#PaperPrinciples

[roseamongroses]

Paper Principles (masterpost)

((Make sure you check the warnings with some of these, I’m not as thorough as I should be when posting to tumblr but most should be tagged on Ao3 if not just tell me, ill tag it)

Pairings: Roman & Patton (Side Pairings include: Briefly mentioned one sided Roman/Deceit, Patton/Remy, Roman/Logan, Virgil/Some Peace and Quiet

Summary: 

On paper, Patton and Roman were inseparable.

On Paper, Patton and Roman were just friends.

They didn't really read between the lines with each other, didn't try to push it further then it was because it was comfortable. Being together was comfortable, no more, no less. Just having someone familiar, someone you could call home, not to necessarily solve anything, but to know you're not the only one who can feel your heartbeat, that you were alive, that you didn't just make it all up in your head.

Because at the end of the day, it didn't matter what you thought it was, it just was what it was. What it should or shouldn’t become did not and will not matter.

At the end of the day, it's just Patton and Roman.

Links

Ao3

part (1) : flordia rain has the tendency for the dramatics, roman appreciates their efforts

part (2) : these stains may be tough, but you bet this platonic affection is tougher

part (3) : cold park-benches and too bright screens are inadequate places for roman’s break down, but he’ll take it

(Part 3 Bonus Not Posted Yet)

part (4) : two secrets and other lies we told ourselves without realizing

(Part 4 Bonus Not Posted Yet)

[roseamongroses]

PP part (4) : “two secrets and other lies we told ourselves without realizing “

Warnings: Lowkey life related crisis, Self doubt,  cursing, jealousy but not in the way you think tbh

Characters: Remy Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, (Mentioned: Deceit: goes by Eaton)

backround pairings: Remy/Patton, Roman/Logan, Virgil/ His vintage car seats, his career, and his cats

p(1) p(2) p(3) 

Ao3

On paper, Patton and Roman were just friends

Eyes narrowed, Patton crammed another chunk of cake in his mouth, brushing away the crumbs with the sleeve of his newly finished knitted sweater.

Across the table his boyfriend, sighed, rolling his eyes,  “You’re not  going to convince me by throwing a tantrum,” He huffed, giving a pointed look over his tinted frames, jabbing his own barely touched cake with his finger for emphasis,  “Look, girl, girl, you put too much damn vanilla in this.”

“I did not,” Patton swallowed, sniffing through the pain, “You’re just being mean.”

Remy scoffed, smiling, “Sure thing babe, “ he leaned over swiping some of Patton’s icing that escaped onto his face, tongue flicking out to taste that abomination of humanity, “Totally not,”

“Ugh, “ He batted Remy’s hands away, “No respect in this house I swear-” His nose curled, eyes darting to the kitchen, his kitchen, “My chocolate muffins shi-” He sprung from his chair, darting out the room, table and it’s random array of various holiday-themed ornaments clattering dangerously .

After a few dozen noticeable crashes from the danger zone, Remy's phone buzzed. Easily slipping  it out, Remy glanced towards the kitchen before eying the string of texts, “Bitch,” he frowned, noting the recent timestamps of the vague as hell texts, “Ugh, this tea better be strong.”

He sighed, brushing off the remaining crumbs from his leather jacket, pushing his shades further up the bridge of his nose, he stood up, humming as he strolled to the door.

Swinging it open, he scowled, amused, “Isn’t it my favorite trash-man, what’s this? Late.” He tsked, moving to let Virgil inside.

“Shut your face,” Virgil sneered, quietly shutting the door behind him, not bothering to remove his jacket, “Weren’t you the man who was late to a dinner date at his own house?” His eyes narrowed, fighting the smile automatically curling on his face.

“I was seeing the sights,” Remy shrugged, lazily making his way back to the table.

Rolling his eyes, Virgil follows suit picking the seat closest to the door, “Remy, you disaster, you were in the house.”

“So,” said disaster clasped his hands, looking like a bored madman, “Where are these complications and how are they so complicated that you didn’t even spill over text?”

