Papaver’s eyes lingered and he huffed a
soft chuckle at Coff’s antics but decided not to comment on the fertilization
aspect. Making sure his gifted decorations were securely in place, he tilted
his camera lens to steal a picture from below of what had become a rarity;
Coffea’s smile. “Mm,” he hummed with a nod as the shutter clicked
several times, set to repeat as it often was when he’s working. “Woke up
around four in the morning and just couldn’t get back to sleep. Found myself
here about the time the first few visitors were trickling in. Bit of wandering
in between… You?”
The camera had momentarily distracted
Coffea and when he realised he was the subject of multiple pictures, he stuck
his tongue out at the lens. “Four? Christus.
Sometimes I don’t go to bed until that late. I just – well.” Coffea shrugged
and grimaced, wondering if Urtica had seen him do the one eighty. “I meant to
go into the house and see who was about, but ‘Ica was coming out of her side
and… I just didn’t want to run into her. So I ran here instead. A brilliantly
adult way of dealing with my problems,” he commented drily, rolling his eyes in
an attempt to play up the humour. A child ran into the garden squealing,
chasing a butterfly, and Coffea chose to watch her play instead of trying to
read Papaver’s face. In the end, it only reminded him of Urtica, when she had
been that young and that full of confidence. His father had ruined that, of
course, and Cocos hadn’t lifted a finger to stop it. Coffea shook his head. Why
did his thoughts always have to go back there?
“Tis such a night where I am by myself (a rarity, let me tell ya). And indeed a night before a certification exam at work. Stress cannot be tolerated!
Who takes pity upon a weary Ler, worn down by the grind of being a productive member of society? What kind soul shall provide distracting teases on this eve where I am most certainly in the place to see ticklish flesh and hear the begs of sensitive maidens?
… Too dramatic or…?
Tease me, you little lees. I dare ya. (Bonus points for nylons but you didn’t hear it from me)
i’ve been seeing a lot of topics like “how to deal with someone who has bpd” and it always bothers me, because there is basically no topics about how to deal if YOU have bpd. that’s why i’m making this post, in my opinion as someone who has bpd. feel free to leave other tips and comment!
buy a notepad and write about your emotions. in DBT (dialectical behavior therapy), used a lot to help people with BPD, they tend to help others to regulate their emotions, basing on some principles, like:
identify and classify emotions; usually, people with BPD suffered/suffer from emotional abuse and it makes harder for us to have a knowledge about our feelings, since we never had someone to help us in this aspect. if you have hard times dealing with your emotions, you can create a special organization on your notepad, basing on: what just happened that could be a possibly trigger to your feeling? (EVEN IF IT’S SOMETHING MINOR, for example, if your friend replied to you in a different way, if you saw an image that made you feel uncomfortable); what are your physical symptoms about it? (for example, if you feel butterflies in your stomach, you are possibly anxious); what does this feeling make you want to do? (for example, if you feel like you want to hit something, you are possibly experiencing anger). and, also, try to identify your primary and secondary emotions, for example, if a friend forgets about an event that you would go together, first you may feel anger, but this anger can be followed by frustation or sadness (secondary emotions).
how to “change” your emotions; after writing about your emotions and trying to learn about them, you can add a subject in your notepad about “WHAT CAN I DO TO CHANGE THIS FEELING”. your first thoughts may be pessimists, specially because borderlines are VERY impulsives, like “i should probably self-harm” or even “i should probably kill myself”, due to the intensity of bpd emotions, but right now, you have to think with your rationality.for example, if your friend is delaying to reply, you can think about the possibilities that are causing this problem: if they are busy, if they are having a hard time or if they just don’t want to talk right now. after thinking about the situation as a whole, you’ll ask yourself “okay, but what will i do?” and that’s why i think it’s important to create a list about what makes you happy and what distracts you, so everytime you have a hard situation to deal with, you can check on your list. “oh, i’m having x problem, but in my list it says that painting makes me happy, so what about painting something i saw today?”. if you don’t have anything that you like about, there is an app called Calm Harm, that can help you in self-harm situations!
increase and improve positive emotional events; i know that it’s difficult for us to focus on positive moments, but once you are feeling down, please try to write about what happened in your day that was a good thing. and when i say it, i don’t mean a BIG thing, it can be something like seeing a flower in your garden. write about your sensations when your experienced this moment and think about the possibility of living this moment more than once. for example, if i saw a flower and it made me happy, can i try to plant one, so i’ll see it more often?
apply pressure tolerance techniques; by distraction, self-care, improving the moment and considering pros and cons.
