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[not-so-innocent-bi-sander]

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[trigonomicon]

Behold my dragon comics!!!

[melled42]

got woken up in the middle of the night. have a 2 story tall god dealing with kittens climbing him

[gutsfunk]

Cough. May I humbly request... just ond more?... may I says. Uh. Uhmm. Can I- Robam... roman... my boy.... tits out. Sorry sorry sorry. Roman tits... please

magma doodle :3c where are your clothes roman sanders

[cesaray]

[jiminysjournal]

Always reblog the neutral face of displeasure.

[theemotionmachine]

[cyberbullyinc]

[emiliusthegreat]

I had previously seen the bottom image with zero context like 5 times before finally finding the context post and that’s why I love tumblr.

[ode-on-a-grecian-butt]

[not-so-innocent-bi-sander]

Drawn to You - Ch. 4

Previous Chapter - Masterlist AO3

Virgil turned his head over to his nightstand when his phone vibrated, raising an eyebrow. He only knew one other person who was ever awake at sunrise, and if Roman wanted his opinion on whatever he was making for breakfast that morning, he could have just knocked.

He reached over and grabbed his phone, shifting his laptop off his lap. Tumblr would still be there once he dealt with whatever this was. Just like it had been for the last several hours.

Oh, it was from Janus. 

He’d always assumed Janus slept like a normal person. Weird.

Not Poisonous: you up?

Anxious Mess: …i dont like where this is going

Not Poisonous: oh my god shut up. I need you to meet me for coffee asap

Anxious Mess: uh why

Not Poisonous: its important. I’ll buy just meet me at Uncommon Grounds

Virgil stared at the message for a long moment.

Important was a dangerous word to throw around before coffee.

But. 

Free coffee. 

He dragged himself out of bed.

Anxious Mess: fine but this better be good

He threw on his hoodie and slipped on his shoes. His pajamas were generic enough to pass for clothes. Also, he didn’t care. 

As he grabbed his wallet and stuffed it into his pocket, he pulled out his phone to send a quick text to his roommates.

Chemically Imbalanced: hey dont count on me for breakfast

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: Are you eating something else? Or just not getting out of bed? 

Chemically Imbalanced: relax. meeting a friend for coffee

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: Ok, cool. Just making sure. You need to eat something.

Chemically Imbalanced: i know, mom

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: Forgive me for wanting you to live.

Rat King: hah he wants you to live. sucks to suck

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: I also make you eat breakfast, you scrawny disaster. What are you on about?

Virgil just slipped his phone in his pocket. He’d let the twins deal with whatever that was going to be amongst themselves.

There were a handful of perks to living with Roman. Since Roman was there on a football scholarship, the university wanted to do whatever they could to keep him playing. One of those incentives was paid-for housing just off school grounds. He had no idea how he’d swung a three bedroom, but charisma was one of those things Virgil had been told could get someone pretty far. 

Anyway. He had a sweet living situation. He was rooming with friends he’d had since he was little - so he didn’t have to live with strangers. And he really never had to cook since Roman seemed to need to eat about a million calories and forty pounds of protein at every meal - so he just always made enough for all three of them. 

At this exact moment, though, the best part was only being about a three-minute walk from the coffee shop.

Virgil arrived and immediately saw Janus, already sitting in a corner at a table with two drinks on it. 

Nice.

He headed over and dropped himself into the seat beside his friend, picking up the cup that wasn’t directly in front of Janus and getting a sip.

“Finally.” Janus muttered.

Virgil pulled the cup from his lips with an exaggerated ahhh. “You texted me literally six minutes ago.” He lazily looked over at him.

“It felt like an eternity.” Janus mumbled, picking up his phone and scrolling through it.

Virgil rolled his eyes. These dramatics were far more Roman than Janus.

“Whatever. What’s the huge important thing?” Virgil asked, settling back in his chair.

“I need you to tell me I’m not going crazy.” Janus held his phone out to him.

“You want me to lie to you?” Virgil asked, smirking as he took the phone.

Janus rolled his eyes. “Just look at the damn screen.” Virgil huffed a laugh and looked down. His eyes quickly widened. 

“...Why are you in this comic strip?” He looked up at Janus. “I don’t know! But that’s me, right? There’s no way it isn’t.” Janus exclaimed, gesturing uncharacteristically wildly.

“...Are you okay? You’re being weird.”

“Yes, I'm fine.”

Virgil gave him a look.

“...I didn’t sleep last night, I was reading this comic.” Janus muttered.

