#trying ro figure out a job but when I can’t even get out of bed how the fuck am I gonna do that?

[rosicheeks]

-

[love-is-a-pearl]

Hair styling

Word count: 840 Ao3 mirror: Hair styling Warnings: none Pairings: AshDawn (pearlshipping)

“Ughh” complained Dawn as the very lopsided braid she had just finished came undone. Why was french braiding so difficult?

She hits her forehead on the vanity desk before looking back at the mirror, wondering if she should just scrap the braid idea and go for another hairstyle when she sees Ash reflecting in the mirror. He has been waiting for her to fix her hair for half an hour now. She feels guilty for it.

“You know I could help you, right?” He asks, trying to hold a laugh. Dawn could be so dramatic at times.

“Do you even know how to braid?” She asks, her voice muffled cause she still has her face planted on the desk.

“Yeah, actually.” He gets up from his spot on the bed and moves to stand behind her chair. “I asked Brock to teach me a while ago.” He pats her head and she sits back up. Might as well let him try to do what she can’t.

“Really? Why?”

“Remember how in the last meeting you needed both Serena and May to somehow get the hairstyle you wanted done?” She shrinks in her seat as he starts pulling her hair in 4 separate strands plus the pretty glittery ribbon that was the kickstarter for Dawn’s need for a braid at all. She always chooses the most complicated hairstyles doesn’t she? “I thought that if I learned one thing or two I could help you with it. So I asked Brock to teach me some stuff.”

“How Brock knows how to braid though? Can’t imagine him having long hair.” Ash laughs as he remember his older friend rocked a mullet once.

“I think having 4 younger sisters gets you to learn some stuff.” He finishes the braiding, and ties the end of the french braid in a not so perfect bow. “There you go!” he looks at her expectantly through the mirror. He tried his best but he had just done this on the fur of Lycanroc until now, so he know he is nowhere near Dawn’s level. “What do you think?”

Dawn moves her head to look at the hairstyle from as many angles as she can. “It’s amazing! Way better than when I try to do it by myself! It looks so cute.” She grabs the braid in her hands to inspect the job. “It’s crazy how good you are at learning new things. Now I just need to think of which outfit to wear!”

“You… hadn’t thought of anything yet?”

“I… had only the hairstyle figured out..”

✦ ✧✧✧✧

“You’re staring.” Dawn says to her boyfriend that had stopped their pokemon training to look at her, instead of drinking the water he was holding. “Like, more than usual.” She jokes. It was not unusual for him to just stare at her, but mid training? Almost worrisome if she’s being honest.

“I am?” He finally takes a sip from the bottle. “It’s just… That hairstyle really looks good on you.” His expression softens as he appreciates how the pulled hair makes the pretty earrings she's wearing shine against her face.

“Are you just appreciating it more because you’re the one who did it?” He thinks about it. His stomach does feels funny when he remembers that he helped her achieve this look.

“Maybe.”

“Then I guess I should ask you to do my hair more often.”

“Yes!” He exclaims. Then stops, thinking about it. “But Brock didn’t really taught me much more than braiding.” Won’t doing the same thing over and over make it less appealing?

“Well, maybe I can teach you other styles.” She also grabs a bottle of water and sits next to Ash in the bench. “There’s always the internet too. There’s this youtube channel that teaches how to do the coolest hairstyles! But I couldn’t ever do it on myself because they’re too complicated. Maybe you could get them done for me?”

“That sounds fun! What stuff do they teach?” He asks, clearly interested in learning more than just braiding.

“All sorts of stuff! Here, let me show you.” She grabs her phone and start to look for the channel she just mentioned.

✦ ✧✧✧✧

“Ash please. Turn off the phone.” Dawn complains. It’s 11:20pm and she got to wake up early the next day and her boyfriend is tapping the next hairstyling video in a row. It’s cute how interested in it he is but she wants to sleep.

“Right after this one, I promise.” He says as the audio plays, it says something about pompadours.

“You know there’s no way in hell you are styling my hair into a pompadour, right?”

“Yup. I’m not watching for you.” He says. They stay in silence for a few minutes before her sleep deprived brain connects the dots.

“If you give yourself a pompadour I’m breaking up with you.” She threatens, not really meaning it but also… maybe? Just a little.

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” He jokes back.

“GIVE ME THAT PHONE!”

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 4 (Rowaelin)

THANK YALL FOR BEING PATIENT I AM SO SORRY

Parts 1 \ 2 \ 3

________________________________

Journal Entry #2000

Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so bad to die.

To leave this island forever and not have to worry about being discovered anymore.

I wasn't always this macabre, but two thousand days of checking over my shoulder and wishing for a man's murder has dulled the wishful excitement I felt when I first got here.

Five years ago, I was grateful to even be alive.

I couldn't believe a stranger give up everything for me and the others--couldn't believe she'd agree to fight this battle because of my decision.

I have to actually remind myself to still be grateful to her, if I'm being honest.

Because sometimes I think about that night all those years ago, when she showed up in the darkest part of the night to kill me. When she'd held the knife with a trembling hand and told me that the price for betraying Arobynn Hamel was my life. When we discovered together that she couldn't bring herself to kill me.

Sometimes I think it would be better if she would've just done it.

At least it would've been over.

At least I wouldn't have to spend years on an island, living the same day over and over again. I think that's what's driving me mad, beyond anything else.

The predictability of my time.

Every day, I follow the same routine. The routine she laid out for me in a hushed whisper.

I wake up and go to the small café a mile down the road to watch the news. And every day, I pray to see Arobynn Hamel's face next to to the words, "Breaking news: billionaire crime boss found dead."

Because that was her only stipulation.

That the ten of us would stay on the island, hidden from sight, until news of his death was announced. In exchange, we got to live.

She'd warned me it would take a long time.

She'd told me to not get complacent.

And then she'd whispered what she planned to do.

Even now, over five years later, the words she'd whispered while shoving a plane ticket and a new passport into my hands were crystal clear.

"The devil isn't going to go down easy."

~Aelin~

The shaft of her recently-fashioned shiv was cold in her hand as she silently grabbed it from under her pillow.

The soft clink of the bars shutting again told her whoever had just snuck in her cell was now locked in with her.

Unfortunate for them.

She wasn't afforded the luxury of a clock, but she knew it was the middle of the night. Normal visiting hours were far over. There was no one here but the bored night guards, four janitorial staff, and rows and rows of sleeping inmates.

And the idiot trying to sneak up behind her bed.

She kept her eyes closed as she listened to the quiet steps walk closer and closer. Right when she was about to turn around and attack, they stopped.

Then the weirdest thing happened. It sounded like whoever it was slid down the wall directly across from her bed.

A killer wouldn't do that.

Curiosity piqued, Aelin turned her head to see who and what was going on.

It was dark in the cell, but she'd recognize that shock of silver hair anywhere.

"Rowan?" she whispered, so quietly she almost didn't even hear herself. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't respond, but the way his muscles tensed told her he'd heard her.

Slowly, she sat up so she could see him better and maybe figure out what was going on.

For the first time in a long time, he looked less than perfect. Far less than it, actually.

His hair was going every possible direction, like he'd been running hands through it and pulling on it. He was wearing a gray t-shirt, rumpled dress slacks, and tennishoes that weren't even tied.

But that wasn't what worried her most. It was the way he was sitting completely still and silent.

He didn't even look like he was breathing.

"Hey," she tried again. "What's going on? Look at me."

Another few heartbeats passed, and then he slowly shook his head.

"Please, Rowan. Just look at me."

He winced, like hearing her say his name physically hurt him.

And then his head came up.

Deep green eyes met hers, and even though it was what she'd wanted, what she'd needed, Aelin instantly wished he'd look away.

Because with one look, she knew he'd figured it out.

He knew, and the pain and turmoil in his eyes... she'd put that there.

She'd seen him angry and sad and happy and everything in between, but she'd never seen him, or anyone else, look so broken.

He looked completely and utterly broken as he sat before her.

"Rowan," she whispered, shaking her head even though she didn't know why.

He bowed his head again, seemingly unable to even look at her.

"Ro," she whispered, dropping to her knees in front of him.

Almost like the old nickname broke something inside him, Rowan's shoulders started to shake.

And then he sobbed.

It was the kind of sob that couldn't possibly be held in. The kind that made her heart clench and tears brew in her own eyes, the kind that told her how much pain he was in.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she put a hand on his arm. He shook off the touch like it burned him and looked up at her again.

"I ruined your life," he croaked, the tears on his face reeking of self-hatred. "I ruined your life."

She shook her head. "No, you didn't."

Anger bled into his tone. "I put you in prison for eight years for murdering people who aren't even fucking dead, Aelin. I didn't listen to you, didn't look hard enough. I've had the clues you left me for eight years. We were in love, and I didn't even try hard enough to... I... please explain to me how I didn't ruin your life."

"You did not ruin my life, Rowan," she told him again, meaning every word.

"Eight years of your life, gone because of me. I don't even understand how you can look at me." He huffed a laugh, but he was far from amused. "No wonder you hate me."

His chest was heaving, his hands were in fists, and his stubble-crested jaw was damp with tears.

And she'd thought he hadn't cared.

Aelin felt like a fool--a horrible, stupid fool--for ever doubting him. For thinking him indignant.

Because this was technically what she'd wanted. What she'd planned to happen.

She'd wanted it to hurt, had wanted him to feel an ounce of what she'd felt when he'd led the case against her.

But it wasn't what she wanted anymore.

Moving slowly, Aelin crawled onto his lap, put her hands on the side of his face, and lifted his gaze to hers while she said, "Arobynn Hamel ruined my life, not you."

He shook his head, breathing heavily. "No-"

She cut him off by wrapping herself around him.

Like she was trying to heal physical wounds, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head to her chest. She sank into him until there wasn't an inch of space between them. Her hands wandered over his back as she held him tight to her.

He was stiffer than a board at first, but eventually he sagged against her, wrapping his arms around her in return.

It was like he was drowning in the sea, and she was the only thing preventing him from being swept away. He shook, his entire body trembling, and his arms became a vice around her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered after a moment.

She shook her head, but it didn't matter. He said it again, and again, and again, until his voice was hoarse and broken.

Aelin ran her hands over his back slowly, and just held him as pain he'd felt for eight years seemed to reach a crest.

Eventually he stopped crying and just laid against her, warm breath fanning across her collarbone.

"I'm so sorry, Aelin," he whispered yet again.

"Please stop saying that. None of this is your fault. You aren't the reason I'm in prison."

"Yes, I am," he insisted, shifting beneath her. "But I'm getting you out right now."

He looked up, eyes bright with new-found purpose, and wiped the tears off his cheeks like they were distracting him.

"What?"

He nodded quickly. "We can bring those people back, and you can get your life back. I know it's not the same, and I know I can't get you these years back, but-"

"No."

He paused. "No?"

She shook her head. "I can't leave yet."

"Leave? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I still have shit to do here. I'm not leaving before it's done."

His eyes narrowed. "You're acting like this is a hotel, not a high-security prison. And what do you even mean?"

Aelin had the good sense to feel a little guilty as she slowly got to her feet and walked to the wall at the back of the cell. A few well-placed taps later, it swung open.

Rowan's mouth dropped open, then closed, then repeated the whole routine like he couldn't decide what to say first.

He apparently figured it out, because it opened again so he accuse, "I knew you were robbing me! Where the fuck is my bed?"

She sighed and rubbed her temples. "That's what you care about right now? Seriously?"

He grumbled something as he got to his feet and leaned into the makeshift doorway in the wall.

It took him a few moments to examine the ladder leading down to the tunnel, and then he straightened and looked at her again with a mixture of confusion, awe, and understanding on his face.

"You've been sneaking out this whole time."

She nodded.

Most of her escapes had been in the past six months, but she'd occasionally left in the years before to check on something or track down a lead.

"You beat up your roommate so they'd put you back in solitary."

Aelin nodded again.

"But how did you know they'd bring you to this cell?"

A small smile pulled on her lips. "Look again," she told him, gesturing towards the open brick door.

He stuck his head in the hole again and couldn't stifle his surprised intake of breath as he saw the other ladders.

He came back in the cell, and the expression on his face made her bite her lip to hold back a smile. "You... you tunneled into prison?"

"Into every solitary cell," she confirmed.

"When? Why?"

"One of my old jobs for Arobynn was to break a client of his out of solitary. I knew which cell he was in, but... getting locked up is kind of a right of passage for my former career, so I figured I'd plan ahead and give myself a way out, should I ever need it." She smiled. "Hamel never could figure out how I did it, so it's safe for me to use now."

Rowan spent a long moment looking at her. "That's... genius."

"I tend to be," she agreed.

They were both silent for a minute, then he said, "You need to tell me everything. Enough of both of us wasting time assuming what the other is thinking. We need to get everything out in the open, and we need to do it now."

Aelin nodded, knowing it was true.

It was time to either finally trust him or kill him, and just the thought of the latter made something inside of her twist so hard she felt nauseous.

She nodded to the tunnel, not wanting to have the following conversation overheard by any prying ears. He nodded and followed her down, closing the door behind him.

When she knew they were alone, she started to explain.

"Maddison Kliff, my first so-called victim, funded her campaign for senator with money from Arobynn Hamel."

Rowan's eyebrows went up in surprise, but he nodded for her continue.

"He gave it to her, with the caveat that when she won, she'd vote against renewable energy for Rifthold. He has millions in oil, so when she did the exact opposite and voted for the green plan that switched the city to 70% electric, he took a pretty hard hit." She took a deep breath. "The day after the vote, I got my orders to kill her."

His jaw clenched.

"I went that night, thinking I could do it. Thinking I'd get it over with and never think about it again. I snuck in her townhouse and had everything set up." She let out a laugh. "But then I realized my deal with Arobynn covered ten of Sam's jobs. If I killed Maddison, and did a good enough job of it to get away with it, I knew he'd put nine more names on the list."

"So you didn't do it," Rowan said, like he already knew but needed to hear her say it.

"So I didn't do it."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, starting to pace. "I ran. And then I went back the next night with a suitcase, a new ID for her, and a plan."

"Why Aruba?" he asked.

"I'd done all that research for our trip," she said, a pang of sadness shooting through her at the memory of planning their first vacation together. "I didn't have time to research another place. And I never told you, but the house I wanted us to rent? You kind of... own it."

"I own a house in Aruba," he repeated slowly, his tone making it clear he didn't understand.

She rolled her eyes at his tone. "Arobynn might be a bastard I'd love to put in a grave, but he paid me well. I was eighteen and didn't know what else to do with the money. So I bought a house."

"In Aruba. In my name."

She nodded. "No one can trace it back to you. It's hidden in an off-shore corporation, owed by another off-shore corporation, but technically, yes, you're the owner. It was going to be your Christmas present."

"You bought me a house," his lips twitched. "For a Christmas present."

"I was in love with you," she muttered. Then pointed out, "My lack of shopping impulse control really isn't the point of the story."

He rolled his eyes, still fighting a grin at her antics. "Please continue."

"Right. So I sent her to the house in Aruba and told her to stay at the house with anyone else he wanted me to kill. I told her to not say a word to anyone besides those people, and that I'd be forced to actually kill her if she did. If Arobynn finds out they're alive, he'll send someone for me."

She explained the list next. "He requires proof of all completed jobs, so I kept the "murder weapons" and made sure the crime scenes had enough blood to indicate the person couldn't still be alive. It was mostly fake, but I took just enough blood from each of the victims and mixed it in to make it realistic enough to fool DNA scanners. Then I put the weapons in storage lockers he owns and wrote the numbers down so I wouldn't forget them."

Rowan nodded, most certainly remembering that part.

He was doing a good job of hiding his emotions, but she still saw how heavily this all weighed on him.

Everything he'd been feeling for eight years was hitting him at once, and while explanation made sense, it probably didn't make him feel any better about the role he'd played in all of this.

He confirmed it by asking, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He asked it almost casually, but she didn't miss the pain he couldn't keep from seeping into his voice.

"I wanted to," she breathed. "Gods, I wanted to. I know now you investigated before giving the list to the cops, but to me, it looked like you found it and just turned me in. You never asked me. And you looked at me... you looked at me like you thought I was guilty. I knew you wouldn't believe me."

Rowan went quiet, regret and shame coming off of him in waves so thick she almost choked on it.

"How is all of this going to play out?" he asked, seemingly trying to force himself to think about something else. "And what do you have to do that you need to be in prison for?"

She hesitated, suddenly not wanting to tell him.

Not out of a lack of trust, but because if she told him... he'd realize she's guilty of the crime she's in prison for. He might go back to hating her, back to thinking her a horrible person.

And she just got him back.

She's pulled from her thoughts when he reaches a hand out, slowly gripping her jaw to tilt her face to his.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, the words final.

Of course he knew what she was thinking just from looking at her face. He always was a little too astute.

A part of Aelin wanted to put on a brave face and act like that wasn't exactly what she'd been worrying about, but a bigger part wanted him. Wanted him to see that even after all this time, she needed him.

So she forced down the witty jokes and sultry smiles she usually used as ways to hide her vulnerability and looked up at him.

"Promise?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "I promise, Aelin."

His hand was still on her face, and he leaned in until his forehead rested against hers. "I'm never going to leave you again. I'm so... I'm so fucking sorry I did in the first place. I should've come to you, or at least listened when you told me you were innocent."

"I'm sorry I thought you didn't fight for me," she said back. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

They'd both done things they regretted, but Aelin knew that now, no matter what, he was telling the truth. He wasn't going to leave her.

The knowledge felt like a weight lifting off her shoulders, and just to lighten the mood, she whispered, "And I'm sorry I stole your bed."

He pulled back to glare at her. "You're going to explain one day how you even pulled that off. But I'd like the answer to my other question first."

Aelin took a step back and ran a hand through her hair.

"Arobynn Hamel dying is the endgame, Rowan. I have to stay in prison so I can kill him and have an alibi no one will question."

He paused, and for a moment, her fears skyrocketed, so she rushed to explain, "As long as he's alive, those people have to be in hiding and I have to look like I killed them. Once he's dead, I can bring them back without worrying Arobynn will kill them. Or me."

He gave her a strange look, but she spoke before he could, explaining, "It's why I've been in prison for so long. I would've killed him and ended it years ago, but I only found him a couple months ago. He's been in hiding ever since I was locked up, because the FBI knew I was one of his and started looking for him."

"Okay, but Aelin-"

She cut him off. "I know it's insane and not at all ideal, but I need you to leave me in here. Just until he's dead, and then it's over."

He stepped forward and grabs her shoulders, shaking her slightly.

And then he did the weirdest thing.

He smiled.

"What the hell do you look happy about?" she demanded. "I'm being serious-"

It was his turn to interrupt her. "Aelin, if that's the stipulation, you're already free."

Unease drifted through her stomach. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he's already dead."

Shock rushed through her so fast and thoroughly, her vision swam and she swayed in his grip. "What... what did you just say?"

"That's why I came today, now. I actually figured out you were innocent two days ago, but I wasn't going to come until I could tell you with certainty I was getting you out, and I knew you couldn't bring everyone back without risking your life. I've spent the past 48 hours planning a jailbreak and a way to sneak you to somewhere the US doesn't have extradition."

He grinned again. "But then it was announced on the 11 o'clock news tonight that he died last week of pneumonia complications. His family kept it private because they wanted a small funeral, but he's dead, Aelin."

Still feeling the weight of shock, she argued, "He's not dead."

"But he is."

"No," she insisted, pushing away from him and starting to pace again. "He can't be dead."

His face softened at the panic in her voice. "Aelin, I know you wanted it to be you, but-"

"No, Rowan, you don't understand. I mean he cannot physically be dead, because I haven't finished killing him!"

It was his turn to be shocked.

"What do you mean you haven't finished killing him?"

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I've been poisoning him since the day I figured out where he holes up. Turns out he has kidney problems and goes in once a week for dialysis. I show up and add a little... extra to his medication. The last time I went was less than a week ago, and while he might have been sick, he most definitely was still alive."

Besides that, what were the odds that Rowan figured out her "victims" were still alive, and just two days later Arobynn croaks?

It would be one hell of a coincidence, and Aelin learned long ago to not believe in those.

His eyes went wide. "What? You mean he faked his death? Why the hell would he do that?"

"Because," she said slowly, dread forming like a lead ball in her stomach as she realized what this meant for her, for the ten people whose lives she'd traded her freedom for. "I told Maddison and the others to wait for news of his death before coming back. I told them that until he was dead, they weren't safe."

She shook her head, whispering, "I told them to watch the news."

Rowan realized what she was saying and cursed.

"He knows."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lemme know in the comments if you want to be tagged!

Part 5 will (realistically) be out in the next three weeks. Sorry for the slow updates; school is consuming all my time and energy.

@audreycressworth @whimsicallyreading @onceupona-chaos @lil-unoriginal-weirdo-273sole @surielandiareendgame @captain-swan-is-endgame @poisonous00 @vasudharaghavan @sailorsassley @endlessdaydream @swankii-art-teacher @thenerdandfandoms @emily-gsh @beanco8 @stokingthemidnightflame @mis-lil-red @ladyfireheart-and-buzzard @sheharahu @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @jorjy-jo @court-of-dreams-and-ashes @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @loudphantomdragon @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[full-of-jams]

Tangsuyuk Love

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: College student Jungkook passes cute notes with a customer who always orders take-out tangsuyuk at his part-time job. Meanwhile he’s trying not to miserably fail his Math class, while hiding his ever-growing crush on you.

Genre: college au, f2l, fluff, smut, one shot, did I mention FLUFF?

Warnings: mild swearing, sexual content, hold your heart palpitations!

Word Count: 11.5k

A/N: I wanted to write something light and sweet before I continued with Good Riddance. It will be easy, she said. It will be fun, she said. It will be quick, she said. Ha. haha. ha. ha. Ignore my pain. Enjoy!

°°°°°°°

[09/04 18:34 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY] 1 Tangsuyuk (large) 1 Jjamppong 2 Kimchi Mandu ---------------- Note: Without pineapple! Please make the jjamppong extra spicy, my boyfriend just broke up with me T-T

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (large) -- 20,000 1 Jjamppong -- 5,000 2 Kimchi Mandu -- 6,000 1 Soju -- 0

Total: 31,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: Service! Nothing’s better than the fresh taste of soju to lighten a heavy heart :) Cheer up LatteIsHorse-Nim!

Paper Note: JK-nim, thanks for the soju. It sweetened my bitter night. This is Tokki, please give him a loving new home! TT-TT

Jungkook was fucking terrified of you. If it weren’t for the fact that he was close to failing Statistical Analysis, he would’ve considered faking a stomach flu and making a beeline straight out of the library.

“If you have a box containing 3 white, 4 red and 5 black balls what is the probability that you will draw a white ball on your first draw and a black ball on your second draw?” you asked again through gritted teeth.

You looked up at Jungkook and were met by an empty stare. Usually you enjoyed tutoring your fellow classmate. He was a smart and funny guy, maybe a bit awkward at times, but always trying his best. Today every little thing grated on your nerves. It took you every ounce of energy to get out of bed and look like a presentable human being this morning. You really didn’t want to sit here for another hour if the boy was just going to stare at you like a petrified statue. “It’s really not that difficult. You just have to apply conditional probability.”

Jungkook let out a frustrated huff and pulled at his hair, “I really don’t know, this doesn’t make any sense! Why do I even need this stuff for my major? Who cares if I pull out a white ball or a black ball first? It’s not like I’m planning on becoming Houdini!”

Sometimes you pitied him, but who on Earth had an irrational fear of Gauss distributions and probability?! They were beautiful, harmless, abstract concepts of life. Your sympathy was muffled by a thrumming headache. All the late-night crying already had you chugging water and slapping ice cubes on your face at breakfast. Right now you just wanted to go home, change into your pjs, order some tangsuyuk and binge watch Boys Over Flowers. The cringy acting and Go Jun Pyo’s luscious locks were the only things that made your miserable life feel a bit less pathetic at the moment. “Jungkook, we went over this last time. Just apply the damn formula,” you snapped.

“Why are you being so scary today?” he asked wide-eyed and apprehensive.

You took a deep breath, rubbed your temples and tried to calm your inner turmoil. It wasn’t his fault; you were just in a really shitty mood. “I’m sorry. It’s not my day today. Is it okay if we rain check? I promise I’ll make it up to you next week.”

Jungkook wasn’t used to seeing you this distraught. He wracked his brain on how to lift your spirit. “Hey, do you want to hear this math joke my friend Jin told me the other day? What do you call an angle that is adorable?”

The boy scrunched his nose adorably and waited for your response. He was really handsome, you noticed that back when you two first met. Back then you just didn’t have a reason to care. Back then you still had a boyfriend.

“I don’t know, tell me,” you answered.

“Acute angle!” he said with a timid smile.

Despite your foul mood you had to snort at his joke.

Jungkook’s smile grew wider. It wasn’t a full laugh, but at least your frown disappeared. He discovered early on that you had a soft spot for bad math puns.

Although he absolutely detested Statistical Analysis, he has come to enjoy your study sessions over the past couple of weeks. The TA of his class, Namjoon, was a close friend of Jungkook’s and a sunbae of yours. Once he discovered that his favorite dongsaeng was abysmal at reading a z-score table, he immediately referred him to you.

At first Jungkook was very reluctant to accept any help. He was a mechanical engineer for fuck’s sake! He calculated distributed load across uneven surfaces and directional derivatives all the time!

His inner protests died down during your first session when you unwittingly asked him if he was constipated while he tried to calculate the standard deviation. During your second session he noticed you liked to doodle small geometric and fractal comics on his work sheets whenever he was solving a problem.

‘What did the triangle say to the circle?’ ‘You’re pointless!’

By the time your third session rolled around he still hated statistics, but it was too late and he’d developed a hopeless crush on you. Your monologues about dead mathematicians and the beauty of an infinite series were oddly captivating. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who was so passionate and animated about anything in all his life.

“Is everything okay?” Jungkook asked carefully. You seemed tired and a bit wary. “I-I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it. Sorry, it’s none of my business,” he immediately added.

You smiled at his flustered state. Jungkook’s heart stumbled when your smile turned sad and you said, “No not really, but I’m sure I’ll be fine sooner or later.”

[13/04 19:12 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (large) 1 Jjajangmyeon 1 Jjajangbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim! Omg your tangsuyuk is the best! I could drown in that sauce! How is Tokki doing?

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (large) -- 20,000 1 Jjajangmyeon -- 4,500 1 Jjajangbap -- 5,500

Total: 30,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! Little Tokki is doing well and bravely guarding our store! Don’t drown, but here’s some extra sauce for you to enjoy. I asked for it to be without pineapple. Hwaiting!

“Yah! Why does it smell like rotten take-out in your bedroom?” Jisoo asked.

Scowling has become your new go-to expression. “Too soon. Just let me wallow in my self-pity and sorrow.”

If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought your friend was playing ‘The Floor Is Lava’ considering how gingerly she walked across your room. Safely on the other side, she ripped open a window to let some much needed fresh air in. 

“I think you’re going to be wallowing in mold and fungus instead,” Jisoo commented with disgust. “Wallow all you want, I’m here to support you, girl. But I can’t allow you to turn your place into a biohazard zone. Isn’t your sister bothered by this?”

“My sister doesn’t care; our rooms are off limits to each other. As long as we both keep the common area clean, she won’t complain,” you said.

Jisoo sat down on your bed and patted the empty spot next to her. She immediately retracted her hand. “Eww, is that tangsuyuk sauce on your sheets?” she asked, completely appalled.

You shrugged and thumped onto your bed.

“So what are your plans for tonight?” she asked, trying to suppress a shudder.

“It’s Monday night. What plans could I possibly have?”

“We’re in college! Weekdays, weekends, they’re all the same!” your friend exclaimed. She looked at your sprawled-out figure. “I told you from the very beginning he wasn’t good for you. I know it doesn’t feel like this right now, but you’re lucky he’s out of your life. I really can’t watch you torture yourself over a jerk like him. Let’s go out to Hongdae!”

“I can’t go out. I already have plans.”

“Didn’t you just say you didn’t have any plans?”

“I lied. I have a date.”

Jisoo paused for a second, unsure how to respond. “Really? With whom?”

“Gong Yoo. We promised to kiss each other on first snowfall,” you responded listlessly.

“Yah!” Jisoo yelled and smacked your butt.

“Oww! What was that for?” you cried in surprise, rubbing the tender spot.

“Re-watching Goblin is not a date! You scared me for a second,” Jisoo said.

“How is it not a date? I meet a hot oppa, multiple hot oppas, we have dinner together, I giggle and blush and at the end of the night I get kissed to sleep.” You sat up and gave your friend a weary look. “I really don’t want to go out right now, but also don’t want to be on my own. Can’t we just stay in and watch a drama?” you asked with the saddest face you could muster.

Jisoo wanted to argue, but she couldn’t resist your pout. “Fine. But first you change your bedsheets, I’m not gonna sit in moldy tangsuyuk sauce all night. And I get to choose the drama.”

“Call!”

[16/04 17:58 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Kimchi Kimbap 1 Beef Kimbap  ---------------- Note: JK-nim thanks for the extra sauce! It was delicious. Are you a dipper or a pourer?

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Kimchi Kimbap -- 2,500 1 Beef Kimbap -- 2,500 1 Soup -- 0

Total: 18,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! Personally, I’m a dipper, but I don’t discriminate! I added some broth as service for you. It’s chilly tonight. Don’t catch a cold!

Paper Note: JK-nim, let’s be friends? I’m also a dipper! Did you know that butterflies can’t fly when they’re cold? Here is one that I folded, sending back my warmest thoughts to you on this frosty spring night.

The first thing that caught your eye was Jungkook who was patiently waiting at the library entrance. Despite the steaming goods in his hands, his entire body was shivering. The temperature suddenly dropped last night, but he couldn’t be bothered to dig up his padded jacket when he left the house this morning.

Before you could even greet him, he shoved a hot milk tea towards you and mumbled, “Here, it’s cold today so I thought you could use something warm.”

You were surprised by this sweet gesture. “Thanks,” you reached for it and examined the drink in your hand, ”How did you know I like black milk tea?”

He ducked his head and mumbled something into himself.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

Jungkook lifted his head. His cheeks and nose were a lovely wash of pink from the cold. “You mentioned once that you’re an OG milk tea drinker, so I just guessed” he repeated again, louder. “I saw this bungeoppang cart on the way here. We can share them while studying?” he said, holding up a small paper bag.

Your heart warmed and for the first time in weeks your face split into big smile, “Sure, I love bungeoppang! We’re not allowed to eat inside the library. So how about we eat everything first before they get cold and then go in?”

The both of you took a seat on a bench. By now Jungkook definitely regretted being too lazy to find his jacket this morning, but he was determined not to let it show. He passed the bag full of bungeoppangs to you.

You happily reached for one of the fish-shaped pastries and started munching on it. Your face crinkled, steam came out of your mouth. Jungkook’s heart skipped as he watched you in fascination. Your cheeks were flushed. A sudden instinct to stroke your rosy skin overcame him. Instead he reached for a bungeoppang and took a careful bite. “Are you feeling better today?”

“A little bit,” you said between bites, “I’m really sorry about last time. I feel bad now. I ditched you and now you’re treating me to snacks.” You went on and stabbed your straw through your milk tea. “I should be the one treating you instead.”

“I like to treat you,” Jungkook said, mesmerized by the way your lips moved against the straw. He suddenly realized what he was doing and cleared his throat, “A happy teacher is a good teacher! You’re already spending your time tutoring me.”

A laugh slipped out of you, “Jungkook, you’re paying me for your lessons. But it’s okay, this bungeoppang and tea definitely hits the spot, so I’ll accept it with a grateful heart. What are you drinking?”

Jungkook looked down on his drink and gave it a shake, the black pearls swirled around buoyantly. “Banana milk tea, I prefer sweet drinks.”