SO, in your notepad, have a space to: first, identify and classify your emotions; second, a space to write about how to change your emotions; third, a space to write about positive emotional events and fourth, write about what pressure tolerance techniqures you can apply to your life.
practice saying no and saying what you need to the people around you; sometimes people with BPD tend to think that we are a burden to friends and family, and sometimes it’s not true. due to it, we often don’t tell what we really want. so, if you could, please, practice saying NO and what you REALLY need and want to people around you, even if it’s minor things.for example, if someone asks you to lunch with them, but you can’t/don’t want to, don’t let your abandonment fear decides what it’s the best for you, just say no, but not in the intention to hurt the other person. “i’m sorry, i really like you, but i can’t or don’t want to, since i have to do x thing/feeling x thing, but i really like you!”. when you say no, you can have a better idea about what you like and what you don’t, so you can start to let people know about it.for example, “hey! yesterday i said no when you invited me for lunch, so i realized i don’t really like going to public places, what about having lunch in my house next time?”
practice breathing techniques; intense emotions can lead us to panic situations or really bad physical symptoms. in stressing moments, we hold the air, increasing the level of carbon dioxide in our system, so the organism thinks we need more oxygen and make us breathe faster. the imbalance increases our heart beats, our blood pressure and the release of hormones such as adrenaline. i recommend ASMR videos to relax and you can breathe slowly, imagining a circle opening and closing, like the gif:
the post is getting long, so i’ll finish here! i’ll probably post a part two if you guys like! please leave a comment if it was helpful and i’m sorry if my grammar wasn’t very correct, english is not my native language.
remember that everything here is theoritical and it’s hard to apply these tips in your life, things will not suddenly change. but i believe in you and things take time, so don’t give up on getting better.
If you’re struggling to write, find yourself distracted during a writing session or just can’t seem to think of what comes next, I highly recommend writing sprints.
For those of you who don’t know, a writing sprint is where you write as much as you can within a certain amount of time: 5, 10, 15 minutes. You could even go for the 1k30min challenge.
The point of the sprints is to write as much as you can. It doesn’t matter about the quality. It doesn’t matter if your spelling is atrocious or if anything makes sense. The point is building your word count. Set the timer on your phone, and just type.
I do a minimum of 2 1k30min a day, and my writing output has increased from barely 600 words a day, where I’m distracted by the internet or struggling with what to write, to 2500+ words a day.
I plan to continue using sprints whenever I write because it helps me focus. I challenge myself to do better, to write more and with each sprint it gets easier.
Try to get rid of me in an overseas big city? We'll get rid of you instead.
(long story. tl;dr at the end)
Back in 2011 me and my immediate family traveled to Saudia Arabia for Umrah, or what’s known as the lesser pilgramage. You visit Makkah, make rounds around the Kaabah, pray with all your heart and soul, you get the picture. My dad and I were excited because we were all about going on a spiritual journey and casting away the problems of the world - but as it turns out, some problems just wouldn’t leave us.
As soon as we landed in Jeddah’s airport, our plan was to take a taxi to Makkah and get the Umrah done while we were still gung-ho about God. However, we were instead diverted to our relatives’ house in Jeddah, where we discovered that 4 or 5 of my mothers’ relatives and their families had gathered up and spontaneously crashed in my grandfather’s house for one giant family reunion. Naturally, my dad and I, as well as my maternal grandfather, were really upset over this development as my mom’s side of the family is full of … for the lack of a more polite word, the shady folks. Most of them I was on good terms with, but once I realized that my least favorite Uncle and Aunt had come with the crew, my enthusiasm just deflated like a balloon.
“[The early criticism] made me question myself—I didn’t know if it was always going to be that way…I was like, ‘Let me put out three more records and see if I can just stand in the eye of the storm. Not shift too much. Let me just take some of the [production] off so you can hear things a little bit better,’ I thought people were maybe getting distracted…I was just so committed to making music because I believe in what I do. All I had to do was not quit.”
Passion… it lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir, open its jaws, and howl. It speaks to us, guides us… passion rules us all and we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments; the joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we’d truly know some kind of peace but we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank… without passion, we’d truly be dead.