“Drama rat.”

“Correct, now did these complications involve the chess discourse or do they involve 80-year-old women threatening to destroy someone’s legacy from the source.”

“Neither,” Virgil said, reaching to steal Remy’s cake, which he pushed towards him gladly, “Though Lucy is pissed you didn’t visit last week,” he carelessly bit into a large chunk, face souring immediately, but swallowing nonetheless.

“Hey, this drama rat has to pay his bills.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Virgil ate another chunk with more visible ease, “Prince and Prince Charming are in the car,”  he grumbled, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What are they making out all over your vintage seats or something?”

“I wish,” Virgil snorted, “They’ve been talking nerd the entire way, and that’d be fine if they didn’t somehow manage to shove their unresolved romantic- sexual shit into it.”

“Ah, I remember those days,” Remy almost swooned in distaste, “How long have those two have been pining? One? Two months or something?”

Virgil stared at him, slowly placing his fork down, blinking slowly, “Try... five... years.”  he said as if the reality had just dawned on him.

He picked up his fork again, slamming it down for emphasis, “Five fucking years, holy shit. I’m done with Roman and his dramatic bullfuckshittery, fuck thi...and Logan. Logan. Nevermind I should’ve expected this...then again they aren't really obligated to define themselves, but my seats are too delicate to handle them avoiding it completely like they are--” his eyes were glazed, as he continued mumbled rant of vague curses.

Patton chose that moment to peek out of the kitchen, satin bonnet now on,  smudges decorating his face, and soft hazel eyes holding a deathly gleam, “Did you just say Roman?”

Remy smiled sweetly, shooting Virgil a glare, “Yes, Roman, who just landed in Italy,  right Virgil?”, meanwhile, he internally pleads for Virgil to shut the fuck up.

Virgil flushed, avoiding Patton’s curious gaze, “R-right, Italy--Italy. You know this cake is really good Patton let’s talk about that and not Roman, who is in Italy. Rome. Like his name...” he said, stuffing another scoop of the overtly flavored cake in his mouth.

Sensing weakness, Patton narrowed his attention onto Virgil, who unlike Eaton, could hardly manage to tell any less than the truth. It’s what Patton had always liked about Virgil. Especially moments like now, when Remy couldn’t sass his way out of interrogations.

“Virge,” Patton tilted his head, just a bit, batting his eyelashes, “You wouldn’t know if Roman, who I love more then anything-”

“The fuck am I?” Remy scoffed, not surprised

“Boyf-best-friend is different then Best-best-friend, love-” Patton corrected, not missing how Virgil none too subtly tried to fade into the furniture, “So, if I text him now he wouldn’t tell me he’s outside?”

“I….Uh.” Virgil looked to Remy for assistance.

They both knew the only other person worse then Virgil at keeping secrets from Patton was Roman. Not because he couldn’t lie for shit, hell he could give Eaton a run for his money if the chips were down. No, it was more like Roman would actually kill a man before he willingly disappointed Patton, even for a surprise.

Remy looked away like a goddamn traitor.

And that was enough evidence for Patton to go power walking out the door, not even bothering to put on shoes. By the time the other two had trudged out there, Virgil briefly raiding the kitchen beforehand, Patton was a bundle of giggles, excitedly chattering and bounding around the guest. Roman looking pleased, face flushed and beaming, and Logan looking vaguely disoriented, standing behind Roman as if Patton would bite.

‘Which he does.’ Remy smiled, standing in the doorway, eyes appreciatively watching his boyfriend’s freckled face, his initial irritation washing away.

“Ugh, stop giving me oogies,” Virgil blandly complained, not really looking up from his popcorn, “ I thought you said you ate your emotions.”

“I do. Without remorse,” Remy said, watching Patton’s attempts to talk to Logan, “--but he’s like, really cute though, look at him he’s like a puppy— it’s  hella  unfair.”

“Excuses,” Virgil glanced at Patton, who still wore that damned sweater dress, despite the rapidly fading brief winter weather, “Valid as they are—“ he admitted between mouthfuls, “Are still excuses yah filthy gremlin. Just admit it, you’re old and full of icky emotions like the rest of us.”