Virgil leaned his head back in an understanding nod. “That explains it. …Anyway, yeah. This is totally you.” Virgil went back to looking at the comic, scrolling through the pages Janus had saved.

“...This is super you, actually. This guy even does little shit you do all the time.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” Virgil leaned closer, holding the phone between them. “Right here. You do this thing with your pens and paintbrushes where you hold them in your teeth like this. You do it all the time.”

Janus huffed, looking away and crossing his arms. “No I don’t.”

Virgil scrolled back a couple pages, showing Janus a scene with the character standing with his arms crossed and looking away indignantly. Janus just muttered. “...Shut up.” 

“I didn’t say anything that time.” Virgil smirked. “But yeah, anyway. Why are you in this comic? Who’s drawing it?” “I don’t know! I was just reading it and suddenly I was in it. I need to figure out who’s doing it.” 

“...Why?” Virgil asked. “Like, do you think they’re stalking you or something?” “No, nothing like that. Just…” Janus looked away again. “I don’t know. …Wouldn’t you want to know?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow and went back to scrolling. 

“...They’re super into you, aren’t they? And you want to know who it is.” 

“What? I didn’t say that!” Janus whipped his head back toward him.

“You didn’t have to.” Virgil kept scanning. “But the way they draw you… No one in their right mind would take the time to draw every stitch in your stupidly fancy sweater. They either are into you or want to turn your skin into a coat.”

Janus rolled his eyes. “...Why did I even bring this to you?”

“Dunno.” Virgil got another sip of his coffee. “Because you knew I’d be awake?” 

Janus tilted his head to the side in half shrug. “Probably.”

They sat quietly for a moment. 

“It’s not you, right?” Janus blurted out.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “No? I can’t draw.” “You could’ve been holding out on me, I don’t know.” Janus shrugged, taking his phone back. “And you’re also the only person I know who might be willing to turn someone into a coat.”

Virgil laughed. “Nah, I know a guy who’s way more likely to do that.”

“...Do you think it’s him?” Janus asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Definitely not. I don’t know if he can draw, but he doesn’t have the patience for that kind of thing. And he’s seeing someone, anyway.” Virgil trailed off, thinking. “…Though, the two of them working together could probably actually turn you into a coat.”

“...I’m getting a little too desensitized to this concept.” Janus said, taking a sip of coffee.

“Skill issue.” Virgil shrugged. “What does that even mean in this context?” “No idea. Anyway, send me the link to that comic, I want to see what other gay hijinks not-Janus gets up to.”

“...His name is Lysander.” Janus mumbled, texting Virgil the link.

“Oh my god, that's somehow so much gayer.” Virgil laughed.

“Whatever. …I’m going to go home and get some sleep. Let me know if you magically figure it out, or something.” Janus sighed.

“K. Thanks for the coffee.” Virgil said, still smiling in his amusement. “Yeah, you totally earned it.” Janus muttered, standing up.

“Damn right I did.” Virgil popped up out of his seat and snagged his cup from the table. “See you later.” “See you.” 

Virgil and Janus left the coffee shop in opposite directions, Virgil getting back home in basically no time and making his way back inside. Roman was standing in the kitchen, clad in nothing but pajama bottoms. He peered over his shoulder when he heard the door. 

“...Okay, I’m definitely still making you breakfast. You were gone for like ten minutes.” “Fiiine.” Virgil groaned, throwing himself down on the couch. “What are you making, anyway?”

“High-protein omelettes and greek yogurt parfaits with granola. And smoothies.” “High-protein meaning what exactly?” 

“Two cheeses, three meats, four veggies.” 

“You remember neither of us plays sports, right?” Remus called from the doorway.

“Yes, but you also could still both fit in one leg of my pants.” Roman deadpanned, not turning from the stove.

“Sounds more like a you problem.” Remus retorted, leaning against the wall. 

Roman finally turned to look at his twin. “I should not have seventy pounds on you. We have the same frame!” “Maybe you should fuc-”

Virgil tuned them out, going back to his phone.

Roman had long been making sure that neither his brother nor their longtime friend either starved or lived solely on junk. Virgil had always considered himself lanky, but that was before the twins had their final growth spurt during high school. They were tall, and while it was clear that Roman found being gangly unacceptable, Remus had no such qualms

He’d been Slenderman for Halloween pretty much every single year since he’d found the right morphsuit, and he reveled in it.

It was actually kind of funny how dissimilar the twins were. If someone didn’t already know it, it would have been easy to miss that they were even related, let alone identical. 

