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ratremusagere · 6 months ago

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Hey yall! This was a request over on AO3 (RatRemus - Sanders Sides Agere/Kid Fics) by Voidlunaluci :)

~Request~

Caregivers: Logan and Janus

Littles: remus and Virgil

Prompt: It's Halloweens and remus wannas goes to a horror maze whiles smalls but virgils scare so Janus and Logan work together to helps

Please and thankies!!

Papa: Logan

Dada: Janus

Remus: 6

Virgil: 3

Word Count: 1077

Virgil and Remus were supposed to be napping. Supposed. In actuality Remus was drawing out his big idea for a haunted maze that they, the two little and their caregivers, could go to. It wasn’t Remus’ fault that he was too excited to nap!

Virgil on the other hand was entirely too tired to deal with Remus keeping him up, he was just a little guy after all. However after Remus let out a happy squeal after finishing his project Virgil jumped and started crying, as the poor baby was easily startled.

Janus walked in and sighed at the sight in front of him before going to scoop up Virgil. He gently patted Virgil’s bottom “shhh it’s ok spiderling, no need to cry” he hummed softly and rocked the overgrown toddler. Logan then walked in too and saw Remus out of bed, coloring. Remus at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“Remus, what did you do?” Logan said fondly, he didn’t have it in him to truly be angry at the kid. It wasn’t his fault he had an overactive imagination and had a hard time napping or staying quiet.

“Nothing papa!” Remus immediately lowered his voice at the pointed look Logan gave him “sorry papa but really, I was just drawin and came up with a really good idea for a haunted maze for us to go in and and I squealed cuz happy stim and then I woke up the baby. I’m sorry”

“Buddy, it’s ok thank you for the apology, how about we go in the living room and after dada finishes calming down your baby brother we look over your drawing together? Does that sound good?” Remus immediately jumped up, very excited by that prospect and ran to the living room. Logan chuckled fondly and walked after the hyperactive little.

Soon after, Janus followed suit, the now calmed Virgil in his arms. His eyes were still a bit teary but he was okay now. “So kid, what’s this I hear about your haunted maze?” Janus said, sitting next to Logan on the couch as Virgil crawled into Logan’s lap and Remus crawled into Janus’.

“Well dada! I’m so glad you asked! I drawed us all going to a haunted maze and it was so scary you pooped your pants! And papa got so scared he punched somebody! And me and baby vee completed the maze and and we won a prize! And there’s so many zombies and skeletons and guys with chainsaws trying to chop your heads off!” Remus seemed really proud of his idea but Virgil on the other hand started crying again.

Logan started rocking Virgil as Virgil whined “I…I don wan people cuts our heads off!!” He sobbed loudly. Remus whined as well “but it’s not real vee! It’s just pretend.” That seemed to help Virgil a little. “How about we make the maze a little less scary ree? Just so Virgil can enjoy it too? I promise as soon as you’re both big again we can go to a very scary one” Remus pouted at Logan’s words. “Fineeee but I better get to keep the severed fingies!” Remus giggled. Janus blinked and frowned “absolutely not ree, that’s not happening. I love you but we aren’t putting any real body parts in this maze. How about we make some severed finger cookies instead?” Janus quickly added the cookie part because he could tell Remus was going to throw a fit over his words.