How do you wear an off shoulder crop top? With denim shorts and confidence, that’s how. If you wear plus sizes, these off shoulder crop top styles can be hard to find, but I’ve got you sortedwith several similar options in the widget below! I got this one tailored like I have been with most of my new clothes this summer - custom tailoring isn’t a luxury I’m always going to have at my fingertips, so I’m making the most of it while I’m in Bangalore. I’m still going the retail route for a few essentials however, like these ASOS denim shorts.
Denim shorts used to be a summer staple in my wardrobe, until my last pair got too old and battered to wear on a regular basis - and I’m so happy now to have found the mom short style on ASOS because these are the perfect denim shorts my wardrobe had been missing for way too long!I’ve been wearing these pair constantly since they arrived, and here’s what I love about them: thick, non stretch denim that I always prefer on shorts because my thighs make short work (ha ha) of all other kinds, and an inseam that doesn’t ride all the way into my crotch the moment I sit down or start walking (fellow fats, you know the thing I’m talking about.) I can actually move around and do things in this pair, and that’s a huge plus.
I’m not gonna lie, this outfit is the most skin I’ve bared to the world at large in a long time, and I wasn’t a hundred percent secure about it at first. It’s one thing to be perfectly happy with my body by myself and a very different thing to have to deal with creepy, staring men - a double whammy of fatphobia and misogyny (ugh.) But once I was at the Lal Bagh garden centre (all time favorite place) and shooting with my photographers and distracted by all the pretty plants and pretty photos,it stopped mattering whether anyone was staring or commenting or not. I was doing something I enjoy, and in a place I love and I came back home afterwards with some teeny tiny cacti and succulents. It was a good day. I wore what I wanted to and didn’t compromise, and I had fun in the end. And that’s how things should be!
-Coming home after a long
day and knowing you need to study but wanting so badly to avoid it once you
walk in the door and see Tom’s face
-“Alright sooo, I got
some of that cheese you like, and some bubbly, I thought we could catch up on
House of Cards? Or whatever you want to watch sweetheart, doesn’t bother me.”
-Just feeling really sad
and disheartened because you know you can’t and him picking up on it straight
-“What’s wrong darling? I’m
sorry, we don’t have to do that, we could go out or something? I just thought
you might like to have a night in.”
-“It’s not that, I just
really need to study for this exam tomorrow and I’d love to do all that but I’m
gonna fail if I don’t study, Tom I’m sorry I jus-”
-Tom steadying you with
his hands on your shoulders, putting his hand on your cheek and bending down to
look in your eyes to reassure you
-“Hey, hey now. Love,
your studies are important, you know that, I know that, don’t you dare be sorry
about it. Now I don’t know how much help I can be, but what if I be your study
buddy? I’ll help you in any way you need me to.”
-“You’d do that?”
-“Only for you my love.”
-Both of you sitting on
the ground with your legs crossed, your books and notes spread out on the
coffee table with your laptop, and he’s just staring at your notes in awe of
how much you take on
-“You just tell me what
you’d like me to do and I’ll do it. No questions asked.”
-“That’s very ballsy of
-Getting him to highlight
certain words in a word passage for you and him not knowing what colour you’d
-“Okay so you’ve got
pink, orange, yellow or green here, which should I use love?”
-“It doesn’t really
-“You wore green knickers
yesterday, so I’ll use green.”
-Just KNOWING Tom has so
many questions about the depths of what you’re studying because he’s a curious
little puppy but he holds them back because he doesn’t want to distract you
-“You have lovely
-“Thank you Tommy.”
-Tom rubbing your back
while he waits for you to give him something to do
-“Yes love, what can I
-“Could you maybe make me
-“Crackers? And that
cheese I got for you?”
-“I’m on it.”
- Tom wanting to feed you
the cheese and crackers so you ‘don’t have to waste your study time picking it
-“Tom I can feed myself,
you don’t have to do that.”
-“But I’m helpingggg”
-“Okay okay, fine”
-Getting him to quiz you
and him being so serious about it, covering the back of the page with his hand
so you can’t peep through
-“Are you gonna have a
-“No Tom, I don’t need a
buzzer, I’m the only person answering.”
-“But it’s a quiz show.”
-“It’s a quiz for study,
not a quiz show Tommy.”
-“…….it’s a quiz show and
your buzzer is ‘ribbit’.”
-Watching some recorded
lessons on your laptop and Tom watching with you even though he clearly finds
it boring af
“Tom you don’t have to
watch this if you don’t want to.”