You leaned back against the bench and looked up at the clear blue sky. “Sweet things are the best combat against the bitter taste of life,” you sighed. You closed your eyes and soaked in the crisp air. Jungkook felt your melancholy, he could warm your body, but he didn’t know how to warm your heart.  

“Sorry that I’m bothering you with my personal stuff. It’s just that I had a really bad breakup recently. I shouldn’t let it affect our lessons,” you said with a wistful smile as you lifted your head again.

The boy next to you remained silent. You turned and saw a contemplative look on his face. “It’s alright, everyone can have a bad day,” he finally said, “You don’t have to pretend to be okay when you’re not. If you’re never angry or sad, you won’t know when you’re happy.”

His words stunned you. Has Jungkook always been this thoughtful? You turned away from his gaze and looked down at the pastry in your hand. “They’re rhombus shaped,” you muttered in an attempt of distraction and showed your bungeoppang to Jungkook. “The fish scales,” you added when he looked confused.

“Ah yeah, the scales. It’s actually erroneous since most of the bungeoppangs depict a ganoid scale structure when in fact carps have cycloid scales to allow for a greater flexibility,” Jungkook explained.

A blank look appeared on your face. Probably the same blank look he had whenever you tried to explain the Bayes’ theorem to him. He let out an awkward laugh, “We studied the mechanics of fish scale structures in Material Science. You can correlate the flexibility of a scaled surface depending on its underlying geometric structure and material. It’s pretty cool stuff.”

“I can’t believe you can geek out about the geometry of fish scales, but don’t know how to define your probability population,” you snorted in disbelief. 

“Hey, when will I ever need to calculate the probability of two people with the same birthday in a room? I just have a hard time learning stuff I never have to apply,” he said defensively.

Then you suddenly had an idea. “Tell you what, how about this? If you pass your statistics final, I’ll treat you to the best Chinese take-out in town! You can order whatever you want!”

Jungkook didn’t want to dampen your excitement by telling you that his part-time job already allowed him to eat as much Chinese take-out as he wanted. “Okay, but don’t complain when you go broke. My record was five jjajangmyeon and two tangsuyuk in one sitting.”

You batted away his challenge. “First you have to pass your finals,” you teased.

“I’ll pass,” Jungkook said.

You smiled at his cute determination. “Then it’s a date.”

Jungkook beamed back at you. “It’s a date.”

[05/05 18:21 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (large) 2 Pork Mandu 1 Tteokkguk 1 Jjajangmyeon 1 Tteokkbokki ---------------- Note: No pineapple plz. JK-nim! Happy Children’s Day! For this special occasion I’ve decided to order all of my childhood favorites. Life is too short to eat bad food. I hope today you treat yourself to something delicious as well!

“Yah! JK! Your girlfriend placed an order again!” Yugyeom yelled across the store.

A mop of black hair peaked out from the back of the shop. “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s just a regular,” Jungkook yelled back.

“A regular you flirt with,” Yugyeom snickered, “I saw all the notes you left her in the system. ‘Don’t catch a cold!’, ‘Hwaiting!’ Don’t tell me that’s not your lame attempt at flirting.”

Suddenly an angry Yoongi stomped out of the kitchen. “Keep it down boys, we have guests here.”

Jungkook went up to the register and printed out the online order. “Hyung, can you make a large tangsuyuk without pineapple?”

“It’s a national holiday, there’s like two people here tonight,” Yugyeom muttered under his breath.

“What did you say, Yugyeom?”

“Nothing, hyung!”

Yoongi snatched the order out of Jungkook’s hand and gave both boys another irritated glance before he headed back into the kitchen.

“Hey JK,” Yugyeom said in a lower voice as he moved next to his friend, “aren’t you ever curious how LatteIsHorse is like? I mean, she must have some sense of humor judging by her username.”

“Sometimes. Don’t you ever wonder how our regulars are like? But it’s not like I’m ever gonna meet them or know it’s them when they come into the store,” Jungkook said with a shrug.

“You could though. Mingyu’s out on delivery, Eunwoo’s off so we have a free bike. The store is dead tonight. You could go deliver the order and have a look,” Yugyeom spurred him on.

Jungkook considered his friend’s suggestion. Every time he opened his locker a little origami bunny and butterfly stared back at him and brightened his day. It was true, he was curious how LatteIsHorse was like. “Okay I’ll go, but don’t pretend you’re doing me a favor. You just don’t want to do delivery tonight.”

<Ding Dong>

A pretty girl in a Yonsei hoodie and shorts opened the door. She somehow looked familiar, but Jungkook couldn’t place from where. Maybe he met her on campus before.

“Delivery from Golden Bang,” Jungkook said, holding up his metal box.

“Ah great! I’m starving!” the girl said.

Jungkook started unloading the box and handed the dishes to the girl. Once he was done, he lingered awkwardly in the doorway. The girl gave him a curious look, clearly wondering why he wasn’t leaving. Jungkook gathered his courage and said, “I’m JK by the way.”

What followed was a beat of silence. Jungkook could feel his ears burn.

“Err, it’s nice to meet you, I guess? Is there anything else you need?” the girl asked after the painful pause. “Ah got it! Just a sec!” She ran into the apartment and came back with her wallet. “Here’s a tip, we’ll put the dishes back outside for pick up,” she said as she scrunched a bill into Jungkook’s hand, “Thanks for your hard work. Happy holiday!” And then she shut the door right into his face.

What just happened? Jungkook was stupefied. After an eternity he finally moved and mechanically pulled out his phone. He checked the delivery order on his app. LatteIsHorse – this was the address. She didn’t recognize him. Why was he so naive to believe that she would remember him? All he wanted in that moment was for the ground to open and swallow him up.

“Dinner’s here,” your sister said as you came out of the shower. “Did you order banana milk?”

“No? Why?” you joined her at the dinner table and started rummaging through the dishes. “Where’s the receipt?”

“I threw it in the trash,” she said. When she saw you opening up the trash can and fishing for it, she added, “Gross! What are you doing? Why do you need it?”

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (large) -- 20,000 2 Pork Mandu -- 6,000 1 Tteokkguk -- 4,500 1 Jjajangmyeon -- 4,500 1 Tteokkbokki -- 3,000

Total: 38,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! Happy Children’s Day to you too! I added my favorite childhood drink, banana milk! I hope it brings back as many happy childhood memories for you as it does for me.

There, sitting on the table, was a small bottle of banana milk. A smile spread across your face. “I need to file it away for tax purposes.”

Your sister looked at you like you were crazy. “Let’s eat already, I’m starving. Wash your hands.”

[14/05 16:55 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [TAKE AWAY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Jjajangbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim, hope you’re doing well. I’m in the area today, so I thought I’d stop by and say hello in person! Is it weird that I feel a bit nervous?

The restaurant door wasn’t going to open itself. The past 15 minutes of you standing in front of it has proven that. You had some errands to run in Hongdae after school and decided on a whim to place a pickup order at your favorite take-out place. 

Why was it so difficult to enter a restaurant? If you steeled your nerves any more, they’d probably break from how brittle they’ve become. You just had to open that damn door.

Sometimes you wondered if you liked that place more because of its great tangsuyuk or because of JK’s little notes which always managed to put a smile on your face.

One thing was for sure, you weren’t stalling because of the tangsuyuk.

“Welcome to Golden Bang!” a bright male voice rang across the restaurant as you passed through the door.

You walked up to the register and sneaked a peek at the boy’s name tag, ‘Yugyeom’. You felt a slight twinge of disappointment.

“I’m here to pick up my order? LatteIsHorse?” you asked tentatively.

A sign of recognition flashed across Yugyeom’s face. “Of course, your order’s ready! I’ll just bag it up for you,” he said cheerfully. He walked away and quickly came back with a white plastic bag full of food. Then he printed out your receipt and handed both to you.

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: YG ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Jjajangbap -- 5,500

Total: 18,500 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

You looked around the restaurant, it was empty since dinnertime was still a while away. You wondered if Yugyeom was managing the store alone right now. At least the cook must be in. “Your tangsuyuk is really delicious. It’s probably my favorite.”

Yugyeom gave you a big smile, “Happy to hear that you enjoy our food so much. The tangsuyuk is our chef’s family recipe. It’s one of our most popular menu items!”

You wringed your hands and finally decided to bite the bullet and straight out ask, “Is JK here? He usually takes my orders when I order delivery, so I just wanted to say hi.”

“JK’s shift doesn’t start until 6, so he should be here in about half an hour. If you want, I can relay a message,” he said with a knowing smile, “Or you can also take a seat and wait for him. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to meet you.”

No way you were going to sit here for half an hour and wait up for a stranger. “Ah no, that’s alright. If you could just say hi from me, that’d be great,” you quickly replied with a flush. JK would probably think you’re a creepy stalker.

“Sure, can do! Enjoy your day!” Yugyeom said merrily as you walked out the store.

A feeling of both relief and sadness passed through you. You slowly walked down the busy streets of Hongdae as you reprimanded yourself for being so stupid. What were you going to say to JK anyway if you met him? Thanks for being nice to me? You’re the reason I don’t burst into tears every single night? You’re the reason why I don’t feel completely alone when I’m sobbing into my food over Song Joong Ki’s acting? Thanks for making me gain 3 kilos in the last month?

Whatever you said, it would’ve only made you sound pathetic.

A crippling wave of desperation suddenly washed over you and rooted you in your tracks. A single tear rolled down your face. Then another. You dropped down into a crouch and started to bawl. You couldn’t fathom how you’ve reached this all-time low in your life. Why did you feel so incredibly sad about being stood up by a stranger? Especially when that stranger didn’t even know you were coming?

“Y/N?” an alarmed voice asked. You looked up when you felt a soft shake against your shoulder.

Through your tear-blurred eyes you recognized Jungkook’s face. He crouched down next to you and asked, “Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head and tried to wipe away your tears. It was a useless attempt as they kept on streaming down your face.

Jungkook hesitantly pushed your hair out of your face and asked, “Do you want to go somewhere else so you can tell me what happened?”

You gave him an imperceptible nod.

His hand gently moved down to your arm, afraid that you were going to push him away. With a steady grip he slowly helped you back onto your feet. Then he slid his hand through yours and led you down the hustle and bustle of Hongdae until you ended up in front of a convenience store located in one of the quieter residential side streets. He sat you down in a plastic chair and told you to wait. After a while he came back with a packet of tissues, a bottle of water and two red bean popsicles.

You gratefully took the tissues and loudly blew your nose. A small part of your brain told you to act more ladylike, especially in front of Jungkook, but the bigger part didn’t really care and just wanted to drag you back down into the pits of loneliness. A strangled sound came out of your mouth as you started to hiccup, making you sound like a drowning cat.

You expected Jungkook to laugh at your weird orchestra of emotions. Even you found it absurd and would’ve laughed if you weren’t already crying and hiccupping at the same time. But all he did was quietly open the water bottle and hand it to you.  

As soon as you lifted the bottle to your mouth another hiccup made you almost spill the water on yourself. You held your breath for a few seconds and then took a careful sip. It seemed to work. You took a bigger sip, when another hiccup racked your body and you squeezed water all over your face.

There was a bewildering moment of shock, then you started to laugh deliriously. Forget before, this was your lowest point in life. This was so pathetic that it was hilarious again. Your laughter garbled whenever you hiccupped, only causing you to laugh even harder. You would’ve continued laughing for another long minute if you weren’t choking for air.

A small smile played around Jungkook’s mouth. He took another tissue and started wiping down your face. You hiccupped under his touch. He must think you’re a nutcase.

“I have a question. We have to do some statistical testing in my Quality Management class. What would a hypothesis look like if I wanted to analyze any deviation in a spare parts production line due to temperature conditions?” Jungkook asked.

Did he really forget hypothesis testing already? He finally managed to get it after four sessions! You frowned slightly. “You could set up a null hypothesis stating that a variation in temperature does not significantly impact the parameter of measurement in your production line. Jungkook did you seriously forget this?!” you said indignantly.

Jungkook gave you a playful laugh, “No, I think you drilled it so hard into my brain, I could probably recite all variables of the standard deviation formula if you woke me up in the middle of the night. Your hiccups stopped though.”

They did.

Embarrassment set in as you realized your predicament. Maybe your hormones were going crazy, maybe you were going crazy. You were getting whiplash from the emotional roller coaster you were on. In an attempt to hide your disgrace, you picked up another tissue and wiped away the remaining water, snot and tears.

There was tangible awkwardness in the air.

“I hope you like red bean,” Jungkook said shyly as he unwrapped a popsicle, “Red bean is my favorite. My friends keep on calling me old fashioned, but it just reminds me of the time when my mom used to buy me these after taekwondo class. I think I liked the popsicles more than I liked going to class.” He sighed in reverie and held up the popsicle for you.

You stared at his hand. You remembered how it felt against yours just a few moments ago. Firm, warm and steady. Then you looked up at Jungkook. He hid it well, but you could tell that there was concern behind his encouraging smile.

“This is so embarrassing,” you said as you accepted the popsicle and turned your head away from him, “I don’t know what is wrong with me right now. I’m usually not like this.”

“Did something happen earlier?” Jungkook asked cautiously as he unwrapped his own popsicle and took a bite out of it.

Did something happen earlier? Why did you cry? Where you really crying just because you didn’t meet JK?

“No,” you said and slowly shook your head, “I don’t know. I just suddenly felt overwhelmed.”

Jungkook hesitated before he asked, “Are you sad because of your breakup?”

Were you sad because of your ex-boyfriend?

“I don’t think so. In the beginning when we broke up I was devastated, but I don’t think that’s the case anymore,” you said more to yourself than to Jungkook. “Everyone told me I was lucky to be rid of him. I really didn’t understand why. But I think it’s becoming clearer now. Maybe it’s not sadness. Maybe it’s fear. I think I just feel lost. I don’t know who I am anymore. Maybe it scares me to know that I was able to lose myself and I don’t know if I can find a way back.”

Before you knew it, you spilled your heart, your deepest and darkest fears to Jungkook. You barely knew this boy, yet it still felt oddly comforting. He remained quiet and listened.

“I wanted to meet someone today, but they weren’t there,” you continued, “I think in that moment I just realized how utterly lost I was on my own.”

Jungkook searched for the appropriate words. How do you respond to someone’s most vulnerable thoughts? “I mean you know what they say. It’s not about how much you’ve lost, it’s about how much you have left.”

He peeked at you to check if it worked.

“Jungkook, did you just quote Iron Man at me?” you asked incredulously before a giggle slipped from your lips.

You noticed how his cheeks dimpled when he gave you an embarrassed laugh, “Sorry, I was trying to say something that would cheer you up. I’m probably not doing a very good job.”

In that second you realized how kind-hearted Jungkook actually was. Your heart squeezed. “Don’t say that. Thanks for listening to my problems. And thanks for the red bean popsicle. I also ate this a lot in my childhood. Mainly because my sister hated them. She always used to steal my ice cream out of the freezer so at some point I asked my parents to only buy me red bean popsicles. She never touched those,” you reminisced.

Jungkook laughed at your story, “Your sister sounds like a piece of work.”

“We used to fight a lot, we used to never get along,” you became thoughtful, “At some point that stopped. I think we just grew up and grew to understand and accept our differences. She doesn’t steal my food anymore. I don’t steal her clothes anymore. We may not always agree, but we respect each other’s decisions.”

“You know, for someone who just said she feels lost, you sound pretty self-reflected right now,” Jungkook mused, “Maybe you need to do the same as you did with your sister. Understand yourself and accept the differences of your past and present.”

You paused at this. He was right. You were so desperately trying to fend off these negative emotions that you never took the time to actually think. You were chasing an image that never existed. Not in the past nor in the present.

“You’re surprisingly good at giving advice. Thanks, Jungkook,” you said.

“Surprisingly? What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, offended. The glint in his eyes gave his teasing away.

Laughter pealed from you. Jungkook was captivated by the sound. He drank in the way your eyes creased with mirth and followed your fingers as they brushed back your hair.

Jungkook’s phone vibrated. “Oh shit!”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I was actually on my way to work and my boss is asking me where I am,” he said as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

Jungkook startled when you suddenly jumped up. “Then you should get to work! You should’ve said something sooner. I’m so sorry for keeping you here!”

“No, it’s really fine. I’ve done enough overtime. He won’t complain if I’m a few minutes late,” he said, “Are you feeling better?”

You ignored his question and pushed against his shoulders to get him out of the chair. “Go to work, Jungkook. I’ll be fine, your red bean popsicle did wonders,” you responded placatively.

When he still didn’t move, you grabbed his arm and pulled him back onto the main street. Jungkook’s skin scorched under your touch. “Go to work, Jungkook,” you said again with more emphasis.

“Are you sure…?” he asked, unwilling to let you out of his sight before he knew you weren’t just going cry again at the next street corner.

“I won’t burst into tears,” you said as if reading his mind. “You were right, I need to reconcile with myself. So I’ll go home, enjoy my dinner and think about who I am and who I want to be. And you,” you said giving him another gentle shove, “need to go to work.”

Jungkook saw the stubborn look on your face. He wondered if you realized you were using your teaching voice right now. You weren’t going to take no for an answer. “Okay fine, text me when you get home?”

You waved away his concerns. “Sure. Go already,” you said with a big reassuring smile. “See you tomorrow at school!” you added before you turned around and walked away.

“You’re late,” Yugyeom said as soon as Jungkook entered the store.

Jungkook gave Yugyeom a sheepish look and only muttered, “Yeah sorry, something came up on my way here.” Then he rushed past him to the back of the restaurant and changed into his uniform.

Once he came back out he noticed Yugyeom throwing him strange looks.

“What?”

“Your girlfriend says hi,” Yugyeom said with a hint of amusement.

“Who?”

Yugyeom gave Jungkook a meaningful look, “LatteIsHorse. She ordered pick up. I think she was hoping to meet you. She’s cute. She looks like she’s probably a college student around here.”

“I know,” was all Jungkook replied.

Yugyeom’s eyes bulged in curiosity, “You know? You know she’s cute or you know she’s a student? You never told me what actually happened that night!”

Jungkook gave him a tired look and said, “She didn’t recognize me. She wore a Yonsei hoodie, so I guess she goes there. Nothing else happened.”

“Hmm, that’s weird. She was asking for you today, so she definitely knows your name,” Yugyeom said.

“Who knows, maybe she was having a lot on her plate that day,” Jungkook said with a shrug. He wondered where you lived and if you already got home safely. “Why are you obsessing over this so much?”

“Man, do you know how painful it is to watch your sorry attempts at flirting? I’m just trying to help you out, mate,” Yugyeom quipped.

“I wasn’t flirting! I was just trying cheer someone up who was obviously feeling down! It’s called being a decent human being,” Jungkook exclaimed.

Yugyeom gave him the side eye, “Yeah, that’s still not gonna get you laid.”

[19/05 18:47 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Bibimbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim, I visited you at the store last week, but you weren’t there. TT-TT I hope you don’t think I’m weird, I just really like talking to you. You always manage to put a smile on my face when I’m having a hard day. We’re still friends, right?

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Bibimbap -- 5,000

Total: 18,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! I’m sad that I missed your visit to our store. I’ll try harder the next time! I added some extra bulgogi to make up for it. :) Of course we’re still friends. I don’t wish any hard days upon you, but I’m glad to hear that my words have a healing effect. In case you ever need a friend to talk to, feel free to talk to me. 010-1234-5678.

The study sessions with Jungkook continued per usual. He still struggled and had frustrated outbursts from time to time, especially when you forced him to revise probability distributions. When you finally reached regression analysis, things became easier.

Although your sessions remained the same, something in your dynamic changed. The both of you became looser and more playful around each other. He wouldn’t clamp up anymore and you felt more at ease around him. You became friends. He never once mentioned that disasterous afternoon.

At home, on the evening of the incident, you shot Jungkook a text and slumped down on the couch. Your sister was out that night, so it was just you in the apartment. Normally, the eerie quiet would’ve unsettled you and you would’ve distracted yourself from your deafening thoughts. But that night you just let them scream, yell and tear at you.

It was an excruciating process, but in the end your head was clearer, your heart calmer. You still weren’t quite there yet, but at least you made a first step out of the endless pit of desperation.

There were other things you noticed about yourself. Gradually you realized you didn’t mind being on your own anymore. You rediscovered your love for drawing and created you own mandala art. You also learned to code your own website and now had a clickable version of your cv on the go. Although you made time for yourself, you weren’t a hermit. You went out for drinks with Jisoo and soon asked Namjoon to take you along to your university’s Math Club. There you met a lot of familiar faces that you’ve encountered in class but never talked to. With them you spent animated evenings discussing stimulating math problems and exchanging incredibly bad math puns.

You also started noticing things about Jungkook. He wasn’t as timid and shy as you initially thought. Once he got over his awkwardness, he turned out to be quite a cheeky and goofy guy. He teased you or told you silly jokes whenever you were on a break. Despite his obvious aversion for statistics, he still took your lessons very seriously. Diligently listening to your explanations and trying to solve the problems to the best of his abilities. His study-mode showed you other sides of him. The cute pout he had whenever he tried to hide his confusion. Or the two little ridges which formed between his eyes whenever he was concentrated and deep in thought. More often than not you fought the urge to smooth them out with your touch or even better, with a kiss.

“Is something wrong?” Jungkook asked when he caught you staring.

“No,” you quickly said, “I was just thinking that you don’t seem to have much trouble with regression analysis.”

“I don’t know, the relationship between the variables just makes much more sense,” Jungkook said.

You looked at him and considered, “Hmm, maybe you don’t need my tutoring anymore?”

Brief dismay crossed Jungkook’s face. “My finals are in three weeks. I think I’d still prefer if you helped me revise the earlier chapters,” he said, “Unless you need more time to study for your own finals.”

Being in college meant that you were always in dire need of more time. That constant nagging voice in the back of your head telling you to study was an occupational disease. But you didn’t have to kid yourself, those four hours a week spent on Jungkook weren’t going to make or break your grade. Besides, you enjoyed spending time with him. You wondered if he felt the same.

“It’s alright, I’ll help you revise. Just don’t embarrass me on your finals. I don’t want Namjoon to tell me afterwards that you didn’t manage to calculate the mean of the population or worse, read the scoring table upside down,” you teased him light-heartedly.

Jungkook’s ears turned bright red. “That happened once!” he said, “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”

You laughed at his indignation. “Don’t forget, you’ll get endless tangsuyuk if you pass.”

[26/05 20:09 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Jjamppong ---------------- Note: JK-nim, I’d like to get the advice of a friend. There’s this kind, sweet boy that I really like. I would like to tell him how I feel, but he’s seen me in my lowest and ugliest moments. Maybe he’ll think I’m just baggage? I guess I’m afraid of his rejection.

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Jjamppong -- 5,000 1 Soju -- 0

Total: 18,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! It’s only human to fear rejection. I can completely understand. I also have someone I really like. She’s really pretty, smart and funny. Spending time with her makes me really happy, but I never managed to tell her. Maybe we should both gather our courage and cheer each other on? I’m not saying that drunken confessions are the way to go but consider this soju a symbolism for (liquid) courage.

Paper Note: This is a flexagon. Whenever you need a word of encouragement give it a flip!

Jungkook examined the hexagonal origami in his hands. On the outside it read ‘Flip Me!’

He gave the flexagon a flip. ‘JK you’re the best!’ And another. ‘The world needs more people like you!’ And another. ‘Don’t forget that LatteIsHorse is always rooting for you!’ And another. ‘Aja, aja, hwaiting!’ And another. ‘Thank you for being my friend!’

Jisoo barged into you room and flopped onto your bed. ‘Ahhh! I’m so glad you finally cleaned in here. Seriously, if I find another rancid noodle stuck to my clothes, I’ll call in a hazmat team.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining so much. It’s not even your room,” you said.

“Hey, where are you ever going to find a friend like me?”

Your friend sacrificed many a night away from college parties to binge watch handsome oppas sweep equally beautiful unnies off their feet with you. And she wasn’t shy telling you that.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Jisoo suggested. She rolled back onto her feet and started walking around, inspecting your cleaning job.

“Our finals start in two weeks; I really don’t want to spend my weekend nursing a hangover.”

“I’m not saying you have to get wasted. Tonight is the Pre-Game Night. We have to go!” Jisoo demanded.

The Final’s Pre-Game Night was a campus-wide tradition. Every semester on the Friday a week before finals huge parties were thrown to signal the beginning of the end. It was like a dare – were you confident enough to get completely drunk and still hope to pass your finals? Naturally everybody on campus joined in and drank.

“Not getting wasted at a Pre-Game party? That’s like saying you’ve decided you don’t need to breathe. I really don’t think…”

“What’s this?” Jisoo suddenly interrupted. “LatteIsHorse-nim! Personally, I’m a dipper, but I don’t discriminate! I added some broth as service for you. It’s chilly tonight. Don’t catch a cold!” she read aloud, “LatteIsHorse-nim! Happy Children’s Day to you too! I added my favorite childhood drink, banana milk! I hope it brings back as many happy childhood memories for you as it does for me.”

You flung yourself across the room and almost tripped over your own feet trying to rip the receipts out of Jisoo’s hands.

“Oh. My. God. Is your take-out guy flirting with you?!” she asked.

“No! He’s just a friend. We send encouraging notes to each other,” you tried to explain.

Jisoo threw her hands in the air. “Okay that’s it! We’re going to the Pre-Game party, whether you want or not. You can’t tell me that the only flirting interaction you have is with a stranger who delivers you tangsuyuk!”

The place Jisoo picked out was ram packed and buzzing with energy. It was an open dorm party; all the common rooms were transformed into dancefloors. Different types of music played from each corner of the building. Crates of alcohol were stacked against the walls.

The both of you grabbed a beer and made your way through the crowd.

“You’re going to have fun tonight, alright?”

“I don’t think this works that way,” you laughed.

“Then put some effort into it. We look way too cute for it to go to waste,” she said as you roamed around the floors and explored the different areas. You looked down on your dress. It was a pretty warm night; you had opted for a flowy summer dress with a blush pink floral pattern. Jisoo was right, it was cute.

You discovered a familiar face at the edge of the crowd. “Sunbae!” you said.

Namjoon turned around gave you a surprised smile. “Y/N! Out of all the places on campus, we meet each other here tonight. What are the chances?”

He was surrounded by a group of friends, you spotted Jungkook right behind him. The boy gave you an excited wave. A slow smile spread across your face. “I don’t know, but why don’t we ask Jungkook to calculate it for you?”

Namjoon let out a hearty laugh while Jungkook groaned in exasperation.

“Do you see what I have to put up with every week, hyung?”

“Didn’t you just say it’s the best thing that happened to you?” Namjoon taunted, “You have some nerve showing up in front of me tonight. You better ace your SA finals. Do you know how many favors I had to pull to get Y/N to tutor you?”

“What do you expect me to do?” Jungkook sputtered, “Go home and lock myself up on Pre-Game Night?”

If it weren’t for Jisoo you would’ve done just that. Speaking of Jisoo, your friend cleared her throat and gave you a painful nudge in the side.

“Ah yes, uhm, Jisoo you already know Namjoon. This is Jungkook. You know, the guy I’m tutoring.”

Jungkook gave her a small wave.

Jisoo didn’t even try to hide her amazement. “This is Jungkook? But you’re like wayyy cute!” She turned to you and added still loud enough for everyone to hear, “Why didn’t you tell me he was cute?!”

The embarrassment was obvious on Jungkook’s face. You could tell that Namjoon was getting a rush out of his dongsaeng’s reaction and before he could provoke him any further you decided to jump in.

“Who wants to go dance?” you asked loudly. You turned around and headed to the dancefloor without waiting for any of them to respond.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were tutoring a hunk?” Jisoo muttered under her breath.

“He’s not a hunk. Don’t call him that.”

“Yeah but he’s hot. You made him sound like he was a nerd.”

“He is a nerd.”

Your friend gave you a glare, “Why are we arguing about this? I know you’re not that oblivious.”

Of course you weren’t oblivious to Jungkook, but you weren’t going to tell Jisoo that.

“Let’s dance.” You grabbed Jisoo’s hand and twirled her around.

Namjoon and his friends joined you on the dancefloor. The mood of the crowd was electric. Music pulsed through your veins. Drinks flowed, shots were downed, people pulled out their best, lamest, craziest dance moves. Everyone celebrated like the world was going to end.

After a while you became hot and needed a new drink. You looked around for Jisoo and saw her grinding up against one of Namjoon’s friends. She’d be busy for a while. You inconspicuously moved away from the group and decided to go get some fresh air.  

“Wait up,” Jungkook said as he appeared next to you, “are you getting something to drink? I’ll join you.”

His dark curls were slightly matted with sweat. His baggy t-shirt clung to his body. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or Jisoo’s damn voice whispering into your ear. He was hot.

You circled your arm through his and pulled him through the crowd. His muscles shifted under your touch. You grabbed two drinks from a crate and handed one to Jungkook, your nerves tingled when his hand brushed against yours. The both of you remained in comfortable silence, leisurely walking through the dorm, neither of you in a hurry to get back to your friends. You explored the facility areas, weaving through pounding and quiet parts of the building.

“You look really nice tonight,” he said after a while.

The heels of your shoes echoed against marble floor of the dark hallway. “Thanks, Jisoo raided my closet.”

“She’s really something isn’t she?”

“She’s the best. I’m grateful to have her as my friend.”

Somewhere further down the hallway you made out two figures pressed against the wall, probably trying to find a quiet place of their own.

“You also look nice,” you said to Jungkook.

“I’m wearing the same things I always do,” Jungkook said, his voice turning shy.

You were getting closer to the couple. You could see how the guy was sticking his tongue down the girl’s throat. She seemed to enjoy it from the sounds she was making. Lucky them.

Your next words were definitely fuelled by your tipsy state, “I guess that means you always look nice.” Jungkook missed a step. You had to laugh at his blunder.

The couple in front of you broke apart and looked in your direction. More annoyed about being interrupted rather than embarrassed being caught. You were about to make a funny comment to Jungkook when your heart stopped and you froze.

A string of saliva still clung to the guy’s lips. His eyes widened when he recognized your face in the darkness. “Y/N?”

Your breath hitched and your grip tightened around Jungkook’s arm. He glanced between you and the guy, the situation slowly dawning on him.

“Why did you stop? Who’s that?”, the girl whined.

“No one,” the guy responded as he returned his attention to her and they started making out again.

Jungkook didn’t know if he wanted to puke or punch that guy. A sharp pain in his arm brought him back to his senses. Your nails dug into his skin. He put his hand around yours and loosened your iron grip.

“Let’s go,” he said and quickly pulled you past the couple. You followed him in a daze. He stopped once you were outside of the building, hidden away in a quiet corner.

His hands reached for your face and he lifted your eyes to his. “Breathe.”

You closed your eyes, let out a long breath and let your head fall against the wall behind you. The horrible encounter replayed in your mind. You had to open your eyes again.

There he was right in front of you. Worried Jungkook, kind Jungkook, beautiful Jungkook.

Your hands reached behind his neck and you pulled him a bit closer. You tried to decipher his gaze, it was dark and yearning. Everything was a haze, the alcohol in your blood made you daring.

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

His mouth crashed against yours. Your hands slipped up into his hair and your bodies entwined. You opened your lips and sucked in his hot breath. Your tongues found each other; he groaned at your taste.

He moved one of his hands down your side until he found purchase on your leg and hitched it up against his waist, pressing his body further into you. You let out a moan when his hips ground into yours.

All your senses drowned in Jungkook. You drowned in his scent, you drowned in his touch, you drowned in his heat. You tried to use Jungkook to drown out the grotesque image from before. Suddenly the heat of the moment disappeared, and a cold shower ran down your spine.

You broke away from your breathless kiss and put your hands against Jungkook’s chest to put some distance between you. He gave you a disoriented look.

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have kissed.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew wide and alarmed. “Did I do something wrong?”

His lips were swollen, his hair was mussed. You wanted nothing more than to pull him back in, but you couldn’t. Not here. Not like this. He deserved better.

