#and they are a fander- and they are a horrible and manipulative person

[pantton-sandacers]

.

[macademmia]

ok so you mentioned "the MPIOP situation on Twitter" on your post (which, yes good post it's very important) but uh what is that? i'm pretty up to date on the skirt thingy, is that just the same thing but on twitter? it sounds like it's much worse. thank you and sorry if i'm jsut being dumb

anon:  Oh man, I'm so confused. What does MPIOP stand for? What is the skirt discourse? What happened?? Please help me I'm so lost

anon:  what’s the miop situation?

---

okay I’m gonna answer these three asks in one since I don’t wanna flood people with heavy stuff! Please don’t stress this, it’s not even happening on tumblr, It’s not a stupid question, not dumb.

this is an oversimplification 

so basically MPIOP(inside joke name) was a very public friend group of fanders with HIGH follower counts(tens of thousands) that constantly interacted with Thomas. On twitter and tiktok they were basically the aristocracy of Sanders Sides fandom. Everyone looked up to them(including me!) and that stopped a lot of victims from speaking out

some members(a few of them are innocent) used their large following to get away with cyberbullying and a bunch of other messed up stuff. 

One person, Jay(random.phandoms), a person with 110,000+ followers on tiktok and 7,000+ followers on twitter did a lot of horrible things. Including, but not limited to: emotional manipulation, emotional abuse, gaslighting, sending NSFW pics without consent, bullying other fanders, giving a shitty apology etc. 

Another person, not in the group chat, Rachel(ray.ro.ree) with over 50k on tiktok, also did some bad shit without consent, emotionally manipulated people and more. 

It’s a colossal shit show, and I think teenagers should know what’s going on(your favorite fans could manipulate you). It’s time we break the idea that bigger pages are inherently better, because they are obviously not 

here’s a twitter account with all the stories first hand, I highly recommend. @bleuyblu on tiktok has some great vids on it

(correct me if I got this info wrong)

[allmycrushesaredead]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23972851

Broadway Here I Come

Summary:

Roman questions his worth and needs some solace before it's too late

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, self-hatred, self-esteem issues, crying

ANGST!! You have been warned!

This is my first published fic! It was originally published on 05-02-2020

Words: 1608

Chapters: 1/1

Roman sank out of Thomas' living room into the mindpalace.

They didn't understand. Janus was a bad guy ! He was the embodiment of deceit! How could they trust that…that snake over him? 

As Roman's mind raced, he found himself at the base of his tower in the mindpalace. Glancing up at the stoney heights of his creation, Roman opened the giant wooden doors with a thought, pacing around the entrance, raking his hands frustratedly through his hair.

After a moment of thought, he took off up the stoney steps, climbing to the highest tower. He needed to get away from the others, he couldn't think, he couldn't do this anymore. 

As he stepped into the small room, adorned with warm lights and soft pillows and lounge chairs, he thought again about today's discussion.

Overwhelmed, Roman slammed his fist into the nearest wall, ignoring the twinge of pain that shot through his hand.

How was he supposed to deal with the information presented in yet another one of Thomas' endless perils? How was he supposed to deal with the fact that the line between right and wrong was not so definite as it had always been? How was he supposed to feel about Patton and Thomas' immediate acceptance of Janus? Did they not still suspect that he would turn against them? And how was he supposed to deal with the fact that Thomas deep down didn't want to help others, and that he was the reason for that? 

Should Thomas die if it meant saving others?

Should Roman die for the good of the others? For the good of Thomas?

The other sides could fill in his role… Thomas had Remus for creativity now. Patton - Roman choked back a sob- Patton could handle the emotions, the love and passion. 

Love. 

Roman remembered Patton's face, his calm and caring look when he said, "Everything is going to be okay, kiddo. We love you."

Love.

They didn't truly love him. Not if they were willing to trust that liar over him. 

How many times had Janus impersonated another side?

How many times had he lied to Thomas?

How many times had he manipulated them into doing what he wanted?

And now, now he was doing the same thing, drawing them into a false sense of security, and then he would betray them, hurt them, do something to harm Thomas…

Deep down, somewhere inside of him, a little voice said that Janus was being genuine, that he was a good guy, that he truly wanted what was best for Thomas.

Angrily, Roman shoved that voice down.

No. No, that couldn't be right.

Everything that Thomas, everything that Roman had been raised to believe said that the good guys were the ones who were loyal, and true, and willing to help others. That made Janus a bad guy. 

He was the embodiment of lies! How could someone like that be good? 

No, goodness was truth, and compassion, and empathy.

Well, then that made Roman a bad guy. He had just proven, once again, that he was unwilling to trust others, unwilling to see the best in others, unwilling to see past the label that was placed on them.

Well, maybe the labels were flawed. 

