#lee!roman

I've been talking the talk about lee!roman recently and I needed everyone to know what I've been picturing in the form of a scribble

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+bonus super old art

This is from 2021 (!!???!!?)

Some of my earliest dabbles into absolutely destroying this man as you can see I've always been a fan

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Placidity was running all over the workshop, trying to catch the little jester.

“Na na na-AH!” “Get back here you little shit!”

Jocose giggled as he balanced on one of his rolling globes around the automatic shop.

“Stop! You are going to hurt yourself.”

Jocose stuck his tongue out and ignored Placidity, using the bouncy-ness of the red and black rolling globe he was on to bounce out towards the race track. The purple aspect huffed, snapped his fingers to summon a motorcycle and went after Jo.

“Jocose! Get off the track! You are going to fall!” “No can do, spider-a-roo! I’m on a roll”

The playful aspect back flips on the ball and starts walking on his hands while keeping the same pace. The other facet would be more impressed if he wasn’t so scared of Jocose getting turf burn. Placidity was finally able to reach out to catch the jesting trait by the waist and drive off with him around the track and back to the pit stop on the side. He was out of breath more than Jocose. The crimson facet pouted.

“Why did you stop meeeee?!” “BeCAUSE, you weren’t being careful! You could’ve gotten hurt!”

Jocose scoffed and pulled one of his lappets out of his face.

“I’ve practiced for decades on how to balance on one of those things! You worry too much, arachnid~!”

The lavender figment huffed a bit as Jo mockingly transformed his motley attire into Placidity’s racer uniform.

“Ooh, look at meeeeeee~ I’m Plastic Sanderrrrrs~” “Cut it out, Jo!” “Oh, what are you going to do about it?”

Placidity thought about it and was kind of in dismay. He was talking to the other half of Creativity, the two beings in the MindPalace that could create pretty much anything that you can put your mind to. But there had to be at least one weakness Jocose had. Even if he was boastful and shit, Jo had to have something that made him fall apart. Wait…

The purple trait smirked. There might be a way to get this jeering aspect to behave and he had just the trick.

“Say, Jocose~” “Hmm?” “I need your help actually.”

The joking aspect’s eyes lit up.

“Okay! Show me!”

The racer aspect walked Jocose over to one of his bench areas, where there was an old car seat on the ground. He summoned some pillows as the latter aspect willfully strapped themselves into the seatbelts of the broken seats.

“Ooh! Is this a game?! Are we going to act like we are blasting off to space?!” “Maybe…”

The red trait was bouncing with glee even when Placidity placed his hands on either side and squeezed. Jocose squawked and squealed, trying to move away from the mauve aspect’s fingers.

“Wahahahahait, Pl-Plahahastic!” “What’s the matter? Can’t handle a little bit of THIS on your sides?”

Jocose pouted and harrumphed.

“Of COURSE I cahahahan! Do your wohohohorst!”

The other side smirked as he went for the playful aspect’s hips. The latter figment squawked and thrashed a bit, the seatbelt locking in place and not letting him move much.

“Nohohohohohoho… archahahahahanid!” “Oh, the jester finally laughs at something other than his jokes.” “Ohohohohoho… sc-screw yohohohohou.”

Placidity smirk widened as he eyed a green toolbox. He and Veracity spent some nights, tinkering around the different things and making new ones. These special tools were put into this specific box and later used on either each other or Janus when he wasn’t on guard. He opened it and Jocose tried looking over at it but couldn’t move.

“Pl-Plastic?” “Hmm?” “Whatcha doing over there? Trying to torture me with something?” “No no. Not necessarily torture… but still something that will make you laugh.”

When the drill sound hit the trickster aspect’s ears, he started begging.

“Waitwaitwait! WAIT! Don’t hurt me! I was just trying to make you laugh. Hurting yourself to get laughs is a different type of hum-” “Oh, Jo! I’m not mad about that anymore~” “Then… … what?”

A cackle left the trapped trait’s body as a drill with the tip of it being a soft massage ball bumped against his ribs.