You pushed yourself off the wall and gave him a small shove. He immediately let go of you and stepped back. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like this,” was all you said before you ran back into the building.

The next day you woke up to a splitting headache and a heart full of regret. You really needed to talk to Jungkook and explain to him why you ran away the previous night, but you were too much of a coward to pick up your phone and contact him. You decided it was better to talk to him in person at school.

The following week at school you waited for him in the library. Your heart was in your throat. Your prepared speech played in an endless loop in your head.

‘I’m sorry I ran away. I shouldn’t have kissed you in that state. It wasn’t fair to you. You deserve better than that.’

You looked down on your phone to check the time. A message blinked. You opened and read through it. Your heart sank. He wasn’t coming. He wanted to study the last week before finals on his own. He thanked you for your time.

Slowly you got up and packed your bag. You blew it. You wanted to do him right, but you only caused him pain. Thinking back, you realized he gave and gave and gave and all you did was take. He was right to stay away from you. There was no way he’d be happy with someone like you.

The week passed and finals week commenced. You immersed yourself in your exams and tried to get over your heavy heart. You were pretty sure you aced Geometry II, but the Numerical Analysis exam was nothing but a blur.

Although your heart ached, you didn’t fall back into the same dark pit of the past. You didn’t feel lost, you got on with your life. Nobody noticed the Jungkook-sized hole in your heart except for you. You wanted to talk about your feelings, but you didn’t think Jisoo or your sister would understand. They’d probably just tell you to get out there and find a new guy.

Another week passed. You were walking out of your professor’s office, finalizing the details of your summer internship, when you bumped into Namjoon.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? Aren’t you off for summer break yet?” he asked.

“I was just discussing my internship with Prof. Kim,” you said.

“Ah you’re participating in his research program?” Namjoon said, “I heard it’s really interesting, he’s intense though.”

“I think intense is fine for me, I need something to do with my brain. Otherwise I’ll just go crazy,” you said with a smile.

“Speaking of intense, what did you do to that kid?” Namjoon suddenly asked.

You tensed. Did something happen to Jungkook? “What do you mean?”

“Did you brainwash him or something? He got a 98 on his SA final! When I handed him over to you, he was still asking me why the positive and negative z-scores tables had different values,” Namjoon said in awe.

Relief washed through you and your chest filled with pride. “Watch out sunbae, I might be coming for your TA position,” you said with a wink.

At home you sprawled out on the couch. Your sister’s classes ended earlier than yours so now she was away with her friends travelling the countryside. Your mind wandered as you stared up at the ceiling of your quiet apartment. You really wanted to call Jungkook and congratulate him, but you didn’t think you should. He clearly didn’t want to be in contact with you, you hadn’t heard anything from him since his text canceling your study sessions.

A pang of sadness washed through you. It should have been a happy moment for the both of you, you should be eating tangsuyuk together right now. You really wanted to tell someone about your joy and your grief.

Then you suddenly remembered your friend. Your friend who never judged and always had something wise to say. Maybe he would understand the conflicts of your heart. You got up and dug through the receipts on your desk until you found the one with his phone number on it.

You hoped he wouldn’t think you were crazy, but then again, he was the one who offered himself to talk to you any time. You typed in the number and hit call. Your phone dialed when suddenly the number displayed switched to a name. Jungkook.

You quickly hit the cancel button and stared at your phone. Did you accidentally hit Jungkook’s contact? Was your phone broken? This time you typed in the number more carefully and hit call. Again, the display switched to Jungkook’s name. You hit cancel.

Your heart began to race. You opened up Jungkook’s contact and compared it with the number on the receipt.

Holy shit.

JK was Jungkook. Jungkook was JK.

The stranger who cheered you on and made you smile whenever you felt down was Jungkook. You combed through all your receipts and reread them one by one. What was the probability for this to happen? This was so bizarre, but it made so much sense. Jungkook was the kindest person you knew. Why wouldn’t he be kind to a stranger who needed some uplifting words and comforting tangsuyuk?

[13/06 18:20 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

3 Tangsuyuk (large) 6 Jjajangmyeon ---------------- Note: JK-nim, I hope you’re doing well! Can I ask you for a strange favor? Would you mind delivering today’s order to me? I would really like to meet you and thank you in person for always being by my side! <3

<Ding Dong>

The doorbell rang. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. You slowly walked up to the door and opened it.

“Delivery from Golden…,” Jungkook’s voice faltered.

“Hi JK-nim,” you said quietly. You opened the door wider. “Thanks for coming today.”

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asked.

You had to smile at his look of utter confusion. “I live here. Come in, you can put the food on the dining table.” You turned around and walked back into the apartment.

Jungkook hesitated before he followed you inside. He moved up to the table and unloaded his box. He tried to steady himself. “You’re LatteIsHorse-nim?” he asked skeptically, “I’ve been here before. Last time someone else opened the door.”

He has visited you before? “Oh, that was probably my sister. I live here with her. She’s out travelling right now.”

“So you’re on your own right now? Why did you order so much food?” he asked. A giant mountain of neatly stacked dishes graced the table.

You came up and pried the metal box out of his hand. Then you moved in front of him and unclasped his bike helmet. He flinched at your sudden closeness.

“To celebrate. Congratulations on passing your Statistical Analysis exam. Namjoon told me you passed in flying colors,” you said in a gentle voice. “I promised you the best Chinese take-out in town, didn’t I?”

Jungkook still looked shell-shocked and simply stared at you.

“I’m sorry about that night at the Pre-Game party. I’m sorry I ran away. I owe you an explanation.”

Jungkook regained his wits and swallowed. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself. I get it, we were drunk. It was a mistake.” He looked down and tried to turn back around.

You grabbed onto his hands before he could move away. “Jungkook, look at me.”

He stopped turning, but his eyes remained on the floor.

You took a deep breath and squeezed his hands. “I really like you. I’ve really liked you for a while now.”

His eyes shot up to your face.

“The reason why I ran away that night was because I felt guilty. I probably would’ve ended up kissing you anyway, but in that moment, I kissed you because I wanted to forget. I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that. I wanted it to be the me who liked you and not the me who tried to drown out her shitty ex-boyfriend. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

There was an unreadable look in his eyes. Your heart fluttered in nervousness. “How long have you known I was JK? How long did you know I had a crush on you?” he asked.

You could feel your blood rushing through your ears, the butterflies in your stomach beat like crazy. “Since today. I was sad because I thought I couldn’t share the promised meal with you. I wanted a friend to talk to, so I thought to call you. You who was always kind to me, even when I wasn’t kind to myself. Isn’t fate strange? We cheered each other on to find each other.” You had to laugh at the irony of it all.

Your hand hesitantly moved up to his face and stroked across his cheek, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I made you sad.”

Jungkook melted against your touch. “If I’m never sad, I won’t know when I’m happy.” Then he closed the gap and pressed his lips against yours.

It was a sweet but sad kiss. Filled with happiness and sorrow. Every touch was filled with an ‘I missed you’ or an ‘I’m sorry’.

Jungkook pressed you against the edge of your dining table, he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You both deepened your kiss. Your hands snaked through his hair and pulled him closer into you. Jungkook braced his hands against the table and instinctively ground his hips against your core. You moaned his name at the sensation. The both of you broke apart to catch your breaths, you pulled at his jacket and removed his layers of clothing.

You stilled at the sight of his bare chest. He was truly beautiful. Your fingers traced along his skin and marvelled at its silkiness. Jungkook shuddered under your touch. His hands moved under your shirt and you both lifted it off your head. Then you gripped his hands and slowly led them around your back, urging him to take off your bra. You wriggled out of your jeans and laid yourself completely bare in front of him. Jungkook stopped and stared at you, equally amazed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

Your heart swelled and you pulled him back into a kiss. Both his kisses and his hands left a burning trail down your body. His mouth sucked on the soft skin of your neck while his hands moved across your breast, across your stomach, lower and lower. Wetness gathered between your legs.

“Jungkook,” you sighed. The muscles of his back shifted under your touch.

He released your neck with a loud smack and looked at the artwork he created. He still couldn’t get over how overwhelmingly beautiful you were. Your cheeks flushed, eyes bright and his name at the tip of your tongue. He felt himself strain against his confines.

“Please,” you whimpered. You looked down at his hand and tried to silently command him to touch you.

He kept his eyes trained on your face when his fingers moved lower and slid through your folds. Another moan left your lovely lips. He teased you with his touches, gathering your wetness until he finally pushed down where you wanted him most. Your hands dug into his back, your hips bucked, and you threw your head back in pleasure. He steadied your hips with his other hand and slowly pushed a finger inside of you. Another loud moan echoed through the room.

Jungkook was transfixed by you. He added a second finger and started pushing in and out. Your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and small breathless pants left your mouth. Jungkook increased the speed of his movement and marvelled at the way you reacted under his touch. Then he moved his mouth to your breast and closed his lips around your nipple. You raked your hands through his hair and arched into him. Your core tightened around his fingers. All your nerves were on fire.

You pulled him away from your breast and guided his mouth back to yours. Your tongue traced his lips and you swallowed his moan. You wanted more, you wanted him closer. His fingers curled and his thumb pressed down on you. Jungkook held you tight as you shuddered and fell apart around him.

He rested his forehead against yours, your breath mingled as you both panted into each other. He slowly removed his hand from you and traced his mouth with his slicked fingers, then he moved them to your lips. Your tongue licked the tips of his fingers. His grip tightened around your waist.

“I want to feel you,” you said.

Jungkook shuddered at your words. “Where is your room?”

“The door behind you.”

Jungkook lifted you off the table, you tightened your legs around him and gave him another kiss. He walked you both to your room and gently laid you down on your bed. He took off his pants, then slowly moved onto the bed and hovered above you.

“Tell me what you want,” he said.

Your fingers caressed his face. “I want you to be happy.”

Another shudder ran through him. “I am happy. What else?”

You traced his eyes, his nose, his lips. “I want to be the one making you happy.”

Jungkook couldn’t contain himself anymore. His heart felt like it was about to explode. He covered your body with his and pressed himself into you. Your eyes rolled back as he entered you slowly. You felt so full you wanted to burst out of your skin. You could feel how the Jungkook-sized whole in your heart filled up again.

He rocked into you and took your breath away. Your nails raked across his back and left red lines against his smooth skin. Jungkook ducked his head into the crook of your neck and moaned against your skin. Every pull dragged pleasure out of you, every push brought you closer together.

You wanted more. Jungkook gave you more.

You wanted him closer. Jungkook pushed deeper into you.

With every moan, Jungkook pushed harder, pushed deeper. He wanted to melt into you. He wanted the lines between you and him to disappear. Your desire was his desire. His pleasure was your pleasure.  

Jungkook could feel you tightening around him. He moved his mouth over yours and gave you an ardent kiss. The light of your desire turned brighter and brighter until it burst apart into a thousand little flames. You cried against his lips and let the heat consume you. Your body pulsed around his and the overwhelming sensation brought him right over the edge with you.

The both of you laid on your bed and clung to each other. Neither of you willing to let the other go. Your pounding chests beat in tandem. Jungkook stroked his hand across your hair and kissed your head.

“I want you to be happy too,” he said.

“I know,” you said as you smiled against his chest, “You make me happy.”

Jungkook pulled you tighter into him and you remained silent for a while. His hand traced lazy patterns against your skin. Your breathing evened out.

“Are you allergic to pineapple?” he suddenly asked.

You looked up at him in surprise. “No. Why?”

“Because you always order tangsuyuk without pineapple.”

“Oh. That’s because my sister hates pineapple.”

Jungkook frowned, you pulled yourself up and kissed the little ridges between his eyes.

“What?” you asked.

“I think the jjajangmyeon is all soggy by now,” he said.

You had to laugh. “Probably, but the tangsuyuk should still taste great.”

Jungkook kissed you with a smile. “You’re right, tangsuyuk always tastes great.”

°°°°°°°

02/05/20

Copyright © 2020 full-of-jams. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, repost or translate without permission.

[leiawritesstories]

Speak To My Heart

Rowaelin Month, Day 15: A bad day

Word count: 3422

Warnings: language, bit of depression, fighting. In short, there is angst in this fic. Hope the ending makes up for the rest.

Linguistics and foreign languages are two of my personal passions, so please bear with the bits of language talk that I couldn’t resist including. Brief word of clarification: a lot of expressions we use in English either translate into something extremely rude or don’t make sense in other languages. Translation companies have been trying for quite some time to make sure they don’t accidentally send a client a translated instruction manual that reads “fuck your mother” instead of “for questions, contact your local energy department.” All right I’ll get off my soapbox. :)

The phrases in foreign languages, marked with *, are translated into English at the end. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan’s day had been shit. The second he walked through the door, he’d been bombarded with an endless slew of crash reports, malfunctioning equipment, faulty passwords, and best of all, having to rewrite half the security firewalls because one of the rash young idiots in his department couldn’t be bothered to check his work for errors before sending it to management. And management thought it was the department boss’s job to fix all of his employees’ fuckups.

He hated IT.

Even more so since being promoted to department chair. 

All he wanted to do was the fun stuff--program design and development, fixing the flaws in his own designs, and of course making those who tried to break into his company’s systems regret their pitiful existence. But Cadre Tech’s bitch of a CEO refused to let the best software engineer on her staff actually do his job. 

Most days, he could cope with the pile of useless shit she directed to his desk. Most days. Today was not one of those days. Probably because on top of all the meaningless tasks he’d had to field, he was also forced to sit through one of Maeve’s bullshit “department head strategy sessions,” where every department chair had to pretend they gave a single shit about any word coming from their CEO’s garishly red, pinched mouth. 

As if she knew anything her staff actually did. 

Thanks to the compulsory meeting, Rowan was stuck in his office at nearly ten o’clock, painstakingly combing through the final draft of the update to CT’s translation program. This program had shot the company to fame and fortune, or at least insane stock value. “A Google Translate that actually translates,” their marketing department called it, and by the gods, that stupid slogan worked. And made sense. Rowan knew the program was just as good as it claimed to be.

He’d put in the hours, alongside a team of linguists, software engineers, designers, and people fluent in at least one other language. Frequent were the sessions where the project whiteboard turned into a jumble of words in twenty or more languages, Spanish alongside Arabic next to a column of simplified Japanese characters spilling over into a row of Cyrillic lettering. Rowan himself spoke German and some Spanish, but even he was lost amid the cacophony of eighteen different people switching from language to language, trying to figure out how idiomatic expressions translated from one language to another and what words should never, ever be placed together. 

It took the team well over a year of bickering, or as they called it, friendly linguistic disagreements, to make it from loosely mapped concept to functioning program. By the time it hit the market three years ago, the software had been so well promoted that companies all over the world snapped up their chance to finally communicate properly with the client they’d offended years ago with a bad translation. 

At launch, of course, Maeve stood in front of a sea of shouting reporters brandishing microphones, smiling her serpentine smile, and proceeded to thank the creative team for all their “contributions” before taking all the credit herself. 

Said creative team went to the bar that had become their usual gathering spot that night to get drunk and shit-talk their horrible boss, not necessarily in that order. 

His favorite memory of that night was hearing the chief linguist, an outside contract with multiple advanced degrees who spoke eight separate languages besides English fluently, refer to Maeve as “quella puttana rugosa che non riusciva a convincere un cazzo a venire a dieci metri da lei se si vestiva da figa.*” The Italian speakers on the team were crying with laughter, and so was everyone else, once she translated it.

And then she downed another shot of vodka and hissed something that sounded like “sukya bliyad, no puedo mich betrinken con esta ordures.**” When everyone blinked in confusion, she sighed and relayed the sentiment in English. 

Nobody had laughed as hard as Rowan. Aelin Galathynius just had that effect on him.

She brightened his darkest days.

But she couldn’t ease the strain of today.

And it was all his fault.

~

Aelin glanced up at the clock on her wall and cursed in three different languages when she saw that it was nearly eleven. Without meaning to, she’d spent all afternoon and evening writing lesson notes on idiomatic expressions. She really couldn’t help herself once she got into the topic; it was her pet project.

And the subject of one of her dissertations. Yes, she had multiple. 

She’d worked her ass off for years to get through college, then through graduate and doctoral work while teaching at universities to offset costs, then earned a full-time teaching position at one of the top-ranked universities in the world. She got to teach linguistics, her lifetime love, and give guest lectures at other universities and at conferences, teaching people all over the world about the complexities and interrelatedness of language. Hell, she spoke ten; she’d be qualified to speak on linguistic relationships by virtue of that alone.

Gods, she was the chief linguist behind the most successful translation software ever produced. Even if the bitch who owned the rights to said software had literally threatened to sue over ownership rights if any of the people who’d poured their figurative blood and sweat and literal tears into building the program tried to claim a small piece of the credit each of them so richly deserved. 

That software and her role in its creation--even though Maeve Ond had claimed the public credit, the creative team spoke at interviews and made news features for their work in Cadre Tech’s massive success--had solidified her credentials as a professor of linguistics, had boosted her into her lecturer spot.

Last year, her university granted her tenure. 

She should have been overjoyed, and she was, but not as much as earning tenure deserved. 

Because there was nobody to share her joy.

Three years ago, in the wake of CT’s overnight jump to worldwide fame, Aelin fled a love she did not and never would deserve. 

She told herself she would never look back. But she did. Almost every day, she looked back at the life she’d shared with Rowan and tried to convince herself that she did the right thing.

Try as she might, she could never silence the whisper that echoed always in her mind. 

“You broke both of your hearts” 

Someday, she told herself, someday she would be back in Doranelle. Someday, she would have a chance to apologize. Someday, maybe she could fix the Rowan-shaped chasm that gaped wide in her heart. 

Yet here she was, sitting in a very nicely appointed hotel room in the university district of Doranelle, typing furiously away as if burying herself in notes and prep for tomorrow’s lecture could make the urge to contact Rowan disappear.

~

Three years earlier. Doranelle.

“Knock, knock.”

Rowan’s head jerked up from where it had most definitely not been slumped on his desk. “Wha--Oh. Hi, Aelin.”

“You’re falling asleep, buzzard, let’s go home.” He heard laughter in her soft voice. 

“As if you won’t just get home and start cross-checking every single one of the phrases on your ‘potential problem’ list.”

She chuckled, walking over to him. “Fine. We’re both perfectionist work whores. Doesn’t mean we don’t need sleep.”

“I know you too well to believe you’re actually going to sleep.”

“All right, you win. Come home now, I’ll make some food, and you can put me to bed.” She winked saucily at him, leaving very little doubt what putting her to bed would entail, and he was up out of his chair in seconds. 

“Hand over your computer, Fireheart,” he grinned as they walked into the small house they shared on the outskirts of the city. 

“What?”

“Your computer, love. I’m leaving both of our work bags on the shelf by the front door so we can actually catch some rest tonight.” He pressed a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “Uh-uh, Ae, we have interviews tomorrow and I won’t let the genius behind this program’s flawless word-to-word be anything but well-rested.”

She sighed, but he saw the love in her eyes. “Here, then, my dear brilliant software engineer. Leave your notebook, too, because I know if it’s anywhere near you, you’ll be up at three in the morning scribbling blocks of gibberish and picking apart your faultless code until you go insane.”

Both of their work satisfactorily put aside, Aelin made good on her promise to cook Rowan dinner. 

And then he made very good on his promise to put her to bed. 

The next morning, they were both awake with the sunrise, content to lay curled in each other’s arms as the morning light spread across their room.

Rowan drifted back into sleep, waking for good when he caught a whiff of coffee from the kitchen’s direction. 

“Morning, you sleepy buzzard,” Aelin grinned, sipping from her mug.

Rowan dropped a kiss on her head as he reached for his mug. He took a long drink, sighing as the milky, sweetened caffeine hit his mouth. 

“I will never understand how you drink your coffee black, Fireheart.”

“Not all of us need to sweeten the hell out of coffee to drink it, Ro. Maybe if you can’t handle the real thing, you should go back to your pretty little cups of crappy cafe tea.”

“Mention my pretty little teacups again, Ae…”

She giggled. “You be quiet and drink your coffee-flavored milk, my love.  We both know you’re impossibly grumpy until you have caffeine in your veins.”

He grumbled something unintelligible as he drank his coffee.

They were nearly late to work that morning, even having planned an extra half hour to arrive, thanks to Aelin wearing what Rowan dubbed her “sexy professor suit.” She fixed the pins in her French twist in the car, making herself once again a portrait of professionalism, and slipped Rowan’s hand from her leg.

“Two hands on the wheel, Whitethorn.”

He pouted. “But I’m a safe driver and I want to hold your hand.”

“My hands are over here, love, not down by my skirt.”

When he pulled into his spot, Aelin closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. 

“You good, Fireheart?”

Gods, she loved hearing him call her that. “Yeah. I just…needed a moment to settle myself. To tell myself the cameras aren’t here to tear apart what I say.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around hers. “Dr. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the bland reporters are here to stand in awe of your expertise. Not a single word you say will come across as anything but brilliant and beautifully said.”

She squeezed his hands, her usual confidence returning. “I love you, buzzard.”

“I love you too, Fireheart. Let’s go talk about our amazing achievement.”

The day sped by in a blur of reporters, interviewers, teleprompters, practiced speeches, lights, cameras, and crew. When the last bleached-blonde anchor of the last interview of the day cut her crew’s cameras, Aelin flopped against her second-in-linguistic-command, Dr. Nehemia Ytger, the expert on ethnic African languages. 

“If I never see a news crew again, it’ll be too soon,” she sighed. “I’m beat.”

Nehemia snickered. “But we’re done talking about how proud we are that Maeve and her marvelous company have done such a grand service to the world.”

Aelin snorted softly. “Right. And now we servicepeople want to go home and take off our heels.”

“Amen to that.”

As the team filed out of the studio, Rowan made his way over to Aelin. “Holding up?”

“Not anymore,” she said, leaning casually into his side. “My heels are killing me, there’s a hairpin stabbing into my scalp, and I really, really need to pee.”

Rowan laughed, deep and husky. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“I’m stopping in the bathroom first.”

Just before she left the ladies’ room, Aelin heard voices in the break area. Familiar voices--Rowan’s, Maeve’s, and the snippy, borderline whiny tones of Remelle Frelau, who worked in the marketing department and had a hell of a boner for Rowan. 

“--looking at revenue over--” Maeve’s voice cut out, but from the gasps of the other two, the revenue was through the roof. 

“And it’s all thanks to this genius here,” drawled Remelle, who if Aelin had her guess was probably clinging onto Rowan like a platinum-blonde leech. 

“Ms. Frelau, this was the product of a team. No single person could possibly have made it happen alone.”

“Oh, call me Remelle, or even better Remy. And you’re the team leader, so you practically did create it by yourself.”

Aelin snickered to herself. Vapid bitch had no idea what she was saying. 

“That’s not how teams work, Ms. Frelau. We wouldn’t be here without Dr. Galathynius and Dr. Ytger’s language expertise, not to mention the creative genius of the engineers, graphic designers, linguists, and programmers.”

“Ms. Frelau, though her judgment is clearly biased, has a point, Mr. Whitethorn,” Mave said. “You demonstrated remarkable collaborative leadership qualities throughout this project, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” Maeve’s heels clicked away. Rowan’s voice followed her.

“Thank you, Ms. Ond, but I have to credit Dr. Galathynius--”

“Will you stop kissing that woman’s ass?” snorted Remelle. “Gods, she’s not worth your time or your praise; all she does is translate words into different languages and you idiots drool over that like it means anything.”

Aelin jerked like she’d been slapped. She knew Remelle was a self-centered, shallow, spiteful bitch, but she hadn’t known she would do this.

“--did more for this project than you and your useless whiteboard of catchphrases,” growled Rowan. 

“I don’t care what she ‘did for the project,’ Rowan, she’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Thank you for caring about my welfare, Frelau, now please kindly fuck off.”

Aelin chose that moment to saunter out of the bathroom and head straight for Rowan, her face showing no hint of having heard that conversation. She did note with satisfaction Remelle’s vain attempt to march out of the room with some semblance of dignity. Too bad her heel caught on the seam of the hallway carpet and the break room’s tile flooring and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Aelin.”

“Just thinking. Processing, really. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Rowan nodded. “I bet.”

“And hearing fucking Remelle rip into me for being useless…didn’t make it better.”

“Shit, you heard that?”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Her voice was hollow. 

Rowan pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. Reaching across the console, he cupped Aelin’s face in his hands. “Aelin. You are brilliant. You are terrifyingly smart. You are a force of nature. Nothing, nothing you will ever do is useless. Don’t let that jealous bitch make you think you are less than the perfect woman.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “She…she told me before that last interview that I could never be enough for you. Because you--because of Lyria.”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. “Ae, can we talk about this inside?”

That night, he told her about his former fiancé, Lyria. He told her about their whirlwind romance, their youthful dreams. He told her about the horrific crash that stole away Lyria’s life. A drunk trucker, a narrow pass in the mountains. He showed her the box in which he kept all the memories of that life. He cried. Aelin cried. He curled against her, let her comfort him.

“Sometimes, I wish she was still here. She’d understand everything. She always did.”

Aelin had no response. She let Rowan fall asleep, his weight shifting off her and into his bed, and looked through the box. Everything she saw served as another reminder that this was the first woman he loved, the woman who understood everything. 

She was worthy of him. 

But was Aelin?

The more she looked at Rowan and Lyria’s happiness, the more the answer solidified. 

No.

When Rowan woke up the next morning, Lyria’s box sat on Aelin’s side of the bed, a side that had not held Aelin.

He glanced out the window.

Her car was gone.

He got up and frantically paced through the house.

Everything she’d brought into his home was gone.

As was she.

~

Present day. 

Rowan opened his front door mechanically, pulled off his shoes, dropped his work backpack on its shelf, and was halfway to his bedroom before he realized he’d just opened his front door. His front door that was always locked. 

Someone was in his house.

Someone who either had a duplicate key or insanely good lockpicking skills.

Exactly one person owned a duplicate key to his house.

Aelin.

That’s impossible, she lives in Orynth, she can’t be here, he told the traitorous part of his brain that leapt with joy at seeing Aelin’s face again.

He turned around and made his way through the kitchen--nobody there--to the living room. He flicked on a lamp, casting a soft light around the room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Aelin Galathynius sat on his couch. 

For a moment, he just gawked at her. She looked so…different. Older. Gone was the infectious smile that had captured his heart. Dark shadows smeared under her eyes, testament both to the long hours she devoted to her work and to recent sleepless nights. She was twisting a ring on her right hand, a familiar sign of her nerves. From his angle, Rowan could see a hint of dark script on her wrist. A tattoo. The Aelin he knew didn’t have tattoos.

“I’m not a ghost.” Her voice, weary and hollow, broke the tense silence.

Rowan crossed the room, propped an arm on the fireplace. “Why?”

“Why am I here? Why did I leave? Why did I cut you out of my life?”

“Everything.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, but his eyes burned into hers.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here to apologize, first of all. I’m here to face what I ruined and to try and start mending it. I’m here to come to terms with everything I broke when I left three years ago.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’m sorry I left like that. I was…I was scared.”

“You can’t just run away from your fears, Aelin!” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “You can’t just abandon someone when you have a bad day!”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have left! I know I can’t run from my fears; I’ve spent the last three years trying and fucking failing to do that! But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Saying something about it would have been a good first step.” 

“I’m bad at emotions, Rowan. I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse.”

Aelin flicked a tear from her face. “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I should never have left. I let some stupid comment root into my head and make me doubt myself. I made myself believe I would never be good enough for you. I left you. I loved you, and I still left you. I still love you, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I can never make up for that. I…I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve regretted that horrible decision all these years. I want you to be happy, Rowan, I--”

“How am I supposed to be happy without a source?” He’d dropped onto the couch, close enough to touch her but still keeping his distance.

“What?”

“You didn’t just take yourself away, Aelin. You were my happiness. I’ve spent three fucking years trying to make myself believe I’m better without you in my life, and I can’t.”

She was unabashedly crying by that point. “What do you want me to do? How can I make up for abandoning you?”

“Stay.”

Her gaze locked onto his, both of their eyes pooling with tears.

“Stay with me, Fireheart.”

“But--”

“I never stopped loving you either.”

A choked sob ripped out of Aelin. Rowan couldn’t hold himself in check any longer; he reached out and tugged her gently into his arms. To his shock, she didn’t resist, burying her face into his chest as sobs shook her shoulders. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up.

“Will you stay, Aelin?”

“Yes. Even though I will never deserve your forgiveness, yes.”

~

Translations:

* = “that pinched old whore who couldn’t convince a dick to come within ten metres of her if she dressed up provocatively” (Italian)

** = loosely translated as “Fucking hell, I can’t get drunk off this garbage.” (in order, Russian (badly phonetically spelled out because Rowan POV), Spanish, German, Spanish again, French) (the Russian doesn’t directly translate, so it could mean several different variations of expletive)

~

Might there be a second part? Perhaps......

[caffeinated-cryptid]

you got an ego so big (it'll eat you alive).

roman-centric hurt/comfort (w/ remus, patton and virgil). 

11.7k words | AO3 link | warnings: self-hatred, semi-intentional self-destruction, various injuries, arguing, remus-typical jokes and topics.

“At the best of times, Roman’s job was a tightrope act between maintaining a healthy amount of self-confidence and the ability to adapt and take criticism. Throughout his life he walks this line many times, always with the expectation that if he were to fall one way or the other, no one would be there to catch him.

But sometimes when you’re up miles high, it can become difficult to see the safety net on the ground below you.

(aka an expansion on the premise that a bruised ego causes literal injuries and the issues this could cause when you're an insecure prince with a need to please and the weight of the world on your shoulders).”

------------------

To be overly aware of your own self is often associated with negative traits, such as narcissism, self-consciousness or a sensitivity to mistakes. Although to some with a proclivity towards the spotlight, it can become an inadvertent consequence of over-analyzing yourself in order to achieve those flawless performances. Naturally, gaining any sort of notoriety and attempting to retain that positive image means becoming intimately aware of your faults and staying open to change, taking criticism to heart all the while keeping relatably humble. On the other hand, it may also mean letting that same criticism become your one sole focus, tearing you down instead of becoming a rung in the ladder that's supposed to take you to higher places.

Roman often found that navigating these gray areas was a momentous task. To be proud of his work, but not be too unbearably egotistical to the point that it blinded him. To accept criticism but not allow the pursuit of perfection to destroy him.

His role was truly a balance; a thin tightrope he constantly had to traverse.

And on occasion, he would end up slipping.

------------------

I - bonds that tie us.

Roman first learned of his job as the ego when Thomas was young. With Remus at the helm of most of the subconscious and instinctual stuff as his id, perhaps he should've assumed that he would have a similar mirrored purpose beyond simply confidence, however it hadn't ever really come into play until one afternoon when the two of them were busy playing in The Imagination.

They had just concluded a close duel against each other and were putting their weapons away (cardboard ones, since Feelings didn't want them running around with real weapons once he found out they were using them to fight, and because Fear and Lies often fretted about them doing something stupid and getting hurt). Usually neither of them held the lead for long during their matches since they were so well-matched, but today Remus had won easily, which Roman chalked up to him feeling off ("Yeah right. Don't be such a sore loser." "It's true!"). Either way, Remus would be bragging about the victory until the next time they got the opportunity to duel, and that meant he was already rubbing it in as they prepared to leave.

On their way to the exit, Remus had taken the lead at some point and was throwing out ideas about they should do later when Roman unexpectedly paused and doubled over, clutching his head. Remus didn't notice that he'd stopped until he heard a groan and turned around.

"What's wrong? Didn't hit you too hard, did I?" He asked with a grin as if he assumed that Roman was still playing- perhaps trying to make up an excuse for his terrible loss.

"I- Dunno. My head hurts…" Roman cringed, eyes screwed shut.

