Summary: Virgil’s jacket has had been making a habit out of disappearing lately, Virgil finally decides to investigate.
Virgil’s room was a mess. Well, more of a mess than usual. For the last hour he’d been tearing the place apart looking for his hoodie. He knew he’d tossed it over one of the chairs he had in his room, he always put it there. When he woke up though, it was nowhere to be found. This wasn’t the first time either, there had been several times where he found himself in this exact situation. He’d wake up without his jacket and some random point in the day it would show up again. He was tired of it.
Most days it wouldn’t bother him, he’d gone around the mindscape without his hoodie plenty of times. Today though, today was one of those days where he needed the extra security. He was more on edge than usual and the jacket was another layer to hide behind.
ao3: “it goes swish swish” rating: T genre: fluff warnings: analogical, food description: Virgil goes grocery shopping with his boyfriend. (day 3 prompts: jacket/jam, @analogicalweek)
Today is grocery day.
Logan has written a list, and Virgil’s checked it twice (and stealthily added more than one unhealthy and/or sugary thing to it before Logan crossed it out in pen and said “it isn’t healthy, Virgil” and Virgil said “that’s the point”).
Virgil bounces on his toes, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie as he waits for Logan to be ready. He likes spending time with Logan however he can get it, and grocery shopping day feels like their own personal bubble. Plus, this time is special.
Summary: The almost nightly visits from one regular customer, was one of the only things Virgil was looking forward to anymore during his shifts at the convenience store. Though for his co-worker Remus, it had become agonizing to bare witness to his friend’s neverending pining without taking the step to ask him out.
“C’mon Vee, you practically have no excuses anymore!”
Virgil consciously decided not to respond, and instead blew a strand of his hair out of the way that was waving in front of his eyes. He pathetically failed by the way, which only drew more of his blabbermouth of a colleague’s attention towards him. What did it take for him to just restock the Mars bars sold on the counter in peace? Virgil should be awarded employee of the month for putting up with -
“E-Vee-nescence, ya listening?” Just when he finished rearranging the snack bars to make them look somewhat more presentable to customers than its employees were, Virgil felt a nail pricking into his left cheek. “Beevee, e-boy, Gerard Gay-”
“Remus, for fuck’s sake!” Virgil snapped way louder than he meant to. He could count himself lucky there weren’t any customers this time of night, or he’d truly want to sink out into the floor and never see the light of day again. But for now, for Remus to truly get off his back, he’d have to face him.
His face still flushed red from yelling, Virgil slapped Remus’ hand away from his cheek and sharply turned his head to his left. There Remus was, hand in his chin while leaning on the counter, eyes twinkling and grinning without a care in the world. Sporadically, Virgil caught himself wishing he’d have his confidence and just not give a shit about other people’s opinions. About whether his hair looked like a mess, like Remus’ for example, now that his undercut and green highlights were starting to grow out.
“I’m just sayin’, all this pining you’re doing gets insufferably boring after two weeks,” Remus said while unabashedly wringing his finger past his septum piercing to pick his nose. Virgil wouldn’t put it past him to have boogers sticking all over his mustache, at this rate.
“I’m… building up courage,” Virgil mumbled, straightening out his ugly orange uniform. He glanced around the small boxed convenience store, lucky not to find any new people wandering around yet. “Because, you know, he’s obviously gonna reject me.”
A sequel piece to Medicated (I would suggest reading that first)
Word Count: 1572
Rating: Gen
Paring: platonic DLAMPR
Warnings: talk of anxiety disorders and anxiety medication, oh and Remus falls down the stairs on purpose
No angst, only fluff.
Stop using Virgil angst to demonize anxiety medication (or any medication) 2k22
~~~START~~~
Virgil had been distant recently. Patton couldn’t blame him, of course, Thomas starting on anxiety meds must have been hard on him; but that was all the more reason to reach out, to make sure his kiddo knew that he — that everyone — was here for him.
Patton knocked on Virgil’s door just after lunch — Virgil had declined coming to breakfast and lunch when Patton had tried earlier, but he was hopeful this time. After a minute without a reply, he knocked again. He was about to knock a third time when the door opened a couple of inches. Virgil peered out through the opening.
“Hi kiddo!” Patton greeted brightly; this was the first time Virgil had opened the door today, it was a good sign.
Stede is sitting at the dinner table. Being back on the Revenge is new, still, Ed, at the other side of the table is poking around in his dinner with disdain. Stede doesn’t know what to say, how to approach him, but he knows he has to.
He feels powerless; sitting here, at the head of a table, far removed from someone he cares about, is familiar. Very familiar, in a very literal sense. Stede thinks back to his wife… his former wife, and their children.
As distraught as Stede might be about leaving them after finally getting to know them, he does not regret it. He knows that Mary will look out for their children - little Mary and little Stede - and that she will have Doug at her side. The two of them are good together and Stede is happy for them.
The children will be fine.
The dinner plate in front of Stede is cooling down, potatoes becoming stale and the greens seem to fade away, shrinking down into a mass of leaves and bits, and even though Stede was hungry before, his appetite has since taken its leave.
Book: The Royal Heir Book 1 (with several divergences)
Pairing: None. Mostly a mother-son series between Eleanor and young Liam. Features some characters from the Eleanor-Constantine generation of Cordonian nobility.
Synopsis: Ever since she became Queen, Eleanor has found herself missing the comfort and excitement of her own cooking. She may love the fare that the very talented palace chefs regularly conjure, but nothing beats the joy of kneading with her own hands, or watching the simplest ingredients transform into the most decadent delights known to humankind.
Her younger son, Prince Liam, joins in these culinary adventures and learns something new about his mother each time.
Join Liam as he watches his mother, and her friends, experience the foods that remind them the most of their homes, and enjoys the delights of good food and great friendships.
Summary: Rayla spends Callum’s birthday coming to terms with her decision to find Viren without him. (prompt from @nothingmorethanageminiboar, fic takes place between pg. 117/118 of through the moon)
Rayla was leaving.
She was leaving, and she’d known it since the moment they’d been hauled out of the water.
Callum had lunged for her as soon as they were solidly on dry land, squeezing the breath she’d barely caught right back out of her chest.
“I couldn’t lose you,” he said, arms thrown over her shoulders, dripping wet hair pressed close against her cheek, and Rayla had frozen there, mid-embrace, the familiar pain of nearly losing him shifted sharply into focus.
