake said, and Logan almost preferred it when he was violent. “I’m glad you two could make it.”

    “Right,” Roman said, his smile a bit strained. “Well, we’re gonna get some drinks. Thanks again for having us.”

    “Yeah, no problem.” Jake stepped aside to let them through, still grinning right at Logan. “See you guys around.”

    Roman’s hold was gentle, but he practically dragged Logan to the back of the party where the snacks and beverages were set up along the table. Logan kept his head down, almost certain he was being stared at as they weaved through the crowd.

    “I apologize,” Logan said, and he knew he tended to speak more formally when he was nervous or overwhelmed, but he couldn’t stop it no matter how annoying he knew it was. “I don’t… understand what I did.”

    “You didn’t do anything,” Roman said, grabbing two plastic cups and filling them both up with soda. “You’re fine, Lo. People are dicks, we’re not gonna let it ruin our night, ok?”

    Logan nodded. Roman enjoying the night was the reason Logan had agreed to come in the first place. “Alright.”

    “Seriously, I promise you’re okay. Here-” he handed Logan one of the cups, and he cautiously took it. “It’s a party, we’re gonna have fun. That’s what parties are for!”

    “I have never been to a party, Roman.”

    “Well then we’re going to make your first party one to remember,” Roman declared. “Now I wouldn’t… encourage it, but I’m driving so if you want to have a few drinks—”

    Logan cut him off with a sigh, smiling despite himself. “I’m not going to get drunk, Roman. I don’t believe I would enjoy it.”

    “No, probably not,” Roman agreed, sipping his soda. “But I won’t tell Janus if you decide to try.”

    Logan was smiling easy now, already more relaxed than he had been when they’d first stepped in. Janus would- figuratively- lose his mind if he found out one of them had gotten drunk at a party, even though Logan knew he and Remus had a habit of drinking White Claws until they couldn’t stand at least once a month.

    “We’re gonna have fun,” Roman said, offering Logan a hand. “I promise, I’ll make your first party one to remember!”

    ----

    Logan had lost track of time completely, something terrifyingly foreign to him. Typically, he had a perfect grasp on the seconds and minutes floating by. Right now, all he knew was that they had been at the party a couple of hours- maybe more.

    While he wasn’t as miserable as he thought he’d be, Logan still desperately wanted to go home. The music was too loud, the lights too bright, everyone pressed so close together, everything relentlessly overwhelming.

    And Logan was definitely being stared at, no matter what he did. He didn’t understand.

    But Roman had kept his word, never leaving Logan’s side as the party progressed, always making sure to include him in the conversation no matter who he talked to.

    He never once acted like he was ashamed or embarrassed to be seen with Logan. He just acted like he was with a friend.

    And while Logan appreciated Roman’s presence, he could see his friend slowly getting more and more restless, and Logan wasn’t an idiot.

    “You can use the bathroom, Roman,” he said, raising an unamused eyebrow. “I can handle myself perfectly fine.”

    “I know!” Roman said. “I just… this is new for you, and I don’t want you to get overwhelmed or… or scared or something, I don’t know.”

    “You can use the bathroom,” Logan said again, but the genuine thought and concern behind Roman’s words brought that light feeling back to his chest. “I’m alright, Roman.”

    Roman still hesitated, but he eventually relented and threw his cup away (he’d warned Logan never to leave his drink laying around) promising to be back in five minutes- ten if the bathroom had a line.

    Logan tried not to focus on how much worse the noise was without Roman there to ground him.

    He clutched his soda with one hand, so tight the plastic cup started to bend, his other hand tapping frantic patterns on his thigh. He reached up to pull at and fiddle with his tie, only to remember a second too late that it wasn’t there.

    It felt like he was being stared at, everyone laughing and gawking at him. Knowing Logan, they probably were.

    Maybe he could step aside for a minute, make his way to the wall away from the crowds of friends shouting to be heard over the ear splitting rap music.

    Surely Roman wouldn’t mind if Logan wasn’t exactly where he left him. He could see the bathroom from the wall, he’d be able to wave Roman over when he came back.

    He stood up from the armchair he and Roman had placed themselves at, started making his way to the other and of the room and—

    Something slammed into him, sending Logan stumbling backwards and his drink tipping over, the shock of the cold liquid seeping into his shirt pulling a quiet gasp from his lips.

    “Oh shit!” Jake was in front of him and Logan’s shoulders hunched, waiting for the worst. “Hey, sorry man. You okay?”

    “I’m fine,” Logan said quickly, even as his soaked shirt clung to his skin. “I apologize for getting in your—”

    “Hey, no that was on me,” Jake said, and even though the interruption made Logan shut his mouth and shrink back on instinct… it wasn’t the out-of-control fury he usually associated Jake and his friends with. Some of his worst bruises had been because Jake had insisted Logan had gotten in his way. “Sorry about your shirt, dude.”

    “It’s… quite alright,” Logan assured, still a bit stunned. “It will wash out.”

    Jake turned to his friend- a much taller student Logan couldn’t for the life of him remember the name of, jerking his chin towards the bathroom. “Go grab Logan some towels, ok? It’s a nice shirt, don’t want it getting ruined.”

    Logan found himself desperately wishing he was smart enough to pick up on sarcasm. He had no way to tell if Jake’s concern was genuine or not.

    The logical part of his head was screaming at him that it wasn’t, that he needed to get away and find somewhere quiet to wait for Roman.

    The stupidly hopeful part of his head wanted to give this a chance. Maybe he’d been doing good. Maybe they were finally going to treat him like they treated all the normal kids.

    Jake suddenly had an arm slung around Logan’s shoulders, his hold strong, and Logan had no choice but to follow as he was practically dragged across the party to the back tables.

    “I’ll get you another drink,” Jake said. “You want something stronger?”