“No no I want to, this is
-Struggling to read your
notes because you left your glasses upstairs and Tom knowing exactly what’s up
-So he goes upstairs and
grabs them for you but you’re too focused to notice
-He comes up behind you
and slides them on your face, and it’s the littlest gesture but you’re so so
-“You need to wear them
darling, your eyes are probably sore enough as it is”
-“I love you Thomas”
-“I love you too.”
-Tom looking through the
novel you’re studying and reading all your annotations because he just loves to
see your thoughts written down
- Starting to feel really
sleepy and Tom noticing your eyes drooping
-“How’re you going love?
Maybe you should head off to bed soon”
-“I’m almost done, I just
need to go through this last few notes and summarise them, would you make me a
-“No love, it’s bloody
12am. You can have tea, coffee will have you wired and you still need to sleep.”
-“Thank you for making my
good choices for me”
-“That’s what I’m here
-Finally finishing up and
just collapsing back into the gap between where his arm is holding his also very
tired body up and his torso, his hand resting gently on your hip giving it a
-“Alright, time for bed I
-Tom helping you to bed,
and letting you wear his lucky socks, the fluffy blue ones with clouds on them
-“I always wear them to
my auditions, you can wear them tonight to give you luck for your exam tomorrow”
- Thinking it’s a little
ridiculous, but his sweet soft boy face is utterly serious
-“I’d be honoured to wear
your lucky socks. They have been washed though right?”
-“I think so.”
-Tom slipping into bed
beside you pulling you into his embrace, one arm under you neck, the other
curled around your waist
-“Alright love, one last
question. Buzzers ready. Who’s the best Spider-Man?”
-“Ribbit. You are, you
-“That’s what I like to
Some of my friends are currently doing their exams (they know who they are), and I’m very proud of them and I think they deserve Tom as a study buddy highkey (not to mention all the goodness in the world), I know I would have fucking loved him as a study buddy when I was at school. S/o to anyone currently doing exams/hardcore studying! Get that education xxx
if requests are still open, you you think you could do a prequel to the “guess who’s back” fic?? Like with the reader and Harry on the isle before they went to Auradon and maybe a fic about the stuff they’d do together, etc, maybe how they became a couple/how they acted when they were together ? thank you so much if you can !! <333
Disclaimer - I do not own any of Descendants’ characters and/or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of Disney Descendants
Pairing - Harry Hook x Reader
Summary – The prequel to Guess Who’s Back and It’s Our Turn.
Warning(s) - abuse, swearing, implied smut but no descriptions
Summary: Logan stumbles across something called a comfort box and decides to make one for Virgil. However, he quickly discovers that he’ll need Patton and Roman’s help to make anything worthwhile—because it’s not like he can make anything good on his own, after all.
Logan is scrolling through Tumblr (an act which, he has discovered, greatly assists him in learning modern slang vocabulary) when he stumbles upon a post regarding boxes. Ordinarily, he would scroll right past it, but as he does a word catches his eye—anxiety. His curiosity is immediately piqued. Any information about the other sides is useful.
This, while perhaps not about Thomas’ sides directly, may allow him further insight into others’ dealings with anxiety, which might in turn offer him a greater grasp on what Virgil deals with. Perhaps it’s a long shot, but he’s willing to try. No time spent trying to understand one of his boyfriends can be considered wasted.
Besides, cubes are his favorite shape, after lemniscates, and a box is basically a cube.
The post, however, turns out to be less about boxes and more about what’s inside of them. It details a thing called a comfort box, which it insists can help ease anxiety if used appropriately. Suggested contents of said box are objects that appear to engage as many senses as possible in a soothing way. By doing this, the post declares, the box can serve as both a distraction and a comfort for those who suffer from heightened anxiety.
Logan is, to say the least, skeptical. He has often found that the best way to calm Virgil—and thus anxiety—is by talking their way through whatever troubles him. Patton’s hugs and cookies (snickerdoodles, specifically, although the peanut butter ones will suffice as well) also seem to help. Roman’s boisterous stories and jokes, too, usually serve to make Virgil relax—sometimes they even get him to laugh.
But, Logan supposes, extra comfort can never hurt—and he knows himself well enough to know that he won’t stop thinking about the possibilities of this box until he’s run an appropriate experiment.
