Clyde was anxiously sitting in his trashy car in front of the bank. He wasn’t too sure of the thing he was about to do. But he needed the money and he couldn’t crash at Remy’s place forever.
Checking his face in the rearview mirror again, he gladly noted that the makeup still hid his scales that seemed to like to appear more often on his face than anywhere else now. He also let his hair grow out quite a bit to hide them a little behind bangs that fell over the left side of his face. By now he nearly looked like an emo. Working with that style, he wore a gray scarf that hid the scales that had appeared on his neck as well.
Looking down on himself he wondered if his yellow shirt and black leather jacket were casual enough.
Yeah, probably. He was thinking too hard about this. Or not hard enough.
Breathing in through his nose and letting the air slowly out through slightly parted lips, he got out of his car. He could see his breath in the air in front of him. It has gotten pretty cold since he left his parents with the most valued things he had, including his pet snake, a few weeks ago.
With a faked confident walk as he squared his shoulders, he got closer to the glass door and stepped into the building.
He was extremely lucky, there were only three other people inside. Two women who worked there as the tellers and one man who was talking to the woman on the left, so Clyde went to the other teller on the right.
“Hello, sir. What can I help you with, today?” the brunette in the white blouse asked with a sweet smile.
Clyde put on as much charm as he could muster as he smiled back. “Hello there, I hope you’re having a lovely day. I’m here to make a withdrawal.”
He was good at pretending to be a more likable person than he actually was. He always wanted to be an actor, but never went to any auditions for school plays because of his social status as one of the “cool kids” that smoked and drank alcohol behind the school. The entire thing was an act in his school days, but he was good at adapting to change.
“Very well, your name sir?”
“Oh, no.” He chuckled “I was under the impression that you just wanted to give it to me,” his smile widened a little.
The woman gave him an amused sound, taking it as a joke. Out of the corner of his eye, Clyde could see the other man leaving the bank. It was just him and the two tellers alone, now.
“Good one, sir, but this would be easier with a name,” The woman spoke with a chuckle. The other teller woman went into a back door and slipped away for the moment. Perfect.
“Well if you want to call me something, I think you could just go with Deceit,” He spoke with a calmness he wouldn’t have thought he could muster at this moment. He felt his hands shaking and start to sweat as he held down his nervousness.
The woman’s smile faltered a little. “Excuse me?”
Clyde looked back over her shoulder to make sure the other girl was really gone. Then, he looked back into the sweet face in front of him which got more confused by the second.
The perfect opportunity.
He looked in her deep blue eyes.
“You wanted to giveme $50,000, right? That’s why I’m here.”
His left eye shimmered and glowed with a light yellow and he noticed the familiar sensation of an itch on his left forearm.
He still looked at the woman who stared back with a face he couldn’t quite put into place. It was nearly blank but still a little puzzled at his words.
That happened every time but he always felt the nervousness at that moment again and again. A million thoughts rushed into his head, like what if it didn’t work (again) or what if he phrased it wrong? Happens to the best, and this scenario was new to him.
This was the first time he did something really bad. Usually, he used his powers to get out of trouble for smaller things or to get free booze, but stealing $50,000 directly out of a bank, in bright daylight? That was insanity!
He had felt a weird sensation in his gut since he began ‘planning’ this. Honestly, this whole ‘rob a bank’ thing was an idea he and Remy had the night before while they were balls drunk in the basement of Rem’s parents. His parents that had no clue Clyde was even hiding there.
Rem was two years younger than him but was a pretty chill dude he had hung out with in school. He was the only one he could count on that wouldn’t snitch him out to anyone about his powers and where he was, because, well, he had powers too. Powers Remy’s parents weren’t very fond of, so they generally stayed away from the cellar.
The woman blinked as she awoke from a daze. The moment surely wasn’t longer than a second, but to Clyde, it felt like years.
The brunette locked eyes with him again and put her smile from the beginning back on.
“Of course, I remember now. It will only be a second, Mr. Deceit.”
——–
“Fuck! I did it!”
Clyde opened the basement door so fast he nearly broke it out of the old, rusty hinges. A very startled Remy, who looked like he had just been woken up, fought his way out of the blanket that had been lying on him.