    “No thank you,” Logan said quickly. “Just soda, please.”

    “Yeah I figured,” Jake teased. “It’d loosen you up, though.”

    Logan tensed. “No thank you.”

    “I’m joking,” Jake said, pulling them to a stop. He cut him off when Logan opened his mouth to apologize again. “Relax, I know you’re kinda slow.”

    It was said offhandedly, Jake already moving his arm to grab a fresh cup, but Logan still felt a flash of hurt blossom in his chest. He almost wanted to argue that he was not slow, he’d been top of his class for years and he knew Jake was well aware of that.

    But… everyone always got angry when Logan talked back or disagreed, and Jake was being so nice. Logan couldn’t risk ruining that.

    Besides, it had probably just been another joke Logan hadn’t been able to pick up on. Maybe that did make him a bit slow.

    Logan watched him closely as Jake poured him a fresh soda. He wouldn’t put it past him to slip Logan some alcohol while he wasn’t looking.

    But Jake did as he said he would, and when the soda was poured Logan’s attention was briefly pulled away by one of the party host’s friends shoving a towel under his nose.

    He was hoping that would be it, that they’d go back to ignoring Logan so he could still make his way somewhere quieter while he waited for Roman.

    Unfortunately, Logan found himself herded back into the sea of students, seated on another couch on the opposite side of the house from where Roman was supposed to meet him.

    Jake was sat on the coffee table, one of his friends leaned against the arm of the couch, another right beside Logan, keeping him boxed in.

    They were all smiling, and they looked friendly, but there were so many people staring and he couldn’t—

    “So Logan,” Jake said, grinning. “How come we never see you at parties, bud?”

    Logan thought it was fairly obvious why, they didn’t exactly give any indication that he’d be welcomed. He’d honestly expected to get thrown out the second he showed his face tonight.

    “I am usually too busy,” Logan settled on, and his face felt hot when someone snickered. “But Roman insisted I accompany him tonight.”

    “Yeah?” Jake asked, and Logan took a sip of his soda to hide how confused he was becoming. “So… where’s Roman? I don’t see him.”

    “He—” Logan glanced at the hallway leading to the bathroom, but it was impossible to get a clear view with all the people standing in the way. “He’s just in the restroom.”

    “Really?” Jake scooted forward until their knees were touching, and Logan took another sip of his drink to stop himself from asking Jake to back up. “I don’t see him. Are you sure he’s still here?”

    A spike of anxiety curled in Logan’s gut, clawing up to his throat, and he clutched his drink close to his chest. “Of course he’s still here.”

    Roman did not drag Logan to a party just to abandon him. This… this wasn’t a prank or a joke. Roman’s friendship wasn’t a prank or a joke.

    It was different this time. Logan really did have a friend.

    But the panic wasn’t going away, white hot dread settling in Logan’s chest, and he quickly drained half his cup in a desperate attempt to drown it out.

    “He probably snuck out the back,” someone said, and Logan’s throat tightened. “You wouldn’t give him a break all night, he was probably desperate to get away from you.”

    Everyone laughed, shrill, thunderous, and loud, and Logan forced himself to join in, quiet and lifeless as it was. He didn’t get the joke.

    “It’s cool that you’re trying to make friends,” Jake said. “But like… this is the first time I actually feel bad for those misfits. I know what a fucking nightmare it is trying to talk to you.”

    He was still smiling, his friends laughing along with him, so there was no reason Logan should feel so hurt over a simple joke.

    His friends (His new, real friends. They were real.) did the same thing, joking and teasing, poking fun at each other, gently bumping Logan’s shoulder and smiling gently if Logan expressed that he didn’t understand.

    But none of their jokes ever made Logan feel like this, cornered and small, scrambling to figure out what he’d done that everyone found so funny.

    Logan swallowed, his throat dry. “I am not… very adept at socializing.”

    Jake laughed outright, and the uproar that followed made Logan want to sink into the floor and disappear forever. He wanted to go home. He wanted to find Roman.

    Everything was too much. The glaring lights overhead had somehow gotten brighter, the music was grating against his suddenly pounding skull, everything overwhelming and wrong and painful.

    “If- if you’ll excuse me,” Logan managed, but his voice came out small and quiet. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. “I have to… I- I’ll be back.”

    He stood from the couch, breath catching in his throat when he almost stumbled, the room tilting dangerously as he started pushing his way past the crowd of people.

    Someone shot out a leg to trip him, cackling when he really did stumble this time.

    Logan ignored it, not even bothering to turn and figure out who it had been, breathing coming out quick and panicked as he made his way towards the bathroom.

    Everything felt far away now, and somehow still too loud at the same time, and once again all Logan wanted to do was rush into Roman’s arms and beg to go home until his voice was hoarse.

    He froze in his tracks when he made it to the bathroom, heart sinking.

    The door was open ajar, the light off, and someone beat Logan there, slipping inside and locking the door behind them. Which meant Roman definitely wasn’t here, and Logan had nowhere to lock himself away to hide.

    Logan couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t understand why he was panicking, Roman had every right to leave if he wanted to. Logan… supposed his need to stay by his side all night had been a bit annoying. He’d just been too selfish to consider Roman’s feelings.

    He turned himself around, silently begging for Roman to be right on the couch where he’d left Logan waiting, but the seating area was empty, surrounded by mingling, tipsy friends.

    Roman wasn’t here. He wasn’t…

    It happened again. Logan had been strung along, fed promises of friendship he wanted so bad, only for it all to be a big joke Logan was too slow to pick up on.

    It had happened so many times, over and over again since elementary school, and Logan fell for it every time, would probably continue to fall for it, all because he had that stupid, illogical need to just be liked. To be wanted.