Remus' smile faltered when he realized it might not be a joke and he walked back, peeling Romans hands away from his forehead. Underneath was a large red patch of irritated skin which looked set to bruise. His frown deepened because he definitely didn't cause that, nor did he witness any incidents during the day which would be the cause. "How'd that happen?

"Dunno!" He repeated, eyes going blank for a moment while he caught up with what was happening outside. The two of them were usually much too distracted when they were in The Imagination to pay attention to everything that transpired in the real world, especially on weekdays like this when Thomas would be in school and Creativity wasn't exactly needed during most classes. "...Thomas was told off for slacking in front of the entire class and he got some bad grades on his report card… He's feeling embarrassed, I think.

Remus was confused by how this was relevant until he pieced together that the two events were linked to what was happening to his brother. His eyes widened in realization before they settled into determination. "Then I'll fight him until he stops feeling bad."

That startled a laugh out of Roman, until his head started pounding and he cut himself off with a grimace. "...’Can't do that."

He laughed too, in hopes that it would lift Roman's spirits again. "Can too! I'll figure it out, then he'll be too busy worrying about his broken bones to care about what some dumb teacher said. Maybe then he'll get to skip school for a while and do something funner like-"

"Remus." Roman hissed over him, overcome with a sudden dizzy spell. His hand found Remus’ shoulder for purchase, which stopped his twin in his rant.

Remus stared at him in alarm. This seemed serious, and he didn't do too well with handling serious things. "Do... Do you want me to get Feelings? Or Learning? Or Lies?"

"No. None of them. I just wanna go home." He whined, leaning more and more against Remus for support.

' Home' in their case was what they called their shared room. It was where they always returned to at the end of a long day, and no matter what had happened, they could always feel their troubles wash away as they sat in their own little world once more. Roman longed for that feeling, to escape the too-bright sun of The Imagination which now felt like it was blinding him and just lay down for a while.

Remus nodded hesitantly, the plans he had spun of pulling a prank on Fear and Lies forgotten. Normally the two Creativities preferred to find the door of The Imagination manually (they claimed it made the experience more immersive when they were out on an adventure), but instead he reached towards the exit and the world twisted around them, ejecting them out together. They came out the other side back in their room, next to their bunk bed. Instead of climbing up to his bed on the top, Roman just about threw himself onto Remus' sheets. Somehow he managed to ignore the weird smell of the fabric that he always complained about, which spoke greatly about his current well-being.

Remus hovered behind him, unsure of what to do, when Roman let out another pained noise and curled up tighter. "What now?!"

"Thomas...parents.

Since that didn't really explain anything, Remus decided to check up on what was happening outside himself. Thomas' parents had asked to see his report card and they were giving him the 'not mad but disappointed talk', while Thomas was shrunk into himself in shame. Yikes, Learning mustn't be feeling too hot about this either. But right now his focus was on his brother, who the sight of in such a sorry state filled him with rage.

"Now I want to fight them too." Remus muttered darkly. "Take the knife from the kitchen that dad uses to cut up turkeys and make them stop talking forever. Then we won't have to deal with this again and you won't-"

Oh right, Roman was still injured. Focus, Remus. Concern. Right, he was concerned for his brother, who was hurting like he had never seen, even after their fights. What could he do about this? He was always so much better at destroying things than fixing them, so having to deal with a situation like this without any sort of guidance made him nervous.

"You can't hurt them." Roman protested weakly.

"Maybe if I want to enough I could!"

Remus walked around the bunk bed and settled down on the side Roman was facing towards. From this angle he could see new bruises spattered along his brother's arms. In a grotesque way, the different shades came together like a watercolour painting. Except instead of a canvas, they were on a body- Remus shook his head. Focus! He could draw sickly yellow and purple-inspired pictures later, when Roman would be in the mood to be more good-humored about it.

"You shouldn't, then. It's bad."

"...Alright then. What should I do Ro-bro?"

Roman cracked open one eye and looked at him. "Stay? Until Thomas feels better?"

Considering he was just grounded for the weekend, Remus wasn't sure how long it would take for this hit to Thomas' self esteem to blow over, but despite knowing this he nodded anyway.

"Okay."

He laid down next to Roman, not commenting when he hid his face against the covers and started sniffling, or when he eventually fell asleep, curled against his side like how they would sleep when they were newly-split. When Learning knocked in their door to tell them that dinner was ready, he made a weak excuse that they were busy and would eat later.

Without even asking he knew Roman would want this to be kept between them, despite how the others would undoubtedly fuss and nurse him back to health. And perhaps that was the reason why. His brother always wanted to appear infallible to the others and did so replicating the heroes from the stories they read, which often meant refusing to admit when he needed help and trying to do everything himself. If you asked Remus, he was trying way too hard to be like the Creativity that came before them, which was silly because they were different now and as they were, they needed each other.

Remus closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep too. This seemed like a big deal, so Roman's pride would have to pass eventually for him to seek help. Right?

------------------

II - even without dying you're dead to me.

In retrospect, Remus had underestimated Roman’s ability to keep a secret (maybe because he was so quick these days to run over to Feelings, now Morality, whenever Remus did something to upset him. Tattle-tale).

Now that they were older and their roles were more defined, their once shared-room had separated into two to adjust to this change. Even though it had been long enough that he should be used to the feeling of being alone, there were still times where Remus had to try to not let it bother him when he looked up at night, expecting to see the familiar underside of a top bunk and instead only finding the ceiling he had painted an underwater-themed mural on.

On nights like this, far too sentimental to enter a peaceful rest, they would go sleep in each other's rooms, saying nothing as they tried to pretend they were as close as they once were. Remus groaned into his pillow, fighting that annoying urge to seek comfort. He was a teenager now, he didn't want to be so attached at the hip to a side who had started looking at him with disgust and fear instead of the fondness they used to share. Sometimes he couldn't help it though, clinging to the days when everything felt simple and the biggest thing they had to worry about was finding time to create the things they enjoyed. At the very least he was glad that Roman didn't mock him for his occasional bouts of uncharacteristic sentiment; that would solidify for him that there were no remnants of the relationship they once had left.

With that depressing thought, he rolled out of bed. He couldn't sleep tonight so he was going to make that Roman's problem; that always cheered him up. Perhaps if he hadn't made such a disturbed face when Remus had talked about the brazen bull he had made earlier that day, he would feel a bit more sympathy for waking his brother up in the middle of the night. Buuut he didn't and he was feeling petty, so without a second thought he sunk out and into Romans room.

"WAKEY WAKEY~!" Remus clashed two cymbals together like one of those nightmare-inducing wind-up monkeys, only to belatedly realize the bed he was facing was empty.

He blinked, both in confusion and to adjust his eyes to the unexpected light of the room. Both of them may be night owls, but Roman would usually be asleep by 2am at least, and it was way past that hour. Looking around the room, his eyes latched onto the vanity where his brother was sitting, looking incredibly startled from the deafening crash of metal against metal.

"Get out!" He yelled once his shock faded into indignation, glaring at Remus.

Remus didn’t respond, staring at the medical supplies spread across the surface. Roman was in the middle of wrapping a compression bandage around his thigh, which he abandoned as soon as Remus had entered.

"Did you get something stuck in your ear again? I'm not in the mood to deal with you tonight, Remus. Leave ."

"What happened?" He blurted out before he could even think about the question.

"Doesn't matter. In case you've forgotten, the door's right there. Feel free to use it at any point."

Instead of complying (because when had Remus ever done that for anyone? No no, it was always more exciting to do the opposite of what people ask and see what happens), he crossed the room, ignoring how Roman increasingly looked like he wanted to punch him the longer he lingered.

"Bitch, it obviously does matter, otherwise you wouldn't be looking like you got trampled by a cracked-out horse."

"Lovely imagery." Roman gritted out.

"Lovely avoidance." Remus retorted sarcastically. "Aren't you best friends with Morality and Logic now? Why aren't they here sucking your d-"

"If you don't go back to your own room I'll run you through with my sword." Roman warned with an air of finality.

Remus snorted.

It was hard to be intimidated by the same side who had once cried when he had accidentally smashed an imaginary caterpillar cocoon with his morning star. In his defense he had forgotten to make the handle weighted when he first made it, so he was still getting used to the uneven distribution of the weapon...not like that stopped Roman from getting upset with him. Supposedly he had spent the last week trying to raise butterflies and wanted to show them off to Logic after they had learned about chrysalis in class, but Remus found that somewhat laughable considering he could just create a fully-formed butterfly if he wanted to. So he did laugh, calling him dumb for getting upset over nothing, and through tears Roman pushed him to the ground and told him he hated him for the first time. (After that, he may have spent the next week killing any butterflies that crossed his path, but that was neither here nor there. The point of this tangent provided a lá Remus Sander's brain was was that Roman could be a big baby and therefore he couldn't take anything he said too seriously.)

"Sounds like a good time! Save that idea for later though, because if you don't tell me I'll summon them over here to ask them myself."

"Don't. They don't know about this, alright? For once in your life can you just let it go?"

Huh. Remus tilted his head. It had been years since they first found out about the fun little quirk Roman had, and he just...never told? He figured at the very least it would be a good way to milk even more attention from the others; something Creativity had been seeking more often after Fear turned into Anxiety during middle school and gained a much larger role in Thomas' life. "Why?"

Roman huffed in frustration. "They don't need to. I can handle it myself."

"...Wow! Careful not to summon Lies, because you're full of shit and you know it." Remus fired back. He didn't even know why he was getting so mad. Minutes ago he was cursing his brother's guts for how their relationship had soured, and now all of a sudden it was if all of that dislike had faded into the background for something else. Concern? He hadn't felt concern for anything in years. Roman always made it seem like he could take care of himself, so that's what Remus had believed at first too, though perhaps stumbling across this situation was evidence of the opposite. Reasonable self-care didn't exactly look like 'patching yourself up at 4 in the morning'. At least, that sounded like something Lies would say which probably meant it was accurate.

"Ugh- Shut up. I've been doing just fine so far, without you or them, so you can take your fake pity and shove it up your you-know-where."

Remus didn't rise to the opportunity to poke fun at that statement, his mind going blank (and what a strange and unusual feeling that was). The idea that anything could have been hidden from him seemed unthinkable given how they used to tell each other everything. He hadn't even considered that that habit had become one-sided, given how it had never stopped being true for him. "...Roman, what does that mean? Has this been happening a lot?"

"..."

"Why did you never tell me?! This isn't something you can just keep a secret! If you won't say anything I will-

Remus' mouth snapped shut as Roman ejected him from his room. He landed back on his own bed and when he scrambled onto his feet to tried to rise up again, he found that his efforts were blocked. Roman had kicked him out and locked the door behind him. He never did that, no matter how much they fought or annoyed each other. It was the one thing they did that showed they still cared.

Remus trembled with adrenaline and shock. Taking his pillow, he summoned a knife and stabbed it and stabbed it and stabbed it until all of his pent up feelings were gone and there all that was left was the fluff covering his floor.

------------------

III - interlude.

As it turns out, he'd never get the opportunity to tell, because shortly after that, the newly appointed 'dark sides' were pushed away into their own corner of the mindscape after an explosive argument between the sides (during which Remus tried to ignore how closely Roman stood at Morality's side, sword brandished towards him. He didn't want to think his twin had a hand in their separation, even though it made so much sense).

When he argued about going back with Lies, now Deceit after being appointed the new leader of the unwanted and unloved, he was told through clenched teeth and pained eyes that he shouldn't. Not until Thomas was ready for him. For all of them.

------------------

IV - to the death of me, i'm just fulfillin' my destiny.

After that, Roman adjusted, and did so alone. Teenage years came with many challenges, ones he didn’t always escape unscathed. Despite the occasional rejection here, an unfortunate setback there, he felt as if he had grown a thicker skin for the trials they faced. Into adulthood he wore his ego like a suit of armor; Thomas was outgoing and likable, so of course it became easier to brush aside random negative experiences as minor blips, things that didn’t represent their worth.

This was challenged somewhat as he began pursuing creative outlets more seriously. This meant more work for Roman in general (Woo! Suck it Logan), but it also came with more opportunities to feel ashamed of a messed-up performance, embarrassed by a note sung wrong, hurt by an ill-intentioned piece of feedback.

So he tried to compensate at times. Sue him. Between the nights he spent nursing his wounds and wondering how to do better next time, perhaps he deserved to be a little self-congratulatory about the shining achievements he won for them. There was a certain safety in placing himself up on that pedestal, so high above that it felt like nobody could ever reach him; that he was above it all. But the reality was that this pedestal, gold-plated as it may be, was founded on an interior of paper mache, one wrong move from away from collapsing and sending him tumbling back down to earth.

It was a good thing that pretending came naturally to Roman. So natural that the fear of falling sometimes didn’t register with him at all.

------------------

V - the calamitous corollary of being considered.

Except, it may have been too much to expect nobody to ever realize there was something up with him. The fact that the sides had to work closely together alone meant that the excuse of being busy after every troubling experience could only work for so long.

The first one to find out was Patton, because of course it was. Sometimes Roman felt as if Patton wasn’t given enough credit for his intelligence. Even though he could be a tad slow on the uptake on other things, his ability to detect the slightest change in mood and discern how people were feeling could be uncanny at times. Emotions just happened to be Patton's strong suit, and while that was very much appreciated when it came to sharing excitement or talking through a heated problem, it was not so grand when you were trying to get away with hiding something.

The first time he let something slip was a few days after Thomas had been flat-out rejected when asking someone out on a date. It wasn't that big of a blow, considering they had barely known the guy for more than a month, but Roman had been insistent that they throw caution into the wind and give it a shot, sure that he had been receiving signals that proved that this guy felt a similar interest. Turns out, he didn't, and was very-much straight. At least the rejection had been somewhat carried out gently and he didn't seem too put-off about staying friends afterwards. Nonetheless the wound was still fresh, and Thomas kept internally cringing whenever he thought about it, which didn't help matters. Whatever. Roman dealt with the bruises that arose from the incident and dabbed a little foundation on the ones he couldn't hide with clothing. They'd get over it in a matter of weeks.

It was after the awkward feelings had finally begun to settle when it happened. Roman and Patton had been in the kitchen preparing dinner when Thomas received a message on his phone, and when he went to check it, he face-planted on the couch in mortification.

'Hey man, I just remembered that my cousin is coming to town this weekend. He's gay too so I thought you two could go on a blind date if you're still looking. :) Lmk your thoughts.'

Patton frowned upon sensing the sudden wave of embarrassment, pausing to check what had happened. "Well...That's thoughtful of him!" He chuckled, tone trying and failing to be positive. Roman couldn't share the same sentiment.

"Thoughtless is more like it! He wants to set us up with the first gay person he knows? Who's not even in the city?  Does he think Thomas has no standards at all?! How dare-" Roman's indignant protests cut off as he felt the skin around his collar grow tender and swell slightly. He let out a slight whimper when he pressed his fingers into the bruise to double check its location. Why now and in such a visible place?! He's going to get Thomas to drop that guy if it's the last thing he does-

"Ro! Are you okay?"

Right. Patton was still here. Don't panic.

"Y-yeah! I just remembered an injury I sustained earlier. But not to worry, 'tis but a flesh wound!" He joked.

"A flesh wound?!" Patton cried, reference flying over his head. "Let me see."

Gently, Patton moved his head upwards to get a better look at the bruise. It mustn't look good, because Patton, squeamish as he was, grimaced on sight.

"How on earth did that happen? I don't remember that being there just now."

"Uh." Come on Creative skills, work your magic. "A stray whomping willow in The Imagination? You know how they can be. I suppose it merely took a while to develop, bruises can be funny like that."

Luckily it seemed to work, because Patton sighed. "I thought you got rid of them all after that time one almost threw Logan into a lake. Did Remus make more?"

Heh. Good times. That was a slight lie on his behalf when he had told the others he had gotten rid of the trees; he had kept a few of them around because they were once a gift from Remus to quote 'spice up his boring forests'. Not for any sentimental reasons, of course, but because he thought it was funny and it kept him on his toes. "I guess."

Patton made a small 'tsk' noise, mouth still drawn in a frown but he didn't comment further. "Come on, I'll help you treat that. Does it hurt?"

"Of course not." He smiled. "Do you really think I could be bested by a mere tree?"

"Never! I do wish you were more careful when you go on your little adventures, though. It makes me awfully sad to think about you in 'pine'."

Roman knew it had been a flimsy excuse and even though Patton seemed to accept it, there was a hesitation in his eye which spoke of hidden disbelief. After some first aid and many more tree-related puns later, they went back to cooking, finishing up 30 minutes later. When Logan came down to dinner, immediately questioning the bandages around Roman's neck, he repeated the fake story, distracting him with a request not to go into The Imagination with the whomping willow around and packaging the thinly-veiled jab at the way Logan had once freaked out when he was swung around by the semi-sentient tree as a warning. Logan's concern quickly faded and he shot back a sharp retaliation that Roman didn't care to remember. He just laughed, feeling as light as a kite with the crisis averted.

The next time didn't go over as gracefully.

Thomas had found a different partner eventually, one that wasn't some friend's cousin. They dated for months, and just when he had been thinking about inviting his boyfriend to move in so he could be closer to his workplace, he'd been broken up with. On Valentines Day of all days. There was no better way of putting it; they had planned to go out to dinner, managing to book a table at a fairly classy restaurant, exchanged gifts, and near the end of the night his boyfriend had leaned across the table with a sad smile, thanking him for the evening before admitting he didn't see them working out anymore. He said it quietly, as to not cause a scene among the other diners, but that didn't stop Thomas from immediately bursting into tears. The scene had caused his (now ex) boyfriend to leave early after paying his half of the bill. At least the waitress had taken pity on him and brought over more complimentary bread rolls (which he took because he was not a complete fool, heartbroken as he may be), though even that didn't stop the confusion and embarrassment of it all.

As expected, the whole incident caused nothing but chaos; the right-brain sides were devastated, Anxiety was in a state of panic, and Logic had been metaphorically thrown out the window. As Thomas made his way home, they were at a complete loss for what to do. They had started the day, hoping to take a step forward in their relationship, and ended up with nothing at all. What worse is that they didn't even have a clear idea why (admittedly, that could have been due to, as mentioned before, the inconsolable crying).

It seemed like the most sensible thing to do at the moment was to throw the Valentines gifts away and gorge on the ice-cream that had been sitting in the back of the freezer for who-knows how long while watching a comfort show and trying to forget the whole evening. So that's what they did. As Logan tried to sort through what happened and rationalize what to do next, Patton wallowed in his misery as he dealt with the giant mix of feelings Thomas was going through.

After a few hours working through the brunt of it, enough to where his mind began wandering elsewhere, Patton realized with a start that he hadn't seen Roman since the start of the evening. He must have been so devastated too! Patton recalled how excited he was about the day ahead of them, how he spun fantasies of Thomas' boyfriend accepting the proposal to move in and then the future proposals that could come after that-

Patton mournfully sobbed. He needed to stop thinking about this, or else Thomas could start spiraling again. The best thing to do right now was distract himself, and to do that he should go check on Roman. Perhaps they could talk and have a mutual catharsis over the whole thing. Or better yet, he could put his energy towards someone else and he won't have to fall back into the thoughts that had been clouding his mind ever since they had left that stupid restaurant.

Splashing some water on his face to clear up some of the blotchy-ness, he left his room and crossed the hallway towards Roman's. He couldn't hear any noise coming from inside, so he tentatively knocked. "Kiddo?"

For a few moments there was silence, and Patton almost turned away, assuming that Roman might be blowing off some steam in The Imagination, until a voice cleared inside the room and answered. "Pat? What do you want?"

Patton was taken aback for a second, not expecting such a straight-forward answer. It almost sounded like Roman wasn't upset at all, but Patton sincerely doubted that to be true. His tone was almost too normal, and for anybody else he wouldn't have questioned it, but the lack of dramatics or flowery language was always a clear red flag for the Creative side. "I wanted to check on you since um- You-Know-Who took 'dine and dash' a tad too seriously." He chuckled humorlessly. "...Can I come in?"

There was some shuffling and muffled curses. "Why? I'm fine. Worry about yourself."

"'Why?'" He repeated, eyeing the door warily. "I'm concerned! I haven't seen you in hours and I- I know you must be upset about this too. Can we please talk?"

"I'm not exactly my most princely presentable self right now. Anyway, it's late. Surely this can wait until tomorrow?"

Patton looked down at himself. Instead of his usual garb, he had thrown on some more comfortable clothes hours ago, and they were currently crumpled from laying in bed, sobbing his eyes out. "I'm hardly my best-self either right now, Kiddo-" Before he could go on a spiel about how it was best to not bottle up emotions when they're fresh (and ignoring the hypocrisy of that sentiment), he heard a thump on the other side of the door followed by a quiet hiss of pain. Patton began to panic, and his hand flew to the handle. "I'm coming in!"

Before the other side could even consider protesting, Patton flung the fortunately unlocked door open and stepped into the room, gasping at the sight he was met with. Roman was on the floor, wincing as he clutched his leg. Although he was still dressed in his usual outfit, there were enough injuries on his visible skin that Patton could only wonder how far they went. He covered his mouth and stared in horror as Roman turned to look at him nervously.

"What- How did this happen?!"

Roman licked his dry lips, eyes darting away as he searched for an excuse. "I- The Imagination- This is from earlier-"

"You told me this morning you were going to spend the day helping Thomas write a love letter." Patton said, voice strained with panic and disbelief. "Tell me the truth, please."

Shoot, he had announced his plans earlier that day, hadn't he? He internally cursed his inability to keep his mouth shut, before lowering his head in defeat. "Can you keep a secret, Pat?"

Said side shifted uncomfortably, but his tone was resolute when he nodded. "If it means you'll let me help with whatever this is."

"Okay..." Roman inhaled. "Okay."

And then he explained. Or rather, gave a shortened version of the truth which was less likely to give Patton a complete heart-attack: that bruised egos were something he experienced, but it was never this bad (true) or all that common (also true), and that they weren't something to worry about because he could usually take care of them himself (technically true). By the time he had finished, Patton still looked concerned, but had become less frantic with the information.

"You'll let me help in the future if you need it, right?" He asked, so close to shedding tears that Roman had trouble keeping eye-contact without becoming choked up with guilt.

"If I need it." He agreed.

Finally, Patton smiled, and went to fetch the first-aid kit hastily. As he helped patch him up for the second time that year, the look in Patton's eyes was so pained that Roman vowed to let him see this side of him as little as possible.

For a while, he kept true to this promise to himself, and on the occasions when Patton would drop by to check if everything was alright, if Roman had encountered any bruised egos since, he relished in the relief on his face whenever he would lie and said he hadn't. Distantly he wondered sometimes if this was how heroes were supposed to feel; protecting people by letting them live in blissful ignorance and bearing the burden of the ugly truth alone.

(It was thoughts like that that kept him going.)

------------------

VI - high highs and low lows.

And then came the videos. Youtube had been an excellent ego-boost for Roman. Similar to how life-changing Vine was, the instant gratification of likes and feedback and people liking what they made was enough to send him over the moon, and oftentimes it was able to ward away the downsides that came with it too; the stress of staying relevant, the occasional hate comment, the portion of dislikes that didn't explain what about the video was dislike-worthy-

Overall it seemed like a great idea, especially when the sides became involved. It gave them all the chance to gain their own spotlights, which most of them appreciated. Sometimes this wasn't always so good though. With the videos came more introspection than usual, which meant deeply examining each problem to try to find some kind of moral. And right now, Roman didn't want to do any sort of thinking exercise about how badly he messed up. At this point in their career, a simple audition should have been a cake walk, instead it was an ache walk...Okay, admittedly he wasn't on his best game right now. The point was, he had potentially thrown the whole audition by forgetting something so simple as the lyrics, and now the casting director would definitely only remember Thomas by the way he froze under pressure, which wasn't exactly an appealing trait in somebody looking to go up on stage where the pressure was set to 100.

After everything was said and done, Roman had no choice but to approach Patton for help. In his current state, he was much too dizzy on his feet to even contemplate showing up and trying to play it off cool, which would've been an laughable endeavor anyhow considering how outwardly embarrassed Thomas was. Betrayal from his own-- well. It was a bit too harsh to blame his current predicament on Thomas, after all the fact of the matter was that it was Roman’s fault for not being better prepared.

Anyway, that's how he ended up in his current position, being swaddled in a too-warm bed, injuries patched up and having soup spoon-fed into his mouth. The whole thing felt...strange. Usually during times like this he would be grinning and bearing it, the inner satisfaction he got from fooling everyone with his performance pushing him through the day, but he supposed this was unavoidable. It was better that only one side had to see part of the problem rather than exposing it to everyone, and out of all of them, at least it was Patton. It still didn't sit well that his secret was now out in the open, a throwaway joke to be used before moving along, but hopefully that would play to his favor and they'd view it as his usual dramatics. Not like he preferred to be seen as too incompetent to care for himself, even if it fit with his persona. He supposed it just went without saying that princes are supposed to have someone at their every beck and call, they're supposed to be indulgent and spoiled and ridiculous. But princes were also supposed to be leaders, someone who was caring and brave and ready to face any challenge.

Roman sighed, a wave of self-loathing washing over him. He didn't feel very princely at all right now.

“Kiddo, are you doing okay? Does something hurt? Is the soup too hot?” Patton asked, eyebrows drawing together in concern. He was such an open book when it came to the other sides, which meant that Roman knew exactly when he had worried or panicked the fatherly figure. Honestly, it only made him feel worse. Being doted over seemed like a good idea until it meant being the subject of pity and other people’s hurt.

“No no, I’m fine Padre. It’s fine. I was just taking a trip into thought city for a second there.” He cracked a smile, trying to ignore how the bruise at the corner of his mouth pulled at the motion. If only he could think of a more original nickname, perhaps that would be more convincing. He was simply drawing blanks today it seemed. “What do you think the others are up to right now? I’d bet 5 bucks Logan is losing his mind having to deal with Anxiety alone.”

Patton didn’t look entirely convinced, but the sudden change of subject encouraged him to stop any further questioning.

In the end they talked until the others had finished filming. Whatever happened during the discussion must have helped Thomas grow past his feelings, because one-by-one the injuries on Roman's body grew smaller until they had faded entirely. Seeing this, Patton noticeably livened up again, and he cheerily declared that he would take the empty bowl back to the kitchen and check in with the others.

As soon as he was gone, Roman’s face dropped, tired from all the smiling he had been doing, and he slid down further into the sheets. Perhaps he should consider himself fortunate that the others had helped out, but all he could think about was how they now knew about his biggest weakness and how embarrassing that was. Logan and Anxiety were the last two sides he wanted finding out about this, if not for their often-tumultuous relationships, but because they'd never fully understand. Neither of them were as dependent on validation as much as he was. Despite what others thought about them, they would just keep on going, meanwhile Roman couldn't truly thrive without some kind of feedback; he was too shackled to expectations and the need to please for that sort of self-indulgence, it was practically written in his existence. It simply wasn't enough for him to be great, he needed to be great and be appreciated. Without that, he felt as if he would burn out, like a candle who's supply of oxygen had been cut off, leaving only smoke and the charred wick behind as a reminder of the fire that was once there. And sometimes that made him feel pathetic, that so much of his esteem depended on what people thought of him. Other times it just made him envy the others who had no one to please but Thomas himself and what he deemed important.

...He was tired, but he needed to keep going. The least he could do was keep up the image of egotism so that those horrid thoughts of being lesser weren't picked up by the others. If they started thinking of him the way he thought about himself (if they didn't already), he wouldn't know what he'd do. He wouldn't stand to be pitied or mocked or anything that validated what he already knew about himself. He just wouldn't.

Rolling out of bed, he practiced his smile in the mirror, fixed his clothes, and sunk out to make his grand appearance.

He couldn’t let this happen again at all costs.

------------------

VII - an agreeable sort of self-destruction.

More and more often, Roman was glad that he and Remus didn't share a room anymore. From the nights he hunched over scraps of ideas and worked without distraction until the sun was on the horizon, to the days he woke up with tears clinging to his lashes and breath coming out in labored pants, until he realizes the dream about him messing up so badly that he's split apart a second time was merely a cruel trick of his mind.

Currently, there was no greater time to be grateful for their separation than the moment he hastily returned back to safety after Remus' debut to Thomas. If only his brother could see the way he paced back and forth and tugged at his hair, he was sure his other half would merely gloat and poke away at his wounds instead of doing anything to help. Or worse, use it as ammunition in front of the other sides as some sort of proof of his imperfection.

Speaking of, the video was disastrous. He had been out-cold the entire time so he had no idea what was said and had no way of directing the conversation at all, which was possibly the most aggravating part of the whole situation. Beyond that, there was so much that Remus could have told the others without his knowledge. Once upon a time, the two of them were two peas in a pod, and that meant they knew an unnameable amount of secrets about each other. (Like how Remus always used to sleep with this crudely-knitted octopus Roman had made for him when he discovered crochet. Remus claimed to have set fire to it when they were teenagers, but Roman had seen it tucked away on a shelf the last time he had been in his room, before the Great Divide). The room swam a little when Roman thought about it too much. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but it wasn't as if he'd done much to earn Remus' loyalty. Why would he take the higher road and keep all of that to himself now, when he had the prime opportunity right in front of him to make himself seem like the better twin?

Hold on... He was thinking about this all wrong. Remus didn't care about good and bad the same way he did. Sure he was adamant that his version of being creative was more interesting, but he never tried to convince any of the other sides that he was inherently better or more worthy of attention than Roman, at least not to the same extent he did. The realization hit Roman like a train on it's way to a damsel tied to railway tracks (for lack of a less Remus-y simile): had he been wrong to push his brother away when he was just trying to help? All this time he had expected nothing but the worst from him, all because he was loud and unapologetic and had gone about his concern in a way that frightened him. Though just because Roman had been scared, surely that didn't warrant the dark sides being pushed aside in such a manner, and clearly the repression wasn't any benefit to Thomas...And was that partially his fault? He had been the one who encouraged Patton to divide the sides up. He had come up with the name for them: light and dark.

When he really thought about it, there wasn't much 'light' about him, not when he had been the source of so many problems.

Making Virgil feel unwelcome and continuing to trample on his boundaries.

His insults toward Logan and attempts to diminish his importance.

Leading Thomas and Patton astray in his pursuits for romance.

Being too quick to side with Janus when he should’ve known that the deceitful side only stood for selfishness and not the fair-played ambition Thomas valued.

And now: his treatment of Remus for most of their lives. Pushing him away, pretending he didn't exist, trying to erase their memories together.

How could he have the gall to claim that he saw Remus as an awful reflection of everything he didn’t want to be, when the whole point of looking into a mirror means facing you and you alone?

Even his metaphors were hypocritical.

It was a shock that nobody saw through that statement or called him out on how he had wronged just about everybody. How truly unfortunate it was that he had been declared the hero when he had done very little to live up to that title. Heroes weren't mean. They didn't make people feel bad about themselves for merely existing. They're supposed to defeat the bad guys, yes, but every time he had thought he was accomplishing that, it turned out that he was always off the mark. At least this time he had it right with Deceit, but still, that didn't erase the history he had with misjudging what was acceptable. He couldn't help but wonder what sort of reflection that must have on Thomas' content. If his creativity, which was supposed to be a force of pure good, had made a countless number of errors, what did that say about the things they were proud of? How many things had they put into the world that were imperfect? That had a misleading message? That was problematic and hurt people?

The realization had his throat tightening in panic. How could he ever have confidence in his work when he had such a flawed system of right and wrong? How-

...Wait.

Roman's spiraling thoughts were fortunately put on pause as he passed by his vanity, being pulled back to reality in an instant and finally noticing the splash of colours that had made themselves welcome on his skin once more. He gaped at his own reflection. It wasn’t as if he was unused to the sight per say, but he hadn’t realized anything had happened today that would affect Thomas’ ego. Remus’ appearance perhaps? He had the feeling that if there was any discussion to be had in light of that it would be on the goodness of his character, which could be a worthy-enough explanation. But if anything wouldn’t that what the large gash on the back of his head (fittingly) represented? So where had the others come from? Unless…

Was it him?  

