#outing myself here but the last time i read Soulmate AU it was Sanders Sides shit like 4/5 years ago 💀

[rubra-wav]

I’m BAAAAACKKK!

How have you been doing?? Now I have a question and this will dictate some of my future asks…

How do you feel about Soulmate Aus??? Love em, Hate em, THE PEOPLE NEED ANSWERS‼️ 🎤

Thank you :3333

With love,🦋anon<3

Ima be so fr my ass thought you were talking about Australia (bc Aus) for a hot second I was like?? Is there a music artist named Soulmate or sumn here? 💀/lh

Real talk but - I don't have much experience with reading stuff containing them, but I think they are cool from what I've seen 👍

#i like the red string of fate type stuff #🦋 anon #outing myself here but the last time i read Soulmate AU it was Sanders Sides shit like 4/5 years ago 💀 #also heyyyy #ive been bad a bit lately tbh but im hoping it'll piss off 👍

[iwrestlenow]

Many More To Die, Chapter 15 (Epilogue)

TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 15, Epilogue)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: Logan goes home for the first time in ten years--and ends this story so he can start a new one at Roman's side.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), Moceit (Patton/Janus) and Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: implications of violence, but mostly schmoop

This story is over, but THE story is just beginning. Still, I want to thank literally everyone that's been reading and enjoying this. Your kind words and comments, your support and kudos and encouragement...

For a while now, I've lost my passion for writing. This lit a fire under my ass. Thank you for helping to fan the flame.

I am your biggest fan. All of you reading this. Every single person. <3

Oh also this is unbeta'd so if it sucks it's on me, hope you have fun reading anyhoodle. :P

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

“You're nervous.”

“Falsehood.”

“I'm the one that's supposed to be nervous.”

“Roman, I am warning you...”

Roman's mouth was abruptly on his, warm and sweet and firm. His arms were secure around Logan's waist, pulling Logan's back against his chest, and Logan was helpless in the face of liquid golden warmth trickling through his limbs and pooling sweetly somewhere low in his belly as he leaned back into Roman's embrace.

It had been a week, and technically, Logan and Patton were still prisoners until a vote could be put to the people. As prince regent, with the king convalescing, Roman was already spreading word of the events in the castle, and the fact that necromancers had defended the life of the royal family.

Thomas, despite being alive, seemed hell bent on abdicating, claiming Roman was ready. Logan was in full agreement, but Roman refused to even consider it.

Not until he made sure his reign would be welcome.

Logan forced himself from the blissful reverie of Roman's embrace just in time to open his eyes and spot a figure on the horizon. People were appearing, but one towered above all the others.

Grandpap. Logan blinked hard against the sudden burn behind his eyes. Roman must have sensed his unrest, because a hand smoothed up the length of his spine.

The closer they drew, the more restless Logan became. His stomach was tightening, his chest compressing, a strange chill causing him to shiver when the air was perfectly pleasant...

Logan wasn't nervous. Logan was afraid.

Roman brought the horse they were riding to a stop once they were there—a dozen feet from the line of people that had formed to wait for their arrival, just at the boundary of the settlement.

Grandpap towered over them, but among the throng were Logan's parents—and endless others, so many he'd grown up with and around...

Roman gave him one gentle squeeze before he carefully dismounted and reached up to help Logan down. Taking one last breath, Logan walked up to face his grandfather as calmly as he could, where he stood, flanked by his child and goodchild—Logan's geni and his pari, Elliot and Talyn..

“Who claims this Weaver?” Josiah called out, raising his voice to be heard by the people around him.

“We do.” Elliot replied, their eyes too bright as they stared at Logan with a ferocity that made it hard to breathe. “We claim this Weaver, and grant him--”

“I will take no Name.”

Josiah regarded Logan sharply. “Scuse me?”

Logan took a deep breath. “I will take no Name, for I already have one.”

A gasp went through the group, and Talyn's hands flew to cover their mouth, tears slipping from their eyes.

“I am Logan Berry.” Logan continued, emboldened by the weight of a hand on his shoulder from behind. “Son of Elliot Crofter. Fruit of Talyn Crofter...heart-name of Starlight, recalled to life by the power of the Lazari.”

Logan paused, turning to face Roman.

“And I am claimed by the keeper of my soul.”

Roman smiled at him, bending to kiss Logan's cheek before he faced Josiah.

Only then did Logan realize Roman wasn't wearing it.

“Roman!”

Ignoring Logan, Roman stepped forward—and then dropped to one knee in front of Logan's grandfather as he drew his sword, offering it to him pommel first.

“To you, Lord Father, I submit my fate. If you have not the care to look into my soul, then it is better that you should run me through with my own sword and claim me as your thrall lest you believe me incapable of pure intent.” he declared without hesitation, his voice clear and strong. “What say you?”

Logan stood, breathless, as Grandpap gaped down at Roman with shock and anger in his face. His gaze flicked up to Logan, as if he couldn't help it--

Before he took the sword from Roman and hefted it into his hand with an ease that was unnerving. Logan had never seen his grandfather wield a blade, always fighting with bare hands and sharp words...

For the first time, he could see it: the blood of kings, the head that bore the weight of the crown, the noble blood that had passed from him to Geni and into Logan's veins.

Josiah used the flat of the blade to lift Roman's chin to meet his gaze.

“You know what you're askin', son?” he replied quietly.

“Yes, Lord Father.”

“To walk the grave and call it home?”

“To walk the grave, and call it home.” Roman replied, then continued with an ease that made Logan's chest tight with pride. “To give the dead my voice, to speak their will, to care for the lowest of the low as gods and as kings, for I seek no greater honor than to humble myself as a steward of the dead.”

“And why is that?” Josiah asked.

“For it is in the stewardship of death that we understand the blessing of life.”

Josiah slid another look up at Logan, raising an eyebrow. Logan had to bite back a smile—it was the same look Grandpap gave him whenever Logan asked for another new book or telescope or a third helping of jam with his breakfast as a little boy.

“You ask for death and resurrection as one of the tribe—what gift would you deliver for the honor of death and slavery?” Josiah asked, refocusing on Roman.

“The throne of the Kingdoms, and the crown that goes with it.”

Josiah blinked, the people around him dead silent with pure shock.

“Lies kill among this tribe, little prince.” Josiah warned.

Roman held steady, his breathing even, his voice colored with a softness that Logan knew meant he was smiling.

“Only a fool would come to the Lord Father of the Necromata with a lie on his lips—and while I am a fool many times over, I am not a fool in this.”

There was a startled, barely there ripple of tittering through the people at Grandpap's back—including the familiar roll of thunder that was Josiah's quiet chuckle.

“And the compensation you would ask for the soul you've gifted to my grandson?”

“I would ask for nothing, and accept only that which you would offer, Lord Father.”

“...then I offer you the throne of the Kingdoms, and the crown that goes with it. Didn't wanna be a king in my youth, and that ain't changed.”

“Grandpap--”

“Logan, hush your mouth.”

“But Grandpap, he's not--”

“Starlight, hush yer mouth.”

Logan's mouth snapped shut at the use of his True Name by his grandfather. Josiah watched Roman as he set the point of the sword against Roman's throat.

Roman was asking for the right to be with Logan not as a suitor or a spouse, but as a rightful member of his tribe. Such initiation required a blood sacrifice, usually represented with the symbolic slicing of a red thread or mutilation of a piece of red fabric.

And Roman wasn't wearing the thread Logan had knotted around his neck.

“It is done.” Josiah declared flatly, launching Logan's heart into his throat.

There was a soft twitch, and Roman's deep red travel cloak slipped off his shoulders to pool around him.

“The king is dead—and the king is reborn unto the tribe.” Josiah declared, lowering the sword and offering Roman his hand. “Rise, son of Shadow...and next time, wear the damn thread 'stead of showboating.”

Roman shrugged as he stood up. “I didn't want to give myself an out. I wanted you to know I meant it, I...I'm willing to die to be with your grandson, sir.”

“Well, now you are.” Grandpap replied, glancing at Logan again. “Provided this ain't an act?...”

Logan shook his head, then reached into his pocket and pulled the Soulstone free with shaking fingers, moving to Roman's side and handing it to Josiah.

“I apologize for stealing it, but I felt I had no choice.” he confessed. “For what it's worth, it protected me from the Cleansing—and likely protected Roman from far worse. Has news reached here?”

Josiah nodded, fingers curling around the Soulstone. “It has.”

“Then you know that Roman has had little memory of what led me to steal that ring—had the Soulstone not been present and working, the Animator might have done Roman harm much sooner to ensure he could successfully wipe out the royal family...and, without the king's protection, ours as well.”

Josiah just nodded, looking between the pair.

“So that's it? You two show up just to make the little prince Necromata and get my blessing? Where's your damn brother, and if the king lives why the hell did your soulmate just try to offer me the throne?”

Logan smiled, leaning into Roman's side. His arm came to settle around Logan's shoulders, the line of heat and pressure doing worlds to calm his nerves.

“It's a long story, Grandpap,” Logan offered, “but I think there's finally time enough to tell it—not just to you, but to everyone.”

Josiah smiled at that—a real smile, slow and broad and warm as fresh bread.

“I hope you mean more 'n just the Necromata, son...c'mon, let's go inside.”

With that, there was chaos, joyous and enveloping—and that word, once again echoing in Logan's head.

Necromata.

Once upon a time, Logan had nothing but that word to hold onto, alone in a dungeon cell, in pain and afraid.

Then Roman found him, for a second time, and saved him. Now, Roman had a future as king, and Logan...

Logan had that word again, but now that word also meant Roman. It meant his family, it meant his future...it meant real and lasting hope.

Necromata. It no longer meant the necromancers, or the legions of the Animator.

It meant his geni and pari, who chose that moment to leave Josiah's side and fling themselves at him.

It meant his Grandpap, snickering at them over his shoulder.

It meant Roman subjecting himself to the curious onslaught of questions from Logan's parents, not as a ruler but as Logan's future husband.

It felt like a Name now—a Name, freely accepted and made his own.

A life, restored.

For the first time, Logan could allow himself to have hope, because he had the power of the Necromata at his fingertips—and it was only a matter of time before that power and that hope brought the world back into balance once again.

#my name is liz and i swear to god i will fic again #this is all the artist's fault i'm just the hapless writer that stumbled across it #sanders sides #fic #logan sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #thomas sanders #logince #dukexiety #moceit

[sign-from-god-complex]

Um, so you're like a Tumblr god with writing, so do you have any tips on how to get your stories noticed and out there? Thank you!

ashdgfsdh that’s so!!!! nice!!!!! ty!!! so, to be totally honest, part of my situation is that I got really lucky with one of my fics early on, where it got like,,, a lot of notes and as such I ended up with way more followers but I can still try to give some tips!!!

(this got a little long, so I’m putting it under a cut)

1. Tagging

People (me included) will go through the Sanders Sides or character tags to find stuff to reblog. Only the first five tags you throw in will actually have your work in them (i.e. if you tag ‘1′, ‘2′, ‘3′, ‘4′, ‘5′, ‘6′, the fic will only show up when you search 1-5) and it won’t show up through searches at all if you use certain words (swear words, in particular, I’ve noticed).

Making sure to tag your stuff in a way that people will see definitely helps but also make sure it’s relevant tags. People looking for prinxiety won’t be thrilled to have analogical in the tag they’re searching. You can check my fics for the way I tag them if you want!

And, in relation to a different kind of tagging, use tag lists! I know there’s some general ones online (@the-taglist-repository has a bunch) but sometimes author’s will also just straight up tell you to tag them in stuff (e.g. I love being tagged in aspec or autistic sides content, @/rosesisupposes likes being tagged in superhero AUs, @/sleepless-in-starbucks demands /j to be tagged in all losleep content, etc. etc.).

I would be careful about just tagging people though. I’m, personally, not a fan of being tagged in things that I haven’t asked to be tagged in. It strikes me a little bit as ‘you’re a big blog so I’m just using your followers to try and promote myself’, even if that isn’t the intention.

2. Make content regularly

Now, I get that regularly putting out content is definitely not as easy as just saying you will—life gets in the way sometimes and creativity is stressful—but it definitely helped me when I started writing. I wasn’t doing much else with my time (an unusual circumstance), so I was putting out like,, at least 2 fics a month. In the entirety of last year I wrote 80 fics. But seriously, the more you write, the better your writing will be (practise!) and the more likely people will see it.