Roman was all muscle, clean-shaven, well-kempt, and knew how to dress himself. He was suave and charismatic.

Remus was spindly, scruffy, and wore seemingly whatever clothes he happened to find. His expressions were wild and his eyes were always open just a little too wide.

They were the same height and had the same nose and eyes, but beyond that, it would have been simple to assume they had nothing to do with one another.

A plate landed on the coffee table in front of Virgil, snapping him back to the present. 

“Breakfast.” Roman said simply, turning back for the kitchen.

“Thanks, Mom.” Virgil called.

“You’re welcome.”

Breakfast was honestly pretty good - probably because Roman wanted to make sure Virgil and Remus would actually eat it. Virgil ate slowly, so he was still picking at the last few bites while he scrolled on his phone long after the twins had returned to their rooms.

Virgil generally did the dishes and cleaned up the common areas - wanting to contribute at least a bit - but after a meal as filling as that one, he was going to need a moment to rest on the couch before he managed to get himself up and moving. 

It was as good a time as any to check out that webcomic Janus had shown him. He wasn’t planning on moving anyway. 

He hadn’t noticed that he’d gotten fairly sucked into it, but apparently he had - seeing as the world’s least conspicuous person managed to sneak up on.

“Whatcha readin’?” Virgil looked up to see Remus leaning over the back of the couch, resting on his arms and looking at him with mild curiosity. 

“Oh, just this webcomic my friend showed me earlier.” He held his phone up a bit higher so Remus could see. “Apparently whoever is drawing it has been putting him in it.” “What?” Remus asked, taking the phone.

“Yeah. He dresses like he’s out of the twenties or something, and now there’s a character in this thing that looks exactly like him. Down to a specific scar on his face and everything.” Virgil explained.

Remus was looking at the page, something strange passing over his face. It took a moment of him seemingly scrutinizing it before his eyes went wide and an unhinged smile spread across his face. 

“Oh my fucking god,” he said, dropping Virgil’s phone beside him before vaulting over the back of the couch and taking off down the hallway.

…

Virgil couldn’t just leave that alone, could he?

--

Remus about flew down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of Roman’s bedroom door and knocking manically. 

“What, Remus?” Roman called from inside. Only one person in the world knocked like that.

The door flew open, revealing Roman sitting in his bed, tablet in hand. 

Remus’s unhinged smile was the only warning Roman received that Something™ was certainly going on.

“Do you still draw your gay little comics?” Remus asked.

Roman’s eyes went wide, his expression falling as he immediately began sputtering.

“What? I- I mean, I didn’t- What are you-” “Holy fucking shit!” Remus started bouncing in place. “I know what you diiiid!” 

“Shut up! I- I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Roman countered, sitting up.

All Remus did was start laughing.

Roman buried his face in his hands. “How did you even-”

Remus somehow grew impossibly more smug. “You think I don’t know what your drawings look like?” Remus shot back, still beyond amused.

His brother just groaned, falling back against his headboard.

Remus had to wipe his eyes before he could lean against the doorframe.

“Hey, come on now… I won’t tell anyone.” He said, though his smile was far from convincing.

Roman shot him a look. 

“Yeah? And why wouldn’t you?” “I’m not an asshole.”

“You absolutely are an asshole.” “Okay, yeah. But I’m your asshole.” “...Please never say that again.” 

“Wait, you’re the one drawing Janus?” Virgil’s voice drew the attention of both twins.

“...Janus?” Roman asked, looking at Virgil.

“Yeah. …Are you saying it really is a coincidence?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “There’s no fucking way.”

Remus’s shit-eating grin had gone absolutely nowhere. His eyes darted from Virgil to Roman, then back again.

Oh. Oh. This was even better than he’d thought.

Remus clapped excitedly and turned to Roman.

“Oh shit, you didn’t even know his name? And you’re this gone?” 

“You didn’t?” 

Roman picked up his pillow and buried his face in it.

“I hate my whole life right now.”

“I’ve never loved mine so much.” Remus said, laughing so hard he nearly doubled over.

“Let me get this shit straight.” Virgil said, rubbing his temples.

“There’s nothing straight about it!” Remus interjected in a sing-song voice.

“Shuuuut uuuuuup,” Roman groaned into the pillow.

“You’ve been drawing my friend Janus into your secret webcomic because you’re a gay disaster, and you didn’t even know his name?”

“Yep!” Remus piped up.

“...Yeah.” Roman grumbled.

“Holy shit, Ro.” Virgil finally cracked a smile.