His own self-criticism had never left a dent on his pride before. Usually his injuries tended to be the result of outside sources; the kind of things that come out of nowhere and hit at you harder than you could ever expect. Did this mean that his own words were on par with Thomas’ harshest critics?

Roman shakily sat down. This... was a good thing, right? Perhaps he was finally gaining some self-awareness. He had been trying to make amends for where he had fallen short in the past, so this could be the sign he was making progress.

Yes. This was good. And if it wasn't, then perhaps this was just apart of his repentance. At this point he was sure everyone would agree.

------------------

VIII - the art of learning to let go.

The thing about tightropes is quite interesting. Like most other skills, it is something that needs to be honed. At first you try on a smaller scale and fall off more times you can count, but it's alright because that's why you practice in a safe environment. And then you progress to something more risky, and this time you have other tools to help keep you steady. Before you know it, you're up doing the actual thing; a rope suspended tens of feet in the air and thousands of eyes watching your every move, each one wondering if you really will make it across, or if they're about to watch a great tragedy take place before them. When you misjudge your own abilities and are thrust upon that rope when you're unprepared, however, all of the practice you gained can feel as if it has slipped away. As soon as you take your first step, the rope wobbles and you know somewhere deep down that your fall will be inevitable. But with so many expectant eyes baring into you, what else are you to do but continue forward? Continue until you're halfway across and your balance is so shaky that all you can do is watch as the rope swings backwards and forwards beneath your feet until you give up on trying to steady yourself entirely and-

Roman let go of the rope he had been clinging onto.

There was no grace in the way that he fell. It wasn't even a matter of choosing a side; ego or change. At first he fell so gradually that he didn't feel it at all, placing all of his thoughts and opinions into a neat little box and shoving them aside. Trying so hard to adapt, trying to be feel comfortable clinging to reasoning that contradicted his role, his meaning, his existence- and before he knew it, he was plummeting towards the ground because even then, that little piece of purpose he was forcing himself to mold his worth around did nothing but feed into the self-righteousness that must've always been there, hiding away under the surface.

Roman could only describe the feeling as air-sickness when he sunk out, his very being thrown into weightless uncertainty. Once he appeared back at his safe place, the place he wanted to be most, he felt his body connect with the ground once more as he collapsed onto the floor, body shaking with sobs and wounds he already knew were appearing.

He had been so stupid. Every step he took was littered with mistakes. Just when he thought he had learned, to try to be more accepting, to know when to give up, to listen to others instead of forging his own path, another thing came along and knocked him back to where he started and he was thrown back into the cycle of trying to atone for his actions. A cycle that never seemed to end.

His arm fractured and started to swell.

For once he thought he finally had it figured out. If he just followed the person who should've known what was best for Thomas, even if it meant going back on his own desires, surely then he would be on the right side for once. But all of a sudden that was wrong and now it was all his fault that so many bad outcomes had come about as a consequence of his lack of assertion. He may not have loaded the gun, but he had pulled the trigger, and that made him more culpable than anyone else.

His nose ached as if hit by an unseen force and began dripping blood.

Even his attempts at keeping his ego in check were all for nothing because the moment he felt threatened he lashed out towards Janus, the side who now all of a sudden deserved a seat at the table because he had gained Patton's favor (nevermind that he had agreed with him first. Oh no, that was just Roman being naive and easy to sway if only you stroke his ego a little. What importance could his opinions possibly have?). But that was the thing, wasn’t it? In the end he just couldn’t win, no matter what he did. When he tried to silence his voice it was too obvious and attention-seeking, and when he chose to project his thoughts it was too loud and abrasive. When he spoke out he was punching down, but when others did the same they were punching up up up. It left him wondering how much more he had to fall before it was no longer deemed okay to kick him while he was down. Was it his fault for choosing to sit atop his golden pedestal, making himself seem forever untouchable and unable to be hurt? And would things be different if he was sensitive like Patton? Complicated like Virgil? Respectable like Logan? Had he been making a mistake all along by pretending to be stronger than he was? But how was he ever supposed to let go of the walls he had built, knowing that the second they crumbled, all the things he had been trying to protect himself from would pass through and destroy everything he had worked so hard for? Maybe it was time to accept that this was all he could be; that there was no way for him to change, no way to soften his edges or stick firm to his beliefs that wouldn’t end with him in a losing position.

His ribs ached, bending unnaturally until he felt a snap in his chest.

Perhaps Janus was right by calling him evil. He had proven it time and time again that he was no good for Thomas. In fact, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to say that he was worse than Remus. At least he couldn't help the way he was, didn't have control over the problems he caused unlike Roman. He was supposed to be the half with all the bad parts removed. The 2.0 version, new and improved. He had no excuse for being as flawed as he was, not really. All this time spent thinking he was the good twin, and it was nothing more than an act of self-delusion. The grandeur of a side with nothing to show for it beyond his words.

His eyelid puffed up and mottled with colour.

...He was bad. Unneeded. Evil.

The capillaries across his knuckles burst and stained them a violent red.

Everything would be so much better if he just-

"Broman?" Oh shit.

Romans eyes flew open. And he realized belatedly that he wasn't looking at his floor; his floor had intricate Persian rugs and a soft fluffy carpet. This one had various stains and burns and felt scratchy against his fingers.

"What the fuck. Princey? You good?"

1) He wasn't in his room. 2) Wherever he was, Remus and Virgil were here too.

"M-my mistake! I must have accidentally sunk out to the wrong place. If you'll excuse me-" He tried, but his voice was hoarse and clearly not okay. Of all times for his acting skills to have failed him.

"Oh no you don't."

Before he could sink out through the floor, two arms latched under his armpits and hoisted him upright. He choked back a gasp at the sudden movement, senses flashing white as his injuries were jostled. He barely heard the shocked exclamation in front of him before the two voices discussed something hastily and he was deposited onto a soft surface. The ringing in his ears faded, just in time to hear Virgil speak.

"What happened? " He asked, voice layered with anxiety and sounding on the verge of a panic attack. Roman would have tried to reassure him if he didn't feel like his entire body was on fire.

"It just happens sometimes, when Thomas’ ego gets bruised." Remus answered bitterly when it became clear his brother wasn't in a position to explain. He then muttered under his breath: "Though this time is different, huh?"

"What? I thought- I didn’t know it got this bad.” Virgil whispers, horrified.

"Sorry you have to see this, Finding Emo." Roman croaked once he began slowly coming back to his senses. He would regret not being more composed later, but right now he couldn't really bring himself to care about anything. “I’ll be as good as Gucci soon.”

"No. Shut the fuck up, you don't get to say that." Remus said angrily. Why did he sound so mad? Roman tried to crack open his eyes to check, but the world was still spinning too much for him to really recognize what was he was seeing. On top of that it seemed one of his eyes was swollen shut. Joy. That'll make it more difficult to patch himself up later.

"'Told you before, I can handle myself." He finally managed.

"Yeah? Was that you 'handling yourself' when you dropped in and started bleeding all over my floor? Or when you stopped talking to me and kicked us 'dark sides' to the curb because your sense of superiority was more important? Or when you started acting like a royal prick to everyone just so they wouldn't know you spend your nights licking your wounds?"

"Stop." Roman pleaded, shamefully curling into himself as much as his body allowed in its current state. Remus paused in his tirade before continuing, more quietly.

"If you're uncomfortable just from that, you should try watching your brother slowly self-destruct for years and not being able to do anything about it. That's fucking uncomfortable." Roman heard a sniffle, and his body went cold. He hadn't heard Remus get upset since they were kids. Sometimes he forgot that there was more to his brother than his disgusting unpredictable persona, and the thought that he could've been hurting Remus all this time was something that had never even crossed his mind.

"I'm..." Sorry? Was he sorry? Apologizing was practically second nature at this point, but he couldn't even tell if the words would be genuine if he said them. Was he sorry for his actions or for hurting Remus, or was it the fact that he had been caught at all? If he had it his way, none of this would be happening, so perhaps he wasn't as apologetic as he thought. He really was the worst, wasn't he?

Remus seemed to pick up on what he was thinking about saying, because he laughed; not in his usual cartoon-ish way, but resigned and hurt. The sound pulled at Roman's heart. "Save it. Here's what's going to happen you Walmart Prince Eric knockoff. You’re going to accept our help whether you like it or not, and if you try to pull any self-sacrificing BS at any point, I’m going to eat your entire makeup collection.”

“...You wouldn’t. You don’t like the way glitter sticks to your teeth.” Roman argued weakly, just for the sake of being contrary.

“Try me.”

Roman sighed. He really didn’t doubt that Remus would be petty enough to go through with his threats, especially since he knew it how much it would bother Roman to summon a new set. In any case, he wasn’t in a position to do much of anything at the moment, and now that it was too late to pretend like this never happened, he figured he might as well roll with it. Future him could deal with the consequences later.

“Okay.” He said after a moments pause, looking to the Virgil-shaped figure, as much as the crick in his neck would allow. “...Just don’t tell Patton about this. Not yet.”

The figure shuffled, out of what was probably awkwardness after having watching the twins argue. “No worries dude. We’re not exactly on- uh. Y’know what, nevermind, I’ll just go get the medical kit.”

During the moments that Virgil had shuffled off, there was an empty silence. Roman spent it trying to blink his uninjured eye back into focus, until he was finally able to spot Remus standing across from him, an uncharacteristically glum look on his face. "You look like you're going to a funeral."

"Don't even joke about that. I don't need more thoughts about-"

"Death? I thought that was pretty par for the course."

Remus smiled wryly at him, sarcastic and mocking. "You dying, dummy. D'you think I never imagined it? Something happening and you disappearing because you never let anyone help you- and me not even knowing it happened? Finding out much too late? Being alone?"

Roman didn't know what to say to that. "Sorry." He blurted out, and this time he felt like he meant it. "If it means anything in retrospect, I wouldn't have ever let it go that far. I think."

"'You think.'" Remus repeated. "God, you need some self-care. It's a shame you and Jan-jan weren't friends before. It's supposed to be his job to make sure this kind of thing doesn't happen, you know."

Roman felt himself flinch at the mention of Janus' name before he could control it. If Remus noticed, he didn't get the chance to comment on it, because at that moment Virgil came bustling back with a first aid kit.

"I didn't know what else you needed, so I got some water, balms, bandages, frozen peas, and creams. Just in case." He spoke, noticeably out of breath.

"Water?" Roman asked as a glass was held towards him. He pushed himself upright with some effort and accepted it.

"For painkillers." Virgil replied, handing him some pills once he had set the other items down. "Also your throat sounded kinda rough, and when you cry a lot you can get dehydrated, so..."

Surreptitiously, Roman wiped at his face and tried to not feel too embarrassed that the two of them had heard him wail like a toddler who'd had their favourite toy taken away. Before he knew it, he had taken the pills and downed half of the glass while the other two sides unpacked the medical supplies. Virgil really had thought of everything he might have needed.

Roman blinked as he watched them, stunned that he would go to so much effort. "This is very thoughtful of you, Medic Parade."

Virgil paused as he pieced together the nickname, and then scowled. "Mayday doesn't even sound anything like medic- and it's not. I just didn't want to- y'know- get the wrong things and make it worse."

Remus elbowed Virgil in the side, perhaps in an attempt to cheer him up. "Hey, you can't do any worse than what we did the first time Ro got a booboo."

"...And what was that?" Virgil's hesitant tone indicated he wasn't sure if he want to know.

"Nothing!" Remus grinned.

"I'm pretty sure that was just a concussion." Roman stated before Virgil got the wrong idea and thought they were totally stupid, looking upward as he tried to recall the incident Remus was talking about. It felt like forever ago now. "Not like anything could be done, to be fair."

"'Just'-" Virgil made a strange choked sound. "Is this what my life's gonna be now? Having a worry-induced heart attack every 5 minutes?"

"Welcome to the club!" Remus cheered, offering a fist bump which Virgil ignored in favour of burying his head in his hands.

"Goddammit. Alright- let's get this show on the road I guess. Roman, take your shirt off." When Remus' eyebrows started waggling, clearly about to make an inappropriate comment, Virgil waved his hands wildly to stop him. "So we can look at the damage! Shut your mouth Remus!"

"I didn't say anything." He intoned, looking overly smug before turning to Roman expectantly.

Said man frowned, placing the glass of water on the bedside table next to him. Before he made any move, he glanced at Virgil who was looking red either out of Remus-induced embarrassment or frustration. Mood. "You don't have to stick around for this part if you don't want to. It can be a bit much, so I wouldn't blame you."

"I'm not a baby, Roman." Virgil retorted, crossing his arms. "Making sure you don't die or something is way more important than my comfort. I can't promise you'll be safe from me calling you an idiot until you're better, though."

Roman looked away again. Was that condescending of him to ask? He opened his mouth to apologize, before closing it in resignation. No need to make this into an issue; he'll ask Virgil whether he felt belittled later. "...Okay. That's fair."

Instead of going through the pain of trying to remove a shirt with a possibly broken rib, he snapped and it disappeared. He heard a sharp inhale, but in response to what, he didn't know. Roman looked downwards to check. Among the remnants of previous attempts at self-healing (some messier than others), the area around his right rib was inflamed and a large portion of his stomach was splotched with purple. Noticeably, his left arm was also burning red, but luckily it seemed like the fracture there was non-displaced, which hopefully meant it would heal quicker. Other than that, there weren't any major injuries besides his black eye and bloody nose that needed attention. Could be worse, considering how god-awful he felt! 

Remus whistled. "You look like someone took a dalmatian and made it the colours of the bi-flag."

"Yeah. That's- weirdly accurate." Virgil winced. "What hurts most?"

"Uh- My arm and my ribs I suppose. They're a little... on the broken side."

"That's what I thought." Virgil muttered under his breath, grabbing the items to make a split. "I'll deal with those first, Remus you help with his nose and the bruising. And if you want to make yourself useful, hold these peas to your eye, dumbass."

"Your bedside manners are impeccable." Roman said sarcastically, taking the bag of peas and exhaling as he adjusted to the cold feeling pressed against his face. "...Here I thought there would be a grace period before you started calling me names."

"Just calling it like I see it." Virgil hummed. With deft fingers, he held the splint under Roman's forearm and began winding the bandages around it. "You should probably make an actual brace later when you're up to it, but hopefully this should keep it in place and remind you to not use it for now."

"But that sides my dominant arm-" Roman whined, about to complain about how he was supposed to get work done until Remus pinched the bridge of his nose none too gently, and he yelped. "Ow! Remus."

"Think of that as payback for the last 15 years." Remus replied lightly. "Tilt your head back."

Begrudgingly, Roman complied, resting his head against the headboard.  He stared at the ceiling as his brother and best friend silently worked their way around his injuries, applying topical ointment to his bruises and applying band-aids to small cuts. He didn't even realize they had finished until Remus bonked him on the head.

"All done! Shame it's not Halloween. You could go as a mummy again."

"Ha ha. What a comedian you are." Roman replied in a deadpan, but fought to keep a smile away anyway. The irony of how much he resembled that costume right now definitely wasn't lost on him.

"...I'm sorry for ruining that, by the way." Virgil spoke up suddenly from where he had been packing everything away, breaking the thoughtful silence he'd been in for the past few minutes. "Your costume during the Christmas video, I mean. And saying all of that harsh stuff to make a point."

Roman only stared, taken aback. "All of that happened half a year ago. I'm not upset about that."

"I know, I know. It's just... I've been thinking about it recently, all the times I haven't acted very...good." He bit his lip, averting his eyes. "Especially now, knowing that kind of thing literally hurts you."

"Virgil." Roman sighed softly, taking his hand. Virgil startled but didn't pull away. "You don't need to be 'good' all the time. Wasn't that the point you were trying to get across back then? All of us have made mistakes in our pasts, some more than others, but if you can forgive us for that, then you deserve the same acceptance for your less-than-stellar moments."

"Oh." He said, eyes glassy. His hand tightened around Roman's. "I'm still sorry, if I've ever made things worse for you or if I haven't been supportive enough."

"I- You have-"  Roman spluttered worriedly, sitting up.

"It's alright, I already know that we kinda work against each other at times. Part of the job." Roman's mouth closed with a grimace. "Still, it's unfair on you. You shouldn't be expected to perfect, especially not with an asshole like me there to tear into your work. So just...know that it's okay to tell us when you're struggling, okay?"

"Right..." Roman bit his cheek. Virgil seemed well-meaning, but showing that sort of weakness was a concept he still found difficult to accept, even if he had given in this time and allowed himself to be completely seen. Virgil noticed his lackluster agreement and patted him with his free hand.

"Hey. In almost any case we'd embrace you."

"...No one hates you."  Roman finished a beat later with a small smile. Virgil's face lit up and moved closer to his side. Upon seeing this, Remus unceremoniously squished himself between the two of them, careful not to bump against Roman too much (although Virgil definitely got the brunt of Remus crawling over him, to his dismay).

"Look at you two, my favourite dorks, bonding over feeling insecure!" He declared, throwing an arm around both of them. "Couldn't be me, but I still love you."

Roman poked Remus' side. "So that wasn't you admitting to being worried earlier?"

"Nope! New phone who dis?"

"You're insufferable." Virgil rolled his eyes fondly. "...I love you guys."

And Roman sighed contently, feeling safe and cared for. Things weren't perfect right now; he still needed time to heal and Remus and Virgil would undoubtedly want him to open up about what happened sooner or later, but for now he was was able to hear that he was loved and believe it to be true, and that was enough.

"I love you both too. Thank you."

[greenninjagal-blog]

Fool Me Thrice

Hey guys! My three day spoiler free band is up so now you guys get to see what I did immediately after that new video (FwSA) came out! 

Summary: The aftermath of FwSA but Virgil was actually Janus in disguise the whole time. (featuring: Janus breaking down to tears and Roman being really confused.)

Word Count: 4734

Quick Taglist:@alias290 @chelsvans @coyboi300 @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @mrbubbajones  @musical-nerd18 @nonasficcollection @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws @welovelogansanders  

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

“DON’T TELL ME TO RELAX!” Janus yells, but the incessant bubbling in his stomach causes the edges of his lips to quirk up anyway. It’s a ridiculous, intoxicating feeling, and it’s curling around his insides like a snake coiling around its prey. He wants to smile. He wants to jump. He wants to sing.

But Virgil doesn’t do any of those things unless under threat and pressure and Janus has to keep-- he’s still pretending-- Janus is impersonating Virgil.

He’s not doing a very good job of it, and he knows. Ever since that stranger at the food court, that stranger who might be gay, that stranger whose name is Nico Flores and happens to write songs-- Ever since Nico uttered those silly, little words, and Thomas’s Heart and Creativity had swamped the controls, the more….intellectual sides were finding it hard to….think.

Everything’s fuzzy and blurry and Janus keeps trying to hit back that buzzing between his ears that comes every time that Roman and Patton team up and get lost in their contagious excitement. Virgil, certainly, is probably docile by now, flooded with the warm feelings that make it hard to panic over anything for at least another hour because he’s too busy riding that high of the “honeymoon” phase of dating-- before he remembers that it's possible that Nico might be a Serial Killer who lures his victims into relationships before slicing their throats and hiding their bodies in the woods.

He doubts that Logan’s having fun either: he hadn’t even bothered to show up when they had first spotted Nico across the cafeteria, not even to throw out that suggestion of saying “I see from your stickers we have similar interests. Let us discuss the possibility of future copulation now.” Which, of course, spells all sorts of troubles that Janus is going to have to fix later.

Later which seems to be now, because Thomas is jittery from the excitement flowing off of Roman and Patton and he is going to text Joan all about it which requires none of Janus-Virgil’s help.

It’s a flawless escape. Janus smiles inwardly, at the gooey feeling of pride in his stomach. He did it! One whole video, completely undercover! 

It figures that Virgil would be the key. 

Of all of them...well, Janus has always known Virgil the best. Anxiety and Self Preservation have gone hand in hand since Thomas was in diapers still. Janus grew up watching the curve of Virgil’s tense shoulders, watching the flickering of his eyes watching the entry points of the room, watching Virgil’s smirk curl and his eyeshadow bloom and--

And Janus knows Virgil hates him right now, even underneath the gooey layer of good feelings Patton is pumping through all of the Thomasphere. Janus even thinks that if he pops in to check on the little ball of nerves, Virgil will come back to his senses and start a murderous rampage on his way to stop Janus from ever impersonating any of them ever again. Which is definitely what Thomas needs right now. 

Whatever. He can celebrate his victory privately.

Thomas is happy. That’s all that matters right now. The rest can wait until the good emotions in Thomas calm down and Janus can think clearly again: he’ll get out his fermented grape juice and pour it in a glass so he can feel fancy and then he’ll figure out how to deal with Logan, listen to Patton’s emotional-gushing-that-ends-in-overwhelmed-tears, entertain the Duke’s R rated fantasies with a polite smile, congratulate the Prince for his victory, and then after all that he’ll send Virgil a card via messenger dove to thank him for his...bravery.

And then he’ll go to sleep for two hours, and hopefully when he wakes back up Thomas will not be on fire.

That’s… that’s a reasonable hope, right? He’s not asking too much of the other idiot sides, right?

The buzz between his eyes sharpens for a second, as Thomas shakes his hands some more, with a grin that Janus would absolutely die for. It's almost regrettable because if anyone took a moment to look at him, to look at the way he looks at Thomas, they would see immediately what his weakness is: Janus is Self Preservation, Self Importance, Self, self, self. 

He’s weak for Thomas’s smile. The gut force that drives Virgil to do things is protection, so he tries to make Thomas recognize everything as a threat; for Roman its creation, so he tries to push Thomas to achieve all of his dreams. For Janus it's Thomas’s id wants, so he does whatever it takes to keep him happy.

A smile on Thomas’s face means that Janus is doing good, that he’s doing right by Thomas. Who cares if in the end he’s the villain of the story? Who cares about him when there’s Thomas?

Thomas thanks him again-- actually he thanks Virgil, but Janus' face flushes anyway. The feeling in his stomach washes over him, leaving his knees weak and his lips smiling. Is this what being giddy is? He suddenly understands, suddenly, why Patton subscribes to that whole “Thomas is morally and objectively the best” philosophy; It’s a nice feeling, even if it makes it hard for Janus to concentrate on keeping Virgil’s eyeshadow the right color.

Thomas rushes by him-- almost close enough to touch again and wow Janus’ hands were still tingling from that; He forgot that Virgil was always able to touch their host-- and runs up the stairs to go scream in a pillow and text Joan the brilliant news and Janus takes that as his cue.

Time to wrap it up and go. (to sleep. Oh god, he can hear his bed calling for him already.) 

But when he turns back to the last side in the room, Roman is pressing his knuckles to his lips and staring at the blinds in Thomas’s living room like he can set them on fire with his mind.

“Princey?” Janus asks, his own smile slipping. “What’s up?”

Roman snaps over to look at him-- to look at Virgil, whom he trusts and likes and appreciates and who is definitely not Janus at all. Despite that, the way that Roman is looking at him with furrowed eyebrows that would sing of a scowl if Patton had been doing his job just slightly not as well as he is currently, forces Janus to check to make sure he’s still wearing Virgil’s appearance.

“I can’t figure it out,” Roman says, looking like he just caught his best friends in the middle of decorating for his surprise birthday party. “Why?”

Janus squeezes his eyes closed trying to focus on what Roman was talking about. He knows that he missed at least one thing that was said in the hullabaloo all day, but he didn’t think it was something that Roman of all sides would be upset about. Why, what? Roman got the guy. What was so complicated about that?

Actually asking why is more on brand for Virgil.

For a ridiculous second Janus wonders if that was Virgil wearing Roman’s outfit and pretending to be him the way that Janus was pretending to be Virgil. But Janus is decently sure that Virgil can’t resist insulting Janus for more than five seconds at a time, and they’ve been side by side for hours now.

(And hadn’t that been nice? If Janus had just closed his eyes, he could have imagined the grateful smile Roman had given Virgil had been meant for him.) 

“I don’t know what you’re on about, Ro,” Janus shrugs. “But I’m gonna go. All these good emotions are like...disgusting.” He sticks out his tongue that way that he’s seen Virgil do every time that Thomas has to eat the carrots his mom put on his plate just to sell the act, but Roman’s jaw sets.

“Why did you do that?” Roman bursts out before Janus can get all the way out, “Why? Janus!”

Janus should have run then, should have pretended that Virgil hadn’t heard him at all and let the other sides argue with each other, but his name is so new and shiny and no one ever uses it. The words vibrate through the air like needles and the next thing he knows is that he’s pinned in place, frozen, and Roman is looking very not-happy anymore.

Ha, so he knew. Looks like Janus can’t get through a video without being outed.

“I know it's you, you slimy snake,” Roman says. “Will you stop wearing Virgil’s face already! I want an answer!”

Janus’s tongue flicks in his mouth, rolling over the back of his teeth as he tries to think of the best way to handle this when all of his thoughts have to process through the molasses that is the gooey happiness Thomas is feeling and his own exhaustion.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Janus says, as blase as he can make it.

Which is….maybe not his best idea. The buzzing in his head makes the rest of the room go blurry for a second, in and out of focus and it’s so very helpful. 

Roman’s face goes red, stuck somewhere between being angry and being insulted. He reaches out and Janus’ legs do that thing where they don’t work so when he throws his weight back, away, out of reach, his body goes plummeting to the foot of the stairs as well.

Roman yelps, leaning forward for a moment maybe with the intent to help him back up but Janus throws up a hand to stop him before he knows for sure. His eyelids are heavy, he realizes, and he’s tired and he really doesn’t want to have a fight with Roman right now.

“I had fun, Roman. Thank you for the... entertainment this evening.” He says, dropping the last of his stellar Virgil impression. He wonders how long he had Roman fooled, if he had him fooled at all for any point. Does he dare wonder how many of those smiles were given knowing that it was Deceit in disguise?

(He doesn’t and he resents the implication that he cares what the others think of him.)

“Congrats on wooing the boy or whatever.” Janus climbs back up to his feet and brushes imaginary dust off his tunic. Or it could be real. He’s not sure considering that he’s so tired he can’t see anything in front of him.

“You fiend!” Roman snarls, “What did you do to our Stormcloud?”

“Why don’t you go find out?”Janus suggests, with a half-assed flourish, even by his own standards, “Or better yet, don’t. In the meantime, I’ll be in my room.”

But Roman snags his arm and holds him up and Janus is acutely aware that sinking out with another side is troublesome and takes so, so much focus and energy. (And Romans touch is scalding. It’s burning. It’s white hot and Janus wasn’t aware he had been freezing before.)

“I’m tired of this game, Snakes and Ladders!” Roman says. “Tired of not knowing what you’re up to! Tired of not knowing what Thomas wants! Tired of getting backseat to self care and morality and-- and I’m Tired, Janus! Why do you keep doing this to me?!”

And hooooooo, does that strike something in Janus! The soft feelings in his chest burn right up in an anger he hadn’t even known he had been feeling. But it must have been there for a while because it boils right through him, leaving his chest smoldering and his mouth tasting like ashes.

“You think you’re tired?” He snaps, burns, blazes. There’s something in this throat, and it makes every word catch fire when it comes out of his mouth. And even Roman has enough sense to know that fire is dangerous and that he’s going to be cremated if he doesn’t step back.

“You think you’re tired,” Janus repeats, taking a step forward so that they’re nearly toe-to-toe and he can see the way that Roman’s Adam's apple bobs. “What about me, Roman? Don’t you think I’m tired? That I’m exhausted? That I know I’m going to have to sink back down and figure out what is wrong with Logan and listen to Patton and keep Remus busy and make sure that none of you morons overpower the others and drive Thomas directly into the ground? That I haven’t slept a full night since the whole start of these videos and moral dilemmas and whatever else? Every time I turn around Thomas is making another lie: to his friends, to his family, to himself! Don’t you think that I… that I…”

Roman is staring at him.

Janus’s head pounds. The room around him sways and he thinks that maybe...maybe the reason he can’t think straight right now doesn’t actually have anything to do with Patton’s elation keeping Thomas busy.

“Oh,” Janus says because he blinked and now he’s on the floor. 

He blinks again and Roman is right next to him, looking concerned-- how ridiculous. Roman being concerned for him. Ha.

“Janus…” Roman’s voice is low, which makes Janus aware suddenly that everything else had been so loud all this time. He grits his teeth when Roman waves a hand and magics up… what are those, tissues? Why would he--

Oh.

Janus is crying. He reaches a hand up tentatively rubbing away the tears, and has to swallow a laugh. Oh, he's crying. When was the last time he cried? When was the last time he cried in front of someone else? 

He's so, so tired. And that's the reason-- the only reason, mind you-- that when Roman scooches closer, a centimeter, an inch, a foot, and then rests his hand on Janus' shoulder, Janus doesn't push him off and immediately sink out to his room. It takes too much energy to lock a room, even his, from the others and Roman would surely follow after him and demand answers.

Roman’s touch is a shaky, changing warmth. Janus noticed it earlier when Roman had said the word “Bravery” and Janus hadn’t been able to form an actual response because he was so busy wondering if this was how all touch was supposed to feel. But now he thinks he can count every single atom that is touching him and the awareness hums in his veins in a way that shouldn’t be possible.

He sucks in an equally shaky breath and tries not to look like he’s leaning into the feeling. His stomach rolls around, twisting and churning to the point where it hurts. He might be able to blame this on a stomach bug. The other sides probably wouldn’t look farther than that. They don’t like him enough to look farther than that.

“Janus,” Roman says again, calling him by name and Janus wants to tell him to stop. He sounds like he cares and Janus knows it’s a lie. He thinks it’s a lie. He’s pretty sure it’s a lie.

It’s hard to tell right now, especially when his own inner desire is yearning for it not to be. He can’t trust himself when he’s like this. He always ends up doing something stupid.

Like sitting at the foot of Thomas’s stairs crying in front of Roman.

“Fuck,” Janus says, and laughs, like this was part of his grand master plan that definitely exists. He ignores the tissues Roman places at their knees and uses the back of his palms to get rid of those pesky, unprofessional tears. “My most humble apologies, my dear prince. Too much fun today I suppose--”

“Janus,” Roman cuts him off, and Janus wishes his sharp inhale was a little less noticeable. “Are you… Did….”

Janus can feel how Roman’s thumb is rubbing his shoulder, slow circles like a loading screen while he tries to weave together a sentence that makes coherent sense.

“Why?” Roman decides. “Why are you...why did you help Thomas meet Nico? Why did you force him to do it naturally without any lies? I thought you liked when Thomas tells lies!”

Janus snorts, which is a bad decision because his nose is runny and, god, now there’s snot all over his face, which just makes the lump in the back of his throat grow larger. He snatches up the stupid tissues and tears open the pack.

“I don’t--” Janus wipes away the snot, and tosses the tissue into oblivion. “I don’t want Thomas to lie all the time. Do you think I’m crazy, Roman? I have to manage every lie Thomas tells himself! It’s… It’s… imagine if you had to make a new video script every single day.”

Janus can see Roman’s confused look. It's adorable really, like a puppy that just got told to “Stay.” He recognizes that Janus is saying something, that Janus is talking to him, but the full meaning of the words is lost on him.

“If it's so taxing, why do you do it, then?” He asks, like it's some sort of choice and not his job.

“Why do you make video scripts? Why do you help Thomas practice his lines? Why do you take him on daydreams when he’s bored?” 

“Because he asks me to,” Roman answers without a single hesitation. “Wait….”

Janus leans forward pressing his chin to his knees. His eyes close for a moment, two, three while Roman struggles to understand what Janus isn’t blatantly saying.

“Imagine if Thomas asked you to make a new video script every single day. Do you think you could say no to that?”