You can also try doing writing games like I’ve done for follower milestones in the past. You can find lists of prompts on tumblr, reblog them and ask people to send you a prompt and a ship for you to write a drabble for. There’s also things like Secret Santa (where people trade content for the holidays) and Soulmate September is this month, organised by @tsshipmonth2020! So participating in writing events that you find could also help!

3. Interact with other writers

The biggest thing, I think, personally, to help content creators is for them to work together to lift each other up (sounds kinda cheesy but I’m serious). If you comment on other people’s work telling them how much you enjoyed their fics, I guarantee they’ll be thrilled and you may become friends! (I’ve had,,, several friendships start this way; @/sleepless-in-starbucks and @/max-is-tired, among others).

And you can interact with writers outside of tumblr too! Discord is a super great way to chat with other writers and get your fics out there, I’ve found. There’s even some discord servers dedicated specifically to writing tss fanfics (@potestessemagishomosexualitatis has a great one that I’m in and ik there’s one run by discord user ‘parallelwrites’, though I’m not certain of their tumblr URL).

4. Write what you enjoy!

I guarantee people can tell if you’re writing stuff you’re not enjoying. You don’t have to write only the most popular ships to get notes on your writing (I mean, just look at Lia, who’s basically made their blog on the foundation of losleep). You should write the things you like, even if they’re niche, cause I promise if you want to read it, there’s other people out there who do as well.

I mean, I just read a qpr sleepxiety soulmate AU that the author (@averykedavra) described as ‘self-indulgent’. I’m a huge fan of platonic/queerplatonic sleepxiety but I never see it written! It’s not popular! But Avery wrote it and I loved it. I did not expect so many people to be thrilled about my aroace-Logan coming out story! I wrote it for Me but people really seemed to enjoy it! You never know what people will love.

5. Take care of yourself

This is maybe not so much writing advice as it is a caveat for all the stuff I’ve said here. At the end of the day, writing is fun and getting praise on your stories feels awesome, and I totally get that, but you gotta make sure not to burn yourself out. I went through a period when I started fic writing where I was,,,, a little too dependant on the feedback I got and if I didn’t get what I considered “enough notes” it basically sent me into a downward spiral.

Now, that’s me and I know not everyone will feel that way, but it’s good to remember you have worth outside of what you create. If you can’t manage to write the amount you think you “should” be, that’s okay. If you can’t manage to finish a piece you’ve been working on, that’s okay. If you go for months without writing because of stress, life or simply writer’s block, that’s all okay.

You are the most important thing in your creative endeavours; don’t forget that.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #I'll leave the tagging there since this is #barely tss-related ajhgd #I'm sorry this is so long but also I'm not #if you ask me for advice you gotta be prepared for /advice/ #I truly never shut up ajskdhfg #but I do hope this is helpful! #lo speaks #anonymous #ask lo #also! anyone is free to add on if they want

[srta-peppa]

Hihi! 💕💕 Im back. Sorry its so late!! But here we are... Sobbe friends to lovers fake dating au. I hope you like it and please let me know what you think. (ao3 link on the title)

Ch 2 // Ch 3

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"The things i do for you. "

Chapter 1:

“I need your help,” Robbe says at my back while I draw for one of my last projects. 

“With?” I ask after Robbe didn’t say anything more.  

I hear him take a deep breath, and normally I would stop what I’m doing and would look at him, but I’m really late with my work, and I can’t make any free time for Robbe. 

“You know that I have this huge crush on my best friend, right?” He asks, and I think for a moment. 

I don’t know Robbe’s friends that well. I saw them once or twice on his birthdays, but they all seem like assholes to me, so I never pay enough attention to them. So… Robbe’s friends… There was Yasmina, the only one I do remember because she was always kind, she actually listened to Robbe, then there was the curly blond. What was his name? Arnold? No, but I’m sure it was with an A. Well, it doesn’t matter, he wasn’t Robbe’s best friend. There was Moyo, the worst of all of them. And then.. the tall one, dark hair. Mmm... Oh yes! 

“Jens..” I finally say, changing the color of my pencil.

“Yes! Him.. well, the other day he told he is bi,” Robbe says, and at that, I freeze a little bit. Is he going to tell me that they are together? 

“Okay.. so?” That’s right. Act chill, Sander, you can do this. Thank God I wasn’t looking at him, or I will be puking. 

“So... I tried to tell him about my crush for him, but I freaked out and ended up lying to him,” Robbe explains in a rush I barely got what he said. 

“Mm.. doesn’t sound good, but I think if he really is your best friend, go and explain it to him. Jens will understand.” He needs my advice, so I try my best. It wasn’t his fault that I am in love with him since forever. 

“Yes, well, that’s the problem. I told Jens about my crush, but I told him it was you.” Robbe’s words were like someone just threw a big cold cube of water to me.  

“Oh.” I manage to say. 

“Yeah, and know what? He just looked at me and said, ‘i already knew that Robbe’” Okay, time to face my gorgeous devil.

I let my pencil on the table and turn my chair to look at him. Robbe is lying on my bed, all curl up in the blankets. So adorable.     

“What does that mean?” I ask him when he kept silent. 

“I don’t know! But i... I freaked out more, and I may or may not have told him that we are together.” He says without looking at my eyes. 

“You did what?” I ask again, hoping I just had dreamed what he just said.   

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. Im so sorry, Sander.” Robbe apologizes and looks at me with his cute shy eyes. 

“It’s fine.” I find myself saying. “just text him, meet up and tell him the truth.” 

He frowns, “I don’t think that a good idea.” 

“I think its the only idea,” I say, frowning too. What is he thinking now?

“No, but the thing is that when I told him about us, he made this wried face.” Robbe tries to imitate it, but if you ask me, I don’t have any idea of what could possibly be. 

“A wried face?” I repeat waiting for him to explain it better. 

“Yes, like he was jealous or something,” He finally says with heart eyes and all of that shit. 

“Better for you then,” I say and try to come back to my art. But Robbe pulls the chair and sits on my lap, making me impossible to ignore him. And I can’t stop myself from hugging him. 

“Can you help me?” He says, looking deep into my eyes.  

“I thought I already did.” I try to play dumb like I didn’t have an idea of what he wants.

“No, I want you to pretend to be with me.” Yeep... that’s what I thought.

“No, no way,” There is no way I do this to me, to us.  

“Please, Sander,” He says, getting closer to my face and pouting. 

“No, Robbe, we won’t do that. If Jens is your friend and even more, if he is into you, the right thing to do is go there and tell him the truth.” I say, trying to convince him. 

“But what if I am wrong? What if I ruin our friendship?” Robbe asks while he starts to play with my hair.  

“That would mean Jens is a shitty friend,” I say like I didn’t think that already. 

“Please, Sander! It would be just a few parties, and if he does seem jealous, I will tell him everything,” He says, and at this point, I am not sure if it wouldn’t be better if Jens also has a crush on him. 

“And if he doesn’t?” I regret asking it the exact moment I see the spark of joy in Robbe’s eyes. He knows me too well. He knows that if he keeps pushing me a little more, he will win. 

“Then we broke up, and I tell him that we decide that it’s better if we just still friends,” Robbe says like he had it all already planned. And knowing him, maybe he did.  

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” I am loosing, and we both know it.   

“Pleaseeeeee.” He begs. 

“How are you going to find out if you are not even sure now?” I say, trying my last attempt to stop his craziness.   

“You will, you are amazing reading people.” He answers, and I hate that I can not fight his logic. 

“No, no, no, there’s a lot of things that could go wrong.” For example, me getting hurt and you getting with that Jens, boring as hell dude. 

Robbe put his most adorable puppy eyes and join our noses.  

“Pleaseeeeee... Sander, for me?” He whispers with his sweet baby voice. Aggh I can’t believe im gonna do this.

I close my eyes for a second before talking again “Okay just a few parties” Robbe’s face light up. 

“Yees! Thank you, thank you. You are the best Sander.” He says while he kisses me all over my face. And I, like the dumb boy that I am, melt entirely because of it. 

“Whatever.. but if after this we don’t get nothing we stop and you tell him the true okay?” I say firmly. A few parties won’t kill me, but if we do this for too long...    

“Yes, I promise,” Robbe says seriously.  

“Fine, now get out of my lap. I need to end my drawing.” I try to push him out, but he doesn’t move. 

Robbe hides his face on my neck. “But you are so cozy” He mewls on my ear and gets even more curl up on me. And there’s no way I’m going to say no to him. 

I sighed and take him by the hip. “God, the things I do for you. At least move to the side so I can use my hands.” 

“Yaaay!” Robbe says and moves so I can free my hands. 

We stay like this for at least an hour or two, with him sleeping on my lap while I finished my drawings. I hate how much easier it’s for me to concentrate when we are like this. I hate how his soft and slow breath against my skin relaxes my thoughts. How the weight on top of my body stops me from wanting to run. I usually don’t have problems with my art, but one thing was doing it for pleasure, and another was having all those projects in the same week. Having to uses techniques I don’t enjoy and have just days to finishes each one of them before starting the next one. All of that seems to disappear when Robbe sleeps on my lap while I work. And I hate that I love every second out of it. 

How do we start? Well, we actually have known each other forever. I am two years older than him, but it isn’t like I can remember those moments. We used to be neighbors, and our moms have been friends since day one. Basically, I always have been in Robbe’s life, and he has always been in mine. So being affectionate or touchy was our everyday life. We are best friends, and I am in love with him. Since when? Since always. I genuinely believe he is my soulmate, but Robbe is as blind as he can. And I don’t blame him, I didn’t find out about my feeling until I was sixteen and he was fourteen. 

It started the day he told me he was gay. He was telling me all about this boy he liked. I will never forget his name, Eliott, he was older like me, and Robbe had a massive crush on him. Maybe like the one he now has with Jens. To summarize, Robbe spent weeks telling me how good Eliott looked that day, how sweet Eliott was with him on their school break, and the list went on and on for weeks. And I hated Eliott every day a little more. 

I hated him until one magic afternoon. We were just like this, with me painting while Robbe slept on my lap when I realized that I didn’t hate the poor boy. I was jealous, jealous as fuck that Robbe was pining over someone else. It didn’t shock me or perturbed me. In fact, I couldn’t feel better. It was like something had finally come into place on my mind, heart, and soul. In the end, Eliott moved to Paris, and Robbe forgot about his love for him. As for me, I decided not to say anything to him because of the fear of losing him. But that was a long time ago. Robbe is now eighteen, I am twenty, and I can’t remember how many time I tried to tell him how I feel. But he just doesn’t listen to me, or he doesn’t want to listen to me. I actually gave up, and I resigned myself to spending my whole life as just his best friend. 

Maybe it was because of how we are around each other. Always so touchy and carefree. We sleep next to each other. We talk about everything, and when I say everything, I mean it. Yes, all the things that you are now thinking about? Yes, those things too. We spend weekends and holidays together, with only the two of us. When I moved to my studio, he practically moved with me. And yes, he… he sits on my lap or between my legs a lot. A lot meaning all the time we are together, and for Robbe, It never mattered if someone was around with us too. And for me? Well, I am not proud, but I will get whatever little love he is willing to give me. "

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Kisses 😘

#sobbe fanfic #fake dating au #friends to lovers #the things i do for you fic #srta pepa's fanfics

[cobythinks]

I Don’t Do Soulmates || A Sanders Sides Soulmate AU

A/N: This is a long one, so most of it is under the cut. Also, be sure to check out my MASTERLIST.

Summary: Roman doesn’t do soulmates, even though he has three. Dalton doesn’t do soulmates because he doesn’t have any.  Despite Roman’s best efforts, though, it feels like he’s destined to meet his soulmates one day. That doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Ships: Roceit, LoganxPattonxVirgil, platonic LAMP

WARNINGS: sympathetic Deceit, mentions of death, mentions of a car accident, food mention, swearing, depression, talk of self harm/suicidal thoughts. Nothing super explicit. Please stay safe!

Roman liked fairy tales. He always had. He loved the stories about the kings and the queens, knights, princesses that needed saving, evil stepmothers, fairy godmothers, dwarves, beasts, soulmates, and especially happy endings. When he was little, the bookshelves in his bedroom were dominated by various copies of the books and CD cases. His walls were covered in drawings of those stories - and sometimes stories of his own.