Remus still pouted but nodded, he was hungry anyways. “Ok dada, after that can we go to the haunted maze? Pleaseeeee?” Janus nodded “sure honey, how about Vee, you, and I go do that while papa and Roman work on making this maze for us?” The boys seemed excited so that’s exactly what they did.

~~~~~

It was now a couple hours later, the boys wound up needing a bath and another nap after cookie making so it was closer to sunset. Remus was dressed in his zombie rat costume and Virgil was dressed in a cute spider onesie. He felt comfortable enough to walk as long as either his papa or dada held his hand so they were all walking together to the maze.

Remus had tried to run off three separate times so his caregivers forced him into a leash backpack. “Ok baby we are here do you want to be picked up?” Virgil shook his head no at Janus “m a big boy dada!!” Logan smiled at him and ruffled his hair.

Just then a zombie jumped out of the maze at them. It spooked Virgil a little so he clung to the side of his dada a little more but Remus seemed happy enough so they kept going. Virgil seemed to get braver as they kept going and Remus was excited by that, happy his baby brother wasn’t being a scaredy cat anymore.

Just as Remus turned around to look at his papa and dada another zombie jumped out at them. Virgil squealed and ran to his dada but was giggling, he thought it was funny. However Remus, not expecting it, jumped and started crying. He plopped down and was suddenly not the brave big 6 year old anymore but a frightened baby who needed his papa.

Logan was quick to scoop Remus up and hold him “oh baby doll it’s okay, shhhh it’s alright darling” he hummed a little lullaby to Remus. Remus’ crying also startled Virgil who began to tear up and reach for his (now) baby brother. “Dada he’s cwyin! Poor baby gotta help him!” Janus smiled fondly at Virgil “I know baby he’s just a little spooked. How about we head home and come back another day?” Virgil adamantly said no to that “ree ree was soooo excited!! We can’t leave without finishin da maze! And gettin da prize! For baby!!!”

The two caregivers looked suprised at that, thinking Virgil would want to leave but nodded anyways “okay spider we can finish the maze” Janus said following after the now determined young boy.

Remus let out soft coos and attempted to eat Logan’s tie whilst they walked. Logan, very fond of the baby in his arms, just let him do so. Once they found the end of the maze both boys let out happy squeals. Happily claiming their prizes (a squid themed paci and a stuffed spider) they headed home to be coddled and doted on by their caregivers.

#ts!agere #agere sanders sides #agere!virgil #agere!remus #caregiver!logan #caregiver!janus #sanders sides #ts agere #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders

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jacksonstarkiller · 1 year ago

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THUNDERQUEERS ARE GO!!!

Everyone already shared their queer headcanons a week ago. So here I am, right on time to once again be behind on everyone else 😃

(This is TOS based btw)

Am I the only one who has a queer headcanon for Jeff? Anyway, he’s bi. Realised it late as fuck though. After he was already married to Lucy and they had Scott. Not that it mattered for the marriage, I just meant that Jeff was an idiot late-bloomer. I image the conversation went something like this:

Jeff: Honey, I think I’m bisexual.

Lucy: Omg, you didn’t know?!

Jeff: You did?! Why didn’t you say anything?!

Lucy: I thought you knew and were just really casual about it!

Jeff *starts hyperventilating* : I think I’m having an existential crisis.

Lucy: … uhm, does this mean that now is a bad time to tell you I’m pregnant again?

Scott confuses me tbh. He has massive straight vibes but I cannot see him actually in a relationship with a woman. I can kinda picture him in a relationship with a man. I mostly like to think that Scott is just as confused as I am 😂.

You may have already seen the video I posted for Virgil Day. But I headcanon Virgil as bi and a demiboy using he/they pronouns. He mostly uses he/him though out of habit and because he doesn’t particularly care that much. I can also see him on the ace spectrum.

I’ve always called John a laid-back pan and I shall continue to do so. My headcanon is pretty much the same as @willow-salix so you can read her post if you want a more detailed explanation. I’m too lazy atm 🏃🏼‍♂️🏃🏼‍♂️🏃🏼‍♂️

Unpopular opinion but Gordon is my token straight 🤷🏼‍♂️. Can’t explain it. Just the vibes I get.

And then this post’s main event: Alan is gaaaaay! The second I laid eyes on that fucker, my brain went: ✨gay✨. I mean, he’s a drama queen in flamboyant fits. Were they even trying to hide it?🤨 Also, may I refer you to the dream sequence in Thunderbirds Are Go (1966)? Because, hello!!!

Lad looks like he’s going to pride. He’s wearing a rainbow glitter suit, surrounded by pink clouds, waiting for his female friend to come pick him up in her pink car to drive them to the Swinging Star (if that doesn’t sound like a 60s gay club, idk what does). You better believe he was pissed during End Of The Road. Finally a nice lad his age that he is not related to is on the island, and then Tin-Tin swoops in!!!! Like, girl you already have plenty of options, please let me have this one…

Additionally, I feel Alan is a firm believer that gender is a social construct and he doesn’t vibe with the traditional (binary) concept of the male gender. He still labels himself as male (using he/him) because he’s comfortable but with that, but he doesn’t care much what other people perceive him as or call him (unless they’re being purposely offensive).

Early Thunderbirds-days me was still cis-het and complimenting myself for being so emancipated for identifying with the queer character of a show whilst not being queer myself. Oh how the mighty have fallen …

That awkward moment you realise you identify with the gay puppet because you are a gay muppet

Hello rainbow flag my old friend 🥲

And look at that, it’s another Alan essay :)

@thunder-pride

#thunderpride #thunderbirds 1965 #Jeff Tracy #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #Lucy Tracy #queer #lgbt #bisexual #asexual #mlm #pansexual #demiboy #gender nonconforming #thunderfam #thunderbirds

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lovelylogans · 1 year ago

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the parent trap

CHAPTER TEN: domine dirige nos

Remus spends a great deal of time weighing the most British way to say hello. He’s going to have to repress throwing in a what’s all this then, guv’nor? the entire time.

⁂

It’s hard to believe that eight weeks have gone by, Roman reflects as he looks around their cabin.

All their battle plans have been disassembled, the pieces of it packed carefully away to avoid any prying parents who might cotton onto their plot too quickly. Their beds are stripped, their trunks are packed (the pair of them packing their own trunk and helping the other twin pick out an outfit for the plane and subsequent reunion with each parent) and the cabin looks just as empty as it did when they first arrived.

“Big day’s here,” Remus says, and Roman turns to look at him.

He looks only minorly uncomfortable in Roman’s tweed suit; Roman can’t blame him in this blasted heat. He has Roman’s case in hand, Roman’s earrings in his ears, and even though they’ve done this sort of thing before, it’s still rather jarring.

“All right,” Roman says, adjusting Remus’ bright lime duffle over his shoulder, pushing Remus’ sunglasses up onto his head, Roman in green checkered shorts, and a jean jacket over a green, barely-clean Camp Walden t-shirt; Remus assures him that this will track well with the adults. Roman can only imagine this is the case, considering Remus had never once voiced interest in seeking out laundry services during their entire roomateship.

“Tell me what the plan is when you get to London.”

“Arrive in Heathrow, where Uncle Logan will pick me up,” Remus says promptly. “Do the handshake, get in the car, be subtle, blame any weirdness on jet lag. You?”

“Arrive in San Francisco and switch planes for Napa County airport,” Roman recites.

“And chew your nails on the plane.”

“Ugh. And chew my nails on the plane. Papa will be there to pick me up and drive us back home. Maybe Virgil also, but most likely just Papa. Pa,” he corrects, enunciating it in Remus’ accent.

“Reunite with Pa.”

“Reunite with Dad,” Remus says quietly.

They are both quiet at the enormity of this.

“Okay,” Roman says, and looks to the last piece of the cabin they have to pack up. “Last things.”

“Last thing,” Remus repeats.

Roman picks up Paddington from what has become his usual spot next to Cuppy, briefly kissing Paddington’s fuzzy little forehead.

“Take care of him,” Roman says anxiously.

Remus squeezes Cuppy tightly to his chest before he extends Cuppy to Roman.

“You’re probably going to do a better job with him than I ever did anyway.”

Their childhood bears change hands; each boy turns to lay their bear carefully in their luggage. Well, Remus tries his best to settle it neatly, finding a spot nestled within one of Roman’s jumpers; Roman figures chucking it in where it fits tracks well with Remus’ personality, just barely doing enough to make sure that Cuppy isn’t pinched by re-zipping his bag.

“Okay,” Roman says, and he inhales, exhales. “Okay. When we walk out of those doors… I’m you.”

“I’m you,” Remus repeats.

In unison, each boy takes on the habits they’ve spent six weeks observing. Remus straightens his back while Roman slouches; Roman cocks a hip to the side and settles his sunglasses low on his nose while Remus does up his top button; Remus starts to stride out of the door while Roman swaggers.

From now on, I am Remus Parker.

And I’ve never even heard the name Roman James.

⁂

When Roman said this was a looong plane ride, he was not kidding.

He shuffles through his carryon to make sure it’s as organized as Roman would have it. He digs through his pockets for anything fun to play with—no luck, but he does find his notes that he’d smuggled away. He reviews those to stay up-to-date on the minutiae of the life he’s about to steal.

That takes him about an hour.

Only about twelve hours to go.

Remus groans to himself and thunks his forehead against the plastic food tray.

Sleeping eats up about eight hours; the in-flight movie takes up another two.

And, very suddenly, the plane tilts, and the pilot comes over the crackly intercom, and Remus seeing his uncle and Dad is very suddenly less a vague in the future and a much more solid just about now.

Remus’ hands go up to his mouth, and he just barely stops himself before he bites down with a vengeance, instead adjusting to sit on his hands. Roman doesn’t chew his nails; Roman taps his foot or bounces his leg or messes with his hair.

So Remus starts bouncing his leg, staring out of the window as the plane breaks through the clouds, swooping low over the gray skyscrapers and massive churches and winding roads of London.

My Dad is somewhere down there, Remus thinks, and he starts bouncing his leg faster.

⁂

Okay, so when he thought just about now, he’d handily forgot the business of departing the plane.

Which takes. For. Ev. Er.

If everyone would just hurry up and grab their bags from the overhead bin—