“I didn’t think he’d ever see it!” Roman finally let the pillow fall into his lap. “I didn’t think either of you would, either! …How did you even find it?” “Janus showed me. He’s trying to figure out why he’s in it. I guess he was already reading it.” Virgil shrugged.

“Of course he was. Of fucking course he was.” Roman dragged his hands down his face.

“Soo… Whatcha gonna do now?” Remus asked, clearly still having the time of his life.

“If I knew, do you think I’d be in this mess?” Roman shot him a weak look.

“Maybe.” Remus shrugged, pulling out his phone.

“...what are you doing?” Roman asked, watching him.

“I have to tell Lo about this.” Remus said, typing.

“You just said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” “Boyfriends don’t count. Besides, you know he won’t tell anyone.”

Roman grumbled.

“As long as the two of you don’t try and turn Janus into a coat.” Virgil muttered, also going back to his own phone.

Both twins looked at him, one eyebrow raised. 

“What?” They asked in unison.

It was very rare to get them both making the same expression.

“... Nothing.” Virgil tried to wave the comment away. “It’s a whole… Thing.”

“Oh absolutely not.” 

[not-so-innocent-bi-sander]

Drawn to You - Ch. 3

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter AO3

Janus didn’t think much about the webcomic again until Friday afternoon when he decided to check in on his go-tos. When he got back to the tab with the last one he’d been reading on Wednesday, he remembered the last thing he’d been thinking about when he read it.

That coat.

There was a background character in this panel with a coat that Janus couldn’t help but stare at. It was so specifically shaped and structured, it was something that he might even wea-

Wait. 

No. He did wear it.

He had a coat just like that. Now that he was thinking about it, it was a coat he wore in Autumn. Not heavy enough for true Winter, but plenty to keep the wind off of him. And, most importantly, it was a statement piece. He’d tailored it himself. 

He wasn’t a designer by any means, but sometimes thrifting led to alterations. He’d created that shaping.

Of course, that was just a coincidence. It was just… He hadn’t seen anything like that before.

Or, wait. That couldn’t be true. He must have been inspired by something when he’d made the alterations. It had to have been something.

It was just a neat coincidence.

He stopped thinking about it for the most part. Just continuing to read his usual four or so pages as he worked on catching up to the pages that were actually only coming out at a rate of three per week.

Janus didn’t know what made him click to the fifth page. He generally stopped at four, unless something he just couldn’t wait to see was about to happen. And with this one, that was uncommon. It was a fun story, but nothing overly action heavy or full of plot twists and turns.

But he did. He opened a fifth page, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on a character in the background.

The first thing he saw was a hat. 

His exact style of bowler. 

The type he wore almost every day.

He’d always loved hats. They just suited him. No one else he’d ever really known was as committed to the accessory as he was. 

His eyes moved to the next panel, where he found that the same background character was no longer facing away from the reader. They’d turned just enough for Janus to make out a detail that had him bolting up in bed.

There was a scar that ran down the side of their face. Just along the outside of their eye, curving down their cheek. 

Janus’s hand immediately flew to his own scar, tracing it down the side of his face, feeling how it curved forward just below his cheekbone and snaked toward his mouth.

The character had the exact same scar. 

The exact same one.

If it had just been a character in a bowler hat. Or just in a very particular coat. Or just with an eerily similar facial scar… But all three? That… That had to be him, right? 

Right? Janus began scrolling through the pages, barely reading the story, just searching for the character to show up again.

It took a few pages, but they did. This time in a yellow sweater beneath a long trenchcoat.

Janus narrowed his eyes. 

He had that exact cable knit sweater, in that exact shade of yellow, that he wore under that exact trenchcoat whenever the sky threatened to drop snow on him.

He wanted to say it was a coincidence. He really did. But even the pattern of the cable knit was right. Down almost to the exact stitch. How in the world…

Why was he a background character in this webcomic? 

Janus scrolled back to the top of the page. 

This was one he’d found by searching nearby artists. 

So… This person must have seen him.

And several times, too.

Was that… 

How was he supposed to feel about that? 

On the one hand, he didn’t exactly love being perceived.

But on the other… 

Janus was aware that many people thought of him as eccentric. And that was one of the kinder words. The way he was being drawn - assuming that this was him, which he was firmly doing at this point - wasn’t making a parody of him. He didn’t look like a caricature. 

It was just… 

Him. 

It would have been easy to make him look silly. He was very aware of that when he dressed himself, it was part of why he was so particular about each piece he chose. Or the artist could have used the scar on his face to make him look sinister. 