He had been sleeping on his disgusting makeshift bed, which was made of just two stacked mattresses on top of the cold concrete ground. The basement looked like it should have been finished years ago but no one ever bothered to finish the job. At night, they took one of the mattresses off and slid it onto the floor next to the other so that Clyde didn’t have to sleep out on the bean bag. They had tried that the first night, but it resulted in a stiff back and a very grumpy Clyde in the morning.
Clyde– er, Deceit moved a few steps forward, to click on the floor lamp that only had an old light bulb screwed on top and no lamp shade. The lightbulb was a normal, fluorescent bulb which somehow exclusively produced greenish light. Clyde had asked about that the second day he had stayed here but Remy too didn’t exactly know why either, not that he cared.
With the light, the messy room had become a little more visible. It was even dirtier than Clyde’s old room had been, especially since he had moved in. They both didn’t really care enough to clean all the filthy clothes of the ground except when they ran out of fresh clothes, in which case Remy had to go upstairs with a decent sized pile that was unsuspicious to his parents since they didn’t have to know about Clyde’s existence in Remy’s room.
If they found out about the other kid with powers in their basement? That would mean massive trouble for both of them.
Remy’s guardians were already not on best terms with their son since he had intruded their dreams by accident on more than one occasion. They didn’t hate him but Remy had sometimes messed up their sleep so much that they were first confused what was happening, then they screamed at him to stop and at last, they started to get him out of the way.
He was ok with that. He was just in his basement room, enjoying his life without the worry that his parents would storm in.
But if they knew that he invited someone else to live at their house without their knowledge, they would be very mad. They would probably scream at him again and would call Clyde’s parents, even though he was actually old enough to live on his own, as a 19-year-old. Clyde just didn’t have the money to live on his own. He had been fired a few months ago from his job at the pet shop.
He had to leave his home weeks ago in order to hide his powers from his family as the scales became more and more obvious, so he came to the only one he knew that would at least understand.
It wasn’t much fun sleeping next to someone who had the ability to go into your dreams whenever both of them slept at the same time. Rem didn’t do it on purpose of course, the closer you sleep next to him the more likely it is that he just stumbles into your dream by accident. That’s why he had to sleep in the basement, while his parents slept on the third floor. They simply wanted him as far away at night as possible.
What the two did all day now was lying around in the dirty cellar on the green bean bag and the mattresses and talked about everything and nothing. Somedays they played games on the old arcade machine Remy had or they had matches on his kicker, all while smoking pot or drinking beer Clyde brought back every time he went out.
But not this time. This time he brought something better. Money. And lots of it.
Remy tried focusing on the guy with the weird scales in front of him as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, “Wha-?”
Deceit ripped away the blanket and threw a full plastic bag him. It hit him in the chest, where you could read ‘Never SLEEP again’ on a gray shirt, and caused him to lay down again with the bag sitting on top of him.
“I said I did it! I actually did it, I stole the money!” Deceit stood proudly next to the ‘bed’, hands on his hips, with the broadest smile Remy had ever seen on the guy. It kinda creeped him out, to be honest.
Then the bank robber turned around into the direction of the old foosball table and lifted his arm triumphantly into the air and tilted his head back so he looked at the ceiling.
“Oh my god! I feel great! This was way better than drugs!” he screamed in euphoria.
Remy leaned up on his elbow and let the bag fall next to him on the bed.
“Flippin’ shut up, man! You’re gonna wake the whole street shoutin’ like that.”
Deceit turned his head back to his friend, puzzled.
“It’s 5 in the afternoon?”
“Oh really? I’m up early,” the sleepy head grinned.
Deceit made a face at him that could only have meant ‘you fu**king serious?’
Rem’s eyes fell on the plastic bag next to him. With one hand he lifted a handle and looked inside. His eyes widened, only now had he realized what Deceit had actually done. He shot up straight on the mattress and put the bag on the ground so he could take a bundle of hundred dollar notes out. He ran a finger across the stop slowly as the reality of the situation began to sink in.
“Jesus Christ, you actually did it?!” he looked up shocked at the criminal who now faced him again. With the head movement, the green shade sunglasses that had apparently been lying on his purple dyed and messy hair the whole time he slept, fell onto his nose.
“Hell yeah, I did! And it was so easy too! Like stealing a lolly from a baby.”
The seventeen-year-old sitting on the mattresses gathered himself enough to get a little of his sass back.
“Cliché.” He looked back down to the pile of money. “Jeez, how much even is this?”
“50,000 bugs,” Dee’s eyes sparkled saying that.