That night, he excuses himself from his boyfriends’ movie-watching extravaganza, and they let him go without much of a fuss. For a moment, he allows himself to feel immensely grateful for them. They’ve begun to understand—he needs to focus, he needs to work, and if he needs to do that instead of watching a movie with them (not that that’s not fun, it’s just not his idea of mentally stimulating) they’ll let him. Of course, if he begins skipping every night, he’s certain that they’ll question him. They’ll let him exercise his mind, but they won’t let him run himself into the ground and oh, how he loves them for it.
The first thing he does when he slips into his room is conjure up a box. Its dimensions are 16x16x16 (all in inches), leaving it with a volume of 4,096 cubic inches, which Logan thinks is suitable for the items he’s selected. The first things to go in are a DVD copy of The Black Cauldron, followed closely by an MP3 player with several My Chemical Romance, Fallout Boy, and Gorillaz albums on it. Next is a jigsaw puzzle of the galaxy with one hundred pieces—simple enough that Virgil shouldn’t become frustrated putting it together, but complex enough that it should encourage him to focus.
After that, he slips in a package of peppermints—the kind that make Logan’s tongue burn and the air feel cold when he breathes through his mouth, sharp and piquant. A pair of noise-cancelling headphones go in next, along with a small box of Logan’s favorite herbal teas. Finally, he puts in a small card with crisis hotlines on it. His gut clenches as he does, and he hopes that Virgil never has to use them, but—but just in case, they’ll be there.
Once he’s done, he crouches in front of the box and takes a moment to study it. It seems much emptier than he had envisioned—perhaps he had miscalculated the volume he would need to fit everything inside. Unlikely, but possible. So maybe if he conjures up another one, but smaller—
A sudden hammering knock at his door startles Logan from his thoughts. “Logan, Patton is making cake and he wants to know if you want any. Do you want any? Logan? Are you listening to me? Do you have headphones on? Are you listening to that silly piano guy again? What’s his name? Bait oven? Whatever. That’s nerd stuff. But hey—hey, Logan. Logan, do you want any cak—”
Letting his breath out in an enormous whoosh, Logan crosses to the door and opens it to reveal Roman. “No, I do not want cake, and for your information, it’s Beethoven, and he’s not just a piano guy, he was one of the most important and influential composers of the—”
“What’s that?” Roman peers curiously over his shoulder.
“It’s a box.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious. I meant why do you have a box?”
“If you meant ‘why do you have a box?’ then why didn’t you just say ‘why do you have a box?’ instead of ‘what’s that?’ Really, your communication ability leaves something to be desired. It—”
Roman waves him off. “Quit deflecting. If you don’t wanna say, don’t say.”
Logan pauses and frowns. Deflecting? He’s not deflecting. He’s merely attempting to eradicate Roman’s ignorance (an everlasting and thankless job) but, well, he supposes he is avoiding the question. And why? It’s not like the box has to be a secret. Secrets are irrational.
Still, he wishes that maybe, just this once, he could’ve done something nice for someone without help. It seems as though he always needs help to be kind, and he dislikes it—extremely.
Looking back at his bare, empty little box however, he knows that perhaps (the facts have added up, over the years) he simply cannot be kind on his own. Certainly he can try, but he must be missing something—some essential thing that the other three have, a thing that enables them to create and love and protect.
Something better than mere intelligence.
“It’s a comfort box for Virgil,” Logan says, sighing. He’s not selfish enough to try to do something on his own when the blatant fact that he can’t is clear. His box isn’t good enough for Virgil, but maybe with Roman’s help, and perhaps Patton’s, it can be.
“A comfort box. It’s supposed to soothe feelings of anxiety by stimulating the senses and allowing an individual to distract themselves, although I’ve no idea how accurate that statement is, as I’ve yet to test it myself.”
“The box does that?”
“Well, more specifically, the contents of the box. You can look, if you want.”
Roman goes to sit on Logan’s bed, picking the box up and rifling through it—although he is, Logan is pleased to notice, putting everything back where it belongs once he’s examined it. “This is cool,” he says. “A little minimalist, but—”
“Yes, exactly, that’s the problem,” Logan says. “So you should help me.”
“Help you what?”
“Fix the box.”
“I mean, there’s really nothing to fix.”
Logan stares pointedly at the box in Roman’s arms, plain and unassuming and minimalist. “That was sarcasm, correct?”
