#the only other longer fic i have typed up is STRAIGHT angst n i didnt wanna do that to ya😭

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

begging you to post a fic PLEASE desperately need a distraction right now

unfortunately it's a pretty long way from done but I have a decent snippet from something I'm working on!! I hope this is enough distraction for ya love!!

The nights soft 'n warm with the memory of a long, hot June day. The porch creaks in all the places it always did, comfortin'. The tangible reminder of all the places feet have drug 'n run 'n tripped, rippin' hole in once new jeans. Cars hum vaguely up 'n down streets all around them, lights flashin' in the twilight like deer through the woods.

Pony's perched on the steps, knees tucked up to his chest, book balanced flat across the patches there, sewed 'n resewed carefully, patiently. The street lights flicker on, one by one, up the street. The sun shiftin' lower 'n lower until it vanishes completely behind the houses, silhouettin' them for a moment, harsh 'n dark against a brilliant sky.

Pony slaps his palm flat on the page to save his spot, closes it 'n watches the slow fadin' of the sun. 'N Darry 'n Soda watch with him. 'Cause they've always noticed sunsets, sure. Who hasn't dug a good sunset every now 'n then? But it was always in that absently, flickerin' way. Enough to see 'n nothin' more. But Pony? He got 'em. 'N they've been tryin' more. To really see it.

The sun blazes, orange 'n red 'n burnin' to look at too long, 'n disappears beyond the horizon. Pony picks the book back up 'n Soda shifts, props his back against his brother's side.

"Whatcha readin', Pone?" Darry rocks back 'n forth in the swing chair their daddy used to take down at the end August but Darry left up all year 'round. Too many things to do, too many people passin' back 'n forth, never enough places to sit. Or maybe it was just an excuse to step out into the quiet. To still a body now 'n then.

"Dandelion Wine." He pauses, eyes flickerin' up 'n over the lawn grown high 'n dense, here a bike tipped on its side, there Steve's beater he swears to god just needs one more part. Just another five minutes work. Never mind he's been sayin' that for the better part of the young summer. "Y'know. I just started."

A question lingers at the end of his words. Somethin' that remembers summers gone by. Darry 'n Soda 'n Pony curled up on a couch or the back of a car, a page 'n a half here, a chapter there, 'round the kitchen table, Soda movin', movin', movin'. Darry always busy. Pony always still. Nose down, voice clear 'n ringin'.

When was the last time Pony'd read to them? The last time they'd all been still together? Just the three of them?

"What's it about, Pone?" Soda tips his head back, slides down so he's restin' against Pony's thigh, looks at him upside down.

Pony laughs, soft 'n light, whacks him on the forehead. "Dunno. Just started. This kid, Doug, 'n his brother, Tom. I think it's about their summer."

"Well go on, Pone." Darry shifts, tips his head back, pushes himself gently again. "Let's hear it."

Pony hesitates, blinks at Darry with those wide, sea-just-after-a-storm eyes he's had since he was a kid. Darry lifts his head back up, looks down at his kid brother, 'n smiles. The kinda soft smile he only ever gets on nights like these. "We're workin' on limited time here, kiddo. Soda's gonna start thrashin' around like a hooked fish if you make him wait much longer."

Soda hoots a laugh, wriggles his back around on the splinterin' wood to prove the point. Pony snorts, reaches over 'n jabs him once in the ribs. Soda yelps, twists to his knees, wrestles Pony to the ground til they're a mess of scraped elbows 'n socked feet.

Darry doesn't stop them, lets them thrash around, hands to shoulders, turnin' 'n rollin' until they get too close to the stairs Pony once jumped off 'n cracked his head open at the bottom of, Soda once rode a trash can lid on 'n spilled out of, head over heels into the grass, laughin'. "Alright you two, settle. Pony, sometime tonight, please."

They reluctantly separate, a tug at the hair here, an open-handed slap to a bicep there, gigglin' 'n howlin' with wide open mouths.