“Holy shit. Holy shit, I can’t believe it! I thought we were just joking around yesterday! We were drunk for fucks sake!”
Remy would have never thought that Clyde would actually do something this incredibly stupid. They just talked like idiots about how they could have anything they wanted if they used their powers more, not that he ever actually considered doing so.
“Come on, just imagine what we can do with that much money!” Deceit stepped closer to him, gesturing with his hands.
“With the stolen money.”
“No one knows that!”
“Babe, don’t you think 50k will be missed? Where did you even get that from? The bank like we said?” he took his shades with his forefinger and thumb on the rim of the glasses and slid them down a bit so he could look into Deceit’s eyes.
“Yeah and no, no one knows I took the money. I made sure the woman was the only one there and I just made her give it to me.”
“50k in cash. Someone will miss that! They’re going to notice that much missing! Did you think of the cameras?” Rem’s eyebrows furrowed as he put his shades back on properly.
“I do not like to repeat myself. She just handed it to me! It looks completely innocent on camera. And as far as she knows, that money belongs to me.”
Deceit got frustrated with his friend. Just the night before he also loved the idea and now he was lecturing him?!
“You can’t keep the money here, babe. I’m not ok with that much stolen cash under my roof!”
“It will be gone soon anyway.” He tried again to reason. This was a good thing, why couldn’t he see it?
“You need to leave,” The voice sounded monotone.
Deceit’s shoulders fell. “What?”
“Clyde, sweetie, don’t get me wrong. I’m totally up for all kinds of stupid shit but that’s a bit too far man and I really don’t want to get in trouble because of you.”
“So, you’re throwing me out?”
“You have enough money to rent a hotel room,” he said gesturing to the bag at his feet.
Deceit looked with disbelief into the green-tinted sunglasses that hid Remy’s emotions pretty well.
How could he just throw him out? He thought the other would be happy about the money. He would have even shared it with him for letting him stay here, but now…
He growled “Fine. I’ll leave. I don’t need you anymore anyway. I can do whatever I want without you. Just don’t come crawling back to me when I’m ruling the city.”
“Sure thing rip-off Disney villain.”
“You’ve seen the last of me.”
With that Deceit took his luggage, bound the bag of money to it and lifted a small terrarium with Terrence in it under his arm and left the basement.
Remy let out a shaky breath into the stifling air of his room.
For a second there, he had been afraid that Clyde- no, Deceitwould use his powers on him.
AU Summary:A fall. A single fall. It may seem like nothing until it’s all consuming. What happens when the doctors struggle to diagnosis the disease responsible for Virgil’s rapid deterioration?
Characters:Virgil, Logan, Patton, Roman, and very brief mention of Sympathetic!Deceit and Remy.
Pairings: Logince & Moxiety
Warnings:Discussion of anatomy and very brief, sympathetic deceit.
Virgil’s fingers curled around the stiff fabric resting in his palms as he meandered towards the white door frame. Twisting the iron knob as he went and shutting the heavy door behind him, Virgil pressed his back against the wooden plank, eyes fixed on the gown in his tight clutch.
One breath. Two breaths. By the third breath, Virgil had rested the white fabric across the sink’s rounded edge before slowly discarding his ebony attire beside the gown. With his attire stowed precariously on the sink, Virgil reached for the dotted, white hospital gown.
With the loose-fitted gown lightly brushing against his knees, Virgil noticed an abrupt tremble in his hands. To steady his shaking grasp, he clung to the upper edges of the bathroom sink as his gaze became transfixed on the mirror. His scanning eyes discerned the dangling of his bangs over charcoal eye shadow, his lips curled into a pout, and the oscillatory movements of his hands.
Grumbling, he let his grip falter from the sink and head hang low. He needed a moment. He needed a moment before seizing his clothes and emerging into his hospital suite. Frowning, Virgil shifted as his fingers trembled above the door knob. Twisting the knob and letting the door creak open meant that there really was something wrong with him.
“Mr. Poole?” A soft knock vibrated against the wooden frame.
“Oh- uh, yeah. Sorry,” snapping out of it, Virgil yanked open the door.
“I was going to assess some of your motor and sensory skills,” Logan allowed Virgil to pass him and perch cross-legged on the bed’s edge, but Virgil’s twitchy hands didn’t allude him.
“Go ahead, doc.”