“Want to give up and leave?” “NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLACIDITY!!” “Hmm, what’s the problem, Jocose?” “PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! I’LL DO ANYTHIHIHIHIHING!!” “Anything??”

Placidity moved to Jocose’s calves, making his laughter louder.

“YAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAS”

He thought about it.

“Mmm… … your name.” “WAHAHAHAHAHAT?!?!” “You heard me~” “THERE IS NOHOHOHOHO WAHAHAHAHAY!” “Well… until you do…”

Squeals left the maroon facet’s mouth as the lilac side drilled a thumb into his navel.

“Just tell me… and this will all be over~ I promise you that I will make all the Jello you want if you do~” “LIAR!! YOHOHOHOHOU ARE LYIHIHIHIHIHING!!”

Placidity blew into Jocose’s neck and he finally broke.

“ROMAN!! MHYHYHYHY NAME IS ROHOHOHOMAHAHAHAN!!”

The purple aspect let Roman go.

“Roman, huh? That’s a pretty neat name for a jester.”

Roman huffed for air but then he noticed something.

“Are you… blushing?”

Roman gasped and became even more red.

“Shuhuhuhut your mouth… ehehehehe… you…”

The purple trait laughed before sitting Roman up.

“It’s nice to finally know you a bit better, Roman.”

Roman blushed again but nodded. The latter side extended his hand.

“I’m Virgil.”

Roman took Virgil’s hands and smiled brightly.

“Virgil, huh? That’s an oddly cool name for a racer.”

Virgil squeezed Roman’s sides again, getting the red side to squeak.

“No need to be a smartass, Roman.” “Nahahahat again!”

- - -

Roman did not stop working when Thomas did. This was Important to Thomas, and Roman had to get it right.

Thomas’s statement about using up his creativity was very nearly correct. As they had worked, Roman had dwindled away gradually, until now the quill he was holding was nearly as tall as he was. He had to hold it in a two-handed grip, kneeling on the parchment and balancing the unwieldy feather against his shoulder. At least he had a magic quill that didn’t run out of ink, so he didn’t have to keep getting up and down to re-dip it.

He ignored the click as the door to his room opened, but moments later the quill was snatched out of his grasp.

“Hey! Give that back, you- you ruffian!”

Deceit raised an eyebrow. “Ruffian? I would’ve expected a more… creative insult.”

Roman glared at him, more tired and grumpy than truly angry. “Well—! Well…” his mind went blank.

Deceit let him flounder for a retort, twirling the quill in his gloved fingers.

All at once, his inability to come up with a properly applicable insult, a good rhyme, even a solid sentence, slammed into Roman. He crumpled onto the desk. “Just leave me alone, I’m useless.”

Deceit sat down in Roman’s chair. Roman wasn’t looking at him, and was surprised to be lifted by the back of his shirt. He let out a squeak, then decided he was too tired to flail or protest, and merely went limp.

“Useless?” Deceit drawled, his voice dripping with something like sympathy. Knowing him though, it could well be anything, or nothing. “My dear prince, you and I both know that’s far from the truth.”

He draped Roman over his other hand, resting on the table. Roman was laying on his stomach, across Deceit’s palm, his arms flopped over his pointer finger.

“I am useless.” Roman asserted. “I can’t even make a song. I’m supposed to be great at songs!”

Deceit stroked the feather over Roman’s back, the smooth, gentle pressure a pleasant sensation. “Or perhaps, you’re holding yourself to too high a standard considering the circumstances.”

Roman’s muscles loosened further as the feather continued stroking over his shirt. “It’s for Thomas’s mother’s birthday, if I can’t make something perfect for this, when else could it matter?”

“I’m sure you will make something perfect,” Deceit replied. “But it may take more time. Time which we have, the birthday is in three weeks.”

Roman dropped his head onto Deceit’s glove. It was cool, rather than warm as he might have expected a hand to be. The feather traced patterns over his shirt, almost like a back rub, melting away his protests.

“You need rest now. Distraction, to get your mind off of the song and give you time to return to your full strength.”