But they hadn’t.

More than one of the characters in the story had at least one disability, and one of the reasons why Janus hadn’t stopped reading was because the comic handled that with care. If a character’s mobility aid made them the butt of every joke, if they were treated like they were lesser, if they were made into a prop - any of that would have put him off.

So he had a feeling this character would be the same way. 

It was just a fact about them. It wasn’t the only thing about them.

He was reading into this a lot. 

Why was he doing that? 

Why was he hung up on how he was being portrayed, more than the fact that someone apparently looked at him? 

…

He wasn’t sure.

For now, he was just going to keep reading. 

Janus didn’t sleep that night.

He stayed up reading all the way up to the page that had been posted that morning. Or, the morning before - seeing as it was now firmly Saturday.

He had learned a few things.

For one, he wore a lot of very recognizable outfits. Every time that character had shown up again, he was wearing something different that Janus immediately sourced to his own wardrobe.

For two, he was starting to gather a decent amount of evidence to narrow down who the artist could be. 

They clearly saw him often enough. But Janus was pretty sure they didn’t talk much. Either that, or they were really only interested in his using his likeness and not anything about him as a person specifically. That didn’t help him much, though, so he was going to assume that they just didn’t know each other personally for now.

The character had officially graduated from noticeable background character to side-cast member a few dozen pages after Janus first noticed him. And it seemed the comments might have helped with that fact. 

He’d noticed there was a comment section after a while of reading that night, then gone back to read them all on the pages where the doppelganger appeared. After that, he started skimming them after every page - just in case. 

Anyway. 

The character, who had officially been introduced as Lysander - a name which Janus honestly didn’t hate - didn’t have Janus’s voice quite down. He spoke a little too theatrically. Which, if this were one of those voice-acting challenges where someone was making up a voice and manner of speaking for a character based only on their appearance, Janus could see why Lysander spoke the way he did. It suited the fashion and the color palette. 

Yes, he was still reading far too much into this.

So Janus was pretty sure the person didn’t exactly know him. An acquaintance at most, and a stranger at worst.

This was also a strangely flattering depiction. 

Janus was officially, unless something took a very drastic turn, past the point of worrying that this was going to turn creepy or insulting.

But it was still strange.

He should probably have been more unsettled by this. At least a little bit.

Someone had apparently been watching him often enough to memorize his clothes.

Instead, Janus found himself wondering what the artist had thought the first time they noticed him.

The unique coat? The obsession with hats? The scar?

He had no idea. 

But, apparently, he wanted to know.

When he noticed sunlight starting to peek through his window, he realized he really had been at this all night, and he was going to need to make a choice. 

Get some sleep? 

Or obsess some more? It was only minutes later that he was dressed and in his kitchen, starting up his coffee maker and typing out a message while he waited for it to brew.

[raccoonmilf]

Affirmations: People like my work. I am good at what I do. Important people don’t want to hunt me for sport. If anything, they should worry about me wanting to hunt them for sport. I have a powerful bite force.

[not-so-innocent-bi-sander]

Drawn to You - Ch. 2

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter AO3

Class didn’t last much longer after that. Roman slipped out right at the bell and strode off towards football practice. 

It was winter, so there weren’t any big games coming up - which he was thankful for. The season ended not long ago, and he felt like he was still trying to calm down from it. But the coach wasn’t going to let them rest on their laurels.

The burn of exercise combined with the sharp chill in the air would at least be a good distraction from thinking about what a disaster he was.

Roman Prince was the university’s up and coming quarterback. The theatre’s leading man. 

He was also far more awkward than anyone seemed to realize.

It was probably the acting. He’d always been good at it. It was one of the reasons he was able to keep a lot of his knee-jerk reactions off his face. 

And sure, he was a generally confident person. He was popular. He had a lot of friends. He was excelling in the areas he spent most of his time in. He worked out a lot. He wasn’t trying to brag, but denying that he was conventionally attractive would make it seem like he was just fishing for compliments. 

He was quite aware that quite a few people had little crushes on him. 

And if he was especially interested in any of them, it would have made his life so much easier.

But no. 

The boy who had caught his eye had to be aloof and clearly immune to his usual charms.

He’d had crushes before. Usually they were easy enough. Maybe someone was pretty, they’d talk, flirt a little, go on a date or two. Maybe something would come of it, maybe not. Either way, he’d tried and he was happy enough with that.

But for some reason, this time? This boy? It was just… Different somehow.

For one, Roman had no idea how to tell if he liked him back or not.