[roseamongroses]

Antithesis: (1) “cracks knuckles its time to get educated fools”

Summary: For their Junior project, Roman is unceremoniously paired with Dmitri. 

He's hardly interacted with the guy, a strange occurrence since Virgil has had a weird/unexplained hate-hate relationship with him since middle-school. But it isn't like he's complaining. Dmitri's cute, he compliments Roman, and damn can he paint.So Roman may or may not catch feelings, and he may not be wiling to uncatch them anytime soon.--Dmitri returns the sentiment.

[General Warnings:] Misgendering, Past Misgendering, Past Bullying, Mild Sexual Content,  implied emotional abuse, Cursing [Tags/mood:] highschool au, project troupe, fluff and angst but its all good, chat fic, teen stress, its flordia no snow we die like men [Pairing:] Roceit (Roman Sanders/ Deceit Sanders), hinted future/possible logince/roloceit/loceit [Characters] Roman Sanders/Deceit (Dmitri) Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy (Sleep) Sanders, Nate Sanders, Dragon Witch (Diana) 

(1) (2)

R: hey this is Roman[star] [crown] [star]

R: what do you have in mind for the project??

---

As simple as that text was, according to his very reliable memory, it took him exactly an entire decade to work up the nerve to send that. And he was not a coward mind you- reasonably afraid of sudden movements, sure, but no damn coward. He made sure to inherit the fight gene when he was in the womb with Virgil, around the same time he graciously decided not to absorb the little shit.

As if to further emphasis the magnitude of his fetal sacrifice, Virgil gulped down the rest of the milk. Straight from the pint. Just as Roman poured his cereal.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, “What’s got you all riled up prin-cy?” he tossed the pint. Even though Mom wasn’t there to rag on him for being an absolute heathen, she could still do so later if he left behind evidence.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He ate his cereal dry, carefully avoiding Virgil’s scrutiny.

“Oh--” Virgil choked, “Oh shit, what did you do.”

“Excuse me,”Roman squawked, “I did nothing, you here? I am a good child.”

“Fuckface,”

“We have the same face,”

“Fuckface,” Virgil flicked his dyed purple, and regularly straightened hair for emphasis, “Last time you didn’t actively shout your problems, we found several stray cats in your room--and then there's the time you lit grandpa’s shed on fire with your self care candles and then there was the homecoming incident of fres-”

“--Ok,” Roman interrupted, “--wow Virgil, drag up my entire hero’s journey while you’re at it,” he pouted, “It’s no big deal, really.”

“When the hero’s journey could make a convincing argument in a court of law that you’re unreasonably fire-prone, then yes it's a big deal Ro, spill.”

“I’m just a little,” understatement, “Overwhelmed, by our junior project--” It's definitely not the project, definately definately, definitely not the project.

“That thing?” Virgil frowned, confused, “Me n’ L, going down to the space-station to do interviews, and a couple of presentations, what's going on in the art department?”

“Fuckin’ nerds,” Roman snorted, stabbing his cereal again, “Pat jus’ had to switch last minute to help the new kid out, so Dee and I got paired together and he--”Roman looked up,suddenly very aware of how Virgil’s normally slouched position became deathly straight, face calm, “Uh...Virge…?”

Roman feels like he forgot something important.

Virgil smiled, “What did that snake-fucker Dmitri do?”

Bingo, that’s what he forgot.

It wasn’t like Virgil’s thing with Dee was something that could be traced back to one particular incident, more like a culmination of the two being forced into being in each others general vicinity when they did not in fact want that company.

Roman avoided that drama, mainly because Virgil and him could hardly stand each other at the time either. So most of what he knows is second hand.

Though Virgil has explained it as, “When he opens his mouth, my flight or fight response is activated.” and as far as Roman knows Dmitri just returned the sentiment.

Roman shoved another spoonful of cereal in his mouth, “Chill, it’s Nothing, really, just, he said something that caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed, “If he does it again, tell me,” he said, “Logan says I can restart the prank war with probable cause.”