“No, I’m serious. I think it’s really—”
“Can’t you just—oh, I don’t know, add something?”
Roman snorts. “If you insist. First things first—we’re looking for comforting things, right? Like self-care stuff?”
“That sounds adequate, yes.”
“Great. In that case—” Roman twirls his hand and an array of items materialize on Logan’s bed. There are bath bombs (lavender and lemon and mint, if Logan is recognizing the colors correctly) along with vanilla-scented lotion, small candles in a variety of soothing scents, and a bar of milk chocolate. “How’s that?”
Logan stacks the items neatly into the box, and now it’s more than halfway full. “Good,” he says. “Thank you.”
“Oh, wait—one more thing.” Roman conjures up a coloring book of intricate patterns and a box of colored pencils. “Here. And then maybe we could put something on the outside of the box, too.”
“Hm, that’s—not a bad idea, actually.”
“Okay, here. Take this and draw something on that side. I’ll work on this one.”
“Like what?” Logan asks, critically examining the navy marker that Roman hands him.
“I dunno, math equations or something, whatever. Just make it seem like you.”
Logan does not think that he is very comforting, and thus nothing he makes will be, but he’s willing to entertain the idea if it’s Roman’s. Despite the fact that many of Roman’s ideas are completely ridiculous, the few that aren’t are often impeccable. After a long moment of contemplation, Logan sketches a graph on his side of the box and plots a lemniscate on it.
“Oh, that’s cute,” Roman says, when he finishes his side—it’s an intricate picture of himself in a crown. Well, it’s the thought that counts, Logan supposes. “An infinity sign.”
“What language is that?”
“English,” Logan says, baffled. “The shape is called a lemniscate.”
“No, that’s an infinity sign.”
“Perhaps in the common vernacular it can be addressed as such, but its true name is lemniscate.”
Roman holds his hands up. “Okay, okay, fine. Your box, your weird lemniscate.”
Logan nods, satisfied, and hands his marker back to Roman. “Very well. Thank you. Go and fetch Patton now, please.”
“You don’t think that’s suspicious?”
“Why would it be suspicious?”
“This is Virgil we’re talking about. Everything is suspicious to him. I was supposed to come down, like, ten minutes ago, and now I’m sending Patton up to your room? Sounds sketch.”
Logan waves him off. “Let it be sketch, then, just don’t let him come up here.”
“You got it.”
Roman slips out of his room, and Patton comes bounding in not two minutes later. “Heya, Teach, what’s up?” he asks.
“I need you to help me with this box.”
“You need my help? Oh, golly gee willikers, I thought this day would never come.”
“Yes, yes, enough gloating. It’s a comfort box for Virgil, so put comforting things inside of it, please.”
“Oh my goodness that is such a cute idea—you’re just the nicest guy, Lo—”
Logan shakes his head—he’s not nice or he would’ve been able to do this by himself. All he can do is nudge the others in the right direction. They’re the ones that actually do the nice thing. “Come on, before Virgil decides to come and investigate what we’re doing.”
Into the box Patton puts bubble wrap, stickers, a small stuffed dog, a fluffy black blanket, and a glitter jar that even Logan concedes looks fascinating when it’s shaken. On his side of the box he draws hearts and stars, puppies and kittens, and a large smiley face. “There,” he says, once he’s done. “How’s that?”
Logan looks contemplatively at it. One side of the box is still plain, but perhaps Virgil can color on it to make it more his. It’s quite full now, too, and Logan feels something untwist in his chest. He has done a good thing—albeit not alone (he can never do good things alone) but the point remains. “It’s adequate,” he says. “Thank you.”
“No problem, sweetheart. Do you want me to go get Virgil?”
Logan hesitates—but he doubts he can make the box any better than it is. If Roman and Patton are finished with it, then there’s nothing more for him to contribute. “Yes, please.”
Patton practically skips down the hall, calling, “Virgil, Virgil, Logan has a surprise for you, you’re gonna love it, c’mere c’mere c’mere—”
Virgil appears grudgingly in his doorway several seconds later, flanked by a bright-eyed Roman, and a Patton who is nearly trembling with excitement. Before he can speak, Logan holds the box out to him. “What’s that?” Virgil asks, making no move to take it.
“It’s a comfort box,” Logan says. He doesn’t meet Virgil’s eyes, but it’s not because he’s scared, of all things. It’s only—only, well, he really hopes he hasn’t overstepped his boundaries and made Virgil embarrassed or made himself look like a fool or—
“A what?” Virgil says, accepting the box from Logan and setting it on the desk to open.