For another, he couldn’t help but notice things about him.

The way he dressed. From each particularly selected article of clothing to the purposeful placement of each accessory. His outfits were always completely on point. He wore things that Roman would never dream of pulling off. 

Well… Not pulling off himself, in a-

Nope.

Stop that.

Not doing that right now.

His clothes looked good on him. That was the point. His fashion was daring yet understated in a way Roman barely knew how to describe.

For a third thing, he was so talented. He knew so much about backstage and how all of that stuff worked, and that wasn’t even mentioning how good he was at art. That backdrop he’d been working on was mind-blowing. It genuinely looked like stone, with actual greenery snaking across it. He’d seen some of his work before, but never really from that close up.

And a final thing, Roman just wanted to talk to him. To get to know him. He hadn’t heard him say  very many words before. He’d given it a try that day in class, seeing if he could start talking to him about his painting, but he hadn’t really seemed interested. Then Roman gave him the out to stop having to talk to him, and he’d taken it. 

So, maybe he just wasn’t interested.

That was the main issue.

The other was that Roman didn’t know his name. 

He wanted to know it. 

He wasn’t necessarily going to doodle it in his notebook or come up with a ship name for them or anything, but he still wanted to know. He just didn’t know how to figure it out, exactly. Not smoothly. Not in a way that didn’t draw attention to the fact that he’d managed to never learn it.

Roman made his way home after football practice, heading into the apartment he shared with his brother and one other roommate. He closed himself into his room, dropped his bag on the floor, and threw himself onto the bed.

He stared at the ceiling, absently picking up the football he kept near his bed and throwing it up in the air while he thought. He’d always thought better when he was doing something with his hands. It was how he got into doodling, and eventually drawing.

Oh, crap. He needed to get some drawing done. Especially since neither of his roommates would be home for a while longer.

Roman tossed the ball a couple more times before setting it aside and rolling over to grab his tablet from the bedside drawer.

He’d drawn up a huge backlog of pages for his webcomic so he wouldn’t fall behind when he was busy with practice or rehearsal, but that only continued being a buffer if he kept drawing pages when he had the chance.

Roman felt a little silly about the webcomic he drew. It had started as just a little story he’d been writing, and eventually he’d decided to draw it out instead. He couldn’t even remember when he’d decided to start sharing it, but it had been years now, and he had a little bit of a following. 

It was just a simple little story about some characters living their lives in a small town, but he enjoyed doing it - even if he hadn’t told a soul in his real life that he did it. 

He wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed about it, exactly. But it just felt silly compared to all the other things he did, the things people knew him for. This was just a little outlet for him. Where he could control the story and the happenings, play around in this little world he’d created with the characters he’d become wildly attached to.

And yes, maybe some of the background characters had slowly begun to look more like people he knew or saw around school. It was just easier to take inspiration from actual people than to make up a million one-off background people.

Besides, what were the chances any of them would ever see it?

Most of the time, they’d appear once or twice - depending on the scene they were filling out - and then pretty much never specifically return. 

Most of the time.

One character in the background had started showing up very consistently. 

It started with a coat.

It had just been an interesting coat. The shape and the cut were so unique that Roman had wanted to draw it. Then that character began always wearing a hat. Sometimes suspenders. 

By the time he’d painstakingly drawn the precise pattern of a yellow cable knit sweater in several panels and made sure the scar just to the side of his eye was consistent every time, a few of his commenters began asking about the character.

Clearly they were important if the artist was spending so much time drawing their details. 

Roman had nearly sworn the first time he saw a comment like that. And then again at the resulting reply thread, full of speculation about who the character was and what their role in the story might be.

What was he supposed to do at that point? Fade him out and just make it seem unintentional? Let everyone forget about him? …Honestly? 

Yeah, probably.

That probably would have been the reasonable thing to do. 

But Roman and reasonable rarely went in the same sentence.

Unless it was that exact sentence, explaining that exact point.

So he’d found a way to weave him into the cast. 

And now he had an OC based on a boy he had a crush on who he didn’t know much about besides his fashion sense and talent for art. 

Naming him had been a nightmare. 

No name felt like it would live up. He knew he’d wanted to pick something unique, with a dramatic fancy feel to it. And seeing as his own name, along with his brother’s and his roommate’s, were rather out there - Roman, Remus, and Virgil - the threshold for outrageous was pretty high.

Roman had almost chosen Octavius. 

Then Nathair.

He’d eventually landed on Lysander.