    All at once, Logan realized that if he didn’t get out of here right now he would break down. And that was unacceptable, because the one thing he had over these people was that he had never ever let them see him cry.

    No matter what, no matter what they did or said, none of them had seen that it actually got to him, that the helplessness and confusion and loneliness hurt. Not one person had ever seen him in tears, and he planned on keeping it that way.

    He couldn’t get into the bathroom, and he’d have to walk past Jake again if he wanted to get to the front door, but the party took place entirely downstairs, which meant the second story would be empty.

    Logan knew he wasn’t supposed to go up there, this wasn’t his house, but… nobody would even know. He just needed a few moments to be alone, to pull himself together somewhere quiet, and then he could focus on getting home. If Roman really had left, he’d have to calculate how long the walk would be.

    Nobody paid him any mind when he made his way up the stairs, forced to cling to the railing like a lifeline to keep himself upright, his legs wobbling, struggling to support his weight.

    He didn’t understand. He’d been overstimulated before, plenty of times, but it had never been this bad. He’d never had trouble just keeping himself standing.

    Upstairs was empty, and though it was impossible to completely escape the noise of the party, it was blissfully muffled as he stumbled up the last few steps.

    The pounding in Logan’s head was getting worse, breath hitching in his throat every time he fought to calm himself down.

    He found himself with his back up against the wall, hands digging into his hair, slowly sliding down to the floor and squeezing his eyes shut.

    He needed to breathe. He needed to calm down and just breathe. He was being ridiculous.

    Of course Roman had left. Of course he had. This had happened so many times before, over and over again, Logan didn’t understand how it could still hurt so bad.

    His own heartbeat was so loud it drowned out the surrounding noise, apparently including the footsteps coming towards him. Logan jumped, completely unprepared for a hand to drop down on his shoulder.

    His eyes flew open, breathlessly hoping for just a second that it would be Roman staring back at him, quiet, concerned, and gentle.

    But all he saw was Jake, boxing him against the wall where he sat, eyes shining with something painfully familiar, a hatred that made Logan’s stomach twist.

    “Hey buddy,” Jake said, cold and condescending enough for Logan to easily latch onto. “You feeling okay?”

    Before Logan could answer there was a hand twisted in the collar of his shirt and Jake was yanking him to his feet in an instant, Logan’s stomach lurching at the sudden movement.

    His legs wobbled underneath him, giving him the unfortunate appearance of a scared newborn deer, and Jake practically had to keep him upright by his hold on Logan’s shirt.

    Logan tried to twist away, scrambling to get a hold of Jake’s wrists, but his hands were slow and uncooperative, fingers heavy, sluggish and useless.

    Jake yanked him forward until Logan was inches from his face, eyes narrowed. It was the anger Logan was unfortunately used to, somehow less terrifying than the bright smiles and polite words Jake had been feeding him all night.

    It still made Logan’s heart drop, all too aware of what was coming.

    “I don’t know why the fuck you thought you could step foot in my house,” Jake snarled, but Logan could barely hear him. “Nobody wants to fucking see or hear you, Logan. Nobody wants you around!”

    Logan’s breathing was just coming out faster and faster, blood rushing in his ears. “I was just—“

    Jake suddenly shoved him, so hard Logan gasped as he stumbled and fell backwards, only to be caught by another pair of hands, rough and painful as they held him upright by the arms.

    Oh. Logan hadn’t even realized Jake had brought friends.

    He didn’t get a chance to dwell on that before Jake’s fist collided with his stomach. Logan wheezed, the air knocked out of him, legs buckling under the pain.

    “I just said nobody wants to hear you,” Jake said. “Jesus- someone takes pity on you once and now you think you’re allowed to talk? I thought we made it clear years ago, nobody wants that.”

    Logan forced himself not to react, always a blank slate whenever someone would snap and take their frustrations out on him, but he was fairly certain his panicked breathing gave everything away.

    He’d been told for years by people like Jake to stay quiet, that he talked too much, that his voice was just annoying. Everything he said was pointless. Nobody wanted to hear him.

    He’d barely been able to say two words when Patton had waved him over to the group’s lunch table, everyone terrifyingly kind and genuine.

    He’d opened up slowly, and when Logan had eventually lost himself to one of his rants- rambling excitedly about the plot of the book he’d been immersed in- everyone had stopped what they were doing to listen. They’d all looked so excited.

    That couldn’t have been fake. That couldn’t—

    Jake punched him in the stomach again, harder this time, sending Logan staggering back against the chest of whoever was holding him still. There was a third strike to his face, Jake’s knuckles colliding with Logan’s cheekbones, knocking his glasses askew.

    Jake suddenly switched tactics, taking Logan by the collar and yanking him forward as hard as he could, Logan’s arms still held tight in a vice grip behind him.

    For the first time all night he was glad Roman had convinced him not to wear a tie. He’d been yanked around by it one too many times for his liking.

    Jake raised a fist again and Logan flinched back before he could stop himself, squeezing his eyes shut in preparation for another burst of pain across his face.

    But the blow never came, and when Logan risked cracking his eyes open, Jake’s attention had been pulled to the staircase, towards—

    “Hey, fellas.” Logan’s head snapped up at Roman’s voice, just able to make out his figure standing at the top of the stairs, frozen. “What’s going on?”

    Jake didn’t drop Logan's collar, and the hold on his arms only tightened painfully. “Hey, Roman. We thought you left.”

    “I didn’t,” Roman said tightly, and Logan felt dizzy with relief. “What the hell are you guys doing?”

    Jake smiled almost sweetly, his fist still hovering in the air, knuckles bright red. “We’re just chatting with Logan.”

    “No, that’s not what it looks like.”

    “We’ve all had a few drinks,” Jake said, and Logan couldn’t bring himself to argue no matter how badly he wanted to. “We’re fine, Logan just can’t hold his alcohol. He’s having fun.”