The day he found out that he was lucky enough to have three soulmates was the best day of his life. The thought that he could be a prince or a knight and protect someone who meant so much to him? That just fueled his creative energy into more. He’d write stories to his soulmates in bright red marker and pen, usually accompanied by illustrations.

Roman never once considered that most of his heroes had a tragic backstory. After all, that was just a story. Just something to make the stories more interesting. His life was fine - perfect even. He had three soulmates, more than anyone else he knew! Patton, who never seemed to use the same color of marker. Logan, who always used dark blue ballpoint pen. Virgil, who seemed to only own black and purple markers.

Even his parents only had each other, just one soulmate each. Unlike some antagonistic fairy tale parents, they were wonderful. They encouraged him in writing his stories - sloppily relayed to his soulmates across his arms and sometimes legs.

As far as fairytales go, Roman was sure he’d gotten the better end of the deal. He didn’t have a curse or a wicked stepmother, he had all the good.

At least… he did.

Roman was nine years old when it happened. It wasn’t anyone's fault, of course. Accidents like that happen all the time. It was January, and it was getting dark as they drove home from the movies on the backroads. No one could have seen the patch of black ice covering the road. No one could have stopped them from sliding, spinning off the road. No one, not even a prince from one of Roman’s stories, could have stopped his parents from dying.

After the crash, stricken with grief and confusion, Roman stopped writing to his soulmates. How was he supposed to protect people he’d never met if he couldn't even keep his own parents alive? He couldn't keep making them promises he’d never keep. So it would be best, he figured, to not. At least for a little while.

A little while turned into eight years.

“Roman, get your lazy ass out of bed!” Roman groaned, rolling out onto the floor. “Now! The bus will be here in five minutes and I am not driving you again!”

“Okay! God, Aunt Rina,” Roman muttered under his breath as he pulled himself standing, glancing with a frown at his mirror. He’d fallen asleep in his clothes again, not wanting to change and see the messages written there.

Not that he didn’t read them. Roman smiled sadly, pulling at his wrist to examine an intricate flower in black and purple. He read all the messages he got from his soulmates. He never replied. They didn’t deserve that. They’d stopped trying to directly contact him years ago, Roman wasn’t even sure if they remembered.

“ROMAN!”

“OKAY!” Roman yelled irritably, grabbing his backpack. One plus side of accidentally sleeping in his clothes and shoes, he could just leave his aunt's house as soon as he woke up. He hurried through the kitchen, avoiding looking at his aunt.

“Hey,” Roman sighed and lifted his head to look at her. She sighed. “Breakfast.” Roman caught the banana she threw at him and turned without replying, hurrying down the street to the bus stop. He stuck the banana in his backpack, halfheartedly planning to eat it at lunch.

His aunt wasn’t a bad person… they just didn’t get along. They never had, and it probably didn’t help that Roman had three soulmates he refused to contact. She had none. So, it was natural she’d be bitter and angry about it.

Roman slipped into the backseat of the bus and pulled up his sleeve, smiling fondly at the poem written in dark blue ink. Even after all these years, they used the same colors. Virgil with his purple and black - eternally edgy. Patton continued to supply different kinds of inks and colors - some complete with glitter. Roman sighed and pulled the sleeve back down, looking up moodily as someone else got on at the next spot.

He didn’t recognize them, they must be new. It was the beginning of a term. Roman sighed, watching as the kid looked around. Then they locked eyes, and for some god-forsaken reason he smiled and walked over, sitting across the aisle from Roman.

“Hey,” Roman grudgingly smiled. No reason to be rude - this guy hadn’t ever done anything to him. “You’re new, right?”

“Uh…” The kid shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I’m Dalton.”

“Roman.” Roman ran a hand through his hair. “Nice to meet you.”

“I guess.” Dalton sighed and shook his head. “You too.” Roman nodded, looking down as the pink Crayola marker traced the outline of a few hearts on the back of his hand. He shoved it into the pocket of his jacket, planning to check the finished design once he was alone.

“Are you in drama?” Dalton suddenly asked. Roman looked over in surprise, nodding.

“Uh.. yeah. How’d you know?”

“Your jacket…” Dalton shrugged sheepishly. Oh yeah, he was wearing the hoodie from the play last year. Roman smiled. “Is it hard? I kinda wanted to try out, but I’ve never really acted before…”

“You should do it,” Roman said, turning to face him better. “It’s really cool, and I think you’d do well.” Dalton frowned.

“You just met me.”

“Yeah,” Roman shrugged and looked at the floor. “Anyway, where’d you move from?”

“Oh, just a few towns over.” Dalton sighed. “I came to live with my mom and her new husband, and his kids. Long story.”

“Hey,” Roman held up his hands. “You don’t have to tell me, we’ve all got long stories.” Dalton smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Roman looked at the back of his hand and smiled fondly at it.

Four hearts in a group covered most of it, and Patton seemed to be highlighting them with all different colors. Purple, navy blue, and sky blue… and red. Roman looked away and put his hands back in his pockets. Dalton didn’t seem to have noticed, he had turned to look out the window as they pulled into the parking lot.

“Do you have your schedule?” Roman asked with a sigh, grabbing his bag and standing.

“Uh…” Dalton rifled through his pockets and pulled out a folded paper. Yeah. “Logan just graduated last year, he made me a map…”

“Cool.” Roman tried not to think about the poem on his arm when he heard the name. Logan was a common name. “He’s…”

“My step-brother,” Dalton said as they slowly made their way to the front. “Like I said,”

“Long story.” Roman grinned. “Who do you have for first period?”

“Mr. Corey,” Dalton frowned. “Math. why did I decide to have math in first- nevermind.”

“I have him second,” Roman said. Dalton nodded, then smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry I’ve kinda bugged you all morning, uh… but thanks.”

“It’s nothing,” Roman, threw an arm around the other kids' shoulders. “I’ll show you where Mr. Corey’s room is.”

“You sit alone?” Roman’s head jerked up from where he’d been reading Virgil’s to-do list. He yanked his sleeves down when he saw Dalton. Dalton slid down the wall next to him, pulling out a paper bag.

“Uh, yeah,” Roman shrugged. “Gotta fill the quota for teenage brooding, y’know?”

“But like, you don’t have any friends?” Dalton seemed completely surprised. Roman frowned.

“I mean…”

“You just seemed like the popular kind of jock guy. Theater guy.” He corrected as an afterthought, pulling out a sandwich.

“Well, not everything is obvious.” Roman sighed, then dramatically pouted. “Are you saying you aren’t my friend?”

“Hey-” Dalton frowned. “That’s not fair, dude, come on!” Roman laughed, shaking his head.

“I’m kidding. Geez. You don’t have to sit with me.”

“I want to,” Dalton shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich. Roman watched him for a moment, then remembered his own lunch. The projectile banana from Aunt Rina. He sighed and grudgingly pulled it out, Virgil’s handwriting flashing through his mind.

‘Remember to eat’ he was always writing things like that. ‘Water is actually important.’ Whether it was for himself, or for his soulmates, Roman didn’t know. And he certainly never planned on asking.

“What do you have after lunch?” Roman asked as he peeled the fruit.

“Creative Writing,” Dalton replied. “You?”

“Do you have Bird?” Roman asked, face lighting up. Dalton pulled out the wrinkled paper, transferring Dorito crumbs onto it, then nodded. “Well, that’s at least one class we both have.”

“You write?” Dalton’s face lit up. “That’s cool!”

“I mean…” Roman shrugged and rubbed the spot where Logan’s poem still remained on his skin. “Kindof. I like to, but I don’t know if I’m good.”

“I’m horrible,” Dalton said matter of factly. Roman frowned.

“I refuse to believe that.” he declared.

“I am!” Dalton laughed. “I mean… I might not be horrible. But I’m not good. I’m nothing like…” he trailed off and shook his head. “Logan hates it when I compare myself to him. I can’t help it. Did you know he graduated a year early? He’s the same age as me, but he’s already graduated!”

“...yeah?” Roman tried to ignore thoughts of scribbled conversations between his soulmates. Talking about grades and accelerated programs in that dark blue ink. “Well, you shouldn’t compare yourself.”

“You haven’t read his poems,” Dalton put his sandwich down.

“Do you have any poems of your own?” Roman asked. “I don’t care about Logan, I’ve never met him. I want to read yours.”

“You… you do?” Dalton stared at him for a moment before he sighed. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? You could stop talking to me, and we’ve only known each other a day. Wouldn’t be that devastating.”

“What, you don’t find me absolutely charming?” Roman grinned. Dalton rolled his eyes, then pulled out a notebook and flipped forward a few pages.

“Just don’t make fun of me, okay?”

“Would a prince charming ever make fun of someone like you?” Roman joked, accepting it. Dalton chuckled.

“Prince charming, huh?”

Roman didn’t respond, eyes skating over the words on Dalton’s page. He was good, which meant he had really bad self-esteem or that Logan guy was amazing. Maybe as amazing as the one who used blue ink. He quickly banished the thoughts and looked up, grinning.

“This is great! Mr. Bird is going to love you.” He declared, passing it back as the bell rang. Dalton smiled, shoving the notebook into his bag as fast as he could.

“I want to read some of yours eventually,” he declared as they stood up. Roman shook his head.

“I don’t write poetry. I write stories.”

“Well, I wanna read your story.”

“You will, we’re required to peer edit in Birds class anyway,” he explained.

“You know what I mean,” Dalton laughed anyway. “Show me the way, then, Prince Charming.”

Roman ignored the slight flush to his cheeks when Dalton said that and nodded, turning into the English hall. What right did he have to think about this kid when he ignored his own soulmates, anyway?

Roman sighed, staring down at his bare arms. Well, no sleeves. They were in no way bare. Virgil’s morning to-do list was faded, and at the moment being ‘bedazzled’ with glitter gel pens in gold and silver. On the other arm, the poem had grown. Roman knew it had been open-ended, but he hadn’t realized it was just unfinished.

It was beautiful.

Everything they did was beautiful. Their drawings, Logan’s poems, just the way they talked to each other. They did more when they were younger before they exchanged phone numbers and started talking that way. Roman closed his eyes to block out the marks.

He didn’t want to talk to them. He’d just let them down. It was best that he hadn’t let a pen touch his skin in years. It was best that he just… avoided it. He couldn't break a promise he didn’t make.

And then there was Dalton. Roman sighed, running his hands through his hair. Someone who didn’t think Roman was weird, who didn’t know he was a depressed orphan who spent a summer in a mental health facility because he wanted to see his parents again. Dalton didn’t know. And Roman didn’t know about his past, they didn’t know each other's long stories. That was the best part about being friends with Dalton. The past didn’t matter.

Roman opened his eyes again and stared at the hearts on the back of his hand. They were beautiful. What started out as some kind of doodle - probably because he got bored during school as always - had somehow become some kind of 3D masterpiece. It was beautiful.

And there were four hearts. Roman ran a thumb over it, smiling sadly. Patton remembered him. There was no other reason to draw four hearts. God, why did he have to care so much? Roman buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. Why did he have soulmates? How could he have one soulmate? Let alone three! It didn’t make any sense! It had never made any sense.

“Hey, your aunt said you were-” Roman’s head jerked up in surprise. Dalton stood awkwardly in the open door. “Uh… sorry. You left your phone in the drama room, and…”

“Th-thanks.” Roman got up, letting his hair fall over his eyes to try and disguise the tears. “Sorry, you didn’t have to.”

“It’s okay.” Dalton shrugged. “Uh… are you good? Sorry I barged in, your aunt said it’d be okay.”

“It’s fine.” Roman snapped, tossing his phone onto the bed. Dalton frowned. “Sorry, D, you just came over at a bad time.”

“Sorry about that,” Dalton said quickly.

“Don’t be.” Roman grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. “What’s up?”

“Logan’s being an ass.” Dalton declared, leaning against the doorway. Roman snickered, turning to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He met one of his soulmates last week and ever since then he’s been super weird. Now the guy’s at our house and… yeah.”

“Oh.” Roman pulled the sleeves of his jacket down to cover his hands. “Sorry about that, buddy.”