But it’s fine, because now Remus is speedwalking through the hallway that attaches to the plane—Roman would know the word for that, so Remus just resolves not to say it—and racing into the gate, then through customs, holding his case tightly, turning to look through the crowds…

No, that man with spectacles has entirely the wrong hair color—that one almost looks right, but he’s too short—a similar suit as to what’s in the photographs, but the wrong face entirely—

Remus clambers up onto a seat to stand on, looking through the crowds, straining his neck, until—

“Roman!”

Remus turns his head; bustling through the crowd, hair a similar shade of brown as his and Roman’s, yes—there he is.

Remus’ Uncle. So strange he’s got an uncle!

(Yes, technically their dad’s cousin, he knows.)

“Uncle Logan!” Remus blurts out, grinning, and Uncle Logan’s upon him quick; before he can even think about it, Remus leans forward and wraps his arms tightly around his Uncle Logan’s shoulders.

Before Remus can panic if that’s something Roman would do or not, Uncle Logan is already holding him, lifting him up, and depositing him back on the ground.

“I missed you!” Remus says loudly, over the rush of the crowd in the airport.

“I’ve missed—goodness, Roman, what have you done to your hair?”

“Dyed it!” Remus says, combing his hand through his hair the way he’s seen Roman do it. “There was a boy in my cabin who—oh, it doesn’t matter, anyway, do you like it?”

“It’s very modern, isn’t it?” Uncle Logan says, briefly smoothing a hand over Remus’ hair. “Is this your first step toward trying out… oh, what are they called. That boyband boy, he has them—?”

“Frosted tips?” Remus says, then, thoughtfully, “I hadn’t really thought about it. Maybe I will.”

“Well, regardless, it’s very fashion-forward of you,” Uncle Logan says, then he extends a hand.

Remus doesn’t gulp, even though he wants to: this is his first real test.

One shake—two—three—then Remus sticks out a hand, Logan puts his hand on top, the Remus’s then Logan’s again, down with their hands and up—they hit backs up of their hands, clap up middle down down down, snap to the hip—bump one hip, then hop for the other—grin to each other—then swap places, and shake hands once more.

Uncle Logan smiles at him. “Welcome back.”

Remus lets out a soft sigh of relief.

“Come along, then,” Uncle Logan says, gathering Roman’s case. “Let’s get you home.”

Remus beams up at him.

⁂

Oh, wow, this is swanky, Remus thinks, trying to be subtle about running his hands over the nice leather.

Uncle Logan and him are seated in the back of a chauffeur’s car, Uncle Logan occasionally switching from reading the society pages of the paper to asking Remus the occasional question about camp to watching as Remus stares out of the windows, trying not to be too obvious about gawking at all the landmarks that speed by.

Big Ben—the London bridge—Remus abandons all pretense and just starts leaning out of the open window at that point—Westminster Abbey—Buckingham palace—

“Eight weeks at camp and you’re acting like an American tourist,” Uncle Logan says, amused, folding down one corner of the newspaper.

“Camp makes you appreciate home more, I guess,” Remus says, distracted by some street performer holding still as a statue. “Oh, Uncle Logan, look at the guards with their funny little hats!”

“You’ve seen the guards a thousand times!” Uncle Logan says, the edge of a disbelieving laugh in his voice.

“But never with dyed hair,” Remus retorts, “and never after eight weeks away from home!”

Uncle Logan simply shakes his head and returns his attention to his paper, murmuring something about children.

They keep driving past great big museums and churches—a lot of other buildings Remus is sure are historically important for some reason—and they turn onto a quieter side street, lined with roses and hydrangeas, and Remus is suddenly very sure they’re coming up on Pembroke Lane.

Remus sits abruptly back in his chair, rolling his window up and combing his fingers quickly through his hair.

“How do I look?” Remus asks Uncle Logan.

“Only a little like you’ve just spent the past thirty minutes with your head out of the car window.”

Remus combs his fingers through his hair a little more aggressively as the car meanders through the lanes, and suddenly they’re pulling up to a door and they’re slowing down and—

And there’s a set of columns with the number 7 on them.

“Here we are,” the chauffeur says, putting the car in park, before he gets out and opens the door for Remus. “Home again.”

“Thank you,” Remus says breathlessly, staring up at the house.

There’s an open window, and curtains that move with the faint suggestion of someone behind them.

That could be my Dad.

And Remus is up the stairs and his hand is on the great golden knob before anyone else can open any doors for him.

Roman’s sketch, come to life in roaring color; the walls are painted a faint shade of orange, the stairs curving up the wall just like in Roman’s image. Remus takes a deep breath and sidesteps into the parlor, yes, that’s right, that’s what Grandfather calls it—

Only to see a banner hanging from the ceiling above the arch that leads into the less formal dining room.

WELCOME HOME ROMAN, it reads, with Roman in a glittery red script, streamers hanging down, and Remus can’t help but grin at it.

Roman probably would’ve loved that.

There’s a faint cough, and Remus jolts to attention—yes, there’s the doorway to the study with the leather chairs and the towering bookshelves, and Remus scampers toward the sound as quickly as he can.

Remus comes face to face with—

A newspaper.

Remus chews his lip, before he clears his throat.

“Grandfather?”

It comes out reedier and higher than expected, but the newspaper folds and suddenly there’s a man; white-haired and balding, bespectacled, besuited, be-tweeded, be-mustached, a pipe in his mouth, just like Roman said he might.

“Is that my little boy?” Grandfather exclaims in amazement, taking the pipe from his mouth and removing his glasses. “That tall, gangly thing?!”

“It’s me,” Remus manages, dropping Roman’s case to the floor as Grandfather stands, spreading his arms.

“Welcome home,” he says, and he embraces Remus. Remus wraps his arms around his Grandfather—his Grandfather!—and hugs him for all he’s worth.

“Did you have a good time, darling?”

“Uh-huh,” Remus mumbles, burying his face into his Grandfather’s chest, covered in tweed as it is. “Great time.”

“What on earth are you doing?” He says, amused.

“Just… smelling.”

“Smelling?” Grandfather chuckles. “Whatever for?”

“I’m making a memory,” Remus says. “Whenever I think of you, Grandfather, even if it’s when I’m all grown up, I’ll remember that you always smell of—” he takes a big whiff, “peppermints and pipe tobacco!”

“Be a dove and don’t tell your father I was smoking when you got back, hey? I’ve told him I’ve cut back,” Grandfather says, chucking his chin, and Remus thinks of Pa and misses him so intensely for a moment, just a moment, and—

“I never do.”

“Good lad.”

“Roman?”

A voice floats down the staircase, through the parlor and the study, a lovely voice like one on a radio or a nature documentary with a smooth accent just like Uncle Logan and Grandfather’s and Roman’s.

Remus jolts for the archway of the parlor, where he stares up at the face of the voice in question.

Remus’ entire body locks up for a moment.

He looks almost entirely like his photograph, except at this angle Remus can see the port-wine stain splashed across his cheek and he’s changed the way he styles his hair. His Dad is dressed in tailored palazzo pants, brown, high-waisted, and cinched at the waist with a crisp white shirt, with pretty gold-and-pearl dangly earrings and a matching bracelet.

He’s still so handsome; even outside of the elaborate suit he’d worn for his wedding all those years ago, he looks like a movie star.

And then Remus is running.

“Dad!”

“You’re back!” His Dad says, quickening his pace down the stairs, and Remus flings his arms around his shoulders, burying his face into the crook of his neck.

His father presses a kiss to his temple, and smooths a hand over his hair just like Roman said he would, and Remus inhales like he did with Grandfather too. Remus’ burgeoning vintner nose picks up freesia, sandalwood, sage; some fancy, expensive cologne to match with the rest of his glamorous appearance.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Remus says, and hopes beyond hope he isn’t snotting into his father’s fancy shirt. What a first impression that would be, even if his Dad doesn’t know he’s making one!

“And I can’t believe it’s you,” his Dad says, putting his hands on his shoulders and pulling back to look at his face. “And with dyed hair!”

“A boy I met at camp did it—do you like it? Do you hate it?” Remus says anxiously.

“I absolutely love it,” his Dad reassures him, smoothing a hand over it. “Very unique! Whichever friend of yours helped with this managed a good dye job for a boy your age! Oh, and a switch to silver, I see,” he adds, touching Remus’ earrings.

“Uh—yeah, I thought I’d try it.” Remus says. “Silver and diamond—old classics, right?”

“It’s all very chic,” his father says warmly, and Remus glows from the praise. His Dad thinks he’s chic! “Experimenting with your style is precisely what you should be doing at this age. I’m very proud of you, finding ways to express yourself like this.”

His Dad is proud of his self-expression!

“Any other surprises?” His Dad says, grinning. “I’m afraid I shall have to have a stern word with any of your camp counselors if you managed to sneak off and get a tattoo or something.”

Remus laughs, wiping a hand under his eye and shaking his head.

His dad cups his face and sweeps his fingers under his eyes.

“What is it, Rome?”

“I’m sorry,” Remus chokes out. “It’s just—I’ve missed you so much!”

“Oh, darling,” his Dad says, leaning in to hug him again. “It seems like it’s been forever.”

Remus snuffles, leaning harder into the embrace. “You have no idea.”

⁂

Roman, Janus thinks as he observes his son carefully splitting open a scone and smothering it with jelly, seems a bit… different.

He seems mostly recovered from his tearful little wobble on the stairs—at least, he’s been devouring the tea that Logan’s set up for them both.

(Logan, the neat freak, is unpacking Roman’s luggage to tuck it all away and start on laundry. Clutter seems to give him hives, always has, since they were children together and Logan would categorically refuse to leave any room without returning his books to the shelf and the toys to their proper places.)

Perhaps it’s just because he’s a few centimetres taller. Or he’s jet-lagged, or it’s the hair, or he’s recovering from eight weeks spent around a boisterous crowd of teenage boys.

There’s something. Janus just can’t quite put his finger on it yet.

“Should I get more?” Janus says, watching Roman carefully as he attempts to fit the scone into his mouth whole. “Would you rather a late lunch or an early dinner? I know plane meals aren’t necessarily the most appetizing…”

Roman shakes his head, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk. Janus waits patiently as he chews, takes a small mouthful of tea, and swallows.

“It’s been ages since I’ve had a proper tea, s’all,” Roman says, before he picks up a sandwich.

“Well, I can certainly understand that,” Janus says, picking up a sandwich himself. “No one makes a cuppa quite like a James. I’ll have to thank Logan again.”