“I’m going to start by testing your reflexes with a patellar reflex test, but I’m going to need you to situate your legs so that they’re dangling over the edge of the bed,” Logan slid his fingers into a set of thin, cyan gloves.
Virgil huffed, untangling his legs, and letting his feet hang.
With gloved digits, Logan skimmed his cold fingertips across Virgil’s lower leg in search for the band of tissue extending down from the patella. A few more calculating touches under Virgil’s shin, and Logan identified the patellar tendon and femoral nerve. And with a short reflex hammer, Logan struck the tendon…. Virgil’s muscles convulsed.
“Clonus,” Logan noted, scribbling the result onto a plastic clipboard in raven ink, “let’s try testing your musculocutaneous nerve.”
“Could you flex at the elbow for me?” Logan requested as a means to identify Virgil’s bicep tendon.
Virgil nodded, complying as Logan watched and palpated the antecubital fossa.
“You can relax your arm now,” Logan attentively took Virgil’s arm into his grasp with his thumb over the tendon to strike with the reflex hammer. Again, more contractions.
“Is that normal?” Virgil wore a half-frown.
“Well, no-,” Logan paused, laying his pen across his clipboard, “a normal reaction generates an easily observed shortening of the muscle. In your case, your muscles repetitively shortened after a single stimulation, which suggests that a pathologic process is affecting peripheral nerves that results in a reflex that is abnormal.”
“…huh?”
“Your muscles convulsed, which suggests there is condition affecting your nerves, but with hand tremors present, that was to be expected.”
“Any idea what it is yet?”
“Without more testing it’s hard to say, but I postulate the issue lies within your upper motor neurons. These are the neurons that carry motor information down the spinal cord to the lower motor neurons. The information that is sent from these neurons to the lower motor neurons signals muscles to contract, thus they are the source of voluntary movement. Increased muscle tone, reflexes, and weakness would all point to lesions on your upper motor neurons, but without more testing, we cannot be sure.”
“I see.”
“Speaking of such testing, I’m going to begin evaluating your muscle tone and then your gait.”
Virgil nodded, glance cast to the side.
“To start, I’m going to need you to relax for me again,” Logan clinically solicited.
To begin testing Virgil’s upper extremity muscle tone, Logan passively rolled the joints in Virgil’s wrist and upper arm to test for rigidity. Finding some resistance, Logan apacely scrawled it onto Virgil’s charts.
“Could you lie flat on your back now?”
“Uh, sure,” Virgil swung his legs over the mattress as he slanted back.
“Now, I’m going to need you to relax,” Logan repeated, pressing his palm above Virgil’s bare ankle. Moving to Virgil’s lower leg, Logan slipped his palm under his patient’s relaxed knee to suddenly bend the shin to test lower extremity muscle tone. More resistance.
“Hmm,” Logan nodded mostly to himself, “to test your gait, I’m going to need you to walk away from me and then back towards me.”
“Okay..,” Virgil sat up, shifting his frame so his feet brushed against the tile floor.
Planting his feet on the ground, Virgil strolled from the bed to the farthest wall before ambling back in the direction of the doctor. And during this process, Logan took note of Virgil’s stance, stability, and leg stiffness. He watched Virgil’s leg swings and arm swings observantly. His eyes inspected Virgil’s degree of knee bending and his rate and speed only to note a decreased left arm swing.
“Unsteady gait,” Logan jotted down.
“I take it that’s bad?” Virgil plopped back onto the bed, picking at his black nail polish.
“It just means a walking abnormality is present.”
“And?”
“And that could be caused by underlying conditions or injuries.”
“Does that mean it could be something like Parkinson’s disease?” Virgil’s heart rate quickened.
“It’s possible,” Logan admitted, “but we just can’t be sure with the little testing we’ve done.”
“My blood test can help though, right? That’s what you said earlier.”
“It’ll help us determine a diagnosis, but it’s likely the storm will delay it a couple days,” Logan glanced at Virgil apologetically, but it came off mechanically, “Anyhow, it seems optimal to take a short break from testing now.”
Collecting up his clipboard, Logan stood in the door frame, “And in the meantime, a nurse will periodically check up on you.”
“Okay…,” Virgil sighed.
With Virgil taken care of, Logan strode down the long, achromatic hallway with his clipboard pressed up against his chest and his framed eyes fixed on the nurse’s station. His shoes squeaking against newly polished floors captured the attention of patients and doctors alike. And as he passed Dr. Whittaker reviewing a patient’s extensive charts, Logan offered him a polite smile.