“It’s okay.” Damien walked over and sat on the bed next to him. “I don’t care about soulmates, the guy’s just annoying. He keeps trying to hug me.”

“Wow, what a horrible thing,” Roman said sarcastically. Dalton rolled his eyes.

“Okay, whatever.”

“I don’t do soulmates either,” Roman mumbled.

“Well, guess we can complain about Logan together.” Dalton laughed, bumping him with his shoulder. Roman chuckled, nodding.

“Sounds perfect. You can come complain about him, and I can listen and nod slowly and agree.” He declared.

“What, you don’t have anything to complain about?” Dalton asked skeptically. “Like your crazy aunt who eats chocolate covered bugs?” Roman groaned.

“I told her that was disgusting.”

“It’s okay. You can complain about the bugs, I’ll complain about the step-brother. It all evens out.”

“Well, you’re better at math than me so that sounds right.”

Logan and Patton met. Roman didn’t care. At least, he tried not to care. But how could he not care? Why did he have to keep getting their marks if he didn’t want them? Why did they happen to meet at the same time as Dalton’s stupid step-brother and his? Why did he have to be so certain that Dalton’s stupid step-brother was his soulmate?

Roman sighed, staring at the ceiling.

He doesn’t do soulmates. He’d decided that… well, he never necessarily decided that. He just didn’t want to talk to them. He didn’t want to meet them. He didn’t want to disappoint them. It was inevitable that if he contacted them, he’d disappoint them. Besides… he didn’t need a soulmate. He had a friend - for the first time in years. And that was fine.

If only there was a way to get rid of the marks.

He’d spent the past three hours googling it, and he had nothing. According to science, there was no way to get rid of the connection between soulmates. He was stuck with it, and it was stupid.

“How’s that ceiling looking?”

“Ugh, I’m trying to brood Dalton come on.” Roman sat up, frowning. “How long have you-”

“I didn’t want Rita to offer me another weird snack.” Dalton shrugged. “Anyway, what are you brooding about?”

“Nothing.” Roman barely got the words out before a pillow smacked him in the face. “Hey!”

“Cut the crap, you dummy,” Dalton demanded, holding the pillow threateningly. Roman squinted at him. “What the hell is going on with you? You’re lucky enough to have three soulmates and you claim you ‘don't do soulmates’? You’ve been googling all about them for days now.” Roman sat with his mouth partway open, surprised. “I rant to you about my crap. Can't you just… talk for fifteen minutes about whatever it is?”

“...I don’t get it.”

“What’s wrong, dumbass.”

Roman sighed, shaking his head.

“How do you know I have three soulmates?” he asked. Dalton rolled his eyes and pulled Roman’s jacket off.

“Three handwritings,” he said softly. “Different colors. Come on, I’m not an idiot. Logan has two, and… wait.” Roman tried to pull his arm away but Dalton pulled it closer. “What the hell?”

“D, listen, I-”

“This is Logan’s handwriting. And Patton’s. What the hell is going on, Roman?” Dalton shoved Roman’s arm and got up, folding his arms. “My step-brother is one of your soulmates?”

“No.” Roman pulled his jacket back on and stood up. “I mean… yeah. It doesn’t matter, though. I told you before that I don’t do-”

“You don’t do soulmates, I get it!” Dalton yelled. “I don’t either. Know why? I don’t have any soulmates! You have three! I drew on my arms all the time until I was fifteen just trying to get someone to respond! You’re an idiot!”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Roman spread his hands miserably. “I never asked for soulmates… I don’t want to meet them! I haven’t drawn on my skin in years because I don’t care. Okay?” Dalton sighed, burying his face in his hands.

“I just… when you first said you didn’t do soulmates…I thought you were like me. I thought, that maybe, we could be actual friends. But…”

“I don’t have soulmates.” Roman insisted. Dalton looked up at him, eyes narrowed. “Okay? Just… I just have whatever they draw. On my skin. Like soulmates. But they aren’t. Please stop yelling at me.”

Dalton just looked at him, and Roman looked back.

“Logan has been studying soulmates for years.” Dalton finally said. “If there is anyone who can get rid of them, it would be him. I’ll ask.”

“Wait- really?” Roman stared at him. He couldn't tell if the feeling in his chest was sadness or elation. It was just something. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Dalton scoffed. “When you get Logan talking, he never stops.”

“Thanks.” Roman wrapped his friend in a hug and Dalton laughed, returning it. “You’re the best.”

“Yeah well, you better believe it. I’m gonna have to listen to all Logan’s crap to find this out for you.” Dalton laughed.

“I owe you,” Roman said enthusiastically. “I will get you five boxes of chocolate covered crickets.”

“If you do that, I’m gonna cut your hair off,” Dalton said, shoving Roman away playfully. Roman frowned but nodded.

“Okay, no crickets. I’ll think of something!”

“But before I go back to my house, where I’ll be forced to hear many many things that are irrelevant to the question I’ll ask, let’s go do something actual people do.”

“Everyone stares at the ceiling all day,” Roman said, waving a hand dismissively. Dalton rolled his eyes.

“Your aunt said she’d bring us snacks in fifteen minutes and if we aren’t gone I’m jumping out the window.” He said, turning to the door.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Roman chuckled. “Bye Aunt Rina!”

“Don’t get hit by a car.”

“So, you’re saying that hypothetically, you want to know how to cut off a soulmate bond?” Logan asked, adjusting his glasses.

“Hypothetically,” Dalton said, smiling winningly. “I figured you’d know, you’re almost an expert.”

“D…” Logan shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out for ages, too.” Dalton frowned.

“You just wanna know everything, cuz you’re an ass.” Logan sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Look, Dalton, I want to know the same thing you do. But scientifically, biologically, even spiritually which is a load of shit but I still looked into it, there should be no reason you stop having a connection with your soulmate.” Logan shook his head. “Why do you care? You don’t have a soulmate!” Dalton scowled, stepping back.

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I-”

“Shut up, you fu-”

“Dalton, I’m sorry!” Logan yelled, grabbing his arm. “I know you’re upset about that, and I get it. But no one can control soulmates. Anomalies happen, and that’s why Ro- and that’s why no one understands it.” Dalton frowned.

“I was asking for a friend,” he said, pulling away from his step-brother’s hands. “Because unlike everyone else on earth, he knows that soulmates are stupid!” Dalton stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Logan had been about to say a name, and he knew which one. How did he know who Roman was if they’d never met? If Roman hadn’t written to them in years? Dalton hurried down the street toward Roman’s house. He had to figure this out, he had to figure this out before he got in too deep. Before he got his hopes up.

“Hey Dalton,” Rina said when he walked through the door. “I didn’t hear you knock.”

“Where’s Roman?”

“Where do you think?” Dalton ran down the hall and slammed open the door.

“Holy shit-” Roman scrambled to get up from where he sat on the floor. “Dalton?”

“What are you-” Dalton’s eyes flew immediately to Roman’s hands. He scowled. “Roman!”

“What?” Roman asked bitterly, tossing the pocketknife onto his bed.

“What the hell are you doing!” Dalton stormed over and grabbed Roman’s arms, glaring at the handwriting scrawled across it in purple. The sentence severed in several places, and Dalton glared up at his friend.

“Listen, you can’t do this.”

“Go away.”

“No.” Dalton shoved Roman into the desk chair and pulled open a drawer, rifling through it. Of course, Roman had a stash of bandages in there too. “How many times do I have to tell you-you're-”

“An idiot! I know!” Roman snapped. “I’m sorry, okay? I just hate seeing Virgil’s stupid…” he shook his head and Dalton sighed. “Nevermind.”

“Logan knows your fucking name,” Dalton said, pressing the bandages over Roman’s arm.

“What are you talking about?”

“I asked him about the soulmate thing,” Dalton said, walking to the bed to pick up the knife. “And he got really upset. Logan doesn’t get upset. Apparently, he’s researched soulmates for a specific reason that he didn’t specifically tell me because he stopped himself halfway through saying ‘Roman’.”

“Yeah right.”

“So what’s your deal?”

“I just…” Roman shook his head and Dalton raised an eyebrow. “I can never talk to them. Okay?”

“...okay.” Dalton sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Please don’t do it again, Roman.”

“I’m sorry,” Roman muttered, rubbing the bandages. “I just…usually, no one cares.”

“Well I do, so stop being…” Dalton took a deep breath. “Please.”

“Okay, whatever.” Roman pulled on his jacket, concealing both the bandages and the Muriel covering his right arm.

Dalton leaned against his desk, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make things worse. He was always making things worse. But now, this time, he really didn’t want to make things worse.

“Why do you care?” Roman asked softly. Dalton sighed and looked up at him, offering a small smile.

“Cuz I’m in love with you, dumbass.”

Somehow, Roman was less bothered by the marks on his skin than ever. He barely noticed them, most of the time. He kept his arms covered - though sometimes their doodles would creep onto his hands, but he didn’t mind. After all, who needed a soulmate when you had a boyfriend who wasn’t fated to love you anyway? It was still difficult because Roman did care about the people writing on his arms. But he didn’t have to be involved with them, right? He could still laugh at the puns Patton might scribble in green marker, he could still use Virgil’s to-do list as his own if he was having trouble. He could still read Logan’s poetry, though it wasn’t as good as Dalton’s.

“We’re out of milk.” Roman sighed, slamming the fridge shut.

“I live a block away, let’s just make cereal there,” Dalton said, standing up with his bowl. Roman snickered.

“Do you have milk? What if we walk all the way there and you guys are out too?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Dalton rolled his eyes.

“We always have milk cuz I’m the only one that drinks it. My step-dad is lactose intolerant.”

“Let’s go.” Roman grabbed his own bowl and Dalton chuckled. “We’re going out, Aunt Rina!”

“Have fun and don’t murder anyone!” Rina yelled back. Roman rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but grin as he and Dalton walked down the sidewalk. He grabbed Dalton’s hand, ignoring his boyfriend’s protests.

“It’s fine,” he promised. Dalton raised an eyebrow. Roman grinned. “We’re just two soulless guys who happen to be dating, right?” Dalton rolled his eyes.

“Right.”

Dalton led the way up the front steps and into the kitchen, where he put the bowl down and pulled a gallon of milk from the fridge.

“Tada! I was right.”

“I didn’t doubt you,” Roman scoffed. Dalton laughed, pouring his milk before doing Roman’s as well. “Aw, for me? You’re too kind.”

“Dalton?” both looked up when someone poked their head into the room. He was tall and pale, with black hair and glasses. Roman knew it was Logan, he had a purple grocery list on his left arm. “I thought you were going to be at your boyfriend’s house.”

“We were out of milk,” Roman said, lifting his bowl. Logan stared at him, lips pursed.

“Don't worry, geez.” Dalton waved a hand. “We aren’t gonna bug you guys. I told you soulmates are stupid.”

“Good.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “We’ll be in the living room, you can manage to stay out of that room can’t you?”

“Yeah.” Dalton looked at Roman and rolled his eyes, Roman chuckled. Logan sighed and left, shaking his head. “...that’s Logan. I told you he was an ass.”

“I still believe you,” Roman promised. “You’re stuck with me, understand?”

“Thank god.” Roman glanced toward the hallway when the doorbell rang, but Logan answered it almost immediately. Dalton chuckled, elbowing him as they heard a chipper voice start to ramble. Roman wasn’t really listening until he heard him say;

“And this is Virgil!” Roman stiffened, and Dalton gently leaned his head on Roman’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he whispered softly. Roman frowned. What exactly was he referring to? He opened his mouth to ask, but then the owner of that chipper voice bounced into the kitchen.

“Hey Dalton!” he said, beaming. “Oh! And Dalton’s handsome friend!”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Dalton said, narrowing his eyes. Patton laughed - it had to be Patton.

“Awe! Hi, I’m Patton!” yep, it was Patton alright. Roman smiled, nodding politely.

“Patton, Dalton promised not to bug us, and-” Logan sighed as he walked into see Patton trying to hug both Roman and Dalton at the same time.

Roman pushed him away, feeling his heart race. This was not a good time to be at Dalton’s house, obviously. Shit, he never wanted to meet his soulmates and now all three of them happened to be here.

“Oh, sorry!” Patton chuckled, stepping back.

“It’s fine,” Roman said in a soft voice. Dalton took his hand, smiling supportively. Roman frowned. What was with him right now?