Roman makes a wounded noise from deep in the bottom of his soul. It resonates in the air between them, like an elephant neither of them wants to admit is there. Janus breathes in deeply, and wards off the fresh round of lovely wonderful tears that come from his lovely wonderful headache.

“I’m sorry about the court case, Roman,” Janus says. The words feel dangerous, like throwing knives and Roman flinches back, leaving the spot on Janus’s shoulder painfully freezing. “I wanted-- I wanted Thomas to do what he loved. I wanted him to stop lying about wanting to go to the callback and I thought that if I just made it so that only you could make the decision it would be easier! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Janus breathes in, but somehow it seems that all the oxygen in the room had dissipated without their knowledge. He gasps a few times, trying to get a steady rhythm back but the white noise in his head and the itch behind his eyes keep throwing him off. 

There’s laughter-- it takes him a moment to realize it's his own. Which is just great, just fantastic, just what he needed. He finally got the sordid apology out and now he’s laughing. 

But Roman is looking at him not with a scowl, but with some other emotion Janus can’t quite name through his blurry vision. For a second he thinks it might be fear-- which is even more funny than the idea that Virgil had been pretending to be Roman this whole time. In the safety of Thomas’s apartment, when Thomas had just gotten the boy of his dreams, when Janus was on the ground out of secret agendas to hide, what is there for Roman to fear?

“I just--” Janus gasps one more time, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest. “Thomas deserves a win. You deserve a win. That's why I wanted to help with Nico.” He feels like his head is going to pop right off. Maybe if he asks nicely Roman will get out his sword and do it free of charge and relatively painlessly.

“So I...ha, so I spent all day playing dress up,” Janus hates the wobble in his voice. “And now I’m a day behind on managing all my work and now Patton’s going to want to talk about what happened today, and someone needs to listen to Remus and Logan is obviously not doing too well so I have to check on him-- and Virgil too even though Virgil will probably throw something at me but I have to….And then Thomas is going to need me and I have…. I have to…”

“You really… you really do all that?” Roman says in a small voice that doesn’t suit him at all. “All by yourself?”

“Well, it’s not like there’s anyone else to help, Roman.” Janus says before he can stop himself.

“I’ll help you!”

Janus freezes. Because, well.

He’s heard those words before, hasn’t he? Not all that too long ago. When the divide between dark and light was more defined and Thomas hadn’t started posting videos with them in it and Janus wasn’t afraid of the purple door in the middle of the hall.

He knows how this conversation goes all too well.

But Janus apparently can’t learn any new tricks because he still says, “No, I can do this myself.”

(“You’ll kill yourself from stress, Jan!” Virgil had yelled. “Then where will we be?”

“I have everything under control, Virgil! I don’t need any help! Just drop it, okay?”

“Thomas and the Light sides are running you ragged and you want me to pretend like it isn’t hurting you? Are you crazy? They need to stop lying so much!” 

“No! I can handle this!”

“Janus!”

“Virgil!”

“I can’t let you keep doing this,” Virgil had said, “If you won’t do something I will.”

“Don’t you dare!”

But he had. And now he was a light side, an accepted side, everyone’s favorite side. And he was slowly convincing Thomas to stop lying by turning Janus into something to be feared and avoided. How quaint. How trademark.)

Roman is staring at him. Janus can feel the weight of his eyes on him, and somehow that's worse than his hand on Janus’ shoulder. It’s heavier. It’s harder to just shrug off. It means something more.

Because Roman isn’t talking. And Janus isn’t hiding.

And if the words weren’t so hard to say, he thinks that maybe Virgil was right, and he should apologize.

“Huh,” Roman says after the silence threatens to swallow them both. He clears his throat and mercifully looks away, staring at that painting over Thomas’s couch. “I didn’t think you were stupid.”

Janus hisses at him, at the idea of him. But Roman flicks his fingers.

“Oh come on, Ouroboros,” Roman says. “You handle all of Thomas’s lies, and then you’re out there looking after each of us sides as well? I think after 31 videos we can all agree that one side being entire in control of Thomas is a bad thing! So why are you still trying to do everything?”

Janus has a very good answer. The best answer. 

But Roman’s elbow reaches out and nudges him and all his thoughts scatter into the air. Maybe that was intentional, but Janus can’t find the energy in himself to really be angry about it. 

“I…” Janus says, “I just want Thomas to be happy.”

“So do the rest of us too, Snakecrates!-- Get it? Like Socrates?-- Not gonna lie, your way to make him happy is truly… the foulest of methods, but at the end of the day we’re all a part of him.” Roman says. “Maybe instead of trying to puppet master this you could...try working with us? Like showing up as yourself instead of using Virgil’s or Logan’s face again?”

Janus snorts again. The backs of his eyelids shoot bright red stars across his vision. “As if. None of you would listen if I did things that way.”

Roman nudges him again. “It's just a suggestion, Slitherous Snape.”

“How many of those do you have?”

“Nicknames?” Roman pauses, and Janus guesses that he’s counting on his hand. “Dunno. A lot. I never get to use them because you show up in someone else’s clothes and I don’t realize it’s you. All the more reason you should listen to me and just show up as your usual self!”

Janus must have made a noise, but his brain is too preoccupied with the fact that the carpet in Thomas’s apartment is actually really comfy and if he buries his head in his knees the room is actually dark. His headache is a dull repetitive thob, like a drum beat that if he doesn’t focus too much on becomes a noise he can fall asleep to.

“I thought you hated me.” He admits, in a quiet tone and only partially hopes that it was too low for Roman to hear.

“Fool me once,” Roman says in a soft tone, humming like it's a melody. “Shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me thrice…”

He sighs deeply.

“And I think that means we need to actually think about talking out things like adults.” Roman nudges him again, and then places his arm around Janus’s shoulders. “But not right now, when you’re half dead from exhaustion. Let’s get you to your room, Jan.”

There’s a cold feeling around both of them, washing over Janus’s muscles like a flood, as they sink down. His eyes open briefly just in time to make out his own room surroundings before Roman drops him on his bed.

Oh, it’s really comfortable. Has his body always sunk into his mattress like this?

“Get some sleep, Deceit,” Roman says.

“Wait... Logan…” Janus definitely does not whine.

“I’ll handle the nerd.” 

There are so many reasons why that’s a bad idea-- Janus knows there are a bunch of reasons because he wrote them down on flashcards to study in between grieving Virgil leaving the dark sides and managing the lies Thomas tells day to day and the ones he had going on forever and the ones that sides told each other and--.

But before he can say any of that, Roman sifts a gentle hand through his hair and Janus loses the ability to think again.

(Janus really doesn’t remember when Roman gained that power.)

He curls up almost unintentionally on his bed, and Roman makes a noise that could have been a laugh, if Janus cared enough to check.

“Sweet dreams,” Roman says softly.

“W…wait!” Janus gathers the last bit of his energy, the residue from the gooey feelings Thomas was harboring, and surges after Roman before he can leave all the way. “How did you... know it was me? And not…”

“Virgil?” Roman offered. “You kept messing with the eyeshadow, Janus. He has that angsty charcoal color on twenty-four-seven. You kept changing it to purple. I mean I liked it, but that’s not his style.”

Janus frowns. “No….he has the purple when he’s happy. I know he has the purple… He only started wearing the black...when he was trying to freak out Thomas.” He sighs and settles back into his pillow. “It glows...when he’s happy…”

Janus has plenty of memories about that, too. They were some of his favorites: Virgil on Christmas morning when the prospect of presents was more scary than the idea of all Thomas’s relatives coming over, Virgil on late nights watching cryptid history shows with Remus and talking about marrying Mothman when Thomas got older, Virgil right after he first appeared to Thomas, glowing in all senses of the word because their host knew who he was. 

Janus remembers being a little upset when Virgil covered it up, because it was another lie then: Virgil was hiding part of who he was and the three of them had always agreed on no lies between them. 

Besides Virgil had always looked younger with the purple, looked more happy, looked more approachable. He looked like he was excited to see Janus and not like he would rip out his throat if they ended up in a room alone together. 

Virgil was purple long before he had been black, and Janus thinks he might have been in love with him even before that too.

Who had he been talking to, again?

Janus gets the distinct feeling something is wrong, but his pillows are comfy, and his mattress is soft and he’s been running on fumes for far too long. He’s fast asleep before he realizes that Roman is still in his room, frowning, and wondering if that meant Virgil had never actually been happy around the Light Sides at all. 

[stevesharrlngtons]

Headcannon for Roman trying to make it up to the reader after they get into a pretty big fight.

((thank you to @upirs for the brainstorming help!!))

you’re so close to being done with roman

you were so close to being done being second choice to his job, and never ever more important than the tower

and one night when he gets home, four hours after his usually departure, you’re there to tell him

“i just don’t know if i can do it anymore roman. i can’t keep living in the shadows and only seeing you for a few minutes before bed every night”

“so what? you’re going to make me choose between you and my job?” he snapped

“no. but i’m saying that if you don’t start making an effort, than i am done, roman. we’re done”

and truthfully, you didn’t feel bad about your ultimatum

you were important and so were your feelings and your needs

no matter how much you loved roman, you were going to sacrifice your happiness and feeling of worth

and roman just started to scream and yell, about how selfish you were being, about how hard he works so you can live the life you do

“i don’t give a fuck about the money, roman! all i want is you!”

“then give me the fucking credit cards! hand them to me, because there is no more saks shopping sprees for you”

and you ran to your purse and threw your amex at him in fury

the screaming didn’t end for over an hour, the fight twisting and turning to other topics, but always coming back down to roman’s priorities

in the end, when you could barely produce tears anymore and your body was weak, you said:

“roman we need a break, so both of us can figure out what’s important”

and roman went pale, every ounce of blood that had been flushing his face with anger drained

“baby, c’mon, don’t do something you’ll regret...”

“good night, roman. i’ll move some stuff out tomorrow,” and with that, you went up the stairs and shut the door to the guest room without looking back

roman slept on the couch that night, even though you had left the bedroom free for him

he couldn’t stomach being in your bed without you

maybe ever again if he didn’t fix what he had done

the next morning when you exited the guest room, roman was sat in the hallway waiting for you

“good morning,” he said as he scrambled to his feet to follow you downstairs

you stayed quiet as roman followed you like a shadow

“so last night—“

“it’s too early for this roman...”

“not for what i have to say”

“yeah? and what is that?” you turned around to look at him with a stone expression

“that i’m... that i’m sorry. there, i said it. i’m sorry, i really am”

you crossed your arms over your chest

“and yknow, you were right about a lot. you were right and i was just pissed about that. and im gonna make it up to you”

you stayed silent and replied with a raise of your eyebrow

“i took the week off.”

and your face changes to shock

“...and I have a travel agent on stand by to get us tickets to anywhere wanna go, ok? we could go to thailand and ride elaphants like you’ve always wanted, or we’ll go to paris and walk around the louvre, or fuck we’ll just go to new york for the week and you can shop to your hearts content. baby anything you want, we’ll do”

roman was speaking fast and frantic, trying desperatly to convince you that he was worth sticking by, that he was worth staying with

“is this real, ro? or is this trip just something that you can wave in my face later when i tell you you’re working too much?”

“no, no. it’s not. this is just... it’s an i love you and i’m sorry. it’s my bid to prove to you those things and to stay”

and roman feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest as you stand still in front of him, contemplating

after an undisclosed amount of time that roman would never be able to truly figure out, you scoot forward on your socked feet and buried your face in his chest

roman had never wrapped his arms around you so quick

“thailand,” you muttered to his sleep shirt, “i want to pet an elephant.”

“ok baby, of course baby, i love you, whatever you want”

[sign-from-god-complex]

Summary: The two of them were friendly now—the days of hurtful nicknames and angrily putting each other down had long since passed—but even still Virgil was hesitant to open up to Roman. And it seemed as if Roman felt the same.

Pairing: Platonic prinxiety.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil wandered down the stairs, rubbing at his eyes and only catching each step with his foot on sheer luck alone. He was barely even conscious—having woken up from a nightmare not more than a few hours after he'd gone to bed—and in his vaguely uncomfortable and jittery state, Virgil had decided that maybe a snack would make him feel better and started his move down to the kitchen.

The light was already on, he noticed vaguely, but it didn't really seem important until he came to the door of the kitchen and was greeted with a sight that woke him up entirely.

"You're crying."

Roman spun around abruptly, wiping at his eyes like Virgil was earlier but in less of an I'm-tired-and-trying-to-wake-myself-up way and more of a trying-to-hide-the-consequences-of-a-3-am-mental-breakdown way. Virgil would know; he had plenty of experience with both.

"I'm not crying, Charlie Frown," Roman insisted, "Your brain is playing tricks on you. Just go back to bed."

"Low blow, blaming a man's faulty brain for something you didn't want me to see," Virgil said, dropping into the chair across from Roman and ignoring the way he let out a sigh as he averted his gaze.

The two of them were friendly now—banter was easy and they were able to discuss things without it heating up to an argument every time—but there was still a layer of hesitancy when it came to being vulnerable. It wasn't just Roman either. Virgil had more than once entirely played off his anxiety or insecurities so that he could go deal with it himself or, if it got too bad, go bother Logan or Patton with it. It was stupid because they were friends and logically, he knew there was nothing to worry about. Even still, he was afraid. And he had a feeling Roman felt the same way.

"Do you want a hot chocolate?"

Roman blinked at him. "What?"

"I said, do you want a hot chocolate?" Virgil repeated, getting up from his chair. He threw open a few of the kitchen cabinets, rifling through it to grab the chocolate. "I mean, mine are nowhere near as good as Patton's—I really don't know how he does that—but they're still okay, you know?"

He glanced back at Roman to see him staring at him blankly and raised an eyebrow, prompting Roman to clear his throat.

"Uh, I mean, if you want to."

Virgil nodded, switching on the element and grabbing out a saucepan and milk, not bothering to measure any particular amount as he poured it into the pot.

"So... you wanna tell me what's going on?" Virgil asked, keeping his back firmly to Roman.

It's what he'd want, he thinks, to know that someone's listening without the pressure of having them stare you directly in the face—like, he loves Patton, but sometimes that earnest gaze can be a bit overwhelming.

"I promise, it's nothing. I'm just a bit tired-"

"Roman."

There's a long silence and if Virgil hadn't been listening intently for any sound, he would have thought that Roman had just up and left.

Then, there was a shaky inhale from behind him, let out all at once. "I'm... overwhelmed."

Roman paused, seemingly gathering his thoughts and as he did so, Virgil grabbed a rubber spatula from the jar on the counter, stirring the milk. He wasn't actually sure if it was necessary but it was something to do with his hands that wasn't simply wringing them or biting at the nails.

"Our fans expect a lot from us, you know? And the production value keeps getting bigger and we keep coming up with these new ideas but if we don't execute them perfectly it's going to seem like it was ridiculous for us to even try. And there's deadlines and short videos to keep up with and-" He heaved out a sigh. "There's just so much to do."

"There's always so much to do," Virgil interjected, breaking the chocolate into the boiling milk, "I think that's what life is."

Roman laughed but it wasn't particularly joyful, almost more like a sob than a laugh. "Maybe. I don't know. I just... I want everything to go perfectly but I know that's impossible."

There was something in that statement, some underlying insecurity that Virgil couldn't help but pull apart. With all his years being the literal embodiment of a person’s deepest fears, he’d become fairly well versed in feelings of inadequacy and leaving them alone to fester certainly wasn’t gonna do Roman any good.

"You're right. It is impossible," Virgil replied casually, "But why exactly do you think it needs to be perfect?"

"So that people will like it! People need to like-"

"You." Virgil switched off the element, turning around to look at Roman with something soft and sad in his eyes. "Is that right? You think that if the work we produce isn't perfect, if you don't make things that people love then you can't be loved."

Roman stared wide-eyed at Virgil, lips parted ever so slightly. "I- I just-"

And with a sob, he broke off, face crumpling as he failed to hold in his tears. Virgil winced, suddenly flooded with need to shield Roman from anything that could make him look so devastated.

"Roman, come here."

He opened himself up for a hug and Roman dove forward, gripping at Virgil's hoodie and shaking in his arms as they wrapped around him.

"We love you," Virgil spoke insistently but quiet, as if were he to speak any louder something inside him would break, "We will love you the same if you never create another thing ever again or if you create something new every day for the rest of your life. You don't need to do anything to be loved. You're here. That's enough."

Roman nodded into his shoulder. "I- I know that. I do. And you all keep telling me that's it's fine but-"

"I get it. It's hard. It took me a while to accept that you all love me too, you know? But you'll get there. And we'll be happy to remind you of it any time you need."

Virgil pulled away from the hug, leaving Roman blinking at the ground with still watery eyes. He seemed... more solid, somehow—less like he would shatter if Virgil looked at him wrong—and the relief he felt at that was almost palpable.

"And, Ro?" Virgil asked, prompting Roman to drag his gaze back up to him, "Yeah, the stuff you create may not be perfect but I haven't seen a single thing you accomplished that you haven't done a pretty fucking great job of."

Roman smiled—slight but real and filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Virgil."

"Anytime, princey."

Virgil turned to grab a few mugs from the hooks under the cabinet, placing them on the counter. A quick test of the milk revealed it to be plenty warm still and with a great deal of care, Virgil poured the hot chocolate into the cups, having apparently made more than enough for just the two of them.

The silence as Virgil moved wasn't uncomfortable—much more akin to the kind of silence you expect from two people alone in the kitchen at the early hours of the morning—and Virgil was immeasurably glad for it.

Eventually, he passed one of the mugs over to Roman. He hadn’t really put much thought into which ones he’d grabbed but he noticed now that it was one of Roman’s personal ones and written on it, in curling font, read the words, “Imagine. Create. Repeat.”. Virgil tried not to find the irony in that.

"So, uh, how about we finish this hot chocolate and then we head back to bed, yeah?" Virgil asked, picking up his own mug from the counter and taking a sip.

Roman didn't react for a moment except to rotate the mug he gripped tightly in his hands, holding it up by his face so the steam still coming off it warmed his cheeks. Then, he nodded, a smile barely turning the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah. Yeah, Virge, that sounds great."

Taglist: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @autism-goblin @camcam774 @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @hold-my-hat @goodandbadisallmadeupnonsense @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples @sanders-screams @another-sandersidesblog @do-not-just-see-observe @mychemicalpanicattheemo @primaryyblogg @localtransgrape​ @fandomsofrandom​ @gattonero17​ @airiervessel​ @ollyollyoxinfree​ @tired-and-probably-crying​ .

[notveryglittery]

birthday prince (3)

summary: virgil decides roman deserves a day off.  words: 2,100 / ship: prinxiety (roman/virgil) author’s note: this is part three of my Giving The Gay Anything He Wants series for roman’s birthday (june 4)! all ships are written implied romantic but i’m not stopping you from interpreting it otherwise. check the end notes on ao3 for credit on these gifts (bc i don’t know where to put them in this post)! i hope you enjoy!!

part 1 (roceit) | part 2 (logince) | part 3 (prinxiety) part 4 (royality) | part 5 (dlampts)  read on ao3

— — —

“Best two out of three.”

“I thought this was a birthday gift!”

“Yes and?”

“So why don’t I automatically get to pick the first movie?”

“Because I know you’re on a princess kick and full offense, if I have to deal with a talking animal as the comedic relief sidekick, I might actually die.”

“... Okay. Fine, okay, that’s fair.”

“On shoot.”

One, two, three, shoot — Virgil’s scissors versus Roman’s paper meant that the birthday boy did, in fact, not get to pick the first movie. He feigned upset for only a few moments longer before flopping back into their pillow fort. He supposed, given all the hard work Virgil had put into this, he could put up with one non-princess Disney film.

Earlier in the day, Virgil had rather unceremoniously kicked Roman out of his own room, claiming he had something important to do. Were it not for how close they’d grown, Roman would have been upset and suspicious; he trusted Virgil now, though, and knew that nothing would go wrong. He’d spent an hour playing cards with Logan and Patton before Virgil shouted for him from upstairs. When he’d arrived back to his room, it looked almost unrecognizable. It was mostly illuminated by fairy lights, providing a cozier feel than what he was used to; the floor to ceiling windows looked out into a rainy forest instead of the usual rolling hills; his bed had been turned into a truly impressive collection of blankets, pillows, cushions, and stuffed animals. The canopy had been removed which bothered him a little but only until he realized the projector that had been set up, pointing at the ceiling. There was a basket at the foot of the bed, filled with snacks and bottled drinks. Roman figured they could stay here for the next twenty four hours and be perfectly fine.

Surrounded by what was possibly every soft thing to be found in the Mindscape, Roman clutched Mrs. Fluffybottom to his chest as Virgil got the movie set up. She’d been his favorite plushie for the entirety of his existence; he’d taken her on many adventures over the years but she’d comforted him through a number of breakdowns too. He swore there was actually something magical about her.

Virgil threw himself down next to Roman; he had swapped out his usual hoodie for one that was fully dark purple and had even longer sleeves. After Roman had stopped gawking around his room, Virgil had tossed a sweater at him. It was so bright it was practically neon but it was rainbow print and he loved it. He’d immediately changed out of his t-shirt and had grabbed Virgil in a tight hug. Roman definitely intended on starting a sweater paw fight at some point during their movie marathon.

“You good with Hercules?”

“No comedic relief sidekicks, huh?”

“Phil is not a sidekick!”

“What? Are you trying to tell me right now that Philoctetes is a main character? You can’t say he isn’t comedic relief! He gets hurt just for laughs way too often!”

“No! I mean. Maybe?”

Roman laughed, bumping his shoulder against Virgil’s. “Whatever, you dork. Of course I’m good with it. You could have picked The Black Cauldron and I would’ve been good.”

“Talking animal. Comic relief. Sidekick. Gurgi checks all of those boxes. I would’ve been going against my own word.”

“Hmm, fair,” Roman said, humming a little.

As the Muses began singing them through the opening, Roman took a moment to appreciate everything Virgil was doing for him. The basket of goodies was stocked with every one of Roman’s favorite snacks, including enough chocolate to make him sick. In fact, it’d been the first thing he’d decided on, before Virgil could even tell him what the plan for the day was. Not that it was really much of a plan, anyway. Today specifically had been set aside just for Virgil to spoil Roman however he wanted. That apparently meant marathoning Disney movies, napping as much as they pleased, and eating all the junk food they wanted. It was a far cry from how Roman usually spent his time; what with all of the projects he was constantly juggling, or the content he had to help Thomas produce, or the issues to take care of in the Fantasy Realm. He didn’t really realize even how hard he was always working.

Apparently, however, Virgil had.

Something was shoved into his face, startling him out of his thoughts. He shot a glare at Virgil, who was watching the movie and acting totally inconspicuous. The item turned out to be a stuffed dragon, one he didn’t recognize from his usual pile of plushies. The scales were shimmery, a nice ombre of purple and blue shades, the wings were tucked against the body, and… Holding his hand against the stomach was warmer than the rest, as if it had a belly full of fire. That was so cool! He squeezed it tight in his arms and went back to watching the movie, feeling even comfier than before.

With the credits rolling, Virgil ushered them both out of bed and into a couple minutes of stretching.

“I’m not having you complain to me later on when your bones start creaking.”

“You make it sound like I’m so old, Virgil!”

“Older than me,” Virgil teased. He ducked out of the way of a thrown cushion. “Oh, is that what we’re doing?!”

Roman took a face full of pillow and suddenly it was on. He couldn’t begin to guess how long they fought for, darting around the room and over the bed, swinging their feather-filled weapons at each other. He did know that by the time he collapsed on the floor, he was breathless with laughter. Virgil was so far gone that he’d dissolved into alternating between wheezes and complete silence. Eventually, they did manage to get back into their nest of blankets, though there was plenty of shoving, poking, and tickling as they did so.

“I dunno if I’ll make it through this next movie so pick one that I won’t mind falling asleep during.”

“You besmirch the name of Disney if you think there’s a single film boring enough to allow that!”

“You dozed off the first time we watched The Good Dinosaur.”

Roman spluttered. “I had just come back from a week-long quest! And that’s Pixar!”

Virgil actually cackled. “You can’t pull that excuse! Disney owns Pixar!”

“Stop bullying me,” Roman cried, “it’s my birthday!”

“It’s two days before your birthday, actually, so I can bully you all I like.”

“I’m picking The Black Cauldron, then! See how you like dozing off during your favorite movie.”

It perhaps hadn’t been his best choice. With Virgil snuggled into his side, warm and soft, the sound of his even breathing accompanying the utter lack of any songs… Well, Roman really didn’t last much longer. They found each other in the Dreamscape. Edges were fuzzy, sounds were muffled, and touch was electric. The Dream Palace was a blurry shape in the distance, attracting his attention every so often when its crystal spires caught the light. Virgil sort of just appeared, as if created from the colors of the setting sun. Roman had a feeling he was made of the field of flowers he’d woken up in.

“I like it here,” Virgil said, sitting down next to Roman.

“Remy does a nice job with it,” Roman agreed, slowly picking daisies and dandelions to weave into a crown.

“You do, too,” Virgil argued. “You have a hand in almost everything, you know.”

Roman frowned at him. “I do not.”

“Yes, Ro,” Virgil insisted, “you do. The Memory Archives look the way that they do because you and Logan watched one episode of Doctor Who together and had the inspiration to redesign.”

Roman chuckled, a little nervously. “I guess.”

“Memory Lane doesn’t hurt Patton because it knows better than to hurt anyone you love. It might be connected to him and his room, but you’re the one that created that safety net.”

“Virgil…” Roman tried, voice slightly strangled.

“I just need you to know how important you are. You aren’t told enough.”

“It’s fine—”

“You’re important, Roman. You matter. You make a difference.”

Roman finally stopped trying to tie together the stems of the flowers. Virgil took his shaking hands into his own and held them tightly. It was just enough that Roman could actually feel it versus the tingly sensation that the Dreamscape normally worked with.

“We love you. We appreciate you and your hard work.”

If it weren’t for that everything around them was already blurry, Roman might not have noticed his vision swimming when tears filled his eyes. It was hard to not know suddenly that he was crying, though, regardless of how physically present he was in this space.

Virgil let go of his hands and instead, cradled his face gently. “I know I go against you sometimes but in the long run, I want you to be just as happy as you make the rest of us.”

He waited a moment longer before smiling and squishing Roman’s cheeks. Roman giggled a bit in response. Virgil gave him two careful pats before pulling away. Picking up the flower crown Roman had abandoned, he set to work on finishing it. Roman wiped his tears away and sat still in the sunshine, content to simply let himself soak it up until he was completely warm from the inside out.

When they woke, the screen projected onto the ceiling was displaying a screensaver of 3D pipes. The forest outside the windows had been replaced with a cliffside view of the ocean. Virgil stirred next to him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He absentmindedly pressed a kiss to Roman’s cheek before getting out of bed. He was gone for a little while, during which Roman found two more plushies that he didn’t recognize. They were a gryphon and a lion, both extremely soft to the touch, and with fierce expressions that reminded Roman of how Virgil looked when he was in fight mode. He wondered how these new stuffed animals kept sneaking into his collection but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

When Virgil returned, Roman burst into laughter, because yes, he supposed there was no chance of sneaking that one into the pile.

“There won’t be any room for me in bed, Virgil!”

“Guess you better get used to sleeping on the floor then,” Virgil said, dropping the massive Simba plushie on top of Roman.

This just made Roman laugh harder. The fabric on this one was fluffier than on the others, something he could sink his fingers into if he wanted. It was nearly as big as him, or maybe it just felt like that right now since it was smothering him. Before he could move it, though, Virgil sank himself down onto it as well.

“Virgil!!” Roman gasped between snickers. “Get off, you fiend!”

“Hmm…” Virgil hummed, pondering. From where he was laying, he could just barely look directly into Roman’s eyes. This made it all the funnier when he finally decided, in the most deadpan tone, “nah.”

After some wrestling, which led to them both falling out of bed and Roman bumping his elbow and howling for five minutes about his funny bone before Virgil kissed it better, they were finally settled back in to continue their movie marathon.

They watched Moana, Tarzan, and, Mary Poppins before sleep began to take them once more. Seeing as the sun had sunk below the sea quite some time ago, it was safe to assume it was late enough to call it a night.

“I got you…” Virgil paused to yawn. “Got you one more thing…”

“Vee—”

“‘S not much.” He held out Mrs. Fluffybottom for Roman to take. “I just… I made it so that she can never be hurt.”

For a moment, Roman’s lethargy was chased away by astonishment and surprise. He could feel the enchantment just from holding her, though it was passing by the second as the magic was fully absorbed.

“I know you… take her on adventures a lot. Fightin’ bad guys ‘n stuff.” Virgil shifted further into the blankets as sleep continued to take hold on him. “Wanna keep her safe. Know you will, anyway. But jus’ in case.”

Roman rolled onto his side so that he was facing Virgil. He kept the bunny plush tucked between them and took one of Virgil’s hands in his. “Thank you…”

“Love you. Happy birthday, princey,” Virgil told him, papping him once more on the cheek.

Sleep settled over them quickly after. Roman would wake in the morning, feeling more secure and warm than he had in quite some time, surrounded by plushies and Virgil’s arms, and know that he had so much to be grateful for.

[anxiouslyfred]

Blackberry Delivery Service

Summary: Where soulmates get plants that reflect what is done to each of them at unpredictable time of their lives, schools teach it’s about maturity. Virgil has known this is wrong since he got his plant at the young age of 8.

Remus never learns this before the night everything goes wrong gets followed by a day out of Roman’s daydreams.

/\/\

Nobody had figured out yet how the delivery service worked. There were classes in schools covering the history of soulmates and the plants connected to them which could go over how when people roamed the lands or lived in small villages and tribes they'd be drawn to the plants when they were ready for it. That still happened in a lot of the indigenous cultures, where spending time among nature was a larger part of their way of life.

For the people in cities though a delivery service had opened with the advent of a postal service. When a person became ready to care for their plant it would be delivered at a time they were alone at home and then the van would disappear for somewhere else. No base was known of for the Soulmate plants delivery, nor any greenhouses and plenty of legends surrounded the vans but nothing could get confirmed.

Virgil had read everything he could about them regardless. Originally it was dreaming that he'd get his plant one day and learn how he can find his soulmate with it. Receiving it when he was just 8 years old had grown the interest into the reasons people claimed they got their plants.

What schools taught was that if you are mature enough to care for someone, or something, living other than yourself and put their needs on the same level as your own then the plant would be delivered. The forums and multitudes of orphanages and care homes gave out different lessons, leaflets filled with personal stories about people getting their plant so they had something to look forward to, a reassurance there was somebody out their for them.

That was why Virgil received his plant. His parents had busy jobs and rarely spared a thought for their son, so long as he was fed, clean and his clothes were the good quality expected of reasonably wealthy parents. He'd gotten lonely and used to being ignored, or a second thought to everyone but the blackberry bust he received was a promise that wouldn't continue forever.

And that was how he continued on, looking after the plant and trying its best to help it grow. The thorns were longer than a normal blackberry bush and grew in a higher number but the berries were a wonderful balanced of sweet and tangy. It was soon Virgil's favourite treat, as long as the berries came from his soulmate plant. If only he could tell his soulmate was looking after theirs as well, but nothing changed except what Virgil did to the plant.

/Years Later for Remus\

It had taken far too long for Remus to save up the money for his own flat. Still, 10 times fired is 20 people he knows can't accept who he is, and he could finally move out from Roman's apartment.

He'd thought there could be a celebration, him and his brother having a game night or something to mark the achievement. Sure Remus would have liked to do more than that, go to a bar, or maybe bowling and see how many innuendos and dirty jokes he could make around it, but with Roman back in rehearsals a night in, getting him settled into the flat would have been nice.

Instead they argued, Remus hurt over the dismissal Roman gave. “I can't just fritter away hours with you. This could be a big break for me if it gets the presses attention so I have to be responsible for my time.”