Roman shrugged,“-Kay” he said

He will most certainly not.

---

D:Sanders? from 3rd block?

R: ye who else would i be??? where is this other roman???

D:Who knows? How do I know you’re not Virgil w/ Roman’s phone?

R: //gasp// i am no fake. 

D: Proof?

R:[Picture: Roman’s knees are pulled to his chest, him pouting at the camera. 

His hair dyed aubrun and  thrown into a messy bun, paint and freckles littering his  brown skin]

[ThatOneGuyThatVirgilHates <3’s a picture]

D: Oh thank god you are the cute one

---

[out of the way fives]

Hotleg: so.

Sipsipsippin: dammit roman.

Hotleg: i didnt even say anything how dare

Sipsipsippin:hon, i dated you, i know.

Hotleg: we made out like once

Sipsipsippin: i know.

Hotleg: it was like, eigth grade

Sipsipsipin: i k n o w

Hotleg: ok, ok wise and powerful, remington. Guess who it is, bitch.

Sipsipsippin: ill bite

Sipsipsippin: logan?

Hotleg:....

Hotleg: id say ew, but,,,im not entirely agnst that, ,,, i

Hotleg: nope no, it is not infact logan

Sipsipsippin: FUCK i owe pat a five

Hotleg:????betrayl??????in my sanctum????

Sipsipsippin: shh, i did not type that and you saw nothing

Sipsipsippin: gah give me a hint

Hotleg: hes,,,, good with his hands ;)

----

Remy slammed his hands down the table, “Roman you filthy animal tell me who it is.”

A few people nearby looked up, startled, but not entirely surprised. Patton still winced, pointedly looking at his book and pretending like he didn’t know these actual public disturbances but didn’t bother to move. Which is hard to do regardless, when one Roman has made your shoulder his home.

“Sorry can’t speak english,” Roman said, exaggerating his drawl. He picked off of the leftovers on Patton’s plate, avoiding the daggers being driven into him from behind Remy’s tinted frames.

“Patton, do you know?” Remy asked.

Patton frowned, “Know what?” He flipped a page.

“Our wittle Roman’s got a cwush.” Remy slid into a chair, grabbing a fry.

Patton tilted his head, giving Roman a smile, “A crush you say?”

“Shit.” Roman moved to scramble out of his seat, but Patton somehow managed to put down his book, and fit his arm snug around his waist, tugging him lightly back down.

“Pattonnnn,” He whined, “This is an abuse of my need for affection.”

“Poor baby boy,” Patton hummed, “So, about this crush.”

“C’mon Pat, it could just be a squish,”

“Ro, do you find all your squishies that attractive?” Remy said.

“I find all of my friends aesthetically pleasing, I love you all, lots. I would kill for all of you without hesitation.” Patton rested his chin on Roman’s head, “Did he talk about their hands?” he asked pointedly.

“He wrote poetry.”

“Not to romo,” Patton said, “but yeah it’s a Roman Crush™.”

“I just said how much I loved you guys and this is the betrayal I receive? I thought y’all were the Evagiline to my Ray- instead you’re the animation industry to my animators.”

“Bitch, you bugged me all last week about the same shit,” Remy shot back, lovingly, “Karma’s here, so tell me his name or I’m stealing your toenails and feeding them to your first born.” He sipped his drink, face victorious.

Mid gasp, Roman felt Patton’s grip around his waist tighten. He turned around curiously finding Patton’s attention no longer at the table.

Roman followed his line of sight, blinking, “Dmitri?”

“You have a crush on D--fuck,” Remy hissed, rubbing where Roman’s heel dug into his thigh.

“Sorry can’t hear you,” Roman gritted through his teeth, “--call again after the beep bi-Hi Dee!”

Patton leaned back in his chair, picking up his book again but had yet to remove his arm.

Dmitri shifted the tray in his hands, “Uh, hey,” he smiled, “Can I talk to you?” His hair was down today, the short bob barely falling past his shoulders, but his clothes were noticeably covered paint, yet frustratingly enough other than that, nothing seemed ruffled or half assed. All clean lines and angles.