    Jake tugged a bit on his shirt collar, and Logan forced himself to keep a straight face. He was fine- it was fine. Roman was here. He was still here and he hadn’t left Logan alone.

    Roman was still as a statue, his expression unreadable, but his voice was tight when he spoke again. “No, he isn’t.”

    “Aw, sure he is.” Jake tugged Logan forward slightly, his shirt collar starting to dig into the back of his neck, and Logan quickly averted his gaze. “He’s fine, Roman. You don’t have to babysit, we got him. Right, Logan?”

    Logan couldn’t answer, his heartbeat so loud he was certain they could all hear it, throat unbearably tight, breaths coming out faster and faster.

    He risked a glance up at Roman, wide eyed and pleading, letting out a shaky sigh when his friend started towards the group, eyes narrowed dangerously.

    “You have three seconds to get your hands off him before I throw a fucking punch, Jake.”

    Jake scoffed, but his fist lowered to his side. “Jesus, dude—“

    “Now.”

    Logan didn’t get a chance to prepare himself before something slammed into his back and shoved him forward, hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs for the third time that night.

    He crashed to the floor without any hope of catching himself, his already throbbing cheek finding purchase against the carpet. The fall knocked his glasses from his face, leaving him blind and completely helpless on his stomach, waiting for another punch or a kick to the ribs he’d have no chance of stopping.

    He thought he could hear voices above him, far away and muffled, drowned out by the pounding of his head and his own heartbeat.

    The room was spinning worse than before, the floor moving underneath him like a merry-go-round, faster and faster and—

    “Logan?”

    He jumped, picking his head up with a quiet groan, forcing himself to relax when he recognized Roman’s voice. All the anger and tension had faded, his voice quiet and concerned as he kneeled on the floor.

    “Hey, it’s ok,” Roman soothed, and Logan worked on pushing himself up off the floor. “They’re gone. I’m so sorry, Lo.”

    “It’s fine,” Logan said, but it came out quiet and slurred. “I’m… I can’t—“

    “It’s ok,” Roman said again. “Can I touch you?”

    If it was anyone else, Logan would have said no, he would have shrunk back immediately, scrambling to get as far away from any more touch as he possibly could.

    But this was Roman, carefully kneeling beside him, his voice the only thing cutting through the music blaring from downstairs and Logan’s own nauseating panic. Roman hadn’t abandoned him here, even when so many other people would have. He was still here, safe and gentle and trying to help.

    Logan nodded, regretting it immediately when the movement sent a flare of pain shooting through his skull, the room only spinning faster.

    “I’ve got you,” Roman said, and when he touched him it was warm and grounding, not rough and painful like Logan had learned to expect. “Come on, Teach.”

    Roman kept one hand steady on Logan’s arm, the other carefully wrapping around his back to help guide him up into a sitting position. Logan had no control over the pathetic noise that escaped his lips at the movement, but he squeezed his eyes shut and let Roman guide him off the floor.

    He couldn’t keep himself upright, ending up leaning against Roman’s side, his head resting in the crook of his friend’s neck as he waited for the dizziness to pass.

    Everything hurt and he didn’t understand. The party had been overwhelming, and he knew he’d have some bad bruises tomorrow, but he’d never felt this bad before.

    “I’ve got your glasses,” Roman said, and Logan forced himself to crack his eyes open. All the lights in the room were off, the only illumination filtering in from the party downstairs, but it was still bright enough to feel like knives digging into his skull. “Can I put them on for you?”

    Logan couldn’t risk nodding again, choosing instead to hum in affirmation and move his head away from Roman’s shoulder.

    Roman’s movements were slow and careful, and Logan forced himself not to whimper as his glasses were gently slipped onto his face and pushed up his nose. The spinning had slowed but not stopped, the dimly lit room a bit more clear now.

    “Thank you.”

    “Of course,” Roman said, still holding Logan steady. “How’re you feeling?”

    He felt like he was dying slowly, but he figured Roman wouldn’t want to hear that. “I’m… dizzy. I’m really dizzy.”

    “Are you overstimulated?”

    “I was,” Logan said, wincing at his own voice. His words were slurring together, his tongue impossibly heavy in his mouth, barely able to form coherent sentences. “That… that’s why I went upstairs.”

    “That was smart.”

    “It… it’s not…” he hesitated, gritting his teeth against the growing agony in his head. “It’s getting worse I don’t… I- I don’t know why I feel so bad.”

    Roman was silent for a moment, tightening his hold protectively, and for a second Logan was worried he was going to be shoved off, that Roman was going to tell him to suck it up so he could get back to the party.

    But he didn’t- of course he didn’t- carefully adjusting his hold to hold Logan more comfortably. “Logan, you… you kept an eye on your drink, right?”

    “I’m not drunk,” Logan said as quickly as he could manage, throat tight. “I didn’t… it was just soda, I wouldn’t—“

    “I know, Lo.” Roman ran his free hand through Logan’s hair, and some of the tension leaked from his shoulders. “I’m not asking if you drank, I’m asking if you kept your drink close to you.”

    “I… I did.”

    “Are you sure?” Roman craned his neck to get a better look at Logan’s face, frown deepening when Logan clearly had trouble focusing on him. “Logan, are you sure nobody touched your drink?”

    Logan didn’t understand why Roman suddenly sounded so angry, his hold almost desperate now. “Jake… spilled my drink on me. I- it was an accident, he didn’t… he got me a new one. But it was just soda, I swear it was just soda.”

    “Oh, Logan—”

    “I’m not drunk,” Logan insisted, pushing down a new wave of panic. “I- I didn’t have any alcohol.”

    “I believe you,” Roman said softly. “But you… you may have been drugged, Lo.”