“Well, I guess you've met Patton.” Logan sighed. “This is Virgil, he’s our... other soulmate.” He walked in, followed by a short teenager with purple hair and a black jacket. Just like Virgil would most definitely look.

“This is my boyfriend,” Dalton said as he squeezed Roman’s hand. “Roman.” Roman’s head swiveled and he narrowed his eyes. Dalton just smiled back sadly. The other three just stood there for a moment.

“...that’s a nice name.” Patton finally said. “I’ve always liked it, anyway.” Roman self consciously rubbed his arm through his jacket sleeve, knowing that a purple grocery list was on his arm just like the other three.

“Yeah, well,” Roman shrugged. What else could he say? He looked back at Dalton, who was obviously trying to convey silently that he should do something. But Roman had no idea what it might be.

“Erm, anyway,” Logan chuckled nervously as Dalton’s eyes flicked between Roman and the group of others. Roman scowled. Dalton could not be serious. They were dating for crying out loud! “Nice to meet you, Roman. Dalton’s boyfriend.”

“Dude.” Dalton hissed. Roman glared at him.

“Let’s just pop in here,” Patton was obviously forcing a smile as they all went to the living room. Roman turned to Dalton.

“What the hell!” he hissed. “Dalton, what was that!”

“Roman, they’re your-” Roman raised an eyebrow and Dalton lowered his voice. “They’re your soulmates. You should at least tell them.”

“No, are you crazy?” Roman shook his head. “I can’t. I told you that a month ago, D!”

“What did they ever do to you?” Dalton demanded. “I just want you to make sure you’re happy, okay! I care about you!”

“Then why did you try that?” Roman demanded.

“Soulmates are real, Roman. They’re a thing. We’re really close, but I know you wish you could be with them! I’ve always known!”

“No, I don’t.” Roman insisted. Dalton frowned, folding his arms.

“Why?”

“They’d be disappointed,” Roman said, repeating the lie he’d told himself for years. Dalton snorted. “They probably don’t even remember me and-”

“You know they do. You saw their faces when I said your name!”

“Well, I don’t care!” Roman yelled, pushing Dalton away from him. Dalton stared at him, eyes filled with hurt. “You don’t get it, Dalton. I can’t risk letting them down!”

“How can you let them down if they don’t even know you?”

“I just will. It’s inevitable.” Roman sighed, burying his face in his hands. Neither of them seemed to realize they’d been shouting, and that it had attracted the others back to the doorway. “Besides, I’m as good as dead to them. I haven’t let ink or paint touch my skin since I was nine years old.”

“Roman-”

“I’m serious! You said it didn’t matter! You said that we didn’t need soulmates, so why are you doing this?”

“ROMAN!” Dalton grabbed his wrist and shook his head, pointing to the doorway. Roman turned, eyes widening. All three of them stood there, looks of shock on their faces. Roman pulled away from Dalton and shoved past them, refusing to make eye contact. He tried to say something to his boyfriend as he left, but it was like his voice stopped working. So he just left, and as soon as he left he started running to get as far away from there as he could.

“Roman!” Dalton went to run after him but Logan grabbed his arm.

“Dalton, what’s going on?”

“Let go, you fucking asshole!” Dalton yelled, karate chopping his stepbrother in the arm.

“Language!” Patton said indignantly. Dalton rolled his eyes.

“Dalton!” Logan tightened his hold and Dalton sighed, glaring at him. “Tell me right now what you know about this.” Dalton closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“I can’t.”

“It’s obvious. Let him go.” Virgil said, pulling Logan away. “Your step-brother is dating our soulmate. Duh.”

“...why? How? What?!” Logan’s voice rose in volume with every word. “Dalton, how long have you known that?”

“Since the universe was created,” Dalton said sarcastically. “Can I go? Roman’s upset.”

“At you.” Logan pointed out. Dalton glared at him.

“Hey, why don’t we all calm down?” Patton said softly, stepping between them. “Dalton? Can you please talk to us?”

“Roman was my friend,” Dalton said softly. “Then he was my boyfriend. I’d seen all Logan’s marks often enough to figure it out. So we talked. Roman…” he sighed, closing his eyes. “Whatever you guys did when you were kids made him hate you or something.”

“What? We didn’t do anything!” Virgil snapped. “He’s the one who just disappeared.”

“I don’t know!” Dalton shoved past Logan, shaking his head. “But he’s my boyfriend, not yours! So I’m going to go find him to make sure he’s okay!” he took off, running to the street. He couldn't see Roman. He had no idea which way Roman went.

“Dalton, please!” Logan said from the porch. Dalton didn’t turn around to flip the bird, then decided Roman wouldn’t want to be found, so he sprinted away from both their houses. He turned left, running up the street. “Dalton!” Dalton kept running, trying to hold back tears. He had to find Roman before he did something stupid. God… what if Roman was going to do something stupid?

Dalton didn’t stop when Logan’s car pulled up next to him. Where would Roman go? He wouldn’t go back to his aunts' house, he hated it there. He might have run to the high school to hang at the theater… maybe?

“Dalton!” the car pulled in front of him and Dalton stumbled to a halt, glaring at the people inside.

“What?”

“Let us help you.” Patton leaned out the window. “We can find him faster driving, okay? We aren’t going to steal your boyfriend.” Dalton narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah right.”

“We just want to make sure Roman’s okay.” Virgil piped up, opening the back door. “Get in, and tell us where he could be.” Why Dalton trusted Virgil more, he wasn’t sure. But he clambered into Logan’s car anyway.

“I don’t really know,” he confessed. “When Roman’s upset we usually just go for a walk. But he’s mad at me this time. I’d check the high school theater.”

“On it.” Logan hit the gas and drove toward the high school. “While we’re driving, can you please explain why Roman hates us?”

“I don’t know. It’s not my business,” Dalton shrugged. “But he doesn’t hate you. He just… doesn’t want to meet you. He doesn’t like the idea of soulmates.”

“Really?” Patton asked sadly. “When we were kids he seemed so excited about us, and then one day he just stopped writing. He used to write stories to us, like fairy tales.”

“I don’t know!” Dalton snapped, glaring at him. “We just need to find him before he…” oh god. Please don’t let Roman try anything.

Roman stared blankly down at his arms, where yellow writing appeared a few minutes ago. At first, he’d thought it was Patton. But it wasn’t. It was one of Dalton’s poems. He must be writing on one of the others. Roman reached up and brushed tears out of his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. He’d been about to cut again - but he couldn't break one of Dalton’s poems. Was that why he was doing this? Classic. Why did Dalton care, anyway? How could he care if he didn’t have to, according to fate?

“Stupid Dalton,” Roman muttered, then felt horrible. Dalton wasn't stupid, he was Roman’s best friend. More than that, his boyfriend. So why did he do what he did? Why did he tell them he was the fourth soulmate? It wasn’t fair. Roman didn’t want this. He didn’t want anything.

“Roman!” Roman’s head jerked up and he stared in surprise as Dalton tumbled out of a car, sprinting across the parking lot. “What are you doing here?”

“...sitting.” Roman sighed and looked around the strip mall.

How did he end up here, of all places? Dalton fell to his knees next to him and grabbed Roman’s arms, inspecting them worriedly. There was nothing but the healing scars from the month before. Roman sighed sadly.

“I’m so sorry.” Dalton suddenly pulled him into a tight hug. Roman’s eyes widened, but he returned it. “I know you didn’t want to meet them, but I thought…. I thought it might make you happy if you just tried. I just want you to be happy.”

“It’s okay.” Roman sighed softly. “I… I don’t mind meeting them. But I still love you… you know?”

“You do?” Dalton sat back and grinned, wiping tears from his cheeks. “Really?”

“Of course! You’re stuck with me.” Roman repeated, then looked over Dalton’s shoulder to where his three soulmates were standing near the car. He lowered his voice. “Do they hate me?”

“No one hates you.” Dalton scoffed, sitting against the wall like he had that first day in the cafeteria. “They’re just worried. Virgil let me write to you, y’know.” Roman looked at his arms, nodding.

“Thanks. I’ve always loved your poems.”

“Do you want to talk to them at all?” Dalton asked softly. Roman scowled.

“I’m not gonna break up with you unless you want me to.” he insisted. “So yeah, I can talk to them. And you don’t have to worry. Alright?”

“Sounds good.” Dalton looked over at the others and nodded. The three of them walked over and sat down, completing a circle on the sidewalk.

“Hi,” Roman said softly, staring at his hands.

“It’s so good to meet you!” Patton said, beaming. Roman smiled.

“You gave us quite a scare,” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Dalton was very upset.”

“Like you weren’t.” Virgil scoffed, elbowing him. “Anyway, Roman. I’m just glad you’re okay. I always wondered what happened to you.”

“Oh, that,” Roman sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t mean to vanish… I just took a break from writing and never… finished the break.”

“That’s alright,” Logan said matter of factly. “Statistically, only sixty percent of soulmates ever meet or actually enter any kind of relationship. Half of those people remain only platonic soulmates.” Roman smiled.

“Well good, cuz I’m taken,” he said, elbowing Dalton. Dalton elbowed him back, harder. “Hey!”

“You started it.” Dalton shrugged. Roman chuckled.

“Anyway, I’m sorry for vanishing. Just got in a funk.”

“Well,” Logan stood and brushed off his pants. “Would you like a ride home? You walked quite far.”

“Sure.” they all stood now, and Dalton took Roman’s hand as they walked to Logan’s car. “Thanks, really.”

“No thanks needed,” Logan waved a hand. “Just don’t hurt Dalton or I will run you over with this instead of giving you a ride.” Roman’s eyes widened.

“Okay, geez.”

“Wow, you care about me?” Dalton laughed as they got in.

“Of course I do.” Logan scoffed. “Just because I am, as you so eloquently put it, ‘an ass’ does not mean I don’t care about you.”

“Good to know,” Dalton muttered, leaning his head on Roman’s shoulder. “Hey, why don’t we go hang out at your house Roman? I bet your aunt has some good bugs to serve as snacks.”

“Oh my god.” Roman glared at him. “You know those are disgusting.”

“I don’t want to know what you’re talking about.” Virgil declared, shaking his head. Dalton laughed, smirking up at Roman. Roman smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Maybe things would turn out okay after all.

The End

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides soulmate au #sanders sides AU #soulmate au #thomas sanders #ts #roman #deceit #roceit #Logan #patton #virgil #loganxpattonxvirgil #platonic lamp #tw #tw angst #tw depression #tw self harm mention #death mention #thanks for reading! #<3

[justanothersecretfangirl]

His

A/N: This is set in an AU where you stop aging when you turn 18 until you meet your soulmate so you can live out your lives together, which I am sure you’ve heard of. It’s set sometime in the future, but the exact time doesn’t really matter. I know AG Artists is in NY, and I know there are a couple of other things that aren’t exactly 100% accurate, but it’s an AU. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Reader

Warnings: it’s very fluffy? All the fluff

Word Count: 5103 😯 (holy cheese nips. what?)

Y/N was perfectly fine being alone. When all her friends were out dating and going to clubs, she was studying at the most prestigious university in London. They found their soulmates and most of them are in their 70s or 80s by now. You hadn’t consciously tried to avoid finding your soulmate, but it just hadn’t happened, and you honestly didn’t mind. There was so much pressure to find your perfect match and you would much rather stay in and watch movies and eat popcorn than go out on dates. Besides, it seemed that all the good guys were taken.

You were currently sat on the couch, watching your guilty pleasure, Entertainment Tonight. Another celebrity was in rehab. A senator woke up 20 years into being married and realized she hadn’t aged a day, while her husband looks 20 years older. Another snobby pop star said something stupid. The usual. Towards the end of the broadcast, the reporter was standing in front of Island Records in downtown Hollywood.

“And our last story of the night, folks. Andrew Gertler is looking for a Head of Marketing Operations at his company, AG Artists. AG Artists is, most notably, the team that manages International Pop Sensation Shawn Mendes. Their former Head of Marketing, Justin Sterling, was let go following allegations of sexual misconduct last week. Gertler has stated they are looking for something pretty specific, but if you are looking for a job, head over to their website for more information. Back to you in the studio.” The screen flashed back to the studio, but you were thinking about what I would take to move to Hollywood.