Roman was supposed to be the hero, the prince who slays the dragon witch and saves the poor innocent villagers from destruction, the good guy.

Yet, he had been rude and hateful once again to a side who attempted to candidly reveal their name.

Sure, Roman had been in the midst of absolutely losing his shit and spiraling into a full-on mental breakdown, but that didn't give him an excuse to be so rude.

He had provoked Patton even further into spiraling out of control by demanding an answer to a question that didn't have an easy right answer. He made Patton question his own goodness because he couldn't choose between saving Thomas' life or a group of innocents. He could see that Patton was spiraling, could see that it was not going to end well, could see that he was hurting him by questioning him further, but he still pressured him for an answer.

If that wasn't something that characterised a bad guy, then, well, he didn't know what to believe anymore.

Hell, he couldn't even believe that he was a good guy just because he did good things, not if he did them for the wrong reasons.

Roman didn't even know what was right and wrong at this point. 

All he knew was that he was the problem. He was Thomas' passions and desires, and that was getting in the way of Thomas wanting to help others.

He was getting in the way of Thomas' being satisfied and content after doing something for another person. He was getting in the way of Thomas' happiness….

His whole purpose was to motivate Thomas and to get him to where he wanted to be in life.

He had failed at both.

He was worthless, broken, horrible….

He had to go.

He couldn't stick around if it meant being a detriment to Thomas and his mental health. 

Thomas didn't need Confidence who was lacking self-confidence.

Roman was broken, a useless tool to be thrown out when it no longer works. What was the point of a dull knife, or a dead flashlight, or a ripped paper?

….What was the point of a hero that doesn't want to help others, or a hero that only does it in search of some sort of reward?

Roman took a shaky breath, dragging a hand over his face.

If he wanted Thomas to be happy, he needed to remove himself from the picture.

Walking over to the window, he gazed down into the imagination, into the streets he had designed to resemble Broadway. He gazed at the people so far below, all so happy and content. If Roman wasn't making Thomas feel like that, then why was he even here?

As Roman stared at the street beneath him, he was reminded of the song he had put on his playlist for Thomas to release to the Fanders, Broadway Here I Come. Such a deceivingly soft song for the story it told. 

Roman choked back another sob, stuffing a fist in his mouth to muffle the broken noises escaping him. Steeling his courage, he opened the window and stepped into the stoney windowsill.

I'm high above the city

I'm standing on the ledge

The view from here is pretty

And I step off the edge

Roman felt cold and numb as he slowly lifted a foot off the ledge, leaning forward into the wind, feeling it caress his face and body. The tears were flowing freely now, and he didn't attempt to stop them. There was no point in that anymore.

Just as he felt himself begin to fall, he felt a hand grip onto his sash and yank him back into his room.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Princey?!" Virgil demanded, slamming the window shut and getting nose to nose with the royal side.

Roman stumbled back in shock at the side's sudden arrival. 

After a moment of silence, Virgil repeated himself. "I said, what the hell are you doing? Please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing," he pleaded, concern etched on his face. 

Roman didn't respond, opting rather to stare at the stones underneath his feet.

"Please, Roman, talk to me. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on." 

Virgil took a step forward, only to be met with Roman's retreat, backing up several steps for Virgil's one.

"Stop- please, just… don't. Please."

Virgil nodded, retreating to his prior position. "Please, Roman. Just tell me why you're doing this. Thomas needs you, we need you-"

"You don't need me. I'm holding Thomas back from being happy, I'm failing at my job!"

Roman fell to his knees, letting out a sob. He couldn't take this, couldn't do this, couldn't keep up this cover, this idea that he was bulletproof, this idea that he could face any challenge and come out of it unscathed. He had hid his true feelings for too long, had pretended that the blows from the other sides didn't hurt, that he was okay, that he wanted to keep living like this, that he wanted to keep living in general. 

Through the tears that filled his eyes, he saw Virgil kneel in front of him. Sniffling, he looked up at the purple-clad side.

Virgil held out his arms, a soft glistening of tears in his eyes. 

Letting out another sob, Roman threw himself into the embrace, clutching at Virgil's hoodie like a lifeline, his face buried in the side's chest. The royal side felt a hand lace through his hair, scratching gently at the silky strands, while another hand rubbed comforting circles on his back.

Virgil didn't ask for an explanation, didn't ask for him to talk, didn't say anything, opting rather to hum a random tune above his head. 

Between the buzz of Virgil's voice from his chest and the feeling of his hands gently scratching and rubbing at his skin, Roman slowly felt himself calming down, the tears slowing to a trickle, then stopping, his heartbeat reducing its pace from frantic and pounding to calm and steady.

Things were by no means resolved, that would take lots of talking with the other sides and Thomas, but, at least for now, he felt valued, at least by one of the sides. He felt safe, no longer spiraling and careening into despair. 

For now, he was alright.

He was home.