“It's one night, Ro. One night to get that stick out of your arse, loosen up and just be silly again. Fuck, we could find an adventure on a hike and play dragons and princes again like we used to. Toast the fact I'm making it on my own now.” Remus had pleaded, just needing something to mark the change.

“Yeah and then in a month, possibly two, you'll be asking for an adventure or night out to celebrate you moving straight back in.” Roman scoffed, dismissing the idea and Remus's long standing dream of independence in one sentence.

Remus had slammed the door to his flat open then. He'd made the offer when they finished moving all his stuff over to the apartment and there was something darkly satisfying that he could now actually kick Roman out now. “Fuck you, Get the hell out of here! You've watched how fucking hard I've worked to get this and now you think I'm going to throw it all away for what?” He made no attempt to keep his voice down, too hurt and angry to care.

“Yeah, cause you're so mature. You haven't even received a plant to look after yet.” Roman had started to protest but as soon as Remus's missing plant was mentioned he was getting manhandled out of the door.

“I'm blocking you everywhere. I fucking trusted you!” Remus screamed, throwing cushions from the sofa at the door as soon as he'd slammed it shut, locking it behind Roman.

Remus had tried. He'd done everything he could think of to be mature enough to get that soulmate plant, but it still hadn't been delivered. Every day he hoped that perhaps finally it would come; that whatever spirits created and delivered the plants would finally realise he was ready for the soulmate plant.

He'd even kept a garden on the balcony at Roman's house. That was Remus's space and he'd kept it alive, thriving even. Every plant he'd had there had now found a place on window sills around the apartment, as specified to their requirements as Remus could manage.

For Roman to have thrown his missing soulmate plant back at him was too far, and his brother should have known that. It had turned the first night in his apartment which Remus had been so excited to finally afford from being a celebration to one of near destruction.

Remus had agreed with fix and redecorate the apartment for a reduced rent so he decided to move the screaming in his brain to chipping the cracked tiling away from the walls of the bathroom. The landlord had offered it when learning he was a joiner after his most recent building course. With every strike he wished it was a stem he could yank away from Roman's lavender bush, make him realise just how it felt to be missing something everyone insisted was important.

Mud, plants and carpentry could only get Remus so far until he was collapsing onto his new bed, and the tears came.

A new home, but an even lonelier life than before now he couldn't face the last person to try and stick with him again.

/A New Day Comes\

Remus thought the knock on his door must be Roman, trying to apologise or just explain himself. There were always more explanations from Roman than spoken apologies. The apology was shown in his behaviour and the time he cut himself off.

He definitely didn't expect the knock to be a blackberry bush and a van driving out of sight.

An apartment with no balcony or attached garden was probably the worst possible place Remus could try to grow blackberries, but he didn't have much choice, not over what his soulmate plant was, or where it could grow. There was at least a large window in his bedroom that he could find space for it in.

Remus gave it a small smile as he carried it through, leaving it at the foot of his bed for a moment. “Well I guess you were finally ready to come to me then. You just wait here while I shift some of your new friends around to give you a nice spot to rest in.” He says, stroking the leaves lightly before turning away.

“This isn't the ideal space for you, I know, but it's what I have and what's mine is yours, Buddy. Well for you and all my other plant friends of course. I don't care if your connected to my soulmate, these guys get all my love just as much as you do.” Remus was rambling, still mostly talking to the blackberry bush but nuzzling into the other plants he had as they were moved, some closer together and a couple taken to one of the other windowsills.

“I'm no more mature than I was yesterday so it seems like the teachers were just saying more bullshit to us all. Wonder why you're actually here though. Unless it's because I'm completely alone in the world now, and this is all just a complete scam. What makes me being completely alone the trigger when Roman got his years ago after a night moping that he's never be someone's hero?” They'd still been living with their parents when that happened, but now Remus was focused on being lied to by schools.

He shook his head, moving the bush to the new spot. “Maybe I should have tried mixing those chemicals in science labs given everything else they've lied over. I bet it wouldn't have caused anything fun to happen anyway. Now Buddy, you need a frame or some support to hook onto and then I want to start checking online if there are any people around caring for blackberry bushes. If my soulmate already has you then I'm gonna be telling them off for not caring for you properly. Lack of gardening knowledge does not mean you're unable to research a singular plant.”

Remus fell to humming as he started rooting through the boxes that hadn't yet been unpacked for his gardening supplies. He'd need to trim the bush a bit and get it tied onto a frame. There was plenty of time before he had work to get that done.

/Over to Virgil\

After growing up with his blackberry bush, Virgil never expected anything to change with it. He wasn't sure if that was because his soulmate was content to let him look after it or if they just hadn't received their plant yet.

This morning was proving they probably hadn't received it until now and were very knowledgable about how to look after their plants. Virgil had watched as the canes were cut, thorns trimmed away in the busier areas of the bush and then as a frame appeared in the pot, stalks being tied to it from the bottom upwards.

It had been a relaxing if confusing scene to watch but Virgil hadn't wanted to look away. There was evidence he had a soulmate and apparently one who's a very avid gardener.

Part of him wanted to cheer, to dance around his home screaming for joy. He had a soulmate out there, and now their plants were more identifiable than the wild growth that was all Virgil understood enough to achieve. There was a chance he could one day find someone who wouldn't just be talking to him for his family name, or in the hopes of getting a higher role in his mother's business.

It just made Virgil want to go out and start actually trying to find whomever they were, but what if they were annoyed that he hadn't taken better care of their plant? What if they had their life all put together and only cared about the plant because soulmates were meant to be important to them and he'd just disappoint them?

There were hundreds of what if questions that Virgil was now coming up with, stilling his hands as he went to search the 'match my plant' websites there were.

Instead he just double checked his Blackberry bush was watered enough and drew a V in the soil, washing his hands before finally heading into the restaurant his parents wanted checking on today. They'd decided Virgil should have a role as site inspector for the restaurants while they were refurbished or put together for a new site opening at some point and Virgil didn't mind the role. It gave him the chance to meet normal people in the builders, electricians and other skilled jobs as well as avoid special treatment from the restaurants staff since most of the time they'd never meet him officially.

Today the site was having fitted counters installed as well as the tables secured for the private booths. Virgil would really just be checking everything looked right and hoping to avoid chatting to the joiner for too long.

“Hey there, Are you the boss man for the site?” There was a man in fluorescent overalls trying to peer through the windows of the restaurant, knocking on them as Virgil walked up to it.

Most of the builders had been given the morning off so they didn't get in the way but the actions of the man had Virgil checking the time and realising he'd set off late after watching his plant get looked after. “Yep, that's me. Sorry I ran a little late. It seems like my soulmate has gotten their plant and was doing a lot of gardening for it this morning. I got distracted watching it.” The explanation was far more than the joiner needed to know, but it felt deserved given Virgil was late.

“Cool thing, Patches. I got mine this morning too. Must be a busy day for the delivery guys. You planning on letting us in or should I break a window and replace it on my way out?” The man had walked back to the van that was parked on the pavement in front of the restaurant as he spoke, but leaned back to wink at Virgil when he suggested the vandalism.

Virgil shook his head, snorting a little at the idea. It didn't seem serious so he wasn't going to treat it as such. “First, I'm gonna need to see some ID, preferably your traders license. Can't just trust people who ask if I run the building without introducing themselves at all.” He did pull the keys out of his pocket though, waiting beside the door as the other bounced back over.

“Well, I'm Remus, here's my card, call me whenever for whatever cause a body like yours I ain't gonna refuse.” Remus definitely checked Virgil out as he spoke but still handed over his license, a business card behind it that Virgil pocketed.

Unlocking the door, he shook his head again. “I'm Virgil and will need to call the company doing the rest of this place to complain about the state they've left it in. Sorry it seems to be chaos. I did order them to leave it clear yesterday but apparently my instructions were ignored.”

Remus didn't seem to care, already carrying various boards and his toolkit, just making large steps over any equipment or items left in his way. “I got a blackberry bush this morning. You said you thought your soulmate had got theirs today too so what's yours?”

“Oh, yeah, same. It's blackberries too. I've been scared that I'll hurt it if I do anything though so have mostly left it to grow its own way once I got a mini greenhouse to look after it in.” Virgil agreed, pulling his phone out, and falling into mumbles over how to make the call.

It was only moments later when Virgil looked up to actually double check the number, ever doubting his phone had saved it correctly, that he realised Remus had frozen and started watching him, large siding board still balanced on his shoulder. “Did I say something wrong? Is there something I need to raise as a big issue to like health and safety that I've missed?” He asked.

Remus bounced between his feet for a moment, almost falling before he remembered the siding and leant it against the wall. “No Dude, but like, does your plant look something like this now?” He pulled his phone out while speaking, flicking through a few screens before showing a picture of Virgil's blackberry bush, except it was surrounded by dozens of other plants on a windowsill that was in dire need of fresh paint and probably new frames all together.

“That's – That is my plant! Even down to the frame that appeared!” Virgil exclaimed, almost snatching the phone away to look closer at the picture. “I watched everything getting trimmed and tied onto the frame this morning.” He muttered, all thoughts of scolding the builders leaving his mind in the moment.

“So you're my soulmate then?” Remus asked after a minute of waiting for that connection to be made.

Virgil didn't think his eyes could get any wider or that he could be any more shocked than he already was, but that sentence would have managed it. “Well, must be, this is my plant so yeah.” He nodded frantically through the explanation.

He was a bit confused when Remus's expression darkened to a scowl. “This entire soulmate thing is fucked up. Nothing against you but is this stupid damnable universe telling me I had to go through losing or falling out with everyone I know only to get my plant and meet my soulmate on the same fucking day? It's ridiculous and stupid. If it wanted to pull this fairytale bullshit with anyone it should have been with Roman. This feels like he's fucking writing the story of my day just to spite me after throwing everything I've been trying to do back in my face yesterday.” The rant had Virgil backing away a little, sitting down on one of the benches as Remus carried on.

“I did every fucking thing I could to be whatever stupid ideal of mature this world wants before letting people have their plants for years! I scraped through course after course, job after job just trying to find one which I could make a career out of, earn enough to get even a ratty apartment I need to fix up for the landlord and then have the universe fucking telling me to speed run the entire process. Not just, hey Remus, you can finally have the soulmate plant to look after since you've been looking after your hundred plant babies so well, but hey Remus, you brother is a fucking bastard so you're all alone but here's a plant and hey, here's your entire fucking soulmate too.” Remus was screaming at the walls, the ceiling, anywhere that wasn't Virgil, looking like he was two steps from destroying the next thing he looked at closer to ground level.

Virgil usually felt panicked by watching displays of anger like this in real people. He'd usually do everything he can to get out of that situation but instead he just listened and waited, learning more from the rant than he'd expected to.

The yelling must have been audible from outside or something because there was soon a knock on the window of the restaurant, although Remus didn't seem to hear it. He did notice when Virgil stood though, falling quiet to watch him as though expecting him to say something.

With a gesture to the door Virgil went to open it, only to blink as someone almost identical to Remus stood on the opposite side, holding what he guessed might have been a peppermint plant. “Hi, um, sorry if I can't do this, but Remus hasn't been answering my calls and had mentioned doing some work here today. Is he still around?” The man asked, shifting to try and see further into the store.

“Who are you, first? And what's with the plant?” Virgil held a hand up to keep them outside, raising an eyebrow at their discomfort.

“His brother, Roman. I said something I really shouldn't have and have come to beg for forgiveness. The plant is part of my apology.” With that explanation, especially following the rant he'd just heard Virgil held one finger up before shutting the door in his face.

Remus seemed to have started getting his work tools out now his rant had been cut off when Virgil sat down again. “So that was some rant you had there and given I've had my blackberry bush since I was 8, I might be able to explain what actually seems to be the time the plants come to us. Before that though, are you going to start screaming again if I say there's someone at the door holding a plant and asking if you're here so they can beg for forgiveness?” He explained, watching as Remus turned to him and then deflated.

“He literally said I wouldn't last more than a couple months in my new apartment before having to live with him again, threw the fact I hadn't got my plant yet in my face last night and is now trying to apologise with a fucking plant?” Remus muttered, but sighed as he stood up.

Roman was let in silently and he seemed to watch Remus as if expecting something to be said first. Remus was watching his brother just as carefully, before glancing over to Virgil.

“Seriously. Are we sure the universe hasn't stolen one of Roman's stories and decided to dump me into it?” He asked, taking the peppermint from Roman and placing it in front of the window.

“I have literally known Roman for all of 2 seconds so have no clue what those stories might be like to say.” Virgil pointed out, knowing his expression was probably reflecting how crazy he found the question to be.

Remus rolled his eye, “I see no prostrating yourself on the floor to beg for forgiveness. This apology so far sucks worse than Mrs PeePee's apple sorbet.” He glanced over to Roman who was looking between them confused.

“Yes, of course dear Brother, except there isn't exactly space on the floor for that to be possible. I spoke entirely out of turn yesterday and should have never even considered speaking to you the way I have done. You have my deepest apologies and I swear that I will do everything I can to help make it up to you. In fact I would be honoured if tonight you'd accompany to the indoor mini golf course that's opening on the edge of town. It's rainforest themed and I hear rumours they've included a swamp area.” Roman bowed as he was speaking, actually glancing around to see if it was safe for him to kneel.

Virgil couldn't help snickering at it though, and Remus was soon to join in the laughter. “Let's all go actually. I need to know if this idiot is entertaining beyond cheap jokes and loud rants to tell the universe off.” Virgil agreed, before glancing at the sideboard and the time. There was still a couple of hours before the rest of the builders should arrive, hopefully enough time for Remus to do some of the work he was actually here for.

“Sure, you're forgiven and I think the universe has done pretty much everything I would have asked you to do or try to do already.” Remus agreed, jumping over a few things back to where he would be fitting the counters. “By the way, this is my soulmate and I got a blackberry bush this morning. Only figured that it was the same as his like 10 minutes before you got here.”

“Was that what the screaming was about? I thought someone was injured?” Roman asked, moving to the bench when Virgil shrugged and patted it.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, Remus has a few things to say to whatever does soulmates about how today has gone for him. Not sure the universe listens to people screaming in restaurants-to-be though.”

Eventually Virgil would get Roman to share one of the stories Remus had kept referencing and had to agree: The day they met really did seem to come out of Roman's imagination.

[swordladywritesthings]

Hi! Can I have a Virgil-34 please? Bonus points if he's not leaving of his own accord and whoever he's addressing responds with a mix laughing and crying. 💜

So This Is Goodbye?

prompt: “will you miss me at all?”

pairing: prinxiety

Words: 1630

TWs: crying, arguing, kissing, slight homophobia, basically this is a breakup fic

AN: ok on one hand i loved doing this request, thank you for sending it in! on the other hand, goddamn this hurt to write. literally i had to message my partner to make sure they still love because it was messing with my emotions so much (they do don’t worry)

 There was a rapping at the heavy wooden door, and the prince instantly stopped pacing. He pushed back his shoulders and raised his chin as he called out to the person on the other side. “Come in!” He did his best to keep his voice steady, free of the panic that he felt growing in his chest with every passing minute. He had to stay strong, at least for now. He had a reputation to uphold, after all. 

 Roman breathed deeply in through his nose as the door creaked open. He tensed when it swung the rest of the way open, expecting the worst. Instead, he met eyes with the best possible outcome.  

Virgil slowly closed the door as he walked into Roman’s room, a hand lingering on it for a moment after it was shut. He faced the rough wood, praying to every god he knew for enough strength to say the words he needed to say.  

Roman broke the silence after a moment. “Virgil, my dear, what happened? What did he say to you?”  

Scrunching his eyes shut for a moment, he shoved as realistic a smile as he could manage onto his face and turned to face the prince, who was standing expectantly in the middle of the room. 

 “Heya, Princey,” he said, using every ounce of strength in him to keep his tone light and casual. He walked over to Roman confidently, sliding his muscular arms around his neck and smiling down at him. “Did you miss me while I was gone?”

  Roman huffed and gave an affectionate eye roll. “You were barely gone ten minutes,” he retorted, but reached up to kiss him anyway. 

  He could tell something was wrong the moment that their lips met. Virgil’s hands, which were resting between his shoulder blades, curled into fists, and he could feel him shaking slightly. Roman broke away from the kiss gently, not missing the flash of desperation that shone in Virgil’s eyes for a moment before being hidden away behind a curtain of fragile normalcy. 

 “Virgil,” Roman spoke softly, using one hand to press against his chest and keep him from bending down to kiss him again. “What’s wrong?”

  “What?” Virgil said, trying for a casual half-smile and not quite succeeding. “Nothing’s wrong, why?”  

“Virgil,” Roman said again, giving him a stern look. “When we entered this relationship we both agreed to no lying. Please, tell me what’s going on?”  

He visibly hesitated for a moment, before he let out a shaky breath and the ruse of normalcy shattered. He hung his head, withdrawing from Roman slightly. “Ro,” he said, this time in a noticeably shakier voice. “When I say this, please try not to be mad at me, okay?”

  Roman furrowed his brow, reaching up to brush his thumb over Virgil’s cheekbone. “Of course not. I could never be mad at you, my brave and loyal knight.”

  Virgil hesitated for another moment before screwing up his face and saying the words all in a rush, like getting them all out at once would make them hurt less. “I’m leaving you.”

  There were several beats of awful, heart-breaking, stunned silence. Then Roman began to laugh. It started as a little giggle, but once he started he found he couldn’t stop. He laughed until his sides hurt, and he let go of Virgil to slide down the wall and sit on the floor. Virgil just watched, frozen, as tears rolled down Roman’s cheeks without the prince even bothering to swipe them away. His laughter slowly morphed into a choked sobbing, a sound of pure heartbreak. Virgil could feel the tears on his own face, but couldn’t care less about wiping them away right now.

  When the last of his giggles faded away, Roman looked up at him, his round green eyes so filled with pain it made Virgil’s heart wrench. 

 “Are you serious? Just like that? We’re not even going to talk about it?” He said, his voice distinctly broken. Virgil said nothing, only shaking his head and sinking down to rest on the floor as well.

  Roman scoffed, but this time it was a sound of dismissal and disbelief. “No, I don’t believe you. There’s something else. What is it, did you fall for someone else? A servant, maybe? That’d be easier, you wouldn’t have to worry about losing your job if you were caught. Or maybe-” 

 “Stop,” Virgil’s voice was hoarse and so quiet Roman could barely hear him. “Roman, stop, please. There’s no one else, I promise. I just…” 

 “You just what?” Roman pleaded, meeting his eyes intensely even as a fresh batch of tears streamed down his face. “Tell me, Virgil. Give me a reason, please.”

  Virgil winced as he looked into Roman’s eyes, trying so hard not to fall apart completely.  “I can’t tell you.”

  Roman’s face took on a look of anger and disbelief. “I cannot believe this. Where did this even come from?” He shouted, using his hands to gesture wildly. “What did I do wrong?”

  “Roman,” he spoke quietly, reaching out to still his hands by taking them in his own. “You did nothing wrong, I promise. This is completely my fault.” 

 The rage on Roman’s face melted away as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only heartbreak. “Will you miss me at all?” He asked, his voice so fragile Virgil was afraid of breathing too harshly in case it broke.

   “Oh Princey,” he whispered, letting go of his hands and cupping his face instead. He swiped his thumb across Roman’s cheek absently, clearing away a tear or two there. Roman leaned into the touch, and Virgil felt his voice catch in this throat. “I’m going to miss you every single day. You’re the love of my life, Roman.”

  At that, Roman broke. He let out a sob, then another. One of his hands flew up to cover his mouth, as if that would keep them from overflowing. Fighting tears of his own, Virgil very gently pulled him forward until his face was tucked against his shoulder, then wrapped his arms around his shoulder, shushing quietly. He rocked back and forth a little as his free hand carded through Roman’s hair, ignoring the teardrops that fell into it. He waited patiently for Roman to collect himself, and when he went to pull away Virgil didn’t stop him. 

  “If you love me,” Roman spoke quietly, his voice hoarse. “Then why? Why are you leaving?”

  “I…” Virgil hesitated, remembering the conversation he had with the king right before coming to Roman’s room. The conversation where the king had greeted him formally, then invited him to sit in his study. He had then told him that he knew about Roman and Virgil’s relationship, and that he couldn’t allow it to continue, something about “maintaining image.” He walked out of that study with orders to be gone by tomorrow, and that if he was caught trying to contact Roman then there would be consequences.

  Virgil’s hesitance was all that Roman needed to put the pieces together. “It was my father, wasn’t it? He’s making you do this?” 

 Virgil nodded, and Roman’s face was once again overtaken by anger. “He can’t do this. We’ll just have to be more careful, or we could just tell him that we’re in love,”

  “Ro,” he interrupted gently. “He said I have to be gone by tomorrow.”

  “Then I’ll go with you,” Roman said, taking Virgil’s hands and squeezing. “I’ll run away with you. My father is so wrapped up in his wife, he’ll barely notice I’m gone.”

  Virgil just shook his head sadly. “You can’t. You’re the crown prince, heir to the throne. You’re meant for more than life as a commoner with a disgraced royal guard.”

  Roman dropped his hands and cupped Virgil’s jaw, rising up onto his knees and kissing him fiercely. “I don’t care,” he said when they paused for breath. “I don’t care about any of that. To hell with my father, I want you. Virgil, I need you. You’re the love of my life, and I won’t accept you leaving.” Virgil opened his mouth to respond, but Roman rushed forward and kissed the words out of his mouth, threading his fingers into his hair. He kissed like a man dying of dehydration drank water, as if it were the only thing keeping him alive, and he needed to get as much as he could before it was gone. 

  Virgil let Roman kiss him for a bit before gently pushing him away with a hand on his chest. “Ro,” he said, a little breathless, “honey, can we please go to bed? It’s been a stressful day, and I just want to sleep.”

  Roman, though he looked a little put out, nodded and stood up, taking Virgil’s hand to help him up too. The two got ready for bed, and soon enough they were snuggled underneath the covers, Roman curled in to press his face against Virgil’s neck. Virgil allowed himself a small smile, and he pulled him closer until there was as little space between them as he could manage. He was about to drift into sleep when he heard Roman speak in a small voice.

  “We’ll figure something out in the morning, okay? I love you. I’ll find a way for us to stay together, I promise.”

  “Okay, sweetheart,” Virgil said, trying his best to keep his voice light and even. “We’ll figure something out then, alright? For now you need sleep. I love you, too. There’s not a single space in my heart that isn’t taken up by you.”

  Roman smiled sleepily. “Okay. I love you too, Vee.” He fell asleep soon after that, warm and safe in Virgil’s arms. 

 Virgil was gone by the time morning came.

TAGLIST

General: @definitely-a-living-human @my-friends-art-and-writing @arodynamic-enby @ari-the-writer-enby @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink @irritating-lady-knight @asexualtrashcan @the17thmeatball @inku-snas-art @fandoms-are-my-world

Prinxiety: @queen-of-tragedy-and-strife @humanbeingiguess

[acrobaticcatfeline]

Date Night

Word Count: 1793

TW: sympathetic Janus and Remus, crying, there's quite a bit of Romangst.

Pairings: minor intruality and sanflorez, logince because what else?

Notes: Sanders Sides’ anniversary is in two days! This is my first ever canonverse fic I’ve ever finished. I love Nico a normal amount. I just want everyone to get along and feel appreciated. This is also the first time I’ve successfully finished a fic in like more than a year so! Hope y'all enjoy!

Summary: Thomas has a date with Nico and everyone wants this to go perfectly.

“Thomas you look terrible you have to fix this!”

“Virgil, I know this is your job but also could you please not???”

Thomas was getting ready for a date with Nico and currently Virgil was floating around his head filling him with enough doubt that he was half ready to just cancel.

“YOU CANT CANCEL!!!”

Virgil's voice boomed enough that not only did Thomas drop his brush, but Patton and Roman popped in. They shared a look at each other, then to Virgil and Thomas, then back to each other. Patton went to Thomas, legs crossed as he floated behind him, hands on his shoulders massaging gently as Roman went to Virgil, the only one choosing to stand as he tried to calm the anxious side.

“Hey kiddo! I know you're nervous, but you got this! Now pick back up that brush and finish up your hair! I know this is gonna be great!”

“But Virgil said I look awful!”

“He's panicking. He wants this to go well as much as the rest of us do. He wasn't trying to discourage you kiddo, he's doing his best”

Thomas took in a deep breath as Roman guided Virgil through a few breathing exercises in the corner of the bathroom.

“One thing you can taste Vee”

“Fear. um, um, the toothpaste Thomas just used”

“Good job Virge. Breathe. Hyperventilating isn't helping anyone”

“Yeah. yeah you're right”

“You're doing great moody gloom. Maybe you should take a break. Tap out for a while”

“But Thomas needs!!!”

“Thomas is overwhelmed, and so are you. Take five emo, we got this”

“... fine. Ok. just, don't let him look bad ok?”

“Wouldn't dream of it”

Virgil sunk out and Roman took in a deep breath as he spun towards Thomas with a grin. He walked over and mussed up his hair a bit, to which Thomas grumbled slightly. Patton giggled as Roman fixed his hair in just the right way. Thomas let a smile slip onto his face as Roman finished it with a satisfied noise.

“Thanks Ro. You're a huge help”

“My pleasure! Now about this outfit…”

They were all in the mind palace again as Thomas went to meet up with Nico. Patton was fixed to the TV, watching through Thomas’ eyes as he drove, with a smile on his face. Virgil was sat nearby as well, but with his headphones on to help him stay calm. Logan was holed up in his room, hiding they assumed, as when they had first met Nico he had short circuited and as Patton recalled to Roman, ‘sat staring at the TV with heart eyes for a good few hours’. Regardless, Logan also had a lot to do with all of this happening, let alone the patreon that had exploded. Janus was sitting on the table with a mug of coffee also watching the TV. His interest was muted as both Roman and Virgil had made it loud and clear that he was unable to interfere in any way. Whether he was planning on listening was debatable. Roman and Remus were however in the kitchen giggling like children and baking.

“He is so cuteeee!!!”

“I agree! Absolutely bootylicious even!!!”

“God he's heavenly. I can't believe we scored a date with him!!! He still liked Thomas after he said he was the one that fell into the trash can!!!”

“I KNOW RIGHT!!! God he's my soulmate, he loves us in all our trash man entirety!!!”

“I figured you would be excited about that”

The two laughed as Roman pulled the goodies out of the oven. Roman was always happy to have the powers of the imagination as he pulled out trays upon trays of baked goods. He and Remus got to work separating them onto separate plates. And Remus quickly let out an exaggerated breath to cool down everything as they stacked them up to bring out to the living room. Remus sat down next to Patton, handing him a cookie with a soft smile that Patton returned excitedly. Patton scooted closer to Remus and leaned his head on his shoulder.

Roman however, took the last plate of cookies and ventured off to Logan's room. He knocked three times and entered, and like he had expected, Logan was curled up on his bed with a genuinely elated smile on his face as he seemed to behave like pearl from Steven Universe as his eyes glazed over and he watched what Thomas was up to. Roman smiled gently at him, gently brushing a stray strand of hair out of Logan's face. Logan blinked then, focusing back on where he was and closed his eyes again as he leaned into Romans hand.

“Hey there rocket man”

“Hey there”

Logan's eyes open and Roman can't help the skip his heart does when Logan looks at him, his face pure happiness; bliss and love plainly evident in his eyes as he looks at him. Roman cant hold himself back from kissing him right there. It's not long, but it doesn't matter because Logan's smile only gets bigger and Roman only falls even more in love with him.

“You know, maybe it's not so bad you've hidden here, I get to keep this beautiful boy in front of me all to myself”

And Logan laughs, and Roman doesn’t know how he was so lucky, so blessed to be loved by the logical side, to get to see him smile so unashamed, to hear his laugh like bells and sunshine, to be able to hold him close and tell him that he is his universe, his stars and moons and planets and nebulae, that he is his everything and know the feeling is mutual. It's like nothing else, and it's only more intense as the fog of emotions weighs over them all. Not that it makes much of a difference in this moment as Logan looks at him yet again and really this is just how he always feels around him, he doesn’t know if he would ever fall out of the pure bliss of love with Logan, he doesn’t think he will ever be able to look at Logan and not feel his chest swell in happiness.

Logan shifts away a bit and Roman lets his hand fall to his side as Logan climbs out from under his blankets and moves closer to Roman, nearly in his lap, leaning against his chest with his arms around him. Roman wraps his arms around his boyfriend and brings him even closer, placing a kiss on the top of his head. He rubs circles into his back and hums contentedly.

“So, I used your Crofters”

Logan pulls back and glares at Roman and Roman has to hold back the chuckle in his throat.

“I see. I don't think you get cuddles anymore-”

As he said that Roman grabbed one of the cookies and hands it to him and Logan's eyes go wide. He looks between the cookie and Roman and that beautiful smile returns as he takes a bite.

“Is cuddle time still over?”

“You can stay, I suppose. Are there more?”

“Of course”

Logan goes back to curling up in his lap when he finishes his cookie. Roman is happy there, with his boyfriend bundled up in his arms, Thomas off on a date with a cute boy as well as the cookies next to him.

“I love you starlight”

Roman is surprised by that. Logan was not one for outright declarations of love, he much preferred to just show it, it was less awkward for him, easier than getting himself to say it out loud. Not to say he never did, Logan was the one to ask him out first. And there's been other occasions since then, but it was rare to hear him say it. So Roman held Logan tighter and smiled wider.

“I love you too princess”

“How do you think Thomas is doing?”

“Good, I think. I think he's gonna be ok”

“I'm scared. I feel like I cant do my job, there's so many feelings all the time”

“I know baby. It'll be ok. I know you'll figure it out. You always do”

Logan stops responding for a while and Roman is ok with that, with sitting in silence. And then he speaks up again.

“This is going to sound dumb, but it feels like when I’m able to be alone with you, but all the time”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… you make me so… happy. It's hard to focus when I'm with you because I just, you’re so much more important. But now it's like that all the time and it's weird. It's weird to feel it at all, let alone at all times of the day. I just, how do you do work like this?”

Roman felt the surge of love again, he makes Logan happy. He makes Logan so happy that it's hard for him to focus. Logan thought he was important. He felt like he could cry.

“I don't know. It's sort of my element, I think I personally work better with the fog. It's a good feeling to encourage creativity. It's hard for me to do my job these days without it. If it was the slightest bit reasonable id do my work here with you”

Logan stiffens and Roman panics a bit.

“You, what do you mean?”

Logan leans back and looks at him.

“I haven't felt my princely self in a good long while. You make me feel happy too lo, I've been stuck without inspiration for ages but I feel like when I’m with you I could write unendingly, like my creativity can thrive”

Logan's eyes widened and he dove back into Romans chest, face red and warm. Roman chuckled lightly.

“I don't deserve you”

“Your insane Lo. You deserve the world and more”

“You're so good to me. You're so good”

“So are you hun”

“No, Roman, you're so good, you know that right?”

Roman stills. He doesn't understand what Logan is talking about.

“What are you on about Lo?”

“You're good. You're a good person, you're good at your job, you're a good boyfriend, none of us say it enough, but Roman you’re so good and we all love you. I love you so much Roman, I'm sorry that I don't say it enough”

Roman stutters. He doesn't know how to respond but he can feel tears falling down his face. He shoves his face into Logan's hair as he feels himself shake from the sobs he feels escaping. 

“Thank you Logan, I love you too, god I love you so much Logan”

Logan leans back again when Roman stops crying with a small smile.

“You wanna watch some Disney?”

“That sounds amazing”

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel @booklover223

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing!!!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

A Supernatural World: Chapter 2

Prev | Next

Summary: Fleeing their hometown of Miami, Florida due to it growing far too dangerous, Roman and his vampire brother Remus move to Detroit, Michigan. Remus hopes it’ll be safer here for his human (or so he thinks he’s human) brother. Roman only wishes to start anew after a traumatizing incident in his last college, hoping to make new friends and maybe even find love. They don’t know what this city or the future holds but it’s going to be quite the adventure as they explore their new surroundings and the…interesting people that live in it.