    Logan froze, swallowing past the nausea once again, feeling his heart beat in his throat, everything around him loud and painful and too much. Everything but Roman.

    He took in his pounding head, his dizziness, the way he could barely move his body, his limbs heavy and sluggish, the world blurry despite his glasses being back on his face. He knew everyone hated him, but they wouldn’t… they…

    “They wouldn’t do that,” Logan said, even as the dread started to settle in. “They… wouldn’t do that to me.”

    “They might have,” Roman said softly. “It… looks like they did.”

    Logan couldn’t breathe again, his chest aching with each panicked breath he fought to take. The room suddenly blurred even further, hot tears pooling in his eyes, and he frantically pushed them back, swallowing around the lump in his throat, refusing to fall apart.

    “They… why?”

    “I don’t know,” Roman said. He kept his voice low, carefully controlled. “But I think it’s time to leave.”

    The panic only worsened at Roman’s words, dread settling against his chest as Logan realized what he’d done. He’d been stupid and careless, still not normal enough to be tolerated, and it had ruined Roman’s night.

    “We don’t have to,” Logan said, but it was getting even harder to speak properly. “We- we can stay. You’re having fun, I can wait up here.”

    “That’s alright,” Roman said, and his tone left little room for argument. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

    “But, I’m ruining—”

    “You’re not ruining anything.” Roman carefully adjusted his hold, one of Logan’s limp arms now draped over his broad shoulders. “You’re okay, Lo.”

    The next few minutes were a blur. Logan made a pitiful noise he planned on denying to his grave when Roman pulled them both to their feet, the world dipping into complete darkness for a terrifying moment, his stomach churning.

    “I’ve got you,” Roman had soothed, letting Logan lean completely up against him, slowly guiding them to the stairs. “We’ll be in the car soon.”

    Logan’s breath caught, the commotion from the party growing louder as they made it to the top of the stairs. “I can’t, I… they- they’re going to—”

    “I won’t let them near you again,” Roman promised. “You can keep your head down, just hold onto me. I’ve got you.”

    Getting down the stairs took a ridiculously long time, but Logan did what he was told, holding onto Roman’s shirt as best he could when his hands were barely obeying his commands, shaky and weak and useless.

    They made it back to the first floor, the blaring music and flashing lights like someone pounding against Logan’s skull, and he ducked his head to hide his face in Roman’s chest, trusting his friend to get them out the front door. Roman’s hold was tight, something fierce and protective, his arms the only reason Logan didn’t crash face first into the floor in front of everyone.

    The house was big, but Logan knew it shouldn’t take them long to make it to the exit, even as they had to weave through the onlooking crowd. He counted their fumbling steps, desperately trying to distract himself from the pain. One… two… three…

    “Hey!” Roman froze at Jake’s voice, suddenly dangerously close, and Logan nearly lost his balance. “You guys leaving so soon?”

    Roman tightened his hold, dangerously still. “Get out of our way, Jake.”

    “The party isn’t over,” Jake said. His voice made Logan feel sick. “What’s wrong with Logan? Is he okay?”

    “You know he isn’t,” Roman snapped. “Move.”

    “Hey, it’s not my fault he drank too much,” Jake scoffed, and Logan thought he heard some snickers from the watching crowd. “He shouldn’t have—”

    “He’s not drunk!” Roman exploded, the sound making Logan flinch when it split through his skull. “You drugged his fucking soda!”

    Laughter erupted from the crowd, shrill and mocking, and Logan wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold it together.

    “Yeah he had no clue,” Jake cackled, like it was all a big joke. Logan didn’t get what was so funny. It felt like he was dying. “I knew he was slow but jesus. Come on, Roman I did you a favor. Just dump him outside and come have a few drinks.”

    “We’re leaving,” Roman said. “Don’t come near him. I’m taking Logan home.”

    There was more laughter from the party, a few cheers and whistles that grated against Logan’s skull. “Have fun, Roman!” Some shouted, and while Logan couldn’t exactly place the meaning of their tone, it made Roman’s breath catch and his hold tighten even more.

    For a terrifying moment, Logan thought Roman might set him down and throw a punch. He wasn’t as impulsive as his twin- or even Janus, who Logan was fairly certain still carried his pocket knife with him despite promising Patton he’d leave it at home- but Logan could practically feel the fury radiating off of Roman.

    Logan didn’t think he could handle being in this house for another second. He was still practically limp, struggling to get his arms to obey his desperate commands, but he managed to raise a hand and tug weakly at Roman’s sleeve, silently begging his friend to get the message.

    And Roman did, thank god, shoulders dropping almost immediately as he readjusted his careful hold, once again guiding them both forward.

    “I’ve got you,” he whispered, for Logan’s ears only. “We’re almost there.”

    Logan kept his eyes shut tight the rest of the way to the door, trusting Roman to get them to the car in one piece. The cold night air hit without warning, making him shudder, but some of the panic ebbed away as the sounds of the party finally quieted.

    As soon as the door shut, Roman switched tactics to hook an arm under Logan’s legs, one hand still firmly supporting his back as he scooped him off the floor and quickened his pace, his movements almost frantic.

    Logan forced himself not to cry out, even as the nausea worsened. “I can walk, Roman.”

    “I know,” his friend said. “But we need to get out of here. Just… just trust me, okay?”

    Logan didn’t reply, just gave a quiet hum and dropped his head back on Roman’s chest, breathing in the fresh air. Roman hadn’t abandoned him, even when it would have been so much easier to look the other way. Logan would trust him with just about anything right now.

    They made it to the car fairly quickly now that Roman didn’t have to move at Logan’s sluggish pace, and Logan lifted his head as Roman managed to unlock and open the passenger side door, carefully depositing Logan in the seat.