Now standing over the cubed nurse’s station, Logan watched as Patton’s fingers built a bridge between words, “Salutations, Patton.”
Tearing his gaze from the new monitor, Patton grinned, “Hello, Logan.”
“I’d appreciate it if you could check up on Virgil Poole for me before your shift ends in a couple hours. Maybe take a neurological history for me?” Logan didn’t waste time with idle chatter.
“Sure thing,” Patton’s eyes and nose crinkled, “I’ll pay him a visit.”
“Thanks Pat- …Oh, Great,” Logan frowned, turning on his heel at the mere sight of Dr. Wilson’s poised approach.
“Trying to avoid me, spectacles?” Dr. Wilson tsk’d.
“Attempting to,” Logan muttered under his breath.
Feigning an offended gasp, Dr. Wilson placed his palm over his chest.
“But you adore our little chats, Lo,” he purred, inching close enough to Logan to count the careless stippling of freckles across his cheeks.
“How are you, Roman?” Patton kindly interjected, fingers resting atop black keys.
Flustered, Logan glanced down and away. He didn’t deny it.
“Much better now that Lo’s back,” Roman grinned wide like a Cheshire cat.
“I was only gone a week.”
“And a terrible week it was.”
—
Virgil peered out the frosted-over window through slats in the flimsy blinds, watching as specks of snow colored the road in ivory as the chilly air of the ceiling vent caressed his exposed skin.
“Mr. Poole?”
Virgil exhaled, shifting on the mattress to face the doorway, “more testing?”
“Just here to collect a neurological history if that’s alright,” one of Patton’s palms rested against the door frame while the other seized a clipboard.
“Go ahead, I guess,” Virgil raised his downcast eyes and shrugged slightly.
“I can come back later,” instantly noticing Virgil’s hunched posture, Patton shifted his feet to retreat.
“No- it’s fine. Ask away,” Virgil peered up before picking again at the remaining flecks of nail polish clinging to his nails.
“Okay..,” Patton reluctantly stepped into the darkened room, brows knitted into a frown, “Do you have a history of head injury or seizures?”
“Have you ever had surgery involving the nervous system?” Patton continued, pen tip pressed against papers shoved under the board’s metal clip.
“No.”
“Have you ever been treated for a neurological problem?”
Another ‘no.’
“Have you ever had a serious injury?”
“If it matters, I broke my leg when I was nine,” Virgil rested his head in his now unbusy palm, gaze flitted to his crossed legs.
“How were you treated?” Patton momentarily glanced up from the charts.
“The doc had me wear a cast and use crutches for six weeks,” Virgil shrugged. He had been sketching - sketching wolves and bluishly radiant moons in the aged tree flourishing by his hinged, bedside window when he fractured his femur. Dropping his pen from the branch had sealed Virgil’s destiny as his balance departed with his attempt to capture it.
“Do you have any residual effects from breaking your leg?”
“..No.”
Another scribble from Patton.
“Do you have any other medical problems?”
“Uh,” Virgil paused hesitantly, peering up to inspect Patton’s expression, “…anxiety.”
“What about prescriptions?” Patton inquired, tilting his head, “are you currently taking any prescribed or over the counter medications?”
“No.”
Sighing, Patton scrawled the same answer in black pen on Virgil’s messy charts, “Could you tell me about your family’s medical history?”
“Dad died of a heart attack and mom’s out of the picture,” Virgil huffed bluntly, shrugging with his eyes.
“Any brothers, sisters, or cousins?” Patton donned a half-frown.
“Nope, no, and no,” Virgil mumbled, missing the distraction that unwinding the threads of his coal-colored hoodie brought him.
“Aunts? Uncles?”
“Not that I know about.”
“Oh..,” Patton frowned.
“That all you need?” Virgil cleared his throat.
“Uh-,” Snapping out of his haze, Patton replied, “yeah.”
“That’s all I need,” He quickly clarified, rubbing the back of his neck.
As Patton turned on his heel to leave, his steps faltered. He was incapable of halting his thoughts from sprinting painfully back in time to Remy. Shaking his head, Patton stopped in his footsteps and shifted to face Virgil, “Do you, uh, have anyone that will visit you? ”
“What?” Virgil tilted his head, shoulders visibly slumping once he processed the question.