“A comfort box. It’s supposed to help with feelings of anxiety by—” Logan stops, his words momentarily rendered unimportant upon seeing Virgil’s face as he begins looking through the box. Logan, having studied body language quite intently during Thomas’ acting lessons, thinks that his expression hovers somewhere between wondering and stunned.
“This is for me?” Virgil asks quietly.
“Yes,” Logan says. “Do you…like it?”
The smile that Virgil bestows upon him then is one of his rarest—bright and open and adoring, his eyes crinkled at the corners and dimples showing. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I like it just a little bit.”
Patton squeals and wraps Virgil up in a joyful hug. “Oh, I’m so glad. You deserve it, kiddo.”
“I, too, am pleased that you find our labor of love to be satisfactory,” Roman says, straightening his shoulders a tad arrogantly, Logan thinks.
“It was Logan’s idea,” Patton says. “Isn’t he just the sweetest thing, oh my goodness—c’mere, Lo, pretty please.”
Logan crosses the room to stand before Virgil, back straight and eyes averted. Patton latches onto his arm and does his emotions thing, nuzzling his face against Logan’s and making happy sounds. “It was nothing, really. I merely found the idea on Tumblr—”
“You’re on Tumblr?” Virgil asks, startled.
“Never mind that. I gave the others the idea—which, mind you, was not technically mine in the first place—and they did most of the work. Patton is over-exaggerating the role that I played, but I do find myself pleased that you enjoy it.”
“Patton? Over-exaggerate? Why, always,” Roman says. “However, inexplicably enough, not this time. It was Logan who motivated us to make the box—although I shall take credit where credit is due and say that I clearly drew the best picture.”
“Thank you, Lo,” Virgil says, and when Logan finally meets his eyes they’re wide and unbearably fond.
“I didn’t do all the work,” Logan protests, glancing away again. “It was primarily Patton and Roman. I merely gave them direction, as per usual.”
“Hey, come over here.” Virgil holds an arm out and Logan slides under it, fitting himself to Virgil’s side. At least this way Virgil won’t try to catch his gaze anymore. “I know you didn’t do everything—and thank you, Patton, Roman, very much. But you are the one who gave them direction, Logan, so don’t think any less of yourself for that.”
“But that doesn’t matter,” Logan says, his frustration with—with himself, with this whole ordeal, finally boiling over. “Anyone could have seen the post on Tumblr, anyone could have said ‘why don’t we make a comfort box for Virgil?’ and it would have been just as well constructed without my help. It may even have been better. When it comes to doing nice things, that’s not—that’s not me. That’s them. I just tell them what to do. They’re the ones who get it done.”
The other three fall completely silent. Patton and Roman both fix him with shocked gazes and Virgil’s arm drops off of his shoulders. For a moment, vulnerability is a quivering and terrified thing in the center of Logan’s chest. He shouldn’t have said that. He should be celebrating the gift they’ve given Virgil, not complaining about what he can and cannot do. That was self-centered. He’ll have to apologize. Patton says apologies are polite and necessary if you’ve done something wrong. So—
“I’m sorry,” Logan says. “That was a poorly-timed outburst. Please disregard—”
“No,” Virgil says, and suddenly his arms are back around Logan, pulling him into a tight embrace. “No way in hell am I disregarding that.”
“Oh, honey,” Patton says, stepping closer and running his fingers through Logan’s hair. “Of course you can do things by yourself.”
“Yes, I am aware of that,” Logan says, his voice muffled by confusion and Virgil’s shoulder. “But I cannot do anything good by myself.”
Roman takes one of his hands, unlatching it from its death grip on Virgil’s hoodie (when had he begun to clutch that?) and lacing their fingers together. “You certainly can. Whatever makes you think otherwise?”
“Now is not an appropriate time for such introspection. We should be allowing Virgil to examine and appreciate his box, or at least—”
“Now is the perfect time for such introspection,” Virgil says, fingers scratching gently over his spine. A shiver twists its way through Logan as he does. “You’re more important than fussing about a box—however lovely that box may be. So—what makes you think you can’t do anything good alone?”