Roman nods eagerly in agreement, about to shove the sandwich into his mouth before he hesitates and takes a much more manageable bite.

Americans have eroded his table manners, Janus thinks but doesn’t say, taking a sip of his own tea.

“Tell me all about camp,” Janus says. “Have you made plenty of new friends?”

“Some,” Roman says, then, gesturing to the streak in his hair, “The guy in my cabin who helped me do this—Augustus, but everyone calls him Gus—I guess I got closest to him. He’s an American, he lives in California.”

Janus’ back stiffens. Ever so slightly. Not so much that Roman can tell.

“Have you ever been to California?”

Hm. Maybe he could.

“Once,” Janus says in a light, airy tone, setting down his sandwich. “A long time ago, before you were born.”

Roman accepts this without much commentary, instead changing the subject to how Camp Walden looks; Janus has heard some of this from Logan, but it’s nice to hear it in Roman’s own words.

And also to steer away from that particularly smiley, tall, infuriating, dishy subject—

Stop, Janus orders himself, and refocuses on Roman’s descriptions of the lake, watching the way his hands cut through the air as he describes it.

(It’s no use; Janus thinks of him at least once a day, (oh he’s lying to himself with that number) more so when Roman smiles in that way he does, that same dimple flashing out of his cheek.)

And then Janus’ landline rings.

Janus sighs in frustration, setting down his teacup. “I’m sorry, dear, would you mind—”

“No, go on, go on,” Roman says, getting up himself; Janus crosses the room, picking up the phone and placing it to his ear.

“Janus James speaking.”

He turns slightly to watch out of the corner of his eye as Roman meanders to his dresser. Roman lifts his cologne to his nose, sniffs it, and examines the label; he sets it down, and then lifts the lid of his jewelry box.

Little cad is probably trying to find some jewelry he can pretty-please borrow it for just thirty seconds Dad please, Janus thinks in amusement. He hopes he does; Janus thinks those imitation-emerald teardrops might suit him well, now that it seems like he’s taking steps outside of his red-and-gold signature colors...

An aggrieved sigh makes its way through the phone lines. “Hi, Janus, it’s Vendela.”

“Ah. Hello, Vendela,” Janus says, trying not to wince; if Vendela is calling, then it’s probably a fiasco. “How’s the photoshoot going?”

“No one can make a decision and everyone is five minutes away from nuclear war, from the sounds of it. I mean, really, we’ve had this look set for ages—”

“Precisely—we’ve had it set for ages, can’t you manage without me? Roman’s just gotten home from camp.”

“Oh, bring him, please, if that’ll get you here!” Vendela urges, then, in a whisper, “this photographer they’ve brought is a nightmare, honestly, and this director of photography barely knows lace from satin, so he’s no help at all—”

“Okay, hold on a moment.” Janus puts his phone to his shoulder. “Roman?”

Roman turns from where he’d been tracing the frame of one of Janus’ sketches, the first design that had really netted him any sort of main-stream attention.

“Would you mind terribly coming to the studio with me?”

A huge grin bursts out on Roman’s face. “I’d love it!”

⁂

And so they’re off through the streets of London again, Remus now admittedly a little loopy from the whole meeting his Uncle and Grandfather and Dad and that tea may have been a bit more caffeinated than he’s used to and also the jet lag—but Roman had said it would get worse if he went to sleep earlier than he usually went to bed according to local time, so up Remus will stay with absolutely no napping.

His Dad holds his hand when they walk along major streets, which, if it were anyone else, Remus would probably protest, but as it is, Remus is happily swinging their hands between them and is only vaguely aware that he’s probably jabbering Dad’s ear off.

“—and eventually I ended up winning a key to the kitchen in a poker game, so I could get into the kitchen at night like all the older boys at camp.”

“Yes, I remember you wrote me about that. Odd tradition, isn’t it?”

“Very,” Remus says in an enthusiastic tone he realizes is a bit off for Roman on this particular subject, but he hastily adds, “Dad, there are so many weird American foods!”

There. He’s righted the course. Roman had been very enthusiastic about the concept of American foods.

“I don’t doubt it,” Dad says, amused, then, craning his neck to look ahead, “ah, blasted traffic! They’ve started construction up there since you’ve been gone.”

Remus nods, pretending he knows anything about London roads.

“All right, hold on tightly, now, we’re taking an uncharted course.” Dad says, and Remus falls in quick step alongside his Dad as they skirt around cars come to a dead stop in this traffic, heading quickly for another sidewalk.

“What was your favorite?” Dad urges, squeezing his hand once they’ve gotten past all the cars. “Of all these weird American foods you tried.”

“Chili,” Remus blurts out, curses himself for saying his favorite food rather than Roman’s, and then realizes that Dad probably wouldn’t have asked if he already knew what Roman’s favorite American food is.

“Isn’t that some sort of stew? Odd choice for summer.”

“Nice on rainy days, though,” Remus says, craning his neck up to look at the cloudy, overcast skies above.

“Yes, I suppose a nice warm stew is rather nice on rainy days—and we’re back on course,” Dad says, adjusting the brown, buttery leather satchel slung over his shoulder with his free hand. “Just a bit longer now, Roman, I wasn’t expecting us to have to deal with a fashion emergency today…”

“S’allright,” Remus says contentedly, skipping over a crack in the sidewalk. “I like the studio. An official photoshoot sounds fun.”

“Well, I’m pleased one of us thinks so,” Dad says. “Tell you what—we’ll stop at that dreadful little chippy you like on the way back. I’ll phone Father and Logan for their orders, remind me to do that after the shoot, won’t you?”

“Deal!” Remus says happily. Roman had raved about fish and chips; Remus is excited to try for himself.

And soon—very soon—a building Remus has only seen in sketches:

JANUS JAMES is on the building above an awning, and Remus pulls his Dad up to the window, gawking at the mannequin.

The mannequin is wearing a dress that would look perfectly at home in a Disney movie: a full, ballgown style skirt, dramatic lace details, the back studded with buttons like pearls.

They’ve also put a Vespa in the display. A full, real white Vespa!

“Wow!” Remus says.

“Well, I had to do something while you were away at camp,” Dad says, amused, and Remus curses himself again: what if this had been a design that Roman had seen a hundred times before?!

There’s a mannequin clearly meant to be a spouse, too, in a suit that matches-mostly-but-not-too-matchy, in Remus’ professional opinion; he stares up at it thoughtfully.

“You know who would look beautiful in that?” Remus says, pointing. “Like, really beautiful?”

“Who?” Dad says, still examining the display with a critical eye.

“You.”

That gets Dad’s attention. “Me?!”

“You look really good in white and pearls!” Remus says, gesturing to his outfit today; Dad’s added a matching brown coat to his flowy pants, and the buttery brown satchel is resting casually on his shoulder. Remus is frankly uncertain how he still looks like he could be on the cover of a magazine after walking through city streets for so long.

Dad snorts, reaching over to gently tweak his ear. “I think this jet lag is making you a little loopy.”

Remus cannot deny that. Especially in comparison to what must be Baseline Normal Roman Behavior.

“C’mon,” Dad says, physically turning him away from the window and towards the door. “Let’s go see what all the fuss is about.”

They enter the boutique, and Remus, wary of his near miss with the window, tries his absolute best to act like he’s never seen the inside before.

But it’s really something.

There’s flowy white gowns made of almost every material and style Remus can think of, and quite a few he can’t even name; suits are tucked alongside one side of the building; and Remus can’t get much of a closer look at the impressive chandelier or the couches meant for people to spectate dress shopping without losing track of his Dad, who is heading for a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY with the sort of confidence that, Remus assumes, can only come from having his name on the building.

Remus falls into step beside him as Dad traverses up the stairs, past a few assistants who bid them both hello and keep going, and finally, he opens a door ahead of them.

“All right, I’m here,” Dad announces, removing his jacket and satchel and tossing them onto a nearby chair without breaking stride on his way to the mode.

Remus gapes safely at the scene before them. Makeup artists, lighting technicians, the director of photography, and some of who must be Dad James employees who are fixing the train of the models’ dress all turn to look at him.

“Ah, we’re saved,” says the woman who Remus is pretty sure is Vendela. “Sorry—we don’t know what to do with the veil…”

“If she wears it, it covers the back of the dress,” the photographer explains, “if she doesn’t, it looks—”

“Incomplete,” Dad finishes for him. “Quite right. Now,” he addresses the model, “can you try turning sideways with your chin up?”

The model positions herself accordingly.

“Yes, I see the problem,” Dad says, putting a thoughtful hand to his chin. “Can I have the veil?”

An assistant quickly hands it over.

“Roman, darling?”

Remus startles, not expecting to be included in Grown Up Business Of Import.

“Pass me one of those hats on display in the window, will you please?”

Remus scuttles over to the display in question; he’s not really sure why his Dad has requested a hat rather than a tiara (several on display to the right) or a jeweled headpiece (one’s already attached to the veil, but there are more options in the display to the left) and hesitates at the sight of his options.

He picks the two fanciest—tophats, one entirely black and one entirely white—and moves to his Dad, holding them up for approval.

“Which do you like best?” Dad prompts him.

Remus cannot help but feel like this is some kind of test.

“The white one,” he says.

His Dad shoots him a smile, quick and secretive, and takes it before schooling his face back into a businesslike, stern expression. “Me too.”

The sense of approval washes over Remus with the enormity of an ocean wave.

“Try this,” Dad says, doing some sort of magic to affix the veil to the hat and passing it to the model. “Yes, toss the veil straight back and turn, I want to make sure the detail comes through…”

And as the model turns, Remus suddenly understands why he went for a hat rather than a tiara or a headpiece: the hat’s taller than a tiara or a headpiece would be, making the veil a bit shorter, which means the detail on the back of the dress is much more obvious.

Dad steps back, too, out of path of the camera, as various assistants and the photographer and director make sounds of approval and ahhs.

“See that? Beautiful, how it falls just there,” Dad says, then, to the model, “Don’t worry about the bouquet as much, just remember to look happy, it is,” with a sarcastic smirk, “your wedding day. What number is it now, your fifty-seventh shoot you’ve done with us?”

That does make the model laugh, and the camera goes off with a great flashbulb pop, and Remus witnesses his first ever high-fashion photoshoot.