As Deceit said the word Distraction, the edge of the feather brushed over a small strip on skin on Roman’s side, where his shirt had ridden up. Tingles spread from that spot, making him shiver. It felt nice, nearly tickly.

Roman shifted to dispel the tingles, inconspicuously doing so in a way that made his shirt ride up slightly higher.

For a few moments, Deceit must not have noticed, still stroking the feather over his shirt, but then the tip of the feather was drawn across his lower back, crossing from his shirt to his bare skin. Roman muffled a small giggle, enjoying as tingly sensations ran over him again.

Deceit was saying something else, but Roman was becoming lost in the moment, relishing the soft, gentle strokes and the occasional sparks of tickles.

At some point, he had relaxed so thoroughly as to forget he was hiding his giggles, and let one fully slip out.

“Oh, so I have a ticklish little prince?” Deceit said fondly, smiling down at him with a glint in his eyes.

Roman’s first impulse was to protest, especially as Deceit was sure to grow condescendingly teasing, but his enjoyment of his situation battled that impulse, leaving him speechless and blushing.

His internal battle was interrupted by the feather slipping up the back of his shirt, wiggling over his whole back. Roman fell into giggles, kicking his feet gently. The stiff quill feather wasn’t the most effective tool for causing tickles at his current size, but his embarrassment had made him more sensitive than usual.

“Awwww,” Deceit cooed. “Enjoying yourself?”

Roman didn’t respond other than to blush a bit pinker, though he made no move to block the feather.

Deceit twirled the feather. The strange sensation of the spinning feather under his shirt startled a laugh out of Roman.

“It seems I’ve found quite a good distraction, haven’t I?” Deceit said smugly. “Take all your thoughts away and leave only giggles~”

Roman rolled over, trapping the feather underneath his back as he giggled. Deceit easily pulled it free and teased it over Roman’s front. Here his shirt was better covering him, but the feather coming at him, fluttering at his sides or his stomach or neck, and constantly changing spots had him caught in giggles. He batted at the feather playfully when it came within reach of his hands. Indeed, all his previous difficult thoughts had fled.

“A happy little darling,” Deceit murmured, his voice overwhelmingly fond.

Roman was sure his face was still pink, but he was losing the embarrassment, caught up in the fun and the non-judgemental affection. He shucked his shirt off, clicking his fingers to change the quill in Deceit’s hand to a longer feather with droopy, dangly vanes.

Deceit shook the feather over Roman, the little tips flickering over his skin. Roman curled up into a giggly ball, rolling back and forth in Deceit’s hand. So many little tickly points all over him. It was like being out in a summer rain, if every drop left tingles in its wake.

Roman soaked in the attention, the sensations, the love. His body filled with warmth and joy, releasing the excess with every laugh. His giggles were infectious, and Deceit chuckled at the adorable sight in his hand.

When Roman got breathless, he grabbed at the trailing ends of the feather to stop them. Deceit obligingly switched tactics to long slow strokes of the feather up and down over Roman. It was hardly tickly at all, returning to a relaxing massage-like experience, but Roman couldn’t seem to fully stop the remaining giggles.

Slowly, gradually, he melted into Deceit’s palm. After such a height of joy, tiredness draped over him like a blanket. His eyes slipped closed, and the giggles came further and further apart.

Roman and Logan had only been dating for only around six months when winter rolled around. The second the clock struck midnight on November 1st Roman was in full Christmas mode. Christmas was his all time favorite holiday, how could it not be? There were presents, and loud decorations, and cuddling by the fire, and hot cocoa, and the people he loved most. But his favorite person in the whole wide world, his boyfriend Logan, was Jewish. So he didn’t even celebrate Christmas! He’d probably never even had a proper Christmas, and wasn’t that a sad thought to be having at midnight. So Roman resolved that this year he was gonna make Logan experience Christmas. All the good non-religious bits, anyways. Christmas had never really been about God for Roman anyways. He more enjoyed the family and community aspect of it all.