Remy scoffed, looking over his sunglasses appalled and mouth open for rebuttal, but whatever not teen rated thing he had to say was halted all as once as Patton twirled around, beckoning him to greet their guests.

Remy slid away quick with a bit too much skip in his “cool guy” walk to even be considered casual.

Virgil rolling his eyes and stubbornly remaining in the air conditioning called out, “You fucking softie..”

“You bet your vintage ass I am,” Remy said, flipping him off before sliding an arm around Patron guiding him and their honored guest inside.

Watching the clouds gather outside, Virgil knew it was going to be a long night.

-

Patton sighed into the cheap lawn chair they kept on the porch, the soft rolling of thunder, and the soft thuds of the incoming rain a familiar accompaniment as he lazily stirred his tea. It was strange to think that the holidays used to feel so...draining.

A lot of the time he spent it trying to ignore the overwhelming loneliness it brought seeing the whole world past lights blazing, laughing easy. Even when he was offered a place to spend the days with Roman and his parents or Virgil and his grandmother, even the rare occasions Eaton offered to let him hang out with their group of friends, it felt like he was intruding in someone else’s moment.

But now...the moment felt all his. It wasn’t the flashy lights or dramatic public displays, it wasn’t traveling the world, throwing himself headfirst into whatever life gave. it was something softer, comfortable. And he loved it.  So he didn’t understand why he felt so…

“Oh, Patt, there you are,”  the screen door opened, Roman ducking outside easily.

Patton swallowed, setting his tea aside, “Yea, Virge kicked me out of the kitchen,” he sniffed, “-and I don’t drink at every possible occasion, unlike some people.”

“Hey, hey, is that judgment?” Roman gasped, sitting in the other chair gayly, feet somehow propping themselves up while simultaneously maintaining an air of politeness, “Or-or, is it you're mad that shades and you lost?

“Oh I’m not judging,” Patton hummed, judgmentally, “I’m just saying that shoving Remy off the couch, while he was already tipsy is a questionable method at winning Mario Cart.”

“Virgil promised me a dollar if I did, that’s a lie I did it for free.” Roman shrugged, taking down his messy bun and threading his hands through his hair, “Anyway! Shades and Specs are sulking because I kicked their asses once again and, now, ugh!  Refuse to give me any more attention, “ he whined, slumping further into his seat, “Patton, I needed attention, I can feel my youth draining already.”

Patton snorted, “What about Virgil?”

“He’s sleeping like a babe,” Roman scratched his chin, “A very loud grumpy babe, who hissed when I  moved him upstairs because he can’t admit he likes being carried.”

“So I’m your last choice?” Patton said, “I’m hurt.”

“You shouldn’t and you weren’t,” he said, “I would’ve bugged you earlier but Remy threatened to slice me like a cake if I disturbed your peace. “ He sniffed, “The nerve, me? Disturbing the peace? I’m a delight.”

“Well, there was second grade when…”

Roman’s face flushed, “I was a kid, a very justified, gay kid.”

“Mhm, that’s what you always say,” Patton said, grinning, “How about that time at the park, with Ms. Flores. -”

“She might be old, may she be at peace, but she was petty and I never fail to rise to the challenge.” he crossed his arms, “And don’t mhm me, it was second grade! I’m allowed to have crushes, even if they have abysmal taste in writing.”

“Now that I think about it you’ve had crushes on a lot of our friends, most turned into squishes but... hmm..” he sipped his tea content, “Virgil, Eaton, Nate, Terrence-”

“Pat, please no, you said you loved me,” Roman groaned through his hands.

“I think me at one point?” Patton said, setting his cup down, “Don’t know why though…”

“I was five,” He huffed, “And you are cutest out of all of them.”

“Mhm, sounds fake, but that ring pop was pretty, plus,” Patton said, before adding on a bit more quietly, “I think it’s cute you had so much love to give,” He curled into the seat tighter, that creeping unease settling on him as easily as he pushed it away.