Roman opened the last page he’d been working on on his tablet. Of course, the current small arc featured Lysander heavily. He’d stopped because he wanted to remember exactly how his hair was supposed to look. In this particular moment, Lysander wasn’t wearing his hat, so Roman had put off finishing the page until another theatre class happened.

And now, the way his hair parted was fresh in his mind.

Thankfully, his crush had taken off his hat to work on his painting.

Or, it would have been a happy coincidence if it mattered what his crush had been-

Yeah.

He really couldn’t even deny it. 

Lysander was one hundred percent his theatre-class crush. 

As the pages continued, it had become more and more obvious. And now, he was the spitting image of him. 

Roman’s art style was a little cartoony. It wasn’t like he was going for perfect realism when he had to draw panel after panel, after all. But it was still undeniable who Lysander was meant to resemble.

His outfits. His mannerisms. The way he did that cute thing with the end of the paintbrush in his mouth when he was deciding what he was going to paint next… 

God, he was such a disaster.

He spent so much time picturing this guy, drawing him, ensuring he captured every detail of the damn cable knit sweater he wore when it was cold enough out - 

But he still couldn’t even figure out how to ask his name.

And he was supposed to be this charismatic university heartthrob? 

Yeah, right.

[not-so-innocent-bi-sander]

Drawn to You - Masterlist

Roceit/mentioned Intrulogical College Theatre AU WC: 8000 AO3 Janus notices a character in a webcomic he's been reading starts to look very familiar, and then has to figure out why. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

[not-so-innocent-bi-sander]

Drawn to You - Ch. 1

Here's my last thing for this fun writing event I've been doing, and now I'm going to take a little break from writing for a bit lol. I wrote something like 70k over the last 9 weeks or something. But I had fun! Anyway - Roceit, mention of Intrulogical, creativitwins College!Theatre!Au A character in a webcomic that Janus reads starts to look far too familiar and he has to figure out why that is. AO3 - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Janus settled into the large red armchair that he always claimed when he got to class early - which was most days. It was one of several pieces of seemingly random furniture that had accumulated in the backstage area of the university’s theatre. And seeing as he had the time, he decided to do what he generally did and fuck around on his phone for a few minutes.

Nothing interesting had happened on social media since he’d last checked. No new emails, his group chats were quiet - probably because almost all of his friends were also in class. 

Oh, it was Wednesday. His webcomics should have updated. 

He’d been following a few of them for years, random series that he’d stumbled across online in different places. A couple of them were newer. The website he used to read them had a feature that let him sort by location, so he’d added a few based in the city where his school was to his rotation.

Some were technically more interesting - complicated plots, branching storylines, lots of action - while others were quieter, though still good. More slice of life. 

He was still catching up on some of his newer additions, reading a handful of pages whenever he checked in as he worked his way toward the present.

“Good afternoon, my fellow theatre enthusiasts!” A booming voice had Janus’s eyes flicking up from his phone. None other than Roman Prince had entered the backstage area. 

Who else could it have been? He always announced himself in some grandiose kind of way. 

Everyone knew him. He was the theatre major who got the leads in just about every show they did. He was also on the college’s football team, the second-string quarterback. In a year or two, he’d probably be their starter, once some of the more experienced players graduated. Roman was only in his second year, Janus was pretty sure. Like he was.

Roman had started greeting everyone more individually as he passed by, some by name, some more generally. When his eyes landed on Janus, he smiled softly and gave him a greeting nod.

“Afternoon!”

“Afternoon.” Janus nodded back, then flicked his eyes back down to his phone. 

He’d never really spoken to the guy. It was just impossible not to know who he was. Especially since Janus was minoring in theatre tech, he saw Roman fairly often. Some of his friends were actually jealous of that fact.

He was hot, Janus would admit - internally. There were several reasons he was their go-to leading man. Beyond the singing voice and the charisma, all that football practice had clearly had an effect on him as well.

It was almost frustrating how perfect the guy was. It probably would have actually been irritating if he wasn’t so damn friendly and genuine. He easily could have been an absolute asshole and no one would have been surprised.

But no. He had to be sweet and encouraging and willing to help out anywhere he could.

Having a bit of a thing for him was almost cliché. 

But there Janus was, keeping his gaze trained pointedly on his phone. 

They’d never really talked, besides the occasional greeting or when Roman happened to walk by when the techs were struggling to find their step ladder or had a box of props that was too heavy to get onto a shelf.

Roman could have anyone. The odds he’d be interested in the standoffish theatre tech with the odd fashion and the ugly facial scar weren’t even worth mentioning.