    Logan slumped forward immediately, unable to keep himself upright, watching with lidded eyelids as Roman hurried around the front of the car to slip into the driver’s side. He reached over to buckle Logan’s seatbelt for him, a task that would have taken Logan all night with his uncoordinated limbs.

    “Alright,” Roman said, breathless. He turned on the engine and bucked himself in, now clutching the steering wheel in an white knuckled grip. “You good?”

    Logan swallowed. “I… do not feel well.”

    “I know,” Roman said, reaching over to squeeze Logan’s hand. “I’m gonna get you home, just hang in there.”

    The words made Logan’s head clear a bit, blind panic rising for an entirely new reason this time. “We can’t, I… my father he- he’ll think I was drinking, I can’t… he’ll—”

    “I can explain that you got drugged,” Roman said, and Logan shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault, Logan.”

    “He thinks I’m working on a science project, he- he’ll kill me, Roman.”

    “Alright,” Roman said, steady and calm. It was odd- Logan was always the one who was supposed to stay unwavering under pressure. “My dad’s out right now, you can stay the night with me. We can tell your dad you’re spending the night so we can finish the project in the morning.”

    Logan nodded, his racing heart starting to slow again. “Are- are you sure that’s alright?”

    “You’re always welcome,” Roman said. “My bed’s big enough for two, but we’ve got a pull out couch if you’re more comfortable with that. Remus will be thrilled to see you in the morning, anyway.”

    “Oh.” It was touching, his chest blossoming with warmth until movement at the front door caught his eye. “They… they’re watching us.”

    Sure enough, Jake and his friends were all crowded on the front porch, pointing at laughing, a few of them with their phones pointed at Roman’s jeep.

    “Goddammit.” Roman’s outburst took Logan by surprise, slamming his foot on the gas pedal and peeling down the street, steely anger back with a vengeance. Logan inhaled sharply, the sudden acceleration leaving him pressed up against the back of the seat, still barely able to keep his head upright.

    Roman was fuming, refusing to take his foot off the gas until Jake’s house was out of sight. It almost scared Logan how quickly Roman hopped from emotion to emotion- gentle and concerned one moment, then on the verge of screaming the next.

    Logan should apologize. He knew he should. He opened his mouth to do just that, but Roman beat him to it.

    “I just… what the fuck?” he demanded, and Logan didn’t know how to answer. “I don’t… how could they do that? How could they- you weren’t even doing anything!”

    Logan wrapped his arms around himself as best he could, turning away from Roman to stare out the window. Everything was still a blur, his eyes refusing to focus. “I clearly upset them. I was attempting to appeal to them and I… failed to do that. Again.”

    He’d just been trying to be normal. He thought he’d finally managed it. He didn’t understand why it was so hard.

    “They drugged you,” Roman spat, like Logan was unaware. “They drugged you so you couldn’t fight back when they beat you.”

    “It was unnecessary,” Logan agreed, voice still quiet and unsteady. “I’ve never been able to fight back before, Jake had no reason to think tonight would be different.”

    He could feel Roman staring at him, incredulous and horrified. “Jesus, Lo.”

    “I… I apologize.”

    “No, not you, it’s—” Roman paused, running a shaky hand through his hair. “It’s not fair. I was looking for you when I came back from the bathroom and they… the shit they were saying—”

    “People say a lot of things about me,” Logan said, lifeless and resigned. “I have learned to ignore it.”

    “But they thought this was a prank,” Roman said, and Logan froze. “They… when we got separated, people kept asking me if my plan was to ditch you there or- or get you drunk or… or… god, they didn’t even think we were actually friends. They assumed it was just some big joke!”

    And Logan… didn’t know what to say to that.

    He’d never planned on voicing his worries to his friends, the constant nagging at the back of his head that it was all just another joke, but he’d always assumed that if he did, it’d be brushed off with eye rolls and laughs.

    But Roman was clearly distraught, gripping the steering wheel so tight it looked like it might break, eyes brimming with unshed tears. Roman was emotional and often overdramatic, but Logan thought he knew him well enough to recognize true, genuine distress.

    The guilt was suddenly overwhelming, and Logan hunched his shoulders, turning back to the window. “I’m sorry.”

    “It’s not your fault,” Roman said. “None of this is your fault.”

    “They… told me that was your intention,” Logan admitted, knowing he shouldn’t. Maybe if his head was more clear, he’d have kept his mouth shut for once. “Jake told me you left as soon as you got the chance.”

    “And he was fucking with you. You know that, right?”

    Logan didn’t respond, eyes on the blurred road outside the window, because no matter how badly he wanted to believe Roman, he still couldn’t quiet those thoughts.

    To Logan’s horror, the car slowed to a stop and Roman veered to the side of the road, dropping his death grip on the wheel to give the passenger seat his full attention.

    “Logan,” he said, his voice low and steady. Serious. It reminded Logan of himself. “You’re my friend. That’s not a prank or a joke. Me, Remus, Janus, Virgil, and Patton- we love you. You know that, right?”

    “I…” Logan closed his mouth and opened it again, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry.”

    “You believed him.” It wasn’t a question, and Logan couldn’t turn to face the heartbroken look on Roman’s face. “You believed Jake. Why would you—”

    “Because it keeps happening.” Logan’s throat tightened again as hot tears pooled in his eyes, and he quickly pushed it back down because no. He’d kept it together this long, he was not going to break. Not even in front of Roman. “It… it’s happened so many times, Roman.”

    Despite his best efforts, he found himself wiping furiously at his face to get rid of the few stray tears that escaped, pushing up his glasses to his forehead.

    “Logan—”

    “It… no matter what I do it’s always a joke. They know I won’t pick up on it so they keep- they keep getting my hopes up and then they just- just—”

    Roman reached for his hand, squeezing tight, and Logan’s breath hitched in a sob he barely managed to hold back. He couldn’t cry. Roman wouldn’t stay if he did something so pathetic.