Patton knew it wasn’t his right to pry, but he asked anyway.
“I’m sorry,” Patton rapidly backtracked, “I- I really shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s whatever,” Virgil huffed, looking at his bare nails.
“I could come and check up on you occasionally if you’d like,” Patton rushed through his words.
“Uh-,” Virgil angled his head, unsure of what to make of the offer, “…sure.”
so I was minding my own business and eating pasta when I suddenly was hit with the mental image of Remy signing in ASL oh my GODS I love him
anyways here’s some asl-using Remy headcanons (with some losleep sprinkled in too because the losleep agenda Never Rests, amirite, @sleepless-in-starbucks?)
psa before I get started: I do not use ASL. I am not nonverbal/deaf, and only know the little bit that I know from ASL Class. if I get anything wrong, or say something offensive, please let me know! also if you’re not familiar with gloss maybe check out this link. I don’t use much but I do use a bit.
nonverbal!Remy
he was in a car accident when he was seven
and he sustained several injuries, including trauma to his head
after that, his speech was unreliable so he started using ASL
and by the time he’s in highschool, he’s comfortable with it
so when some kid picks on him and ask him why he uses ASL if he’s not deaf
he rolls his eyes at them and signs something by his chin
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
he sighs and scribbles down on a piece of paper
“Bitch.”
needless to say the kid was Not Happy
as if Remy cared
in his next class, he’s sitting next to some guy wearing a button-up and a tie
and he’s wondering, who does this kid think he is?
but then he realizes that, shit, he left his syllabus at home
so he sighs and elbows the kid
and, without thinking, asks if he has the syllabus in ASL
but, surprisingly, he nods and hands him the syllabus
#LOGAN, he introduces himself
Remy grins
#REMY
they get to know eachother later on and it turns out Logan has a nonverbally autistic brother, Virgil, who uses ASL
and Remy just starts falling head over heels
anyways on to the headcanons
Remy is a fastsigner with dexterous lanky fingers
and Logan is gay the only one in his family that can keep up
somaybe Remy cusses at his dinner table just to see what’ll happen
turns out what will happen is that Logan will cuss right back under the table and wow that boy has the hands of a sailor
also Remy does notput up with people’s bs
if someone makes fun of him, he will call them out for it
and probably cuss them out for it, too
Logan has the pleasure of translating that much
(everything else Remy says is written/typed, but in the heat of the moment, there’s nothing like some good old signs)
never fear!!!!! Roman, Prince Of Worms is here to free his boyfriend!!!
Deceit is now free and no longer being held back from causing anarchy
Deceit off the string, what crimes will he commit
recently freed gay worm-snake commits thievery, more at 10
THIS JUST IN!!!
Gay worm snake gives his prince boyfriend a smooch for freeing him
Sources say that gay prince worm is very flustered
Now back to your regularly scheduled program
BREAKING NEW AGAIN!!!!
Gay prince worm’s feral brother has broken out of Gay Worm Jail and is confirmed to be armed and is quote:
“On a mission to go kill worm God… or find my worm boyfriend, I don’t know yet!”
Where is his boyfriend?! Someone please find this worm’s boyfriend!!!
WORM BOYFRIEND HAS BEEN LOCATED!
I REPEAT! WORM BOYFRIEND HAS BEEN LOCATED AND IS CURRENTLY GIVING HIS WAR CRIMINAL WORM BOYFRIEND SMOOCHES!
MEANWHILE…
News Worm Logan here to bring you the most current and important events (Referenced from @moonwarrioryt who first did News Worm Logan)
I will freaking reblog this everytime I see it and also look at Lo he be a quality worm now
OG news Logan
(You did so good Maple )
Can someone save news worm Logan’s boyfriendcoworker?Can someone please-
News Worm Logan is very worried about his boyf- coworker Reporter Worm Patton. Reporter Worm Patton is just worried in general.
When you thought it would be fun to let your worms make their own little society but now there’s an anarchist wiggling around setting fire to buildings, 
everyone’s panicking,
and two of your worms are making out and touching tails like there’s no tomorrow
And now your just watching it all happen cause you have no idea what to do.
This Is Beautiful
what a saga
i wanted to be part of something beautiful but i had 15 minutes and a dying apple pencil so. behold.
Things are heating up, will Remy be home in time for dinner? By god I hope he does
never fear!!!!! Roman, Prince Of Worms is here to free his boyfriend!!!