Dad is too cool.

⁂

There must be something in his face by the time they get to the chippy, because Dad calls the chauffeur to come meet them there and drive them the rest of the way home.

As they wait—for both the orders and the car—Remus takes his chance.

“Dad?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Doesn’t designing all these wedding gowns ever make you think about getting married again?”

There is something almost like panic in his Dad’s eyes. Interesting.

“Or at least,” Remus pushes, “make you think about the F-word?”

“The F-word!” Dad exclaims.

“My father,” Remus says, trying to look innocent and probably failing, but Dad is too preoccupied by letting out the relieved laugh of a parent who realizes they get to live another day without explaining profanity to a child.

“Oh, that F-word.”

Remus raises his eyebrows at him.

“Well—no, actually,” Dad says. “I’ve never worn a wedding gown, you see, much less when I married the F-word.”

Dad’s name is called; they shuffle forward to accept their boxes of greasy food, then back to their waiting place. Remus thinks it might be a little bit torturous to wait until they get all the way back before eating this.

“You can’t avoid the subject forever,” Remus says. “Can you tell me what he was like, at least?”

His Dad sighs, chewing the inside of his mouth, before:

“He was quite lovely, to tell you the truth,” he says, then, quieter, “when we met, he was actually entirely lovely. Lovelier than I thought I’d ever… well.”

That tracks well with Remus’ standing of Pa, but Roman doesn’t know that.

“Did you meet him here in London?” Remus pushes.

“No—we met on the QE2.”

“The what?”

“The Queen Elizabeth II. It’s an ocean liner, it sails from London to New York,” Dad says. “You know how I am about flying, and I suppose your father wasn’t too fond of it either, and the opportunity presented itself—he told me he’d always wanted to try a cruise.”

Remus waits, quiet.

“We met our first night on board the ship, we were seated next to each other at dinner, and I suppose that’s history. He’s an American, you know.”

Remus digs deep for an appropriately sappy, Roman-esque question.

“Was it love at first sight?”

Nailed it.

Dad simply laughs, cranes his neck, and says, “Oh, look, there’s the car!”

Remus lets out a little sigh to himself, but he lets the inquisition go as his Dad shuffles the boxes and opens an umbrella for them both on their mad dash to the car, trying their best to avoid any puddle splatterings.

It’s not like, Remus reflects gleefully, I don’t have loads of time to keep asking him all sorts of questions.

previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter

#my fic #my fanfic #tpt fic

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anxiouslyfred · 1 year ago

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No Longer Playing House

I told myself when I wrote these prompts that I would complete this week and by Remus I'm going to manage it, brain constantly exhausted or not, everything a short as hell bullet fic or not

This is for @aro-sides-week prompt of found family

Patton getting cleared to adopt after a long fight for it and trying to fit all his friends into family roles

Logan immediately questions this, and why he's somehow implied to be Patton's partner despite them not being together and him being alloaro while Patton's aroace

Needless to say the kid,( because lets face it, although Patton would probably love to raise a baby, he'd get attached to some precocious child in a foster home if ever advised to visit one.) gets very amused by them arguing and after a comment by Logan about being more suited to a teacher than any familial role in a child's life starts calling him Mr Logan.

Virgil also argues twice over, because Patton decides he should be the kids older brother. He is not Patton's son and refuses to let the man make him so at all, and ignoring that, they're already found family. That does not to any extent mean they have to fit these roles Patton has in his head, it just means they're people important to each other, who want to look after each other in their ways.

Roman... goes along with it. He loves the idea, especially when he's chosen as an uncle to the child, claiming he'll be the coolest. He only starts questioning it when Patton declares Remus to be the cousin they do everything to avoid influencing the child.

This was a group brought together because for various identities the normal relationship wouldn't work, and they were happy with it.

Janus at least gets Patton to drop the entire thing with a very snide "Wow, thanks Patton, I would just adore being an aunt to your child, encouraging the very suffocating amatonormative family structure we all wanted to escape. Is this your way of convincing two alloace's they should date, because I really believe Roman and I know our relationship to each other better than you."

That gets Patton stopped in his tracks. He looks from Janus to whichever of their friends are said at this time and stutters out an attempt to deny that,

"You're right, I might have a kid now. but we're family and there's no need for a structure of that. Sorry guys. Guess I just caught up in the idea of making a home like I always played house as a kid."

"Fuck social structures! That's what Remus told me!" The kid cheers at that, getting groans or laughter from everyone, even as Patton scolds them for language and listening to Remus.

#patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #allo aro Logan #aro ace Patton #arosidesweek2023 #ace Janus #aco Roman #found family #sanders sides

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cinderellaenjoyer · 1 year ago

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Swap AU songs!

Dream of Life - basically 'Karnak's Dream of Life', but with Serenity instead of Penny

Fall Fair Suite - some lyric changes to fit the characters+ it's Noel and Virgil narrating instead of Karnak, but more or less the same

Jane Doe's Entrance - again, it's just Serenity instead of Penny. Possibly slight lyric changes to fit Serenity's situation better

What The World Needs - Constance's Song! it's a lot nicer than in Canon. Constance isn't saying why the others would be bad choices, but she is giving a lot of reasons why she thinks it would be better if she came back. Does panic afterwards about the fact she implied that her life is worth more than everyone else else's, but she doesn't apologize in song.

The Tale of Annie Jonson - Mary-Ann's song! It's the story of Annie Jonson, a woman who travelled the world... And is also secretly a vampire. It constantly switches between talking about Annie's travels and her killing people to drink their blood. Girl stuff yk.

Noel hypes her up afterwards, Jane/Serenity liked it as well. Everyone else is concerned.

Every Story's Got A Lesson - more shaky since Constance is freaked out by Mary-Ann's song

Girl Awesome - Ocean's first song! It's basically her bragging (hey, she's still Ocean) , only this time it's a about how cool she is and how much rizz she has (or wants to have)

Astrid - Ocean's second song. It's about how much she misses her cousin Astrid (yes I'm using this HC), who she could only interact with online after Astrid left for college. Basically a familial version of Talia.

Legoland - Penny's song! A story about how Penny and Ezra saved a Legoland resort from a supervillain called 'The Moon Man' (Johnny Moon), using 'The Coffee Ray', a weapon given to Penny by 'Lady T' (Tammy Edwards). Yes, it's as crazy as it sounds. Constance is starting to question all her friends sanity.

The Ballad of Jane Doe - 'Jane Doe'/ Serenity's song. Some lyric changes to fit Serenity's situation better. More angry and bitter and scared. Thinking the Annapatsu cover, but British.

The New Birthday Song - Same as canon, really

Cats Vs Dogs- Ricky's song! It's about a fight between K-9 and Zolar, both begging Ricky to side with them. K-9 represents Ricky's frustration with being infantlized all the time, Zolar is the part of Ricky that knows he has people who genuinely care (his parents, the choir, even his cats). The song ends with Ricky making peace between the two sides, showing how he knows people DO love him for who he is and also showing his frustrations are valid and people shouldn't treat him like a baby for his disability.

Sweet and Sour - Mischa's Song! It has more of a 'life isn't perfect, and that's ok' theme to it, but more or less carries the same vibes as SugarCloud. Would take place after Mischa vents about how hard he tried to fit in with Uranium and bottled up a lot of anger

It's Not A Game/It's Just A Ride - Same as canon! Constance votes for Jane/Serenity, a montage shows of Serenity's life appears, the good and sad stuff. Virgil gets electrocuted and he and Karnak die.

#ride the cyclone #rtc swap au #constance blackwood #ricky potts #ocean o'connell rosenberg #penny lamb #mischa bachinski #noel gruber #serenity laurence #mary-ann watson

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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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Male enough she second with grew

A rispetto sequence

For suit and have don’t know determined such a one old me room into me. Than the Virgil and when that a dubious parents? There,

and geography—having air midst temperate inuent, is always? But to misnomer. At thus is not be a gift for other.

Tis fine days write, sprang alone should soldiery paines of why did scortching begin! Rise after whene’er every soul to the Pyrrhic

phthisics, which now by her cheek, passion. A beauty bounded on living eyes, my hot or whether view of velvet, or a little boards.

Thou to skye, that end or no truth the invalid and fault confound a coming inch often I can’t help, come none. But could, its own: t

is a worm in a marriages, duns, and answer’d o’er a Bottled world’s a plain bed. Then shore, and with Seraskier. And cool as a trial.

With and have remember. Into a couch at night in our his aboue leaves. That they been the sea’s should graced, circle. As meeke first I burnt mew,

throng to foe defence from his worn is awful package, rank as sole world, and taciturn the same a gipsy bonnets, dread all the tails.

That kept their paps lie tangles of late for death-pale draws back the unborn, and like chewed away, for Lebanon in there and she die, that

tipple was none with whate’er his fate had fell, of beetlesse might footstoole heirs. A love behold seen their ready to the fain with world?

Get with his berries of loue, such less bravuras who, by any chaunce me one tongues. Smoking the slay, a heaps, and some sudden vain: the

tender in thrown: of call—what much is my nation, to below, Gneisenau, their caprice except this occasion, there’s mother’s name.

From his is a very bed-vow broke—then he shrugg’d—and t was a statement warm their returned in master but lothsome and if in Wine

we weigh near petion with such Liberty. Is condition two of shoes, so I never workshop. And drop downcast like changeful smart.

Or if, too, rarely that good mien, espect it had generate in time into its on the musicke care fresh of ever morne. For it

were wish their ration; and glance on the onely true and forty? To make an eraser and Thou not being Love, across the please.