Your entire life was in London, and had been for almost 100 years, but there wasn’t much left for you here. Your friends all had their own lives, and, if you were being honest with yourself, you hadn’t had friends in a long time. You bought your flat a few years ago, and you were the Marketing Director of a company headquartered here in London. But you lost passion for it a long time ago. You sighed, but opened your laptop to look for apartments in LA. They were expensive, but not any more so than your current flat in downtown London. You flipped over to the AG Artists website, and navigated to the careers page. The first one listed was for the Head of Marketing Operations, so you clicked on it. Reading through, it seemed like a fairly typical Ops level job, and the pay was a little increase from what you were making now.

You filled out the application, and attached your resume. You looked down at the clock and realized it was about midnight, so you decided to turn in. You closed your laptop and walked it over to your charger. You decided to make a cup of herbal tea before bed, then brought it with you to bed. You snuggled into your bed, sipping your tea as you read a couple chapters of your book. You fell asleep with your book on your chest.

The next morning, your alarm woke you from your dreams. You stretched comically, before walking over to the bathroom in your room. You took a quick shower before quickly drying and curling your hair. It was Friday, and you were so very excited that it was. Your walk to the office was quick, but it was mid January, so it was cold. You were bundled up, but still walked pretty quick to get back to the warmth.

Your work day went fine, but you were surprised when you received an international call about the time you were getting ready to leave.

“Hello?”

“Is this Y/N Y/L/N?” the pleasant sounding woman asked on the other side of the line.

“It is,” you responded kindly.

“My name is Elizabeth Sanders. I am Andrew Gertler’s personal assistant. We received your resumes last night and would like to set up a video interview with you.” You were surprised by the quick turnaround, but with the time difference, you realized they had probably received your application before they left the office yesterday.

“That would be great. I would love to talk to Mr. Gertler about the position.”

“Great!” she said, “What time would work best for you? I know you’re located in London, and that is 9 hours ahead of us.”

“Any time Monday works great for me.”

“How does 10 AM our time work for you?” You calculated it would be 8 PM your time.

“That works great. I look forward to speaking with him on Monday.”

“Thank you so much for your time! I will send you over an email with some information, and the link for the video conference.” You smiled to yourself.

“Thank you so much for your time.”

“You’re so welcome,” she said before saying goodbye and hanging up.

You finished gathering up your belongings and said goodbye to your coworkers. You made the short walk back to your flat. The warmth and cozy feeling of your apartment was a welcome feeling.

Your weekend went by smoothly. You went to the grocery store and ran a few other errands. Soon, it was Monday and you were jittery all day. You ended up leaving work early, unable to focus on anything for long enough to get much done. You walked home and, knowing you were video chatting with Andrew later, stayed in your work clothes. You did pull on a King’s College hoodie while you were making and eating dinner.

Too soon, the time came when you were to log into the video call. You were rushing to get your computer hooked up and loaded onto the video conference page. You plugged your earphones into your computer at 7:58, just as Andrew logged in. You smiled when his face came into focus.

“Hi Y/N!” You smiled at him.

“Hello Mr. Gertler,” you waved awkwardly, immediately kicking yourself.

“Please, call me Andrew. I am pretty casual, and I don’t want this to be awkward. I just want to get to know you better.” You smiled at him.

“That sounds great.”

“So, tell me about yourself.” You hated this question, but you had come up with an answer a long time ago.

“Well, I was born and raised right here in and around London. Hence the accent,” you smiled and Andrew chuckled. “I did both my secondary and postsecondary studies at King’s College here in London and I have since gone back and did a few certifications after my Masters degree in visual communication and digital marketing. I am currently the Artistic Director for a London based marketing company, and I have worked in a variety of industries, including medical and legal. While I have really enjoyed learning and growing here in London, I’d really love to dig into an industry that I haven’t worked in, and in a country I have only visited. I bring a lot of experience, and a unique perspective of the foreign markets that I believe will be an asset to your team.” You finished your monologue and noticed Andrew was nodding.

“I do see you have all the qualifications we are looking for. You certainly have the  most experience of any of our applicants. And, as you know, we need to fill this position very quickly. I have only one additional question. Where do you see yourself in 5 years?” You immediately knew he was asking indirectly about the fact that you had not found your soulmate.

“Well, Andrew, I am no psychic, so I don't know for sure. But I hope to be working at a job I enjoy and that pushes and challenges me. I am always searching for more and that usually means advancing myself in some way, whether it is in my job, or in my education.” Andrew was grinning at you.

“When can you be here?” You smiled at him and grinned.

It all happened so fast after that. It didn’t take much to find a replacement at work, and you were so happy with the choice to promote from within. The young girl who replaced you had worked very hard since she was hired and you were happy she was getting her chance.

The only thing that didn’t happen was an apartment, but your flat in London sold much, much quicker than you anticipated. So you packed up your entire life, reserved a storage unit in LA and hopped on a plane.

Part of the benefits you had discussed with Andrew was a stipend to help with your moving expenses and you figured it would cover a few weeks in a hotel while you tried to find an apartment or condo. You got settled into your suite in an LA hotel the night before you were to report to the office. Jet lag was still very much a problem and you were dreading getting up in the morning but forced yourself to sleep.

You were up and ready long before you needed to be, and you were increasingly grateful for the availability in the hotel just a block from the office. The weather in LA was so different from the weather in London, and you just put on a cardigan before your walk.

You walked into the lobby of the building and were greeted by the receptionist. You smiled at her, explaining who you were.

“Oh! We are all so excited for you to be here. Follow me and I’ll take you up to Andrew’s office!” the chatty woman said then scurried down the hallway behind her desk to the elevator. She pushed the up arrow.

“How are you liking LA?” she asked. You smiled at her.

“I am loving the weather. I left 1 degree weather in London to come here to 15 degree weather.” She looked at you like you had grown a second head. You realized it must have been the difference between Celcius and Farenheit. “Oh, that’s Celsius. I keep forgetting I’m in America.” You giggle and she laughs out loud.

“That makes more sense! The weather here must be much different than the weather there though. Do you have snow?”

“Not too much,” you said as the door opened and dinged. “Usually just have freezing rain.” The receptionist shuddered.

“That sounds cold.”

“It definitely is.”

“I love your accent,” she said with a smile.

“Thank you,” you replied. “I rarely remember I sound different, but I have gotten so many comments on it.” You laugh. “I guess that’s what happens when you’ve always lived around people who sound just like you.” The door slid open and you followed the receptionist out into a large room with a few tables. People were sitting at them, clicking away on keyboards or listening to their computers through large headphones. You followed the woman through the room to an office with glass walls. She knocked quietly on the open door and a man you recognized as Andrew looked up. He smiled at you and popped out of his seat.

“Y/N! We are so excited you’re here!” He walked over to you and shook your hand. “Thank you so much for bringing her up here, Savannah.” The receptionist, Savannah, smiled and walked out of the office.

“So, how was your trip out here?” Andrew asked, motioning you to the chair near his desk.

“It was pretty crazy, but I’m here and that’s what is important,” you said with a smile.

“That’s great to hear,” Andrew said as his phone dinged. He glanced down at his phone. “So, we’re going to jump right in today. We have a meeting this morning. But before, let me show you to your office and I’ll let you get settled.” He stood up and looked back down at his desk quickly. “Oh! I almost forgot.” He opened one of the drawers in his desk. He pulled out a box with an iPhone and a box with an macbook. “These are yours. We have already loaded most everything you’ll need on each. Your work email and calendar are both synced onto there, as well as all the phone numbers you’ll need. Work with Savannah to get you a case you’ll like for each.” He handed them to you as you followed him out of his office. You followed him a couple doors down and to another glass walled office. He opened the door for you and let you walk in before him. Along one wall was a long desk with 2 computers and drawers. The other wall had an L shaped desk with the workspace facing out towards the common area. You walked over and sat your computer and phone down on the desk.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, smiling to Andrew.

“Thank Elizabeth for that. She designed your office. We like white and clean lines here. As we had discussed on the phone, we are definitely a teamwork agency. We thought you might like to have a space where your team can work with you if you need to. They each have desks out there,” he said pointing out to the shared space, “but we thought it might nice to have a space you can work together as well.”

“That is brilliant!” you said, your British showing through. He chuckled.

“Okay, take some time to get set up. We have a meeting in 20 minutes in the main conference room.” He pointed out toward a conference room the size of half of the floor. You nodded to him.

“We are really glad you’re here, Y/N,” he said before turning and walking out.

You looked around your beautiful office before sitting down behind your desk. You thought about where you might put some of your decorations and things from home, but they were currently buried in a storage unit downtown. You chuckled to yourself before opening your phone and computer. You figured you’d need to at least know how to log in and open some sort of note taking app for your meeting. You were able to get them open and looked up just as a woman approached the door.

“Hi! I’m Elizabeth,” the woman said walking toward you, shaking your hand. You smiled at her.

“Y/N,’ you said, and she laughed.

“I could have guessed that much,” she said and you laughed. “I just came to make sure you had everything you needed before the meeting. Everyone is very excited to meet you and hear your thoughts.” You smiled at her, and looked around the office.

“I could use a water bottle? Is there a vending machine or something I can buy one from real quick?” She chuckled at you, but walked around your desk. Below the desk on the farthest side was a small refrigerator, which she opened and handed you a water bottle. You laughed as you took it from her, thanking her.

“If you need anything else, let me know. I go to Costco once a week and I can pick up anything you need.” You smiled at her, nodding. She smiled back. “It’s time to head in there. Ready?” You nodded to her, grabbing your water bottle and laptop, deciding to leave your new phone on the desk, as you hadn’t gotten it turned on yet. You followed her out of your office, which you noticed already had your name etched on the door, and across the room to the conference room. Andrew joined up with you as you approached the door. He opened the door for you, letting you and Elizabeth in the room before he walked in himself. You glanced around the table, not recognizing anyone, but that wasn’t surprising.

Andrew gestured you to the table, letting you know you can take a seat anywhere. You sat down on the side facing outside, the beautiful wall of windows showing the gorgeous LA skyline. You opened your laptop, opening Word and putting the date at the top of the page. After a few minutes, Andrew smiled and stood up. He approached a man who had just walked in, hugging him and patting him on the back. You could only see a head of curls behind Andrew’s head, but as he turned around to the room you immediately recognized him. Shawn Mendes was standing in front of you, a goofy grin on his face. He sauntered over to a seat opposite you and sat down, still chatting with Andrew.

Andrew sat back down in his chair.

“Let’s get started here,” he said. “First order of business. I want everyone to meet Y/N Y/L/N. She is our new Head of Marketing Operations. You all know we have been anxiously awaiting her jump across the pond and we are so excited she’s finally here.” Andrew smiled at you, and you were really trying to keep your attention on him and not on the curly headed superstar across the table from you. “Go ahead and introduce yourself, Y/N.”

“Oh, I, uh, I’m from London,” you said with a chuckle and everyone in the room laughed, “I have been in marketing for quite a while and I look forward to helping out and moving forward. I already know I have a lot to bring to the table and I hope to be able to learn from all of you and add my own insights,” you said with a smile, glancing around the room, finally making eye contact with smooth brown ones across the table from yours. A blush spread across his face and you looked away shyly, hoping one was not on your own.

“Lets go around and say our name and our job around here.” Andrew said, smiling. “I’ll start. I’m Andrew. I sorta run the place.” The room erupts with laughter. Everyone around the room introduced who they were and soon it was Shawn’s turn.

“I’m Shawn. I’m just a rando they let in from off the street.” The room erupted into laughter again. You realized Andrew wasn’t kidding when he said they were a casual office. Laughing and everyone seemed to be in tshirts and jeans. You immediately felt overdressed.

“Anyone have any questions for Y/N before we start?” Andrew looked around the room. Shawn cleared his throat across the table from you.

“How did you find an apartment?” he asked. “I looked for almost a year before I found anything.” The room laughed again, and you smiled at him.

“I, uh, I didn’t. I’m staying that the hotel around the corner until I can find something. I do think I saw Keira Knightley this morning though!” Everyone was laughing again and you smiled, glancing down at the screen in front of you.

“Okay, now let’s dive in,” Andrew said and started talking about Shawn’s new album. You learned it was about 75% recorded and that they had begun planning our marketing strategy. Justin had left a document that you stumbled upon on the laptop that Elizabeth must have made sure you had. You told yourself that you needed to thank her for that later. You opened it up and scanned through it. You made a few notes and then it was your turn to discuss.