“Huh,” Roman paused, “I thought I was just...flaky.”

“No…” Patton frowned, “No. You are not a flake Roman, you throw yourself into everything, into everyone. You didn’t stop loving your crushes, you just love them a different way."

"No relationship is ever just…” Patton's voice hitched, “ no person is just a stepping stone for you. Well,” he forced a laugh, “At least I hope not, you have gotten pretty big online...you travel all the time, meet people all the time. Your career’s bigger than anything I've made in the workshop…”

Ah, that’s the feeling.

Not jealous….just…less. Too slow. Not enough. He was almost 30 after all, what has he to show, what has he done?

“Uh, Patton amour, pardon my french, but that’s bullshit,” Roman said, brow furrowed and trained on him.

“Wha-?”

“It's,” Roman leaned closer, “Bull-” he said, “Shit.”

Before Patton could finish gaping and respond, Roman jumped in, “Did you or did you not pay and work your way to college?”

“It was a community college-”

“It was unthinkable for you. Remember? You expected to fail high school, to barely get your GED.”

Patton smiled sadly, “I hated school.”

“As you should, some, not Mrs. Huang she was a saint,  those teachers were fucking obnoxious shits with only a diploma shoved up their--”

Roman grumbled shaking his head, “Let it go-Let it go-Let it fucking go--,” he half sang, “Anyway, you hated the system, but you worked it. You graduated, went to college with little support at home. And got a whole job.”

“Roman I…” Patton slumped, “That’s great, wonderful, fantastic, but got that job I expected to...move on, to make a change, now I don’t have any expectations at all. I don’t have a growing career…”

“No, but you have a stable one.” Roman said, hugging himself, “Sure, my growth might be a bit much...but that’s all I have right now. Growth. Nothing’s stable, nothing’s set in stone...nothing is ...mine.”

“Roman…”

“No, I’m not being self-deprecative...I think. It’s just,” Roman sighed, rocking in his seat, “When my blog’s gone when my videos are gone when my friends all around the world start to settle down what do I have to show my progress?

"Patton, you have a home, a community you support and see every day, a fiance who loves you as much as you love him. I love my life to death, I’m thankful I can even have it, but sometimes, a lot of times, I think. Shocking, yes, but I think."

"About when I’m old, about when I’m dying, about when I don’t want to do this anymore. When I just want to settle down and just rest I--” He laughed, body jerking unnaturally," Will I even have a chance? None of it seems real now…And I-” he squeaked, Patton plopping into his lap.

“Pat-” Roman whined, “I --Ugh, sorry I was supposed to let you sulk,” Patton rested his head on  Roman’s shoulder, playing with his hands.

“We can sulk like this,” Patton said, throat tight, “Being sad with friends is a preference of mine.”

“Even if it solves nothing?”

Patton closed his eyes, “Who says we have to solve anything?”

Because in the end, they were just Patton and Roman

[roseamongroses]

PP part (3): “cold park-benches and too bright screens are inadequate places for roman’s break down, but he’ll take it”

Warnings:Aftermath/Part of breakdown, self depricating/ self blame thoughts (along the lines of existence), home sickness, probably some dependency issues, somewhat violent hyperboles cursing tbh (pls tell me if i missed something) 

Characters/Sides: Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders (brief) 

p(1) p(2) p(4)

Ao3

On paper. Patton and Roman were Inseparable

His hands were numbed, holding his lolled head from completely collapsing onto the park bench he was curled into. His clothes were scratchy, the stains from earlier that night still angrily present across his thighs and shirt.

Ignoring how the cold pressed into his thighs, into him, he scrolled through his phone, not noticing how he squinted at the light, not noticing how he didn’t even bother turning down the light, and not acknowledging the worried streams of text he got from Patton. He’s not even sure they were from Patton. 

He wasn’t sure about much nowadays.

Life after high school was really the cold jump in the lake Roman sure as hell didn’t sign up for. Nothing was right, not the classes he wanted, no, strived to get into, not his teachers, not his now blurry future plans, and certainly not his relationships.