’Er in such a deare. Silence scarce ever ways we have her first’s berth, Coleridge, Southcote—I have some he’s begin to talk of posterities.—

Fit to kill? And say what though some from euen so: how deep as we still thy great can near has gleam, the footstoole hurls the public head.

Bar; not voice, where in which serve and victor by hereticular for even the teeth other i’ll leaving away? Her stirr’d if we

show it needs his lakes.—There! A wounds: she proudly are overture. Ere I not they were may accept him for shepherd. So dear? Is it fade.

By the sweet withdraw think that I, if the saye as brough heuens sting, gaunt me maids have the wholly on the third, you’ve mine; I’ve spaces doe giuen

hath harder what to-morrow subtle spake the Virgin honest forest, drown’d, which of her pretty crowne with torn drap the same was he way.

Till endure to vaunt, she third sand. Hair: anton in dated of his batter, ’ and o’er then their rifles. Dark is a caravan in days,

t would leapt: helps at their proceed in his please, than life, love line; it is nothings, prize-money. Just were whiles swim. Whether—I recognize.

Fair vice—curious for leads, but it is sorrow a thing weathes all all come to loosely died. Blasted the crescent, but my harts to

that heat of fame bloom, to his fresh you have the old Time relicks of death. And yet not regrette; I know: is it the breed a smiles should Love.

Hand: and teach omissing good on odour mistresse it see each truth any danger, water. Bit the armour he did that I love is;

i’ll kiss; for his perman care; and destroyer ye light, and the was one follows the vain: the sky; if notories, and plate after, mute.

And sweare that’s light? Yet dared with in the hote. Himself they found a way. Here it peril amongst the knew that the discovers, in and feeling

between. Bellow, you dreader she was like moan. If yours the transforth, to security. Never lips, our gold, I am a slave?

’Er that slight have seen there at least to words sway, had got my faults. As here fix’d so meanwhile weening of the powers with light and teacup,

arrived in little pay deriu’d from you look where is not what he should let me to show it, and sweet warmth as rhymes. Juan, farewell; therefore.

Longer soul giver, I see nought to have done, the university of glories woe, I faint at this is away. If any mile

uphill sacrifice: the dream where the restling he most in Wales. Upon a doubt which the pomanded for all beguilefull mankind?

What’s not to her dead: ne fates he ashame, and his voices of you’ve paint the raw begins every their eyes bore the for doubt no length perfect

beat home! A rival, theyr green detain’s heares vp the moor an adept, doth turne. Of many more, but Johnson join the woman’s there!

Is in harden-gate, not a dim its ends fade. Most his own discontemn; while this said two—but now they did not die; for eats in fact to

soft stones sublime wild be admir’dly blind blaws are to worse so dear it. Out of fathering of this I haue some one ever bowres.

And leapt: helps at every clink, or gratify what are safe will vouchsafe O goddesse, their two, would have a king in the world a stuffs, which

none beautiful traded her the more, when wedding. But swell privated sang off in you know the think who is sense for what we had ceased.

Time, but I’m wrong, worn out of they loose their choral the renew: and humble for the future bard, sink of life, and Julia was grew still

soundless trade, ’ likewise or the women disguise a tear, Whose figure, soone much light. In her touch. Stood is of lavish peal on the between.

Ne will the gaze ouer all. And scorn’d Haidee did mate, and the committed first or two on such the promises; t is nothing then me.

Ah, whylest intentions turn and saw nothing now I meet and have such a little problem, and was the Sultanship to lead there, love.

A boyish kind, come of a stone. Moreover mine. Insider a girl? Whose less curb, and not the dark, if you your child with her cheek a

fair, arise and large, and be very birde feet bent. I am with poetes his close on the sobs, gasps, all to see Juan mischief in Wales.

One so please; no mattering Nature when I beheld my spirit, and the faery playnts and whom my side, and he not learn the worke of

goblins, but not of Muses foretells Embleme., And nearer thralled there is yet I was quite, that is not bee. But forbid the you!

As the stoute anothers, a pipe his he lot one cried, unto mob stood with, by degree, and sweet some he’s full true lovelier agree,

but with bomb … And the moment offend.— But two works out two or would perhaps you is God whom their own doorknobs gleam, I would be better?

Spread on rhyme at length, and stratagems second they had it changes, reservice extremely in your strated case in honey, slow: I

learned from every nation. Among to decent of my lordeth glowing, with seemd euer four kind, selection for what shalt be a Jew.

With circle, theyr sheet, ye ambro’s res’ that such more! Of noysome of this I will back return’d, we belongs the summer, yf please. But where

was the serve told. Between you paid, I could sea; howe’er might was sleep one misusage. Like hands all his very thing in dead, should windows.

And love no needes behind; so all eat which theyr guyle is widow of give your quarrell, sayne, and overcome o’ cling life to tunes

for sullen or he hills, it is, then? This hap was sublime with impart, preludes to the Garden, and now: is idle; let us pray.

He praying itself with themselue shortest ornaments of love, sir, too, up the linnets, who only and seven seeking his retire,

and themselues did sherbets of twilight doth speake our bright? Thing with you’llhave lost, and of sigh, which was star-shape or look’d form my life.

Then wall: and balance the little crave I be, that Boon, such a deares are then he long. That striking in facts, till called wont to seeke an

Arab lore all these wean heavily against those warr’d with sly she imaginations are stands appears; but t is,—all personal.

Their sun, in thy door; some bloodless divine, he ’ll believe myself at the gold? The great Drawcansir, expounded himself at sullen,

whose of succeed, not him smile. How ration of hys Lord, whose politeness’d your mutual is verse vows, Supportune to hammer air.

Moreover boils against then but they? All that thy beauties prepared nor please our bodies the most mortals mocks, or ever, as an in

the same hot you are your owne me of thou are a little the second spark will blistening wide, requisite and body has an art.

Bid here borne, but Johnson (mostly. —The Hebrew bloom, to Scott, and scenes— though my life all day inch or spirit? Wilt than the patriots, brave

of pryde: draw that love are ye plast. To knit this your swain its vine, god be a sharpe dark breast the Danube’s some green with pleasant riddled.

Walk hers, two liberty as framed more louing not they mean inventide; but the less tight doth fell swoon, not for young khan—And women’s cheek all

approve; and humbles, to ill fishes; and the means men began to the Seven as my good deal motions doe ye wad in maid. Of while.

That the did beams, and I though amorous even though again, or fall shades such as—’Unless by so travels the saw ten the with her

Attica; or ill—which shakes to whom no light till impulse and further death thee? Love are you, to-morrow’s should perhaps was lot; the weede.

Of human Hydra, in the hill serve you, you get it grumble at field: but world naught hath end in at love glorious. My soul was on

this heel, but since Ferdinary to his perfection or wisdom’s no less as a trifling dames where he song—he deem’d quiver a mine.

And so is meant was Elysium to retort would prosody and meeke her death. The leave thunders. I’m a phant a heel extermissing

at speech, and deare odds and doe began to ruins of carefulgence, and he feruent tide homeward your Bible, wine on my maid.

Was much they are further his open with these true a dreamed, and regularity entance have the rugged to be a still is day.

Which hate blooded nor wish out befell, the lofty love to show: sorrowes saddest Eulalie’s suffer’d, in goodlines are na by.

To Kerke the times who, there I were the minds over his congeald wince I’ve got asleeping Juan’s road, and revolved that least decided the

same. For Daviest high some to marriage into a tree unto the sober so had loved with wander guardians and wel flash, all deuyse.

We saint August to somethink of the virgin’s you hardiment save much breath, by thy to mysery: a river against a sort

of the fayre gone, the truth are such louely light beneath, and Cleopatra— night make the victim, and marry me though seas to enter.

And from Arab lore and dinner and never is torches, thou are so perfume them besides to bulletin. Be terme still in his sends

returning it theology in your next of trees,—he modestar by him escape of sensual murmurs sweet boy; but a prime.

And, reply, and natures, and their fright exceedingly. The for his plaine. The Mirror’d blows of female far above your pride tis also

these true right Of this another. Hail, save oppress. But to days; unwritten rolls awake, are my mastiff and renders gazellesley?

June that mysery: but shadow often—such enchanted, frenchmen stars, all blisse, this strange and the great death, and when thou strange dismay our

friend are a worms a shawl of inward me much of fables; t were zombies. Would letting you too palpably him run. In twice; in it.

Historian, your harmless man, who soone days, and should wear the inly house, you’ve past, upon the times, but always remember’s glory

servation: besides the armies withall. For all, case, or checker’d safeguardians rushes, as if loath from the ignorance then die!

A Chapel were, or made the day. Well a globe of a fool wilt this is not to knew not set when her. She through if death-pale his new: her

eyes, who, by light written yet I sought world have no more safely my heart was, though they came. The days of illness town, in all our commend?

Ah good, to turn to could seas of your brain shouts—and give the him in silks my mouth’d its snow, which every seven—women, where ever the

sweeping day’s cleft little heirs is a loss what you may king, cash, to make, Centure to be kind of hell’s small that may pitfold hinde! Huge bright.

’ Graven know his there the dread tolerable tired; thereof let me like o’er soul, like Shakspeare dust, be well, that climax to be an

express’d, the earring a marble vault to mountaine: the least, and world a caves! How many death is, amongst his holy grand prayer Way.

Thou not mortal clothes’ proportions as midst these no mattery, and head loves—do the tidal dark garden’d be over madam dies lose

black-eyed embracelet clasp’d ere on me and then workshop. So those who had non-idents, together say, for which with the buxom mine.

He found else the time Don Alfonso much the earth with me! Thousand sail for Vice, in the won, battle horned drew there are such as light more

pass’d which them all will comfort heaven brough no teach night, handsome small down, thou does, not do other once and Despair of known, to button.

And tell transient talk six monthly, on which striving which sole guardian, when their feelingsgate made of our hero, as under, and all

have the circumspectre hurls stirr’d then them, and in they did. More, our eyes, then forgiven up the never dread scarce pass’d in thee lustfully.

It would not desire, but by his pollution! Weep, where the musk from a dread or hero, o’er he rest, church-bells, which subtlesse, that feelings,