“I think we need to change our approach entirely.” The room went quiet, everyone, including Shawn, looking at you with wide eyes. You chuckled. “Now I have your attention, eh?” There were a few chuckles around the room. “Okay, let’s look at the numbers. SM3 did good in most markets. We know the marketing strategy was successful. But we are also looking at a demographic of specifically girls who are reaching 18 and we all know what happens then. We need to market to a demographic of women who are looking for something in life and those who haven’t found it yet. Like me,” you finish with a quiet voice. Looking around you see a couple people nodding. It is Andrew that speaks up first.

“You know what, you’re right. Shawn is growing up and his music is growing up, so why shouldn’t our marketing strategy grow up?” The rest of the meeting went well, everyone leaving on board with your plan to mature the marketing.

“At the end of the day, they may look 18, but we don’t know how old they really are,” you had said and that seemed to strike a chord.

The next few days flew by with meetings and you were more busy than you had ever been. But you loved it. Shawn was in office almost every day, as they were really trying to nail down this plan. He spent quite a bit of time in your office, with your team working away at the table along the side wall.

As you were walking back to your office during your second week with AG Artists, a tall floppy haired boy ran up beside you. You glanced up at him with a smile.

“What can I do for you, Shawn?” you asked as you opened the door to your office. You went in and sat your laptop on your desk by your iPhone. You looked over at him, who had settled into the chair across the desk from you. You wanted to laugh at how comically large he seemed, but kept it in.

“It’s more like what I can do for you,” he said, his hands in front of him akin to the Godfather. You laughed this time.

“And what can you do for me, Mr. Mendes?” you asked, sitting down in your own chair.

“Well, I just so happen to have an extra room in my condo. And I simply cannot let a damsel in distress live in a hotel. It’s not feasible long term.” He looked at you sincerely, but you felt uneasy.

“Well, what is in it for you?” you asked, knowing there had to be a catch.

“I’ve been looking for a roommate. I am gone for long periods of time while I’m touring, and I would rather someone was coming and going than it to just sit there empty.” It did seem like a sound reason for needing a roommate.

“I would have to pay rent,” you said quietly, more to yourself than anything.

“You know it’s already paid for, Y/N…” he trailed off.

“So? I’d be living in your house. You get rent.”

“You can pay for the internet or something. Groceries.” You looked at him inquisitively. It was getting tiring living in a hotel, not having any of your things. Plus, it was expensive.

“Fine,” you said.

“Fine?” he responded. “Is that a yes?”

“I’m paying you something, Shawn. And I’ll be in charge of groceries.” Shawn jumped up and ran to give you a hug. You giggle but hugged the huge child back.

“I’ll send a car by tonight after work. We’ll go get your stuff and you can be sleeping in your own bed this evening.” You laugh at his enthusiasm, but that did sound really nice. You nodded to him and laughed when he waved and jogged out of the room, shouting behind him that he was late for a meeting with Andrew. You laughed as he tripped over nothing and almost fell on his face. You sat back down at your desk, shooting a text to Andrew asking if you could leave a bit early that afternoon. You had gotten much of your to do list done and wanted to pack up all your stuff at the hotel before Shawn helped you move into his house. He responded that that would be fine and to have fun moving that evening. Shawn must have already told him.

The next few days were a whirlwind of working and moving and you were finally moved into the condo Shawn owned in LA. He explained that once Andrew and AG Artists moved to Hollywood, he decided it would be a good idea to get a condo here. He still owned his condo in Toronto and made you promise you’d let him show you around Toronto sometime.

The domestic life was easy when Shawn was around. You’d gotten used to working around each other in the kitchen making dinner. You had your own spots on the couch and Shawn had finally figured out which tea you enjoyed in the morning and which was your night time tea. Neither of you mentioned the multiple times you had fallen asleep on the couch and woken up with your head on his lap or vice versa, and you tried to always have breakfast done for him before he left for recording, knowing the boy wouldn’t eat if you didn’t feed him.

A few months after you moved in, you were standing in the bathroom looking in the mirror. You had felt under the weather the past few days, so decided that the dark circles under your eyes and wrinkles in your forehead were from lack of sleep. You toyed with the idea of calling in sick that day, but you were getting closer to Shawn’s album being ready and it was important you nailed down a few things. You pulled on a sweatshirt that you realized was Shawn’s, but didn’t care. Your jeans were just loose enough to be super comfortable and your boots were lined with fur and were arguably the most comfortable thing you had ever put on your feet.

You walked downstairs to the kitchen to see a cup of tea on the counter. It was still steaming, so you knew Shawn was around somewhere. You sat down on the stool and took a sip of your tea, letting the warmth travel down your throat and warm you up from the inside out. You almost spit out your mouth full of tea when you heard a scream come from upstairs. You took off running up the stairs two at a time, pushing Shawn’s door open, looking around frantically. When you didn’t see anyone in the room, you ran into the bathroom, praying in the back of your mind that he was dressed, though it wouldn’t be the first time you had accidentally walked in on him.

He was standing in front of the mirror, fully dressed, to your intense relief, and his eyes were wide.

“I have a grey hair! A grey hair, Y/N!” He turned to you, his eyes wide, a single hair between his fingers. You stared at him dumbfounded. You slowly walked over to him, before punching him very hard in the upper arm. You yelped in pain, sure that had hurt you more than it hurt him. You cradled your hand.

“What was that for?” Shawn bellowed, rubbing his arm with his opposite hand.

“I thought someone was in our house, Shawn! You can’t just scream bloody freaking murder because you found a grey hair! That’s not cool!” you screamed back at him. He was still rubbing his arm, but his face softened.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N,” he said, slowly approaching before wrapping you in a hug. You snuggled into his chest for a moment before crying. “Hey, Y/N/N,” Shawn said softly, “what’s the matter?”

“I am wrinkly!” you bellowed into his chest, and you could hear him stifle a laugh. You lightly smacked his chest before giggling yourself. “It’s so stupid, I know. But I’ve been 18 for so long, why am I wrinkly?” you said through dramatic sobs. Suddenly, a thought occurred to you. “Why am I aging?” you whispered. You tears stopped all at once. You looked up at Shawn with wide eyes. “Why am I aging?” you repeated. He slowly reached up to his head, then his eyes went as wide as yours. You jumped when he started laughing.

“We’re aging, Y/N,” he said through belly laughs. You stared at him, before it dawned on you. You were aging together. “We’re aging!” he yelled out, his voice echoing through the bathroom.

“We’re aging!” you scream out, laughs racking through your own body now. He wrapped you in an enthusiastic hug. After a few minutes, you both calmed down.

“We’re aging, Y/N,” Shawn whispered, his lips against your hair.

“We’re aging, Shawn,” you mumbled into his chest. You were quietly crying again, your tears making the front of his shirt wet. He pulled you away from him, looking into your eyes.

“I love you, Y/N. I have for a long time. I love you, and we are going to grow old together.” His voice was soft and sincere.

“I love you too, Shawn. I love you,” you said just as quietly. Shawn looked from your eyes to your lips, before slowly leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own softly. You pulled away, looking up at him.

“I love you,” he said softly, pulling you back into him, kissing your hair softly.

“I am going to be late to work,” you mumble into his chest.

“Marry me,” he says softly. You pull away from him and look at him.

“Are you sure?” you ask softly.

“Of course I’m sure, Y/N! If you weren’t my soulmate, I was going to ask anyways and we were going to reign supreme immortals forever!” You laughed through the tears that had started falling down your face.

“Yes, Shawn,” you said with a smile.

“Yes?” he questioned.

“Yes!” you repeated. “Yes, of course, Shawn. Yes a million times Shawn!” He laughed out loud, wrapped you in a hug and spun you around before setting you back down. You smiled at him before standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. He immediately melted into the kiss and wrapped his arms around your waist. You pulled away, a smile on your face.

“Lets go to work?” you asked.

“In my sweatshirt?” he questioned, a smirk on his face. You looked down at the hoodie. You looked back up at him and just nodded, a grin on your face. “Good,” he said. “Now everyone will know you’re mine.” You laugh.

“I’ve been yours for a long time, Shawn,” you said softly, pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

Forever tag list: @embracehappy @atlas-of-a-human-soul @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @super-fire-breathing-girl @yourvoiceislikearose

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn fic #shawn fluff #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn #justanothershawngirl

[the-softest-puffball]

Stuck In My Head

I meant to post this awhile ago... whoops

This is basically a soulmate au where the songs your soulmate is singing are stuck in your head

Also happy second anniversary Sanders Sides! I’ve only been in this fandom for a few months but I absolutely adore the show and just all of it! 

Pairing: Royality

Warnings: None, I think

Word Count: 1388

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Patton hummed a familiar tune as he walked out into the main living space of his dorm. He twirled to the beat in his head as a large smile graced his features.

Today was already a pleasant day. He had woken up naturally with sunlight filtering through the blinds on his window, and the birds were singing a beautiful song. His cat onesie kept him cozy and warm and he got to sleep in for a couple minutes, as it was a Saturday.

And, of course, he had awakened to a Disney song stuck in his head.

He imagined his soulmate, singing early in the morning, with most likely the voice of an angel. He sighed dreamily before realizing he wasn’t the only one in the room.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t notice you there, Virge!” Patton exclaimed when he noticed his roomate, Virgil, sitting on the couch, a cup of coffee held in his hand. “Good morning!”

“Mornin’,” Virgil mumbled tiredly, giving a small wave before continuing to watch the TV show that was playing in front of him. Patton was about to sit next to him when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, him pulling it out to check it.

Roman: i’m going to ihop for breakfast, wanna come? i want to tell you all about the AMAZING new role i have!!!!!!

Patton: Haha, sure! Meet in 30?

Roman: of course, see you there!!!!!!

Patton smiled even wider, somehow, Virgil looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Did Roman text you?” Virgil asked. Patton nodded. “What’d he say?”

“He asked if I would like to join him for breakfast at IHOP! So, I’m heading there in 30 minutes, because of course I said yes!” Patton replied.

“So, basically your crush asked you out on a breakfast date?” Virgil said slyly, Patton blushing.

“What, no! It’s just a friend hangout, and besides, he is definitely not my soulmate, so I shouldn’t have such a huge crush on him!” Patton said while slipping on a pastel blue sweater over top his shirt.

“You don’t even know who your soulmate is, so he could be,” Virgil said, putting his empty coffee cup on the end table next to him.

“No way, Roman couldn’t be mine! Why would fate put us together?”

“I dunno, but it still could be possible. Now, go get to your breakfast date.” Virgil pulled out his phone and started to scroll through Tumblr.

“It’s not a date!”

“Sure it is.”

“Alright, see you later, kiddo!” Patton slipped the last of his boots on before waving goodbye and leaving, Virgil rolling his eyes as he did so.  

Patton walked down the hall of the dormitory, him skipping with delight. Now he had a song stuck in his head that he heard once before, when he went to Roman’s musical practice, but he somehow knew all of the lyrics.

It was weird how many of the songs overlapped with Roman’s personality and the things he enjoyed, but Patton never thought much of it before.

Virgil’s comment about Roman possibly being his soulmate though had made him thinking. What if Roman was his soulmate?

Patton shook his head. No, that was ridiculous. The most wonderful, handsome, courageous man he had ever seen could not have been possibly chosen for him.

Then again, Roman sang a lot, and Patton always had a song stuck in his head. The songs were all Disney or musical songs as well, and Roman loved theater and Disney. So, maybe…

Patton’s train of thought had been interrupted when he heard the transit bus in the distance, him starting to run. He managed to just barely make it to the bus stop before it left.

He quickly got on and sat down, recognizing the person next to him.      

“Hey Logan!” Patton said, startling Logan from his reading.

“Oh, good morning, Patton,” He replied, putting his bookmark into his book and closing it.

“Whatcha doing on the bus this early?” Patton asked.

“I am going to my job, of course. I must make money somehow.” Logan checked his watch as he spoke, sighing when he read the time.

“Don’t you need breakfast?”

“I already had breakfast this morning with Virgil, he was surprisingly up and in the cafeteria when I had entered, so I thought I might as well give him some company before he inevitably locks himself in your dorm.”