    “Nobody likes me,” Logan said simply, because that was it. That was the whole truth of it. He’d just never let anyone see that it got to him before, that he wanted to be liked. “This is the first time anyone’s ever… you’re all… you’ve been kind to me and I want to be your friend but I can never tell if it’s a joke!”

    “It’s not a joke,” Roman said, voice soft and a little unsteady. “We like you a lot, Logan. We wouldn’t do that to you.”

    “I- I know.” And he did- he did know that, and he felt awful for ever assuming anyone so kind could do something so awful, but the thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone. “I apologize for my outburst, I just… I keep thinking.”

    “I understand,” Roman said, in a way that made Logan feel like he really might. “I’m not upset, I don’t expect you to just… get over it. I know it’s hard, and I know it’s gonna take time.”

    Logan’s eyes were stuck on his lap as he fidgeted with the sleeves of his shirt, still wishing he’d worn his tie tonight. “I’m trying.”

    “I know. We’re gonna show you that we love you, no matter how long it takes. Okay?”

    Logan hesitated, still refusing to lift his gaze, painfully uncertain. “Alright.”

    “And think about it logically,” Roman added, and Logan had almost forgotten they were holding hands until Roman started running his thumb along his knuckles. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to do that to you.”

    “I don’t know,” Logan said. “I never… understood why they did it, but I’ve never… really understood humor. I’ve tried, but—”

    “It’s not funny,” Roman cut in, a tight coldness seeping into his tone. “It’s not a funny joke, Logan. It’s cruel and unfair.”

    “Oh.”

    “And it’s not something we would do,” Roman said. “Have you ever seen Remus not tell someone to their face that he hates them?”

    Logan swallowed. “I… suppose not, but—”

    “Janus wouldn’t bother with something like that,” Roman continued. “He’d get bored with it after a day, and he’s only manipulative if it’s to get you to take care of yourself. Not to mention Patton and Virgil are horrendous actors, and Pat would feel too bad to let it go on more than ten minutes.”

    It pulled a smile from Logan, because he supposed that was true at least. They were all kind to him, but he’d never met anyone as friendly as Patton.

    “You’re an actor,” Logan said quietly, the words falling without his permission. Maybe he could blame it on the drug still in his system. “A good one, too.”

    “I am,” Roman agreed. “And I don’t… know how to convince you that I really do want to be your friend, but I’m not going anywhere. Not until you get tired of me.”

    “I cannot see myself getting tired of you,” Logan said. He tried to shift his position, only to be forcibly reminded that he probably had several bruises already forming across his stomach, gritting his teeth and sinking back against the passenger seat. He ignored the way Roman’s brow creased in worry. “I agreed to accompany you to this party to spend time with you.”

    Roman suddenly looked guilty, which was the opposite of what Logan had wanted. “I’m sorry. I should have kept a closer eye on you.”

    “You shouldn’t have to keep an eye on me.” It came out more bitter than Logan had intended, a defensive tightness in his chest. “I should be able to go to a party like anyone else.”

    “You should, and that’s… it’s not fair that you couldn’t tonight. It’s not fair. But it isn’t your fault.”

    “I’m inclined to disagree,” Logan said. God, his head hurt so bad. “They’ve always disliked me because I’m… I’m doing something wrong. I haven’t been able to figure out what that is, obviously, but if I—”

    “No.” Roman scooted forward as much as he could in the small space, and Logan couldn’t look him in the eyes no matter how badly Roman seemed to want him to. “You aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re… yeah, you’re different but that’s not a bad thing! They don’t like you because they’re assholes, Lo. It’s not anything you did.”

    “But none of them like me.”

    “I like you,” Roman said, and after everything tonight that shouldn’t be what almost made the rest of Logan’s tears finally spill over. “I like you a lot. I know for a fact the others do too. We don’t want to change anything about you. So don’t… don’t think like that, okay?”

    And Logan might not be the best with emotions, but he could hear the unabashed pain and desperation in Roman’s voice, the hope in his eyes when he glanced up, and for just a brief moment his own doubts silenced. Maybe he just couldn’t bring himself to disappoint Roman any more.

    He nodded, small and quiet. “Alright.”

    “Alright,” Roman echoed, brightening just a little, dropping back to his seat. “Okay, yeah. Good. Thank you.”

    Logan dropped his head back against the headrest, yet another brief wave of dizziness washing over him, the mark on his cheek throbbing. “Are we going to your house now?”

    “Nope,” Roman replied cheerfully. “Change of plans. We’re going to Pat’s, I’m gonna text Remus and he’s going to pick up Jan and Virgil, and we’re going to cuddle pile and take care of you until you feel better.”

    “That’s…” he had to cut himself off, swallowing past the new lump in his throat, warmth blossoming in his chest. “That is completely unnecessary.”

    “It’s tradition when someone gets hurt,” Roman said, leaving no room for argument. Not that Logan particularly wanted to. “And you’re no exception, Specs. We’re gonna take care of you.”

    Logan swallowed again, and this time he was a little less desperate to wipe away the tears escaping from the corners of his eyes. “If you insist.”

    “Oh, I do,” Roman said. “And the others will too when they see the state you’re in. Patton is going to spoil you when he sees that bruise.”

    Logan reached up to gingerly touch his throbbing cheek, wincing at the new spark of pain that broke through the heavy fog around his head. “I… would not be opposed to that.”

    Roman smiled, warm and bright and so genuine Logan didn’t doubt for a second that it was real.

    He let himself lean back and shut his eyes against the lingering dizziness as Roman pulled away from the curb.