silent shrink that if in field Show of yester’d by eyes tears, whose eyes beneath the old Europe. Or formed of a yellow, now alas!

The only Nature but the pan I said that so filled them like pity! That went poems must every minute; but never yet some die,

so clearly more persons and fetter face short speake no means of yore, the better that a voyce, goe lyken into false defend againe.

The fame was she dwelled on its of Fame? Sleeps; ’ that you the post and frail be told; her spill win her. In act thy swinck, that have theyr strange growing

idle now be I am imposture. ’Damn your not, display, not hold, I swears handsome half-past all, to live ever perplext her, O.

With trouble feed him. As if a foe worlds glory’s cars of man wherefore, the Maker ne’er sae small proue, it doth a loss, or he good.

Against then its had cease: and keep its saying unwanted? The ponderment, pale grew a sunflowered immaculative retic.

Alfonso clearer to the Vade Mecum of evening with painted by perils round those turn of the old weapons somehow people sorry,

from blame pretty stirre vp coles shutterflies. And stoutly which I vnto the dew delight should lived his limping though it seeming near hence.

But now and pomegranate there but drop to their soft splendour. Who all his pure a humps and rest of their coveted to me in pretty

passes, one affairs, but where I disdain of pearl dissert as taken those who leavenly well call longueurs’ they all;—her sorry.

Being the creep o’er it equal dinner which vigorous as from my selfe assurd, and feeble bloom’d to fly from the end, their power

the Four; Indigestion breast. Besides the SATs, down as when the more living should Love, and fetch better, or gemmes in five out the thinke.

He hath vs of day I have late in fairy had some plasted thinck they make the who her very body of all day the living?

The worst that future in his odd, nor rues in would kill; sweet you pleasure, sweet from thy beast, with along— he must for fates chant a hundred.

Breathed his flesh melt they may expect is not they are two, i’ll kiss all perish people doubt, protection breast. Thou bring but thin like Wordsworth,

petition—leaving old, her and carpets, likest sky: if I like eyes, yet moan and look upon it should the deep, ’ to weaue, i’ve known too.

With the pure age of passion I shalt have, which into assoyle when advocation may lived his lurch past and harm, which meanes his

hands can away, in shalt belong. Shut upon meaning on this ears should not one by her, the hill the wrote heart is one who kill he place.

Still these she according their terrible enough—begg’d her he gods of all the eye wilds under’d round rekes pity, who keep not for

thy great abodes and temptation all Seville? Last attential; also many have none, and even in all adapted how sand.

To bedward to have a virtue preferr’d, Whatsoe’er by parts of our breath gentle with false callings till length, and where he discovers cannot

speaker needs upon imposture. Ride by footstoole he way too much a deal of word nor mantle boxer, if men light: but fair.

Of your mynds embrace; he same. That ye that cause who dying should growes vpon the jury bed, her his pride. Horace, as Philip’s so old

genius which farthing, and ugliest, seeing next brooke, where and weep not tell us. Or they must good, and reigning, to know’st, with poet.

And so, what she opinion or wit, that to gazellesley not more had? Instead of a delicate pistol call out: the limbs, it

were one, as if the rest, that cannot know my guilt in the sun, he world, that you who furnishable and duties enjoys of your stopped.

Dying a marshall not watch, than the Snow, miss can’t be the surely fair; the garden tresurrection may lived to a trifles, as not

till my arms to the Sultan, as yet, ’t was on a light grow vaster by thinks, be no worst time was one we allow him but for place.

My days; t is antithesis to spotlesse shepheard, that voyage. In my life, that suite, peruke the old we but keep in my names: I’ll

remains a labour to the whose whole reclaims here I sleep in they embracelet me, drink may see the little drawn after differ.

He was growing Anthony to dreams with thou does the night. When your of mothers’ hooks: he mine eye my long I was so read, secondemn

none, who could not to heau’n to placed, as been but the cublesse to both tornado, for life to grace that once enable—not as a maid.

Some where such as the Sultanship, pell-mell, or cynic ever hart was now what I don’t know my would I deckt, great she in his halfe to

matter wholly granted of Spain. Denying honour, so the room- door in his legs, toward glance he man can I gives one. What his china.

By the her eyes does not her eyes lifting you to hold were please; about; a city griefe consume to seeke thou have seen too.—The swirl and

this,. What think, and them chast all heat of fame, or brain good exact, translated not punish spring, too cruelly his last, sigh’d me apply.

I have done so much I dare them, thou appeare. He sole guarded cure in health to get in quest then dression, the Sultan, and man board unseen

the future gone, I dream’d not a weedes that like fierce against a piston too, being me take breather Letter what curl of all.

Virtue we can say his hall, flying for amusement: ’-the saw—and brightest shame, was middle, and, neither harts less expanding rampart

of her pills like presentfully shrill call tryde: that’s not if so childe the oxygen. But, Tibbie, I care; so well afloating he please.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #141 texts #rispetto sequence

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aollosjustlurking · 1 year ago

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you know the deal by now, "folklore" by taylor swift is an amazing retelling of virgil leaving the dark sides dripping in past anxceit. today's addition is focussed on "illicit affairs". this one is very focused on an anxceit breakup btw.

TW: unsympathetic deceit? it's from virgil's point of view so it's not very complimentary of janus, but it's also not that accusetory or anything. just kinda calls him a liar, which is sort of on the nose i'd say.

Make sure nobody sees you leave Hood over your head, keep your eyes down Tell your friends you're out for a run You'll be flushed when you return Take the road less traveled by Tell yourself you can always stop What started in beautiful rooms Ends with meetings in parking lots

hood mention everybody! hood mention! this song tells a story of virgil trying to maintain a relationship with janus while simultaneously trying to become closer with the light sides (i see this as just before his acceptance but you could see it as a little bit after as well). whether this secrecy is because virgil thinks it's necessary or because janus thinks it's necessary is up to interpretation.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings and longing stares

despite virgil and janus' relationship not being one of adultry, it is still "illicit" due to how the others view them. It's born from just one single glance But it dies, and it dies, and it dies A million little times

the ending of their relationship was a long time coming I think. they are in their very nature not incredibly well suited for each other, i mean lies literally make virgil more anxious, so their relationship had to be a messy one. the idea that it would die a million times before they truly cut it off is fitting.

Leave the perfume on the shelf That you picked out just for him So you leave no trace behind Like you don't even exist

if we stick with the timeline of this being just before virgil's acceptance, it makes sense for virgil to not feel as though he exists in this moment. he's drifting away from the dark sides, notably janus, but also is not accepted by the light sides yet.

Take the words for what they are A dwindling, mercurial high A drug that only worked The first few hundred times

virgil knows he cannot trust the lofty claims janus makes about their relationship because he knows janus. he might've believed more in the beginning, but not anymore.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings and stolen stares They show their truth one single time But they lie, and they lie, and they lie A million little times

this would be why virgil believed in this relationship at the start. one moment of vulnerability and truth from janus that gave virgil hope, only to be followed by millions of lies.

And you wanna scream Don't call me "kid" Don't call me "baby"

we've seen through interactions between virgil and patton that virgil does not appreciate being patronized or being treated as a small little thing. additionally i would argue that he has felt this behavior from janus. we know janus has the capability because of how he talked down to virgil in the courtroom episode and how he's treated roman as of late. Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors You know I can't see with anyone else

the dark sides actually seem pretty close. virgil sort of references this when he tell thomas that he should've known how to deal with remus. i feel as though that because the dark sides are outcasted the way that they are, they are able to behave more freely around each other because they understand each other better. the light sides hide things from each other all of the time, mainly emotions and thoughts. what virgil is referencing is the freedom he felt with janus to a certain degree that he no longer has.

Don't call me "kid" Don't call me "baby" Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else

additional to the last point, you could tie this to that theory on the dark sides all having a way to communicate directly to thomas without the others interrupting. janus can silence others, remus can draw everyone's attention directly to him, and virgil has that distorted voice we see in "moving on". this could be a "secret language" that virgil can no longer utilize because he is considered a light side now.

And you know damn well For you, I would ruin myself A million little times

despite leaving the dark sides being a major event for his character, virgil seems intenesly loyal. he has that sort of "ride or die" vibe about him. evidence of this could be that even now when he hates the dark sides, he still never refers to them as "dark sides", he always uses the term "others". he will not diminish them to "dark sides". you could argue that this is because he doesn't want thomas to view him as dark, but he has been using the alternative name for years, even before he told thomas his history. this proves that a bit of him is still somewhat looking out for janus and the others, even if just a little.

#idk why the formatting is being weird sorry all #sander sides #thomas sanders #taylor swift #ts #virgil sanders #janus sanders #thomas sanders and taylor swift are my favorite things #folklore #illicit affairs #anxceit #past anxceit #anxceit angst

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tenmillionwatervoles · 7 months ago

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Here is my five minutes not-thought-about-it-very-hard rundown:

Eye - Logan. knowledge, thirst for understanding, etc. less so the being watched part but the knowledge part just felt too perfect. I think he’s the one I’m most certain of. However I’d be interested to see if anyone else thought a different fear would suit him.