Unfortunately, both Logan and Roman were absolutely swamped with schoolwork and activities for the entirety of November. Roman was starring in the fall play, and Logan was working hard with his team to get their phenomenal rubber band car ready for the Physics Olympics. Between their busy schedules and Thanksgiving, the two barely even saw each other. Come December, however, a rejuvenated Roman set his plan into action: Operation Make-Logan-Experience-Christmas.

Step one: Decorate the house.

On December 3rd, Roman invited Logan over with no explanation. When Logan pulled into Roman’s driveway he was surprised to find the guy looking extremely frustrated as he furiously attempted to untangle a massive string of lights.

“Ro? What’s going on? Are you ok?” Logan inquired as he exited his car. Roman dropped the lights, a huge smile blooming on his face,

“Hey! You made it! I’m just trying-and failing-to untangle these lights…haha. I wanted to show you all the joys of Christmas since, yknow, you’re Jewish and all. So I figured we could decorate my house together and then drink cocoa?” Logan huffed out a small laugh. His boyfriend was adorable.

“Sure”, he replied with a grin, “Hand me the lights”. He then proceeded to untangle them in one smooth motion, smirking when Roman’s jaw hit the floor.

As the hours wore on, the work was getting agonizingly slow. Especially for Logan who didn’t understand the point of putting lights on the house to begin with. It wasn’t practical; why were they doing it? So, when Roman stretched up to wrap a string of lights around a tree branch, Logan quickly wiggled two fingers in each of Roman’s underarms, eliciting a small shriek. Roman immediately whipped around, light pink dusting his cheeks.

“Dohon’t”, he giggled, voice wavering slightly. See, Logan didn’t get mischievous often, he found it childish. But, well, he was really bored. And maybe Roman was cute when he was tickled or whatever, shut up. Roman tentatively reached up again, and again he he found tickling fingers in his underarms, forcing him to slam his arms down with a squeal. The cycle continued a couple more times before Roman finally whipped around and tackled Logan, squeezing his sides with vigor.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ROHOHOHOMAN PLEEHEEHEEASE IHIM SOHORRY STAAHAHAHAAP”, he squealed.

“All right, all right,” Roman relented, “but only because we need to finish these decorations”. And as much as Logan hated to admit it, the decorations did end up pretty great in the end. They were loud and obnoxious and garish and PERFECT. This whole Christmas thing was actually pretty fun, and Logan thought the concept of Roman showing him his favorite parts of the holiday was pretty cute. And that’s what sparked Logan’s newest idea: Operation-Make-Roman-Experience-Chanukkah.

Which is how Roman found himself at Logan’s house on December 18, the first night of Chanukkah. Roman honestly didn’t know much about the holiday, so he was pretty excited. Logan’s family, of course, were delighted to have Roman over. Logan’s grandparents, although not fully understanding that the two boys were dating, were supportive and excited regardless. Roman watched as Logan’s dad lit the shammash with a fire stick and Logan got to light the first candle. Not being religious or motivated enough to actually dig out the yamaka’s, all the male family members simply placed a hand on their heads as Logan’s grandfather recited a prayer. Roman didn’t understand a word of the Hebrew, but he enthusiastically exclaimed “Amen!” with everyone else at the end. The family then sat down for dinner, where Roman proclaimed latkes to be his new favorite food and then proceeded to eat half the platter. After an incredible dinner, they sat on the floor for a rousing game of dreidel. Barely 10 minutes in Roman was losing quite spectacularly. Logan’s grandfather was winning again; no one could quite figure out how he always won a game entirely based on luck. Logan himself had quite a sizeable stack of chocolate gelt in front of him. And maybe Roman was feeling a bit mischievous, sue him. So he sneakily-not-so sneakily stole Logan’s stack of the biggest coins and slid it over to his meager pile. Logan merely gave Roman a side-eye and stole the coins back, but the glint in him eye told him Roman was SO getting it later.

And get it he did, because as soon as Roman and Logan were able to sneak away to Logan’s room, out of earshot from the adults downstairs, Logan wasted no time in pinning Roman to the bed.

“Eheheheh what?” Roman questioned.

“You stole from me. Now it’s time to pay” Logan replied dramatically whilst wiggling his fingers in the air. Romans eyes widened comically at the sight,

“You wouldn’t”.