Logan sighs and relents—his boyfriends, whilst endearing, are also hellishly stubborn. (And oh, how he wishes he could believe them. Maybe, technically, they are right, and he can do good things by himself, but—but he just doesn’t know how, and that’s the whole problem, isn’t it?) “I was going to make the box alone, at first, but I wasn’t creative or emotional enough to obtain a satisfactory end product. It’s the same with most everything I do. Certainly, I can do some things—many things—but they will never be as nice as they could be when I have all of your help.”
“But that’s the same for all of us,” Patton says. “We can all make things on our own, but they’ll never be as good as they are when we work together.”
“I know, but—you see, the things that you and Roman and Virgil create alone will always be better than what I create alone. Patton, the things you make are full of—of love or joy or sadness, and they’re always brilliant. They have the ability to move others emotionally.”
“And what Roman creates is always, naturally, creative. He’s an artist, that’s what he does, and he does it well. He can create something out of nothing, and it’s rather incredible.”
“True,” Roman says, “and thank you. But—”
“And Virgil, the things he creates are—well, negative, yes, but they manage to be both creative and emotional. Some of the things he thinks up terrify me, and I, rationally, know that they are not real and cannot harm me.”
“Thank you, I think?” Virgil says.
“But the things I create are—are boring,” Logan says, hunching his shoulders. “There’s nothing admirable about them, save perhaps that they can be useful, from time to time, and encourage the three of you to do something even better.”
“Logan, you—hey, look at us, please,” Roman says, and Logan reluctantly lifts his face from the safety of Virgil’s shoulder. “The stuff you create is awesome. Like patterns! I use patterns all the time when I’m creating things, but I wouldn’t be able to use them without you. Like—like you literally made an infinity sign out of a mathematical equation.”
Logan glances at the box and his lemnsicate—boring, plain, unnecessarily complex. “I’m glad you like them, but—”
“And routines,” Virgil adds. “You make routines that work for us, which helps me feel a lot better. It’s comforting. You’re comforting.”
Well—well, perhaps that’s one way to look at it. (Another is that he’s a control freak.) “I’m happy that you think so, although—”
“And body language,” Patton says. “The way you understand what people are feeling just by analyzing how they stand, or how they move, it’s fantastic—and it’s really helpful when I’m trying to decide how to respond.”
Maybe. “Okay, so I may possibly—”
“There’s no possibly about it,” Roman says. “The things you create alone are just as good as any of the things the rest of us do. Okay?”
Logan drops his head and sighs into Virgil’s shoulder.
“Logan, okay?” Roman says, cupping the back of Logan’s neck. “Understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” Logan says—and he does understand. Even if he does not believe it, he understands what they’re saying, and maybe—maybe they’re right. Maybe. “Maybe you are correct.”
“I know we are,” Roman says.
“You’re wonderful with us or on your own, sweetheart,” Patton says, pressing a kiss to Logan’s temple.
“And Logan?” Virgil says.
“Thank you. I really like the box. The infinity sign is a nice touch.”
“It’s a lemniscate.”
“The shape is called a lemniscate.”
Virgil laughs and brings a hand up to cup the back of Logan’s head, ruffling his hair. “Okay. I really like your lemniscate.”
A smile tugs at Logan’s mouth, although he’s careful to keep it hidden against Virgil’s hoodie. “Thank you. I—I like it too, I think.”
“Good.” Virgil pulls back enough to give him a crooked smile. “You should.”
“I hate to interrupt this emotional moment,” Roman says, glancing towards the doorway, “but does anyone else smell something burning?”
Logan pauses, sniffing the air and yes, that smells like smoke. “Oh. Was it—perhaps—Patton, did you ever take your cake out of the oven?”
Patton freezes for only a moment, his eyes widening in horror—and then he bolts for the stairs, shrieking, “My cake!”
It’s been 3 months since you broke up with Bucky, it’s been 3 months since he moved out of your shared apartment and it’ been 3 months since you haven’t slept or eaten well. You don’t know how this happened, one day you two were happy, making plans for the future and the next one you were screaming for him to get out of your life.
You miss him every day, you miss talking to him about your day to day life, you miss cuddling to him every night and having that feeling that you are safe. More importantly, you miss knowing that he is happy and safe and if you could turn back time, you would, and you wish you never had that stupid fight.
That is the problem with loving people; you are always going to end up being hurt and you are always going to hurt them as much as you don’t want that, it is unavoidable. You take a deep breath looking at the phone like you do every night, you just need to gather the courage to talk to him, say that you are sorry and that you miss him.