    “You can rest, Logan,” Roman said, still right beside him, the same grounding presence he’d been at the party. “I’ll get you there safe. You’ll be okay, I promise.”

    This time, Logan believed his promises without question.

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  • fakeloveaskblog
    25.09.2021 - 8 hours ago
    #ask#logan sanders #remy failed me tonight as well 😔
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  • snowdice
    25.09.2021 - 8 hours ago

    Little Kestrel (Part 31)[Birds of Different Feathers Series]

    Fandom: Sanders Sides

    Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

    Characters:

    Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

    Appear: Thomas

    Mentioned: Janus

    Summary:

    It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

    Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb, sexual coercion of minors implied, a minor offering sexual favors

    This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted (and possibly some future content), look at the tag proofread stories.

    Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30

    Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd. Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where he went. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them.

    It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them, especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

    “Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton’s disappearance. Of course.

    “Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

    “I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had its head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

    “No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

    The cat still glared at him and swished its tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil stroked the top of its head gently, and it broke its unnerving eye contact with Logan to squint its eyes and purr.

    Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

    Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

    “That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people, and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

    “But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

    “Do not give it a name,” Logan warned. “You will get attached.”

    “How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked, blatantly ignoring his advice as he continued to pet the animal.

    “Do not name it,” Logan repeated.

    “You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws! So, it looks like she’s wearing little mittens!”

    Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

    Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

    “Those are fine,” Virgil said.

    “No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

    “This is a bad idea,” Logan cautioned once more.

    “Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “What’s the first word you can think of?”

    “Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

    “…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

    “Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

    “How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

    “Alfredo?”

    Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

    “Good start,” Patton said, trying not to laugh. “Logan, do you have any suggestions?”

    “Cat,” Logan said.

    “Real suggestions,” Patton scolded. He gave Logan a pointed look, glancing at Virgil and the cat and back at him.

    Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

    “Catphrodite!”

    Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

    “Helenpaw.”

    “Claudia.”

    “Clawdia.”

    “Persephone.”

    Patton smiled at him, eyes shining.

    Logan repeated what he’d just said in his head. “…Damnit!”

    Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

    “Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

    Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

    Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn,” “Acorn Squash” and “Roast Beef Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

    It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

    The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

    Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

    The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

    He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend its claws, and its teeth did not draw blood.

    “That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

    “Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

    “A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

    “I love you too!” Patton cried happily.

    Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

    Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was, of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart-breaking mews.

    “You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

    Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

    Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

    “It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

    He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

    “I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

    Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

    “I know you do,” Logan said, regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. He glared at Patton who was smiling at him smugly. They had a cat now, he supposed.

    #sanders sides#logan sanders#patton sanders#virgil sanders #character thomas sanders #adriana writes#little kestrel #birds of different feathers #implied/referenced child abuse #assassination attempt#past torture#captivity #not pieces fic
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  • ax3-e0ns
    25.09.2021 - 8 hours ago

    Okay so here's a theory that struck me suddenly. What if the Orange side doesn't just embody Wrath, what if he also embodies confusion? Or at the very least uncertainty?

    I know this sounds a bit crazy but hear me out.

    Remember how in FWSA, in the end card, Thomas asks "are we ready for this?" I imagine that for some this wouldn't mean much, but considering how in Moving On Logan had practically spoken through Thomas, in his dialect no less, we know that a side could say something through Thomas. And considering Virgil's reaction to the question, it definitely wasn't him. Speach-wise, it can't be Janus nor Remus either. But if Orange was also confusion/uncertainty then that would explain why Thomas said that when he himself wasn't, well, anxious.

    It's also very likely that a side effect of Orange's possession is confusion, usually before or after he takes control. After all, Logan's eyes aren't the only eyes to have turned orange to some degree in the series. Patton's eyes turned orange when he became a frog, afterall. For Logan, he gets confused after the possession, while Patton was faced by intense uncertainty before he transformed.

    The only side who doesn't seem to experience this during their possession seems to be Remus. Remember, his eyes got an orange filter over them when he screamed during his episode debut. In fact, there's a lot of small things in that moment that will need it's own post to dissect.

    Overall, it might actually be possible that this might be a part of Orange's multiple factors as a side that we're barely picking up on and he hasn't even shown up yet!

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  • fakeloveaskblog
    25.09.2021 - 9 hours ago
    #i got this ask and cackled for several minutes over my stupidity so thanks #ask#logan sanders#sanders sides #im passing out now
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  • aliennopossumm
    24.09.2021 - 10 hours ago

    SWOLGAN

    #dw ur alowd to crazy murder me /j #virgil ramblez#sanders sides#caps#logan sanders
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  • jl-artsandcreations
    24.09.2021 - 10 hours ago

    A watercolor painting of Logan with the still unknown orange side over his shoulder.

    Art taglist ( just ask to be added if any of yall want to be (ˆωˆ) )

    @rigels-nigels

    @fandoms-are-for-always

    @we-all-horny-here

    @ollyollyoxinfree

    @supersoftsupersleep

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  • spooky-scary-virgil
    24.09.2021 - 11 hours ago

    Goodnight and Janus revealing it's him not Logan like

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  • intrulogicalweek2021
    24.09.2021 - 11 hours ago

    Another new song for the Intrulogical Week Spotify Playlist

    Do you have a song to add?

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  • imkaegay
    24.09.2021 - 12 hours ago

    I might start posting my art on here

    #sanders sides #sanders sides cosplay #cosplay #logan sanders cosplay #logan sanders
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  • manbemel
    24.09.2021 - 13 hours ago

    One Day Left

    Inspired by an incorrect quote by @codecarpenterbee on Twitter. CW Death mention

    #thomas sanders#sanders sides #sanders sides incorrect quote #sanders sides photocomic #character thomas sanders #logan sanders#virgil sanders#roman sanders#patton sanders#remus sanders#janus sanders
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