“Oh I would”. With that Roman burst into laughter, which was only strange for one reason: Logan hadn’t actually started tickling him yet, which sent the shorter man into a flurry of giggles himself,

“ihi hahaven’t eheven tohouched you yehet”.

“Shut up” came the embarrassed reply.

“I’m gonna count to 10”, Logan proclaimed, much to Roman’s horror.

“1”

“nonono wait please don’t”

“2”

“Logan wait please I gave it back”

“3”

“It was a joke! I didn’t mean it! Please I’m sorry!”

“10.”

And with that, Roman couldn’t say much else as he had quickly descended into hysterics as Logan dug mercilessly into Roman’s ribs. He couldn’t even complain that Logan had skipped 4 5 6 7 8 and 9. That didn’t stop Logan from talking, however.

“Aww does that tickle? Is my Prince just sooo ticklish he can’t even handle just a few tickles on his wittle ribs?”

“I bet you’re sorry now. Was my gelt really worth this?”

“Can you stop laughing? I’m trying to talk to you. how rude!”

Roman meanwhile was dying as fingers were now spidering all over his tummy, leaving the poor boy in stitches.

“This will not end until you apologize for the stolen goods”

“Nehehever”

“Fine. I guess I’ll have to use drastic measures”. Logan’s hands began steadily creeping back up, awakening Roman’s ribs from their much deserved nap. They didn’t stop there however, a terrifying fact that Roman was coming to realize.

“No no no nohot there nohot there pleaheahease” he babbled helplessly, “I cahan’t tahake ihihit”

“Aww, but I thought you liked this Ro. Any last words?”

“Fuck you!” And those truly were his last words for awhile as Logan wormed his hands into Roman’s underarms and vibrated his fingers like ticklish shockwaves pulsing into Roman’s core. Roman was in the clouds. He couldn’t feel his surroundings and his eyes were squeezed shut. He could barely hear his own hysterical laughter over the deafening buzz of fire in his nerves. He couldn’t comprehend anything besides how much it tickled. The sensation blurred reality until he found himself wishing it would last forever while simultaneously needing it to stop that second. It was like oxygen that suffocated. He couldn’t stand it, but he needed it, more than he ever thought he’d need anything. But the feeling was quickly approaching “suffocating”. Fortunately, it suddenly stopped. Reality rushed back through him. Dull tingles racing through his body, soft sheets under him, warm and grounding Logan on top of him. Hands were on his face, in his hair, making sure he was okay.

“Thanks..Logi. That was- fuck”

“Anytime Ro” Logan smiled softly before slipping back into his “mad” voice,

“That’ll teach you not to steal from the great professor!”

“Oh yeah?” Roman questioned as he picked himself off the bed and switched their positions with admittedly little resistance from his boyfriend.

“I think you’ve got a lesson of your own to learn teach.” He said before lowering his voice to a low whisper,

“No-one messes with the prince and makes it out unscathed” And then Logan was in hysterics as the tables turned, fingers on his neck, his ears, his sides all tickling with too much vigor for someone who’d just been tickled to hysterics themselves. The sensations were simultaneously too much and too little, altogether overstimulating while his body kept craving more, more, more as he leaned into the touch instead of away, a fact which Roman was all too eager to point out.

“Aww enjoying yourself there Logi-bear? Is the great professor enjoying his wittle tickles?”

“NO! I HAHAHATE YOUHOUHOO”

“Do you now? I’m not hearing a stop~” At that Logan fell silent because truthfully he was enjoying the affection from his boyfriend. That’s what the holidays were about, after all. Not candles, or decorations, or silly games with spinning tops and chocolate. They were about creating silly memories with the people you love the most. And as he was laughing himself horse, Logan hoped Roman would be there to make these memories with him for many more Christmases and Chanukkahs to come. Because Roman brought happiness and laughter into Logan’s life. And Logan didn’t want to stop laughing for a long time. And so he wouldn’t. ;)

I hope this is okay writing wise. I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing my best.