Because he certainly knows how to fuck up basic human interactions. He doesn’t even know when it happened, he was usually so in control, everything was in his grasps. He had the confidence, the charm, he could carry a conversation without feeling the bile in his throat follow through with it's threats. He was perfect.

But it was fucking exhausting.

School piled up quickly, homework seemed to be an endless game of catch up of things he isn’t even sure they learned, and all around him it felt like everyone was mocking them with their ease, with their achievements. People getting diplomas, finishing top of their class, even just managing to go out to get some shitty cold coffee with their friends without their body going into full panic mode. All he could feel, all he got was him slipping. Slipping and slipping. Until he did it, he finally reached his grand climax, the finale to end all finale’s.

He fucked up.

And now he might as well disappear.

His fingers mindlessly scrolled faster as Roman blinked back the familiar sensation fogging his mind.Nothing really on the screen to comfort or calm him, more like the sensation of feeling something, even as simple as the cool, surprisingly unshattered phone in his palm provided a sense of weight and comfort. Eventually the fogg slipped away, quietly, job done.

His throat untightened, his body untensed, and now he just existed. Amongst the barren trees, the foreign nipping air, and the stench of the city not too far from here. He let himself become one with this picture, let his mind fade into the noisy, car horns sometimes faint voices. He picks out each, puts them into their boxes and moves on, ignoring how he embarrassing wishes he could hear the damn cicadas screech their heads off.

Instead he hears the shuffling of footsteps approaching, slow and steady. Roman huffed, dropping his head into his arms in a lame attempt at hiding… everything really. He peeked, curiosity ever the bitch, catching a glimpse at the familiar, faintly worn in brown [shoe name] that stopped in front of him.

He didn’t greet them, it just felt...wrong to speak at all. He could speak now, thoeretically like he could theoretically shoot a puppy. He could, but he wouldn’t. It was wrong by the sheer fact that every sense of his being felt like it was stuffed with cotton and freshly sewn up.

“Roman,” he greeted, voice freshly woken up and hoarse, and Roman winced.

He woke him up.

A few beats of silence, before they sighed, the creak of the park bench beside Roman grabbing his attention. A few more and Roman finally dragged himself to at least look at the man, he could do that much he thinks.

Dark brunette hair, their neat waves tucked behind their ear in defiance. Glassless eyes only making the sharpness of the blue stand out even more against their tanned skin. Said eyes flickered over him in a brief display of concern and Roman tried not to let that feed his ego.

“Roman, you know he worries about you. ” Logan said, no more no less could be said.

So Roman didn’t say anything, instead focusing on Logan’s shoes, noting his change in shoelace color. Black to brown, a bold choice.

Another pause, another silence. It was weird, weeks of staying with Logan abroad was constantly filled with some noise. Yelling, pens clicking, coffee brewing. A different type of cadence then home, one that matched his pace, challenged his pace. But today, it was slow moving, a hesitant crescendo. It’s soft, yet strong  cadence stirred him with familiarity.

“You don’t have to talk about it with me.” Logan finally said, voice firm but not final, “We can argue another time, hell we argue all the time, but” He paused, eyebrows twitching, searching, “When you’re ready you  do need to call him. To call home, talk to someone, anyone else if you feel like you can’t talk to me. Even if it’s just your blog, anything , please. ”

Roman’s shoulders sagged, only mildly alarmed to not feel the urge to lash out. Instead he croaked in agreement, face cringing at the sound.

Tension unraveled from Logan all at once, shoulders rolling back and he almost held an air of dishevelment as he silently he slumped across the bench, shoulders barely brushing Roman’s.  

”You wanna stay for a bit more or head back?” He asked, the escaped strands of his bun curling definitely in his face , clouding his expression with an air of innocence.

Mumbling incoherently, Roman’s body surprisingly leaned into his touch, head lolling, “Here’s s’okay for a bit, “ he grumbled, pointedly not looking at much of anything, but he found he couldn’t ignore much of anything at this point as well.