Deceit is now free and no longer being held back from causing anarchy
Deceit off the string, what crimes will he commit
recently freed gay worm-snake commits thievery, more at 10
THIS JUST IN!!!
Gay worm snake gives his prince boyfriend a smooch for freeing him
Sources say that gay prince worm is very flustered
Now back to your regularly scheduled program
BREAKING NEW AGAIN!!!!
Gay prince worm’s feral brother has broken out of Gay Worm Jail and is confirmed to be armed and is quote:
“On a mission to go kill worm God… or find my worm boyfriend, I don’t know yet!”
Where is his boyfriend?! Someone please find this worm’s boyfriend!!!
WORM BOYFRIEND HAS BEEN LOCATED!
I REPEAT! WORM BOYFRIEND HAS BEEN LOCATED AND IS CURRENTLY GIVING HIS WAR CRIMINAL WORM BOYFRIEND SMOOCHES!
MEANWHILE…
News Worm Logan here to bring you the most current and important events (Referenced from @moonwarrioryt who first did News Worm Logan)
I will freaking reblog this everytime I see it and also look at Lo he be a quality worm now
OG news Logan
(You did so good Maple )
Can someone save news worm Logan’s boyfriendcoworker?Can someone please-
News Worm Logan is very worried about his boyf- coworker Reporter Worm Patton. Reporter Worm Patton is just worried in general.
When you thought it would be fun to let your worms make their own little society but now there’s an anarchist wiggling around setting fire to buildings, 
everyone’s panicking,
and two of your worms are making out and touching tails like there’s no tomorrow
And now your just watching it all happen cause you have no idea what to do.
This Is Beautiful
what a saga
i wanted to be part of something beautiful but i had 15 minutes and a dying apple pencil so. behold.
If there was one thing Remus could list that he liked about Remy it’d probably be how fun they were. Or… maybe the way they snorted when he told a joke? No it’d definitely be… fucking everything.
God, what was he thinking trying to list just one thing?
Summary: Usually, the wedding comes after the proposal. Though Remy and Remus have never been ones for doing things the usual way. Warnings: the characters are drunk for like half the fic Wordcount:1913
Summary: In a world filled with soulmates, Roman had long ago accepted that ve was never going to have one. The Universe had chosen to be a bitch to vim, and ve was stuck with that. So even though it was very in-character, Roman thought it was pretty rude of the Universe to make vim fall so hopelessly in love with two soulmates, too. Content: (Not actually) unrequited love, (mutual) pining, mention/reference to various (minor) injuries, technically one very minor reference to self-harm, panic attack, some poorly timed laughing, references to not sleeping well/bad sleeping habits, happy ending; nb!roman, nb!remy, genderfluid!logan, all characters are implied to be aromantic, soulmate au Ships: QPR rolosleep, pre-established losleep Note: For the majority of this, Logan uses the atlantis pronoun set- a/lan/atla/atlan/atlantiself. I mention this because the ‘a’ pronoun confused me many a time while writing, and I don’t want it to confuse you while reading
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Confessions. Roman loved them…
…as tropes.
In real life? Not so much.
Maybe it would’ve been better if they weren’t soulmates. Maybe it would’ve been better if ve had a soulmate of vis own. Maybe it would’ve been better if Roman’s concept of romance existed past poorly written dime novels and cheesy romcoms.
Maybe it would’ve been just as hard if all the odds were in vis favor.
But as they stood, they weren’t great.
And yet… Roman still wanted to confess.
No, scratch that.
Needed to confess.
Ve couldn’t go on like this. They were just… so in love. Almost too in love, depending on who you asked, but Roman never saw it like that. Maybe that’s because ve’s biased. Ve found ve didn’t care that much.
They were real soulmates, unlike some of them. Some matches never clicked. Some took time.
Logan and Remy took time, but they hadn’t needed it. You could see it in their every action, their every word, their every small glance at the other. They didn’t even have a good meet-cute and they still fit better together than any couple Roman had ever seen. From two strangers forced to share the last seat on the bus to soulmates who’s every move around the other was laced with something, something more than love, something that was made from the stars themselves.
And it was etched across their skin too, the stars and constellations that decorated Logan’s skin at every spot Remy had bled and the planets on Remy that marked the spot of Logan’s every bruise. Space flowed in their veins and held them together.