“Aww, that’s cute!”

“It was just an act of friendship is all.”

“I’m heading to IHOP to have breakfast with Roman!” Patton clapped his hands together excitedly.

“Ah, well, good luck on your little… gathering.” Logan continued to read, a small smug smile he made when he knew something someone else didn’t. Patton shrugged it off.

He was bouncing with excitement, a large grin on his face. The bus reached the next bus stop, some people getting off with Patton. Patton walked the few blocks he needed to get to IHOP, seeing Roman already waiting outside.

“There you are! I feel like I’ve been waiting here forever!” Roman exclaimed once he noticed Patton, Patton running up to him.

“Well, I’m here now!” Patton said, Roman laughing before leading them inside.

They entered and ordered, both taking a seat after. Roman talked about his new role, Patton watching and nodding along.

The food was ready, so Roman grabbed them from the counter and brought them back. They were apparently more hungry than they thought, and half of their meals were gone in about 5 minutes.

“This is delicious!” Patton said after finishing his second pancake, Roman nodding.

“Even though we are poor college kids!” Roman joked, them both laughing. “Though one day my acting career will make me have so many riches!”

“I am sure that will happen, Roman! You are very talented!” Patton complimented, Roman doing a small bow.

“Why of course, I do have a wondrous voice, if I say so myself.” Roman had a confident grin, holding his hand to his chest and puffing his chest out a bit. He then proceeded to sing a bit of the solo he had for the play.

Patton gasped. The same part Roman sang was now stuck in his head.

“Wait, sing again,” Patton urged, him finally noticing these small details.

Roman sang again, Patton dropping his fork in surprise. It clattered against his plate, him covering his mouth with both of his hands to quiet the large gasp that escaped him.

“What is it?” Roman looked concerned now, Patton eyes widening.

“You’re-you-you’re my soulmate,” He managed to squeak out. Roman looked shocked.

“Sing something,” Roman asked, Patton singing a quiet nursery rhyme, as it was the first thing that came to his mind. Roman then started to laugh.

“Logan was right, I am completely oblivious!” He spoke in between his wheezes. Patton then started to laugh as well. “I can’t believe after 4 years we didn’t know!”

They laughed until Patton realized something. His crush of 2 years was his soulmate the entire time. He began to blush bright red, squealing as he did so.

“Patton, you good?” Roman asked.

“I’vejusthadthishugecrushonyoufor2yearsandican’tevenbelieveyouaractuallymysoulmate,” Patton spoke quickly as he hid his face in his hands, almost two fast for Roman to understand. Roman then laughed again, even louder this time.

“Patton, I’ve had a crush on you ever since I first met you,” Roman explained after getting his laughter out, looking at Patton with a smile. Patton slowly looked back up at him.

“Really?” He asked, Roman nodding. Patton squeaked, covering his face again.

“Well, I’m finished with my breakfast, do you wanna walk around town for a bit? I found this arcade that was amazing the last time I went there, but it would be more amazing with you,” Roman asked with a sly wink, Patton blushing even more.

“Well, yeah, of course!” Patton answered, standing up with his plate. They put them in the tray holder on the way out, Patton waving goodbye to the employees.

They got outside, Roman smiling before taking Patton’s hand.

“I’m glad my soulmate was you,” He said, Patton nodding.

“I’m glad it was too.”

Roman’s eyes then twinkled with excitement, beginning to lead them to the arcade.

So, maybe Patton was a bit unaware, but that right now didn’t matter, for it was all worth it for this moment.

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

Hope you enjoyed!

#my writing #royality #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #soulmate au #stuck in my head #liz writes

[vexation-virgil]

Colors (Part 3)

Fandom: Sanders Sides (Soulmate AU) Pairings: Prinxiety, mentions of Logicality Warnings: General angst, cursing(Again, if there is anything that needs tagged, let me know!) Summary: Everyone knows when you meet your soulmate, the world is supposed to fill with color for the both of you. Unfortunately for Roman Patrick, that is not always the case.

Taglist(!!): @pendragonqueen09

A/N: I very much appreciate everyone who has read this, like, seriously, can’t even tell you how much I appreciate you guys. AHHH! Here, have some more.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8 PART 9 PART 10  PART 11 PART 12

The next couple of weeks seemed to drag on for Roman. After about a week of hoping that maybe the color would just go away and his brain had just tricked him or hoping that Virgil would just speak up and tell him he saw it too, he tried to make himself believe he was one-sided. Which, might have been easier if Virgil would at least talk to him so that he could figure out why this would’ve happened in the first place. The guy sank into his seat before class even started and never took off his headphones, practically shut himself off from the whole world.

The one time Virgil did speak to him it was to tell him to “stop fucking staring” which… Roman should have really expected after a couple weeks in class where he couldn’t keep his eyes off of him, especially after he had colored his hair in the third week of school. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around why someone who hadn’t met their soulmate yet had dyed their hair purple. It wasn’t as if he could see what he was looking like, so why did it matter so much?

Roman had moved to the front of the class after that incident and just forced himself to focus and give Virgil the space that he seemed to want so badly. It was surprisingly difficult when all he wanted to do was be near him and get to know him and figure out just what went wrong.

Patton was being more observant of his behavior, lately, too, and was constantly asking him if he was alright and Roman was getting so close to cracking. But then the other would start to worry and that would cause his brother to worry and then his parents would want to know and Roman couldn’t handle disappointing them like that, not again. So, he started spending a lot of time in his room to keep that from happening, citing extensive amounts of homework as the reason despite the fact that he spent more time staring at the ceiling or watching Disney movies than actually doing his homework.

It got easier to hide away from his family when the play began.  Unsurprisingly, Roman had won the lead in the show as the Prince Charming in the story which meant he got to throw himself into it and not worry about anything else. Rehearsals took up several hours in his afternoon and then memorizing his lines took up his time once he returned home and he was able to explain away his time unlike the weeks leading up to the auditions. And it was a great distraction. He got to pretend to be someone else for hours at a time and forget about his own problems. This had been a coping mechanism for years, but it felt more anchoring now than it ever had before.

Of course, this was until he decided to stay late with the costuming crew one night to help them sew together some costumes in the workshop. It was all going swimmingly - the people there were his friends, after all. Most of them were still unbonded, so it wasn’t something that typically came up in their conversations unless they needed someone to pick out colors. One of the girls had asked him to pop out and grab one of the pieces the crew had been painting so that she could match the colors on the banner for the prince’s sash (a dashing red, if Roman remembered correctly) and he had made it halfway to the back of the workshop before he crashed into another person wandering through the different set pieces.

“Excuse me, could you please watch where you’re--” Roman stopped himself half-way through his sentence with his hands freezing where they were brushing off his chest as his eyes landed on the person in front of him. Virgil, in a deep maroon shirt splattered with different streaks of paint. “What are you doing here?” Virgil gave him an unimpressed look, rolling his eyes. “I get the strangest feeling you feel like you own the place,” he grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest. Great to know Roman left that sort of impression with his soulmate. “I work with the crew sometimes after school when my dad works late. Better than being home by myself and I used to do it all the time at my old school. I’d ask what you’re doing but I’m sure I can guess. You’re the theatre guy. Too dramatic not to be.”

Roman did his level best to not be offended by the annoyed tone in Virgil’s voice, but placed a hand over his heart, all the same, to play into his dramatics. “Why I’m afraid you hardly know me and it is not your place to make those judgments,” Roman told him, flipping his hair and grinning at Virgil, only to receive another eye roll from him. “Though, it’s not far from the truth. I do quite enjoy the theatre and this has been my thing since I was in the sixth grade. You could say I’m a pretty good actor.”

“Yeah, can you act like a normal guy?” Virgil asked with a raised brow.

Roman snorted and shook his head, perking up with a, “now, why would I do that?”

“That is a great question. Now, if you don’t mind, creepy staring guy, I was looking for a hammer. So I’m just going to…”

Virgil started to slip past him and Roman’s hand flew out to grab his wrist before he was able to get too far away. The crazed look his soulmate gave him had him immediately dropping his hand and blushing as he took a step back. “Look. I don’t want to have the reputation of ‘creepy staring guy’ with you. It is just that you are very striking, what with the eyeshadow. Perhaps, you and I could be friends and I could prove that I’m not creepy” Roman suggested with a small shrug, trying for nonchalant with his heart thudding against his chest at even the idea of spending any amount of time with the other boy.

Virgil looked him up and down as he took a silent moment to think over the offer, the mere seconds feeling like hours as Roman tried to contain the hope he was feeling. “Fine,” Virgil agreed and Roman released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “But it’s going to be here, at the school, and we’re not doing anything too crazy. Mostly because I want to be able to get away pretty quickly if you’re actually insane. I still need someone to review my paper for lit on the last short story we read. I’ll do yours if you do mine? We could meet in the library tomorrow after play rehearsal.”

Roman smiled widely and nodded, face hurting from how wide his smile had grown. “Thank you for the second chance, Headphones. Tomorrow after rehearsal, in the library,” he repeated. Virgil returned the smile with one of his own before he walked away from Roman, this time without interruption.

When Roman finally returned to the costume shop to questions about why it took him so long, the smile still hadn’t fallen from his face.

#colors #my fics #color #prinxiety #logicality #even though it's hardly even mentioned this time #roman sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #nervous pt 3 #less nervous than on beverage tho

[drake-the-incubus]

Current Update (Projects and Goals)

Currently Writing:

- A few drabbles (working on them, I promise)

- Exit (Transcribing The End is hard and I HATE that part)

- A Porkness runs Soda him (Ahaha, 10K chapter story, needs an outline still, 2 years now :( )

- @mspaint-eddsworld (I have caught up on writing, I’m happy)

- Trust No One (Matthew, Eddins, and Tord chapters left)

Drawing Projects:

- Practicing (Kinda need to relearn it)

- A few nature drawings

- Ambitious no line drawing project

- Working on making a nice j-anime style with varying head shapes

- Practicing colour theory

- Hopping in on inktober/goretober hopefully

Video Projects:

- Recording Overcooked with Jinxx

- Recording Horror Games (Easier after December)

Personal Goals:

- Shower more than like once every two months

- Eat More

- Exercise more

- Make a baller Halloween idea

- Find something to do as a form of productivity

- Get back to a decent mastery of what I enjoy

- Get back into reading

- Conform to the schedule of writing each Friday

- Toss aside the notion of needing to force my current projects

- Working on talking to friends at least once a month

- Find ways to not go through burnout and understand self a bit more

- Dungeons and Dragons campaign with @darkkara

- Setting a better schedule than last minute thinking

Future Writing Projects:

- Soulmate au, with a twist, Gen fic Angel + Demon AU (Eddsworld)

- Character Analyzation, Hisoka Morow, Murderer AU, I want to kill my soul

- Anthology Series on Dark Eddsworld, Exploring darker more depraved shit

- Special Eddsworld Comics (Halloween Special, Christmas Special, Dealing with Addiction)

- A Drake Sides thing, encompassing my mental health similarly to Sander’s Sides

- A DnD campaign

Completed Goals so far:

- I eat daily

- I’ve found relaxing more mindful games to play

- I’ve written 4 one shots to completion, 5 chapters worth in total

- I’ve diversified my writing style

- I’ve learned to communicate better

- I’ve done adulting

- I’ve done laundry

- I’ve drawn things

- I’m proud of what I’ve written

- I recorded Videos

- Involved myself with friends more

- Outside more often

- I exercise almost every night

- I’ve come more to terms with myself

- Got my boyfriend’s ID and working on care card

- Been more mindful of my spending

- Found a safer way to avoid smoking

Side note: This is a personal use thing, to write them down and have them here as an accountability thing, that I stride to keep to, and nothing more. It’s not a forced thing I must keep- else I’d of finished Exit and A Porkness Runs Soda Him like, earlier this year and just would have posted. I wouldn’t have old projects glaring at me from my drafts and projects I never finished.

This also gives me time to think out, what I want to do and what I need to do. Figuring what worked and what didn’t.

Generally speaking, this is a personal reminder post, but it’s because I want to keep up with life. And because I enjoy writing- and when I’m good at it, art- and I’ll endeavour to keep that up.

#chatter.txt #incubus does an important #incubus does an update #incubus does a speak #goals and projects