Pairings: Eventual roceit, Eventual Intrulogical, slowburn roceit, slowburn Intrulogical, romantic roceit, romantic Intrulogical. BROTHERLY CREATIVITWINS (rem/rom shippers fuck off)

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF ABUSE, IMPLIED ABUSE, TOXIC PARENTING, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL HARRASSMENT, IMPLIED SEXUAL HARRASSMENT, POSSIBLE IMPLIED RAPE, SLIGHT BLOOD MENTION, SLIGHT MENTION OF MURDER, MENTIONS OF FOOD POISONING

Taglist: @mychemically-imbalanced-romance

(If anyone else would like to be tagged, let me know!)

________________________________________________________________

Moving to a new apartment after being on the run for so long had been exhausting but they made it and they were a lot safer now. For the first time in a long time, Roman finds himself waking up with little to no worries in his mind. He sits up and yawns, stretching his arms. He takes a deep breath and perks up a little when he smells breakfast in the air. With a rumbling tummy, Roman slips out of bed and ambles out of the bedroom and to the kitchen, finding Remus at the stove and making breakfast. Bacon and eggs sizzle away in the frying pan.

“Morning, Ree. Where’d you get that?” Roman asks, plopping down at the dining table.

“Hey, sleepyhead. I wasn’t going to go grocery shopping until some time later but I figured we could use a good breakfast after all the shit we went through to get here. So, I went out and bought a few things at the convenience store across the street.” Remus replies, plating up the food.

“I do miss having good breakfasts like this.” Roman giggles before making a face. “I don’t think I want to eat more yucky hotel food or disgusting gas station meals.”

Remus huffs a laugh and gives Roman his plate.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“I got food poisoning twice in Alabama and Kentucky.”

“Okay, fair point.” 

Remus shakes his head fondly at the memory of poor Ro throwing up in their motel room. He hadn’t meant to make his twin sick but he couldn’t exactly order anything fancy. He was trying to save up for an apartment. He did feel bad for Ro. His twin had been eager to try KFC when they got to Kentucky. Turns out that the KFC they ordered from was a bit, well, unsanitary. Oh well, at least they don’t have to worry about that now. Remus gets his own plate and sets it on the table before turning to the fridge to get juice for them both.

“So, did you sleep okay? I know I used my magic on you but it can’t always block the nightmares.” Remus says, setting the juice bottle on the counter and moving to get glasses.

Meanwhile, Roman eagerly starts eating. He makes a delighted noise and eats more.

“I did. It feels nice to wake up without worrying if someone broke in or freaking out because you thought the cleaning lady was an intruder.” he grins, taking another bite.

“That’s good. And don’t worry. I’m sure there’s no scary cleaning lady here this time.” Remus chuckles, pouring him and Roman some juice.

Roman giggles and goes back to eating, humming in thanks when Remus gives him his juice.

“I know, Ree. So, what are you going to do?” he asks.

“Well, since everything is mostly unpacked, I’m going to explore around the city and see what’s there to see. Maybe find a job too. We can’t exactly live on our money forever.” 

“True. I’m going to see if I can enroll in theatre after breakfast.” 

“Ooh, good luck with that. I know you’ll kill it out there.

“I know. Promise you won’t kill anyone out there?”

Remus huffs a laugh. 

“Promise, Ro.”

The twins share a laugh and continue talking, Roman eagerly telling Remus all the stuff he’s excited to do again. Roman used to be in theatre in high school but it wasn’t fun. He had constant pressure on his shoulders to be a star performer in their parents’ eyes. He’d spent restless nights rehearsing and practicing under his mother’s command. He’d endure other nights where his mother would reprimand him for even the smallest slip up in his plays or when he didn’t get the lead role she demanded him to get. He’d been forced into diets and dressed uncomfortably to look perfect for his parts. Theatre was ruined for him then and he endured it until high school was over.

Then there was his first year of college. Roman had been happy to have at least a bit of distance between him and his abusive home. He had tried for theatre again in hope it would go well this time. It didn’t. The professor who led the whole theatre crew was a creep along with a few techies. Roman was the poor victim who was constantly targeted, getting groped or hit on whenever he was alone with either a techie or the professor himself. At first, Roman had been clueless, thinking the groping was an accident and the flirting was all in good fun. Then it kept getting worse and worse until one day, the professor and his techies cornered Roman in the dressing room and left him a wreck with his costume torn. 

Remus found out when Roman came home crying and told him. They tried to get justice but the professor and the techies left no proof so their case fell flat and was never opened again. All they could do was leave that college. Of course, their parents didn’t side with them, accusing Roman of ‘asking for it’ and punishing him for ‘selling his body’. That’s when Remus had enough and broke out of the basement he was forced to stay in. He went to Roman and comforted him, telling him they weren’t staying here anymore. After waiting for their parents to leave the house for another drunken night at some bar, the twins packed up and left. Roman hasn’t tried theatre since. The funny thing is, that was only a year ago.

Now, Roman was feeling a bit confident and wanted to try theatre once more. He even wanted to help with costumes and makeup or maybe even make props. He also missed singing on stage so he was excited to do that again. Eager to try out again, Roman eats a little faster. He really wants to enroll and step up on the shiny stage floor again. 

Meanwhile, Remus huffs a laugh, seeing how eager his brother is.

“Easy, Ro. You have plenty of time to sign up for theatre.” he says, patting his twin’s head.

Roman smiles bashfully.

“I know. I’m just so excited, Ree! I miss the stage! Now that we’re free from our parents and those creeps, I feel like I can do theatre again without all these problems!” he exclaims, grinning.

“I know but you can’t do that if you choke on your breakfast.” 

Roman giggles.

“Right. Sorry.”

Roman slows down but keeps eating, babbling about theatre stuff in between while Remus listens along. It’s not long before Roman finishes and puts his dishes in the sink before going back to his room to get his laptop from his bag so he can start enrolling. His eager humming can be heard around the apartment and it makes the atmosphere a little bit more warm and peaceful.

Meanwhile, Remus quickly did the dishes then went to get ready to explore. He cleaned up as best as he could before getting changed into a black t-shirt, grey ripped jeans, combat boots, and a dark green leather jacket. He then returns to the bedroom and finds Roman sitting on his bed, already with his laptop on. Remus chuckles and ruffles his twin’s hair.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out now. Will you be okay with being alone for a bit?” Remus asks, watching for a moment as Roman reads through some search results.

“Yeah! I’ll call you if anything happens and Janus is upstairs too!” Roman beams.

“Good. I’ll be back later, Ro.”

“Kay! Stay safe!”

Remus gives Roman a lazy salute and leaves him to do his college hunting. He grabs his bat and his pocket knife from his backpack along with a pocket flask filled with emergency blood. Then he slips out the door and heads down to the lobby. He waves hello to Jeremiah as he exits the building, Detroit’s cool and smoggy air hitting his face. After making sure no one is around, Remus sneaks around to the back and jumps his way up the apartment building using the fire escapes there. He then climbs onto the roof. Sure, he could have taken the stairs but that wasn’t as fun. Remus takes a deep breath and walks over to the edge, taking in the view and plotting out a path.

Remus sees the bridge and the old freighter. In the distance, he can just make out the edge of Belle Isle in the morning fog. He can see a nearby police station too. Immediately, he makes a note to avoid the station for safety purposes. It takes a few more minutes but he figures out a route through a mostly empty street that leads to a cluster of small businesses and restaurants. Taking a deep breath, Remus turns and runs before leaping over a gap and landing onto the next roof. His speed picks up and he keeps moving, jumping from roof to roof.

To Remus, it always felt thrilling to go on a rooftop run. He liked the feeling of cool air on his skin and the rush he gets when he leaps high into the air. It’s almost like he was flying. He liked watching the cars and buildings rushing by him. He liked being able to explore and see new places, especially the ones with good views or creepy vibes. 

Maybe he’ll explore the burnt down mansion in the outskirts of Detroit some other time. He hears it’s haunted. Maybe he’ll explore that old tech company that shut down and became abandoned due to a lot of bad business incidents. He found some rumors online that the company was going to create an android before it fell apart and shut down. He also heard of an abandoned mansion hidden somewhere in an isolated location of Detroit. He heard rumors of the last owner being a rich CEO who was murdered by his wife and her sister. Others say his remains could be found at the bottom of his dried up indoor pool. 

The thought of it all excited Remus more. It felt nice to be in a new place so once he and Roman were settled in enough, he decided he’ll explore those places in the future. For now, he jumps to another rooftop and pauses to catch his breath. He may be a vampire but not even the undead can run without tiring. Remus decides to hop down from the roof, exiting through an alleyway and slipping wordlessly onto the street. He carefully weaves between some people and hums as he starts walking, passing by a grey haired man and his companion walking a Saint Bernard. 

Remus looks around as he walks. There isn’t much here. There’s a homeless man on the street corner, begging for change or food. There’s a stray cat sniffing at something in the garbage cans by the alleyway. There’s a small convenience store selling party decorations and supplies. Across it is an old bar with a flickering neon sign. A faded ‘Help Wanted’ sign sits in the window, asking for someone to come work as either a cleaner or to work behind the bar. Remus knew he had no skill in working behind the bar but he figured he could try for the cleaner position. Cleaning isn’t usually his thing but he’s willing to try so he can at least make enough money to pay for rent and for any funds Roman may have for theatre. Taking a deep breath, Remus steps inside.

“Oh! Welcome to Jimmy’s Bar! I’m Jimmy!”

[aceofspadegrass]

Dori is in the mood for cosplaying.

So instead of cosplaying ng as pretty princess like last time,

He decided to just cosplay as a normal girl,as he walks through the hallways of the beach,doing his job(spraying Niragi)

Lady in White? Nah, just Fancy in White

Characters: Niragi Suguru, Sakurada Sori

Genre: Fluff. Just some casual crossdressing. And a grumpy lizard.

1.6k words

Sakurada would probably rock a beach dress. He has like.... a picture of him wearing a wig for reasons I have no idea of, but it's there. I find it interesting.

Anyways, I hope you like this! I.... tried to make it fit.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Niragi liked having a full rest after a day and evening full of exhilarating excitement and a little chaos sprinkled into each day however he pleased.

What he didn’t like is waking up to the sound of his unintentional roommate tripping over his own pillow, hitting the floor quite loudly, then apologizing to said pillow like he tripped over his baby.

Which, Niragi had found out from having to share a room with him, was pretty much his baby. Just cylindrical. He’s never seen a man that excited over a body pillow that was simply a black air tube, yet here he was.

“ Can you keep it down, asshat? I’m trying to sleep.” Niragi grumbles, Sakurada quickly bowing and apologizing to him. It was still dark, and Niragi didn’t feel like turning on a light, pulling the blanket back over himself and huffing in annoyance.

There was quiet shuffling around the room, and the other male at least kept the lights off to let him sleep, although whatever he was doing in the dark was suspicious at best. Niragi rolls over, squinting into the darkness as he tried to figure out what the heck Sakurada was even up to. All he saw was his figure, which held a weirdly uncanny similarity to his own, although darkened. “ It’s early, go to sleep.” Niragi mumbles, glaring into the darkness. “ I apologize for waking you, Niragi, but I am merely choosing my outfit for the day!” “ It’s the Beach, your only choice is swimwear. You know you’re pushing it with all this fancy getup, right?” “ You don’t adhere to the rules either, you know.” Sakurada says, Niragi rolling his eyes. 

“ Because the rules are so nobody hides a weapon.” He gestures to his gun, which he lovingly tucked into bed with him. “ And spoilers, I have a gun.”

“ I am very aware of that, but your leader of this place was very kind and let me wear whatever I want because, and I quote, ‘ You look absolutely stunning you french baked potato, and who am I to deny a man of being this nice to look at’.” “ Why the fuck did Hatter call you a baked potato.” Niragi mutters. “ You’re more of a chocolate waffle cake with truffles if anything else.”

“ I’m going to take both as a compliment, even though it is amusing how you both jump to calling me after a food item.” Niragi just rolls back over. “ Whatever. Just be quiet, it’s too early for this shit.” He yawns, and the shuffling began anew, Niragi mentally blocking out the sound as sleep reclaimed his body and mind.

—————————————————————————————————

Morning soon came, Niragi drifting out of his silent unconsciousness and into the chaotic real world. He sits up, stretching his bones and groaning as he did.

“ Good morning!” An all too familiar voice chirps out, and Niragi barely mutters one back, eyelids still firmly draped over his eyes and blocking most of his sight. “ Morning.”  He finally opens his eyes, but pauses as he spots a figure that definitely didn’t look like Sakurada. Said figure was just idly standing there, fixing rather long and wavy dirty blond hair, a simple and loose white beach dress draped over her body…. A bit tall, but nothing that could deter the bastard that is Niragi. He blinks in confusion, but doesn’t falter as he gets up, grinning and approaching the mysterious person from behind.

“ What’s a sexy lady like you doing in my ro-“ Niragi gets cut off again as the figure whips around and spritzes water straight into Niragi’s face, Niragi hissing and backing up. He furiously rubs the water away and glares at the figure, face heating up in embarrassment as he recognizes the facial structure, Sakurada raising an eyebrow at him, donned in a dress and wig. 

“ Bad Niragi.” Sakurada lightly scolds, crossing his arms. A pair of sunglasses rested atop his head, only completing the look. “ I know I look good, but don’t think you’re gonna get away with trying to come onto me again.” He sighs, Niragi grumbling under his breath. 

Stupid weird clone, looking decent in a dress. Niragi leaves him there to do whatever Sakurada was doing with himself to get ready for the day, which just equated to a quick brushing of his teeth, brushing his hair, and washing his face. He knew he looked pretty enough, so he didn’t need much else.

When he leaves the bathroom, Sakurada was still there, sunglasses now over his eyes as he smiles at Niragi. “ Ready to go?” He asks, and Niragi barely even offers a grunt as he grabs his rifle and leaves the room before Sakurada. As he usually did, Sakurada follows after him, water sprayer at his side. Niragi much rather prefer no more sprays today, as his pride kept getting damaged every time it happened, especially in front of the other Beach members. He wanted to just shoot Sakurada and get it over with, but something in him kept him from going through with it. Maybe the idea of shooting what looked just like him turned on some weird survival instinct that kept him from killing ‘himself’, even if he attempted to just treat Sakurada as the weird twin that won’t leave him alone.

The trip to the dining area was… weird. Niragi could spot other members looking towards his direction, some whispering or plainly talking to each other. Most of them were about the ‘pretty lady’ right behind him, wondering who ‘she’ was, and why ‘she’ was even following a guy like Niragi.

Niragi couldn’t help but approach every single one and sneer at them, telling them off and watching them flee with their tails between their legs, only to have to deal with Sakurada lightly scolding him on manners.

“ Yada yada yada, still don’t care!” Niragi comments after the seventh time, Sakurada lightly spraying the back of Niragi’s neck with water. Niragi hisses at the cold temperature, whipping around and glaring at Sakurada, who just gives him a disappointed look.

“ You should. I know you like doing whatever you please, but it doesn’t hurt to be a little more polite.” “ Politeness can get fucked.” Niragi grumbles, and that only earns him a second spray, right on the ear. He angrily swipes the water droplets away, and picks up his pace, Sakurada quickly matching his pace.

The two of them continue to walk, and Niragi finally decides to ask about his weird getup, looking towards Sakurada. “ So what’s with the dress? Decide you’re a girl now or something?” “ This dress was very free flowing, and I felt like dressing up like this for the day! It doesn’t have to mean anything! Don’t I look nice?” “ I mean……” Niragi just shrugs. He has no idea what to really make of it. Sakurada in a dress and looking decent was…. not something Niragi thought he’d see. Or ever want to admit. He never understood. “ Sure. But it’s weird as shit. You’re fucking weird.” “  Language. But thank you for the compliment.” Sakurada chirps with a soft smile. He still was wearing the sunglasses, so Niragi couldn’t tell what his eyes said, but the smile said enough. Niragi rolls his eyes.

They make it to the dining area, and people immediately are looking at the both of them. Some were faces of concern because of Niragi being there now, others in a curious light as who his companion was, as Sakurada didn’t bother to separate from his side yet. Niragi smiles at a few members in a prideful air, and heads to grab breakfast, Sakurada keeping in step. From the corner of his eye, Sakurada had been waving at a few, nodding his head in greeting at others, people settling easily with the sight of him instead of focusing on Niragi minding his business.

He sits down by himself at a spare table, Sakurada sitting besides him and pulling back the blond locks so he didn’t stain them in the food, simply eggs and fruits with yoghurt on the side. “ How long are you gonna stay like that?” Niragi asks, chewing on the end of a honeydew slice. “ All day!” “ You do realize you look like a girl right? Everyone’s gonna think you’re like….. my girlfriend. Which is gross. I don’t want you as a girlfriend.” Sakurada lightly laughs, smiling. “ I wouldn’t want to be, no offense to you of course. I suppose it’ll just have to look like that for today! I’ll clear up the misunderstanding if anyone asks. There’s a lot of people here that come in and out, there’s no harm in one day of looking like this, is there?” Niragi rolls his eyes again.  “ You’re weird." “ But I’m good company, am I not?” “ You do nothing but look pretty and spray me.” “ It’s simply for your own good! You can’t go around all mean all the time you know! You can be tough without being creepy!” Sakurada cheerfully reprimands, pulling his sunglasses up to rest on his head, Niragi rolling his eyes even harder.

“ Shut up.” “ I think you’re very tough! Look at you go, with your cool piercings and gun! And  you hold yourself very proudly! That’s enough for now! The creepy part can chill-“ “ Sakurada, if you don’t shut up right now I am going to blow your head off.” Niragi grumbles, Sakurada smiling and eating a spoonful of yoghurt. He sighs, then smirks, nodding a little. “ I am pretty cool, huh?”  Niragi mutters to himself, then barks a short laugh. “ Hell yeah.” Sakurada chuckles, and gives him a thumbs up, Niragi glancing at his dress-wearing doppelgänger.  Even if he was a weird, dress-wearing pretty face, at least he had a point.

Still wasn’t gonna stop him from doing fuck-all though. Water hits his face, and he sputters, head whipping over to glare at Sakurada, who blinks too innocently at him.

“ The fuck-“ “ You have very loud thoughts. Please restrain yourself today, and I’ll get you a really cool pair of leather pants on a supply run next time!” “…. Make them black and you got yourself a deal, you spring roll-looking grass stick.”

Sakurada nods. “ Of course! “

[mtherhino]

One Side, Two Lives

Chapter Three

First Previous Next

Hello Brother Dearest!

Warning: mention of eating disorder, swearing, and Remus being Remus

What a wonderful morning. Not. Roman rolled out of bed, literally. He groaned as he got up from the floor and wandered around his room. It was early, maybe around four or something, he honestly couldn’t care too much. Being the ego really sucked sometimes, because if Thomas was feeling horrible and like he wasn’t worth anything, Roman might as well have caught a bad case of the flue. He had woken up with a sore throat and such a stuffy nose that he could barely breath.

“Why, just why must I be the ego?” Roman complained to no one as he messed with his already crazy hair. He sighed, guess I better go get some kind of medicine. He was so out of it that he didn’t even try to conceal his appearance to any others that might be up at that time.

He walked out of his room and lazily walked to the main room. Although the sides did have their own bathrooms and medicines, all of Roman’s was pain pills and and antidotes for different poisons. You’d be surprised what he finds on is adventures, Remus doesn’t exactly know the meaning of “harmless creatures”.

Because of this, their was a bigger medicine cabinet that was open to anyone, Logan made sure that this was put it to place a while ago when Roman came back from a a small adventure and was severely poisoned and out of medicine. To say that he gave some of the others a scare would be a bit of an understatement; though he didn’t really know any of this since he was out cold for the next three days.

When he got to the main room he was a bit surprised to see the anxious side sleeping on the couch curled up with his headphones still on. He was snoring softly and Roman, even sick, couldn’t help but smile at him. He’s like a little cat, so cute. Roman grabbed a blanket that was on one of the other seats and and carefully used it to cover the smaller side.

After that he went over to the cabinet and got the medicine labeled “ego boost”. He hated taking these, they weren’t supposed to lessen depression, they sorta just put Roman in a state of neutral at times like this, supposedly if he takes too many Thomas will think he can do literally anything, and that would be incredibly dangerous. He sighed as he took only half of the small pills, this should lessen his symptoms while still keeping his mental state the same.

After taking it he went back to his room and laid down in his bed. He needed to to get to work but he was just felt so dead right now, he could take a a little break right now right? Your so pathetic, can’t even work though a little cold?

“Shut up you asshole…” and Roman was out like a light.

He woke up a few hours later with a start when something large and stinky jumped on his bed.

“Who goes there?!” He said, a sword materializing in his hand. Not a second after two daggers met his sword.

“Hello brother dearest!” The owner of the daggers shouted. Roman squinted in his lightly dark room and made out the shape of an insane smile and green eyes. He groaned and flopped back onto his bed.

“Hello Remus.”

“What’s wrong Robro? Usually you start yelling at me already for being on your bed” Remus said in a concerned voice. Roman, who had previously had his arm draped over his head, looked up and saw that his brother had mud splattered on his shirt and pants, which was starting to get on his bed. Once again he groaned and without being able to think of a more polite way, he simply kicked his brother of his bed to stop any further damage to his sheets.

           “I’m sick Re, its not very fun” he complained to his brother. The green side was about to jump back onto the bed when Roman shot him a glare that could kill. Although he could probably get away from his brother in the state he was in, Remus decided to do the nice thing and snapped away his usual outfit leaving him in some shorts and a green tank top that had the image of a broken heart on it, after that he jumped back onto the bed and laid next to his brother.

           “Is this because of the debate from yesterday? Ego a little low bro?” Roman just gave a small nod to tell his brother he was right. He hated being sick, but he had to do something or else he would defiantly feel worse tomorrow, at least emotionally. He sighed as he sat up and walked over to his work desk, if he was a little wobbly he wouldn’t admit it.  He looked over the many projects he needed to finish but his mind could barely register any of them.

            “You know as much fun as it would be to see you fall on your face five times trying too work, I think you should sit down.” Remus said forcing his brother to sit back on his bed.

“I’m going to go grab you something to eat and if I find out you tried to work I’m hitting you in the head with my morning star. “ he said before he left his brother in his room.

He quickly rose up into the dark sides part of the mind palace and grabbed a couple of snacks. A bole of popcorn, a few juice boxes, two apples balancing on his head, and finally a stick of deodorant stuffed under his arm.

As he walked back to Roman’s room he was careful to avoid the others. He wasn’t afraid of anyone, he was creativity, one of the strongest sides, but he wanted to make a big appearance soon and he didn’t want to spoil that by one of the light sides seeing him.

Once he did get back to his brother’s room he saw Roman trying to sneak his way over to his desk to work. Not having any of this, Remus stuck out his foot and tripped him, summoning a pillow so that he wouldn’t hit his head to hard.

“I told you not to move, you’re sick and you’re not going to be good for anyone if you don’t take the time to get better.” Roman sighed in defeat and got off of the ground, though he was tempted to just lay there and fall asleep.

“Fine, you win Re, but what the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime? You know I hate doing nothing.” Roman said as he flopped on the bed.

           “Well you can start by eating,” Remus said, and just before Roman could interject he continued , “I know you haven’t eaten anything today so don’t even try to lie to me.” Roman faked offense, “I would never! I’m the heroic prince, I would never lie.” He said with a smile. Remus snorted at that.

“Yah, and I’m as strait as a ruler, we can do this all day Ro” he retorted. The siblings where used to small squabbles, it was just how they were, honestly it would be concerning if they didn’t get into some kind of argument already.

           After their little argument, they decided to have a movie day. Roman of course voted that they watch a Disney movie with a good bit of action, Remus on the other hand wanted to watch a horror movies with lots of gore. Compromising, they decided to to watch an animated DC movie of Remus’s choice that had enough people getting killed to satisfy him.

            They were having a fairly good time all in all,  but unfortunately for Roman it did not go unnoticed that he wasn’t eating much.

“I swear Roman if you don’t start eating more I will stab you in the gut, one time for every meal you missed.” Remus scolded his brother. Roman rolled his eyes saying that stabbing him wouldn’t be any better for his health, Remus said it would remind him to eat regularly.

“Look Remus, I know you worry about me and I worry about you, but I promise you I’m fine. I don’t go a day where a don’t eat something.” Roman said. It was true, after a very heated argument with his brother a few months ago Roman had made sure to eat a little something each day, even if that something was just a handful of grapes.

Remus sighed, “I know brother but with how much you go adventuring the little amount of food you eat might as well be nothing.”

“Hey, you go out adventuring as much as I do and you eat deodorant for breakfast.” And accidentally proving Roman’s point, Remus took another bite of his favorite flavor of deodorant before glaring at his brother.

“Maybe but you know I eat three meals a day even if those meals aren’t the healthiest. Come on Roman, I’m just trying to make sure you don’t accidentally hurt yourself.” Remus said with the softest look he could muster. Roman sighed in defeat, he hated making others feel bad and  being a burden on them. Maybe if he just played along he could convince his brother that he was doing better.

           “Okay ok, I promise I’ll do a better job of taking care of myself, what kind of prince would I be if I make others worry for nothing. Can we move on to a different conversation now?” Roman said starting to feel uncomfortable as they continued to talk about his flaws. Remus, sensing his twins discomfort smiled a smile that was a bit to wide and moved onto something else.

“Ok Ro, what have you been working on recently?” Remus said, he knew full well how much Roman like to tell about whatever project he was on. To his immense surprise Roman sighed heavily and flopped onto his back.

“I’ve got a few things that I’m exited to get working on, but currently I’m just feeling a bit overloaded with having to come up with whatever we’re doing in the next Sander Sides video” Roman complained. He only ever complained to his brother since he knew that Remus would figure out what was bugging him wether he told him or not.

           Remus considered this and walked over at Roman’s desk that laid on the other side of the bed. There were papers thrown everywhere on it and some of them had a small red x in the corner which he could only guess meant ‘scrap it’ considering his brother’s perfectionist mental state.

           I really need to help him work on his self esteem, the self conscious bastard. Remus thought to himself. Well, he couldn’t do much now, but maybe he could buy his brother a bit of time.

“Hey Ro!” He suddenly exclaimed, makingRoman jump a bit. “I’ve got a great news. I was planing for it to be a bit of a surprise but whatever. I’m going to introduce myself to Thomas in the next video!” That got Roman to pay attention.

“Really?! Heck yah! No offense to the others but things will be way more interesting with you around!” Roman was as exited about the idea as Remus. They always had to be careful with their meet ups because of the whole light sides and dark sides thing, but if Remus introduces himself to Thomas it would make a lot more sense if he just popped up in the lights sides area every now and then.

           “Of course things will be more interesting, its me where talking about” and just to emphasize his point, Remus plucked off his head and held it under his arms, wearing a smile the whole time. Roman gaged at the display and warned his brother about getting blood on his carpet, even though he himself had done so many a times. Once Remus screwed his head back on, literally, he sat down and explained that he was probably going to give Thomas a light  nightmare and then show up when he asks the others to appear to talk about the dream.

           Although Roman was not a fan of scaring Thomas in any way, it sounded like a fairly good plan. It would give reason for Remus to appear and Thomas was already having some trouble sleeping thinking about the missed call back and all.  

“Sound like a good plan brother, but Thomas is already having nightmares quite often so your probably going to want to make a move sooner than later before we discus the nightmare problem.” Roman said. Remus nodded a bit, understanding the reasoning.

           “Alright, he has to make some kind of video two days from now right? Ill just show up the night before so that he makes it a Sander Sides.”

“It’s going to be hard to pretend like we hate each other.” Roman said, the two have been putting up a charade of hatred for each other their entire lives, but it was a lot harder to act like you hate someone when you’re around them and just want to act like siblings.

“Yah, but it should be fine, it can’t be that hard to act like I want to kill you.” Remus said playfully, but he made a mistake in that moment, he shoved Roman in the ribs.

Roman hissed in pain and put a hand to his side. Remus pulled back, that was a really light hit, but he acted like his ribs are- Remus’s face turned into a scowl as he figured it out.

           “Roman…” Roman froze at his brother’s voice. Well, I’m screwed. He slowly turned to his brother with a nervous smile. Even though they were the same height Remus seemed to tower over him and Roman knew he was not getting out of this one. “Hey brother, something the mater?” Roman said, his voice shaking and still keeping up his smile.

“Did you get hurt and not tell me dear brother?” Remus said with one of his creepiest smiles.

            The two usually helped one another when they get hurt, so when either of them didn’t tell the other, someone got a very harsh scolding.

“Um, maybe? I just went for a walk in the imagination and got hurt a little bit”  Roman said rubbing the back of his neck.

“How badly?” Remus asked.

“Oh, not very badly, just a few broken ribs.” Roman answered looking anywhere but his brother. Remus, still smiling like a maniac, put his hands to his mouth, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath in.

“HOW IN THE WORLD ARE YOU SUCH A FREAKING IDIOTIC MORON!”  Remus yelled as he shook his brother back and forth.

“I thought I could handle it! I just fought the manticore chimera for a bit and got nocked into a wall. But after that I came right back and wrapped my ribs and got some ice so I’m fine now!” He stated as he tried to defend himself.

“That doesn’t mater you idiot! First of all, you shouldn’t have fought the manticore by yourself you asshole! Secondly you should have come to me when you got hurt! What if it hadn’t been a clean break and a piece had cut up your insides or something!”

“That’s not how humans work!”

“That’s not important right now! You should be resting for a lot longer than one day! Your sick and you have broken ribs! That is a very bad combo!”

“Look, I didn’t mean for things to go as badly as it did, I wanted to blow off some steam and I was off my game a bit.”

           Remus sighed heavily.

“Look Roman that’s not the point. How would you feel if I got seriously hurt and and didn’t tell you?” Roman thought about that for a second, he figured that he would probably scream at his brother for getting hurt for an hour of more.

“I guess I would yell at you until you couldn’t hear anymore.” Roman admitted. He thought that he could pull of the act to not make Re worried, but it looked like he failed at that as much as everything else in his life.

“Look, just, come to me when you have a problem. We both got issues and we need to deal with them. It’s better for us to put them out into the open instead of trying to hide them and us finding out later.”  Roman sighed and agreed with his brother.

“I get it, if I get hurt this badly again I’ll go to you for help” Roman said, crossing his fingers behind his back. “Can we move onto a different subject now, I could really use a break from real life for a while.”

“Not quite yet brother, you have to promise me you won’t be doing too much until your ribs are at least partially healed.”

“That’s going to take at least three weeks before they are completely healed!”

“Just get some medicine from Logan and take some of your ego pills, you’ll be good in a two weeks tops” Remus said.

“Maybe but we have to do a video before then remember, it was your plan.” Roman pointed out with an annoyed scowl on his face. Remus seemed to think that fact over a bit, then you could practically see the lightbulb appear over his head.

“What if I knock you out for most of the video?”

           Roman’s brain short circuited for a minute. “What?”

“Just listen. I could pretend to hit you in the head with my morning star and then you could just pretend to be knocked out for the rest of the video! You can get some sleep and rest while it gives me a more dramatic appearance, its perfect!” Roman did not think this was the best solution they could come up with, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get Remus to change his mind.

“Fine, if you really think this is the best option.” Roman said. He couldn’t help but give a small smile when his brother lifted his arm in the air proclaiming victory as loudly as he could. The rest of the day the two went over the plan and Remus’s song to make sure everything went right. Roman smiled as Remus started singing  “Forbidden Fruit”, I guess having a manic for a brother isn’t so bad.

Finally! I been dying to start writing for Remus. I hope all the people with brothers or sisters could recognized the fear of getting in trouble with them. Well, that all for now humans, have a lovely day, bye!

Tag list

@lovelivingmydreams