“What about?” Roman’s brow furrowed.

“Yeah,” Remy chimed, waggling his eyebrows, “What abou-oW.”

Dmitri ignored that, “Can I talk to you,” He glanced at Patton, “Privately,” he emphasised, “I found some old art magazines and projects in the library storage room, Mrs. Ider said we can check it out.”

“Uh, okay,” Roman nodded dumbly. He hopped up, snagging a fry before he followed Dmitri.

Walking down the long stretch of hallway, Roman found himself checking his watch several times- something he hardly ever does. Yet, the uncomfortable silence lingered, with only Dmitri’s avoident gazes and the clicks of Roman’s boots to fill the silence.

Lucky for Roman, his tendency for avoidance was relatively short on supply.

“Did I do something wrong?” Roman forced himself not to wince at how needy he sounded.

Dmitri opened the door for him, blinking, “Of course--” his voice dropped to a a whisper as the entered, “Of course not, why do you say so?”

“You seem different?”

“We’ve hardly talked before, aside from text.” Dmitri reasoned, tone awfully similar to when Logan’s trying to justify consuming an entire jar of Crofters in one sitting.

“Dee,” Roman said, raising an eyebrow, “That’s true, but you’re hardly one to get… nervous,” he said, “I’ve heard enough stories from Virgil alone to know.”

Dee froze, neither smiling or frowning, “What… type of stories.” His cheeks were delightfully pinched pink. “Tell me what I did wrong and--” Roman switched on the light to the libraries storage room, hiding a wicked smile as he glanced back, “And I’ll tell you some of my favorites.”

“Just wonderful,” Dmitri muttered, stepping inside as well, “But truthfully you did nothing wrong, I just don’t quite know how to do apologies.”

“Same,” Roman said, “Where are the ‘zines?” he distractedly asked, dragging the step ladder from behind the door.

“Back, left shelf,” Dmitri replied. He steadied the step ladder as Roman climbed up searching the dusty shelves. “What were you trying to not apologize for?” Roman asked, dropping magazines to the floor beside him.

“The...flirting?”

“Oh just the flirting?” he paused, holding a magazine to his chest, “Oh.” he repeated, now breathless. Dmitri looked way, ”Yeah, it didn’t mean anything, sorry,” he said, “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, I swear I’m usually only a little sleazy.”

“So,” Roman dropped the next magazine, ”It was a joke.” He said a bit quieter, the magazine slapped the ground with more force.

“So is everything cool or…?”

“Uh,” Roman breathed in, blinking rapidly, “Uh, yeah it's all-- Wait, did you say boyfriend?”

“Yes...Is he not?”

“Who, who would--Oh. Oh, No, Patton isn’t--” Roman’s shoulders sagged, “We’re just friends.”

Roman stepped down from the ladder and was met with Dmitri’s look of skepticism.

“Oh, then I meant every word.” Dmitri said, all too casually, “Are you always so touchy with your friends?” he questioned, voice softer.

“Only if they want to.” Roman shrugged, “What do you and your friends do?”

“I don’t have… that many,” Dmitri admitted with a shrug of his own, the two of them hefting up their own pile of magazines, “And the ones I do would probably punch me if I tried anything like that.”

“Do you want to be able to do that?” Roman questioned, tugging open the door with ease, holding it open for Dmitri with his back. Dmitri was quiet, the two settling the stacks onto a table.

“Hey you don’t have to answer it’s really no pressu--”

“No it's fine,” Dmitri said, hugging his arms, “I’d… think I would, but I doubt any of my friends would want to…” His nose curled, “They’d tell me to piss off and get a girlfriend,”

“Well,” Roman said, “I’m your friend, and I’m certainly not going to promote the heterosexual agenda, unless that’s your thing, so I guess the awful duty of cuddles befalls on me,” He winked.

Dmitri looked at him again, “...I guess it does.”

Ao3