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Summary
It becomes this heavy thing between them, this reluctant shared secret born from inconvenience. It goes in cycles. Stewy swears he’s done being an emotional rent boy for the Roys. He’s clawed his way back to his comfort zone; nothing that cuts too deep, or feels too close.
Then Roman’s voice comes through the phone, drags him back in. Shaking with nervous laughter, over something that’s never been funny. “I think- fuck, man, I’m sorry. But like, my chest- my chest fuckin’ hurts.” -
Bookmark Notes:
“I’m not his babysitter. Or yours, by the way. I don’t know what competition you and Ken are in right now, and I don’t want to know. Inject crank into your fucking eyeballs, go for manorexic of the year, I don’t care. Maybe you two can get your own joint Lifetime movie. Hey, maybe you can pitch it at Waystar, dude. Finally make something I might watch. But you gotta stop dragging me into your drama. I’m not one of those sets of swinging silver balls, getting bounced between Kendall’s overdoses, and your death camp gym membership. I’m a busy man. Next time you decide to purge your urges, ring your sister- or better yet, bro, try your therapist.”
i never knew how badly i needed stewy/roman until now, and i may or may not have wept a little while reading this fic. what an emotional rollercoaster. fuck. :')
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Bookmark Notes:
I haven't watched the show but when has that stopped me?
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Bookmark Notes:
Interesting development and ending.
Life goes on - the situation still shit but the mentality looking up. -
Bookmark Notes:
dude. roman and stewy as a pairing has NO RIGHT to be as good as it is. the way stewy is just like. dude. i love you maybe but i think i've just been making things worse for you drives me so fucking crazy i dont even have words for it. wwyd if you were fucking your cokehead best friend's little brother except not really, and then the two of you had this odd, fucked up situationship that you had to realize was actually slowly killing the guy you kinda sorta maybe not really but also do love