He didn’t even need to think about it. He shouldn’t.

He should think about anything else.

Huh. One of the background characters in this comic had a really neat coat, that’s interesting.

…Actually, hold on. It was pretty detailed for a background character. And it almost looked familiar? Was that-

“Alright class! Let me get backstage over here, front of house out on the stage. We have work to do.” Their professor called out. Janus slipped his phone into his pocket. 

Class would be a much better distraction.

It was. …Mostly. 

Roman’s voice carried. It wasn’t even entirely his fault. He just had one of those voices, and the good acoustics were part of what made a good theatre. So every time he laughed or joked or playfully sang something he absolutely didn’t need to sing, Janus could hear him.

Even getting in the zone, getting to do his favorite thing - painting a big backdrop by himself - didn’t shield him from having to hear Roman periodically.

Which was unfortunate. Because Janus liked listening to him. He liked watching him, too, but those were problems for another day.

He stepped back from the backdrop, squinting at the section he’d just finished. The colors weren’t quite there just yet. He mixed another shade and worked it carefully in until it was perfect. This was what he liked to do. The quiet concentration, taking something flat and making it look real.

He’d always been better at realism than anything else. Give him a reference and enough time and he could make something that looked almost like a photograph. He could do pretty well with colored pencils and oils too, but his favorite medium had always been paint.

Not that he hadn’t tried every other kind of art, but paint was always what he came back to. Digital art completely eluded him. Maybe that was why he liked webcomics. It was a kind of art he just couldn’t do, so maybe he just enjoyed appreciating it. Storytelling also wasn’t his thing, so that probably added to it too.

“Holy shit.”

Of course, Roman’s voice was still pulling him from his concentration.

Janus glanced behind him, maybe to see what thing had Roman so thoroughly surprised.

He was standing directly behind him, eyes glued to the backdrop Janus was working on.Oh. 

Oh, he was reacting to what Janus was doing. 

Oh, shit.

“...What?” He managed, turning to face him.

“Did you just…” Roman asked, flicking his gaze down from the painting to meet Janus’s eyes. “You just did all that? Just now?”

“Yeah?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Dude.” Roman gestured at the backdrop. “This is incredible. How do you just… Do that?” 

Janus absolutely did not blush. Not even a little bit.

“...Practice, I guess?” He answered slowly.

Roman nodded. “Makes sense. …Still though, I could never do something like this. You made it look like real stone. From over there,” Roman gestured back to the stage where he’d presumably been standing before he wandered over, “it looks like those vines are really growing on it.”

“...Thank you. That is… Uh, what I was going for.” 

Roman suddenly smiled, his grin stretching from ear to ear. Then he gently clapped Janus on the shoulder. 

“Well hey! You succeeded! It looks awesome, man.” 

Oh god, Roman was touching him. Why was he touching him?

Roman removed his hand after only a moment.

Aw, Roman stopped touching him. Why did he stop touching him?

“Anyway, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just…” Roman rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I got distracted from what I was doing when I saw it. I’ll, uh, let you get back to it.”

Roman took a half step backward, pausing slightly.

“...Okay. Sounds good.” Janus nodded and turned back to his work.

Roman nodded once and then finished turning around, making his way back over to the stage.

Janus let out a long, slow exhale.

That was a lot.

[tlirsgender]

Being critical of your interests is sooooo fun when you have the critic gene & then you sound kind of insane to the average tv watcher when you're like "this is my favorite show, It's Racist" & then you try to clarify what you mean & get that [Speech (legendary) - FAILURE] "the racism is really interesting though"

[tlirsgender]

[Speech (legendary) - SUCCESS] I find the sociopolitical context of pulpy old sci-fi born circa the civil rights movement really fascinating to analyze especially when it was progressive for its time but still reveals the writers' unexamined biases in the subtext

[tlirsgender]

Now to the untrained eye you might be thinking. Wouldn't you rather watch a show that isn't racist? But that's the fuck of it all, nothing is free of The Context and The Subtext. Everything is lowkey racist. And I like star trek

[tlirsgender]

I feel a lot of people are taking this post to be about "I like xyz *despite* its flaws" but I'm talking about the much harder to explain "I actively enjoy the specific way this thing sucks" like it's part of The Experience that it kinda sucks. Criticizing it is fun for me. You know ? I'm studying it in my bug jar

[roarmoreau]

treasures ✨ a small birthday gift for a wonderful actor 🤎

[megamindsupremacy]

Beautiful dash pull

[cobaltstarcat]

Poor Virgil can't catch a break with these two...