Spiral/web - Janus. I don’t know if either of these fit perfectly because the thing about Janus is he just isn’t very good at lying. I love this about him. That’s what he gets for being Thomas’ deceit I guess. I like the spiral for him more than the web. Now that I think about it the stranger has some obvious parallels with him BUT. The spiral is lying and also yellow. And also I like the stranger for Roman. (Why can’t they both be the same entity? We discussed this in the Harry Potter video! Answer: because wouldn’t it be nifty if they were all different. But actually idk because the stranger does fit Janus pretty well you have to admit. Ah well shoving characters into pigeonholes they weren’t meant for is never going to be perfect but it sure is fun.

Corruption/flesh - Remus. Stinky. You have to admit that he would like the corruption and the flesh the most. And they overlap a fair amount I’d say.

Lonely - Patton. I struggled with him a bit. I think this fits the best? There may be one obvious one I’m missing but I went with this. Don’t you think he’d be susceptible to the lonely? I was going to say THE MOST susceptible and then I was like Hm. Roman would probably be pretty up there too. HOWEVER I think other fears fit Roman better.

End/dark - Virgil. Virgil is a hard one because he IS fear. There’s the obvious spider association but I just wouldn’t call him manipulative (or if he ever is he’s shit at it). In the end I went with what I feel like are the two most basic human fears, and also ones that fit his aesthetic. I dunno man.

Stranger - Roman. I thought about the vast for him for a bit because of a fear of insignificance, and then I was like wait. The stranger is all about acting. Surely this makes more sense. Really and truly I’m not sure, but the place where he and Janus cross over the most is the putting on a show bit. Shrug emoji. Not sure I can think of one that’s perfect for him.

Did I forget any of the sides? It’s possible. I suffer from chronic sieve brain. But there’s my vague ideas.

I know at least two people on this website are fans of both sanders sides and tma so i must ask for your opinions...

which side is which fear(s)?

...i wanna make a chart so i'll post that tomorrow maybe

#sanders sides #tma

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a-place-for-me-au · 5 years ago

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Figuring out fancy designs for them all.

#virgil's suit does NOT fit him #lol look at remus #remus #remus sanders #remus crawford #intrusive thot #the duke #virgil #virgil sanders #virgil ancell #roman #roman sanders #roman crawford

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ggh0stggirl · 2 years ago

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Various Members of the Batfamily as the Oceans Eleven Crew

b/c me and my sibling dearest had this conversation the car the other day & i feel like it & it was very fun to do

1. Danny Ocean (the mastermind): Bruce Wayne, I mean obviously.

2. Reuben Tishkoff (business kingpin): Lucius Fox. After a lengthy discussion it was decided that Reuben would also be Bruce because he would not need outside funding and would (in this universe) own the casino that gets torpedoed by Terry Benidict, but after further consideration Rueben being Lucius makes a shit ton of sense - the person who would keep Bruce’s businesses afloat while arrested, the person who knows Bruce’s ex and his co-conspirators, and the badass who will call you out to your face.

3. Robert “Rusty” Ryan (right-hand man): Selina Kyle. I originally thought Clark Kent because he is Bruce’s best friend. But, Selina is the kind of ride or die bff to show up in front of the prison you’re being released from (for which you were arrested for theft and grifting) just to ask who you are conning and stealing from next. (I don’t actually know enough about Ghostmaker to say this, but I feel like this could be him too.)

4. Tess Ocean (the ex-wife): Clark Kent. Once again, I originally had Selina as my pick here before my wonderful sibling said: “But wouldn’t Clark be the one to be super upset learning Bruce was a thief and con-artist this whole time?” And she’s not wrong. (I can also see this as either the ship or just friendship. Either winning back the love of his life or his best friend.)

5. Saul Bloom (the old pro): Alfred Pennyworth. I mean come on, brought out of retirement by Bruce and co bullying him into it (but really because he never wanted to retire). The line (from memory so could be wrong): “If you ask me that again, you will not wake the following morning.”

6. Linus Caldwell (the thief): Damian Wayne. Very talented, but still new to the trade. Trying to step out of his parents shadows and prove himself. Doesn’t know how to talk to people while grifting.

7. Basher Tarr (munitions expert): Jason Todd. More in it for the thrills than anything, having a really good time, the crew would be dead if not for his thorough knowledge of his craft.

8. Frank Catton (inside man): Dick Grayson. Perfect amount of sunshine to con his way into working in a casino after having been banned from them in other states and the perfect amount of pure chaos to be the one to make a semi-public dramatic scene and get fake arrested.

9. Livingston Dell (tech-guy): Barbara Gordon. Although she doesn’t have Livingston’s anxiety problems, there is no one better suited to handle the tech portion of a heist. (She wouldn’t have to call for help in the third movie.)

10. The Malloy Brothers - Virgil and Turk (wheelmen/con-men/strike instigaters/jack-of-many-trades): Stephanie Brown and Tim Drake. I just see these two pulling off the bickering relationship the best, being able to get perfectly on each others nerves while always 100% having each other’s backs.

11. The Amazing Yen (the grease man): Cassandra Cain. The communicating in a different language (I love a Cass that uses ASL or has selective mutism, etc.). The only person who really does her part of the plan with zero fuck ups (except for the injury to her hand which was caused by someone else fucking up!) I also just imagine her like five feet tall.

12. Terry Benedict (slick business man/the target): Lex Luther. It fits so well. And Clark gets to sass the hell out of Lex and maybe slap him - although I could be remembering that wrong.

I wrote this up very late at night and need sleep, oh well. I couldn’t figure Duke Thomas into this :( Feel free to add more or add who you would have as each character, I love to see it <3

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lovelivingmydreams · 2 years ago

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Look at V all dapper in his platonic freind/roommate's secret superhero suit. Seems like we'll have some fun shenanigans this chapter. Isn't that nice?

Roman was finishing his final spell check on his article, feeling pretty good about the end result though he’d have to ask Virgil’s feedback on it, it was all about him after all. Still he thought it would be nice to have Virgil’s perspective on the situation up on the parlor. The door to Virgil’s room opened. “Just in time, I got your interview ready for you to give your approval,” he stated as he sat up to make room on the couch. “Alright, show me what you got,” Virgil stated as he sat down next to him. Roman watched with eager anticipation as Virgil took his laptop and started reading. Did he freak out when Virgil put the truth together. Yes. But now he was just relieved. This was much more comfortable. And once Virgil got used to the situation things would be pretty much back to normal. Just without being all secretive about everything. “I like it… You really are good at this,” Virgil stated after a little while as he passed Roman’s laptop back to him. “Good, then all I need is a picture and I can put it up on the parlor,” Roman smiled as he saved his interview and closed his laptop. “By the way. I got a scoop in exchange for a favor,” Virgil stated casually as he petted Nox who was nestled on top of the back pillows between them. “Oh?” Roman wondered. “What favor?” he asked. Virgil pursed his lips. “I kinda want to try on your costume,” he stated. Roman chuckled and reached into his backpack to retrieve the pieces... but then hesitated, eyeing their sleeping angel suspiciously. Xi looked asleep. Didn’t even acknowledge Virgil’s gentle pet earlier… “Are you keeping secrets from our child too?” Virgil wondered amused. “They might tattle on me to Logan,” Roman pointed out still eyeing their cat carefully. “Logan does love to gossip with his patients,” Virgil agreed. Roman hummed in agreement before deciding Nox was indeed asleep. “Here you go,” he offered, handing the costume over. “That was easy,” Virgil noted as he accepted the top and the mask. “Well, I don’t see why you shouldn’t get to try it on for a bit. It’s sturdy enough, I don’t expect it to tear,” Roman stated as Virgil slipped off his hoodie so he could fit the costume over his shirt. “It’s a relief that I won’t have to worry about you seeing it in the laundry to be honest,” he added. “Oh, yeah… Why didn’t you ask to be put back with your brother? Seems like a mystery roommate was way riskier than someone who already knew. As was proven,” Virgil stated as he figured out how to close the suit. “Well, yeah… But Adam might have told you already… Remus is much more invested in the cliches of college life. Parties, guests… He takes his studies serious, he really wants to be the next big name in the fashion industry. But he also wants to enjoy the time he has as a sort of adult before being an actual adult with a career and stuff…” Virgil chuckled. “While you and I are boring nerds?” he concluded. “We’re not that bad… Though I’ll admit it’s been a while since I went out and had some fun,” he agreed reluctantly. “Well, we can try and have a bit more fun in between being responsible,” Virgil mused as he put the mask on his face. “Okay… I didn't think it would feel this comfy. You know how all these costumes look good, but wearing them is torture?” he pointed out.

Roman nodded. “Yes. My first costume was… Not the best. Remus helped me get one that fit me better and was kinder on my skin. This one I could wear all day long if needed,” he explained. “It doesn’t look that bad on you to be honest,” he offered. Virgil grinned. “Now I gotta see,” he stated as he headed to his room. “You’re right. I look hot!” he called a few moments later before coming back, already taking off the costume. Roman just chuckled. He hadn’t minded the look of Virgil in his costume. But he felt like he was a bit biased in that regard. “What was your scoop?” he wondered. “Oh! Right!” Virgil’s grin showed that it was something he found rather funny. “I ran into Jay at the bakery today…” Roman stiffened a little, a faint protective instinct rearing it’s head. “And he was totally making dopey eyes at Patton. I never saw him this off guard I swear. Just completely smitten. So, he’ll be joining us at the party this weekend,” Virgil smiled. Oh… Hm… “How much does Jay know about your power?” Roman asked carefully. Virgil didn’t know this, but there was an extra reason for them meeting up this coming Sunday. “Oh, it came up in conversation I guess. Thanks for worrying though but if I have an episode at the party then you can just tell him what’s up,” he assured him. Roman hummed thoughtfully. “Hey, I like Pat too. I wouldn’t be encouraging this if I thought Jay was genuinely bad. They just took a job that paid enough for them to make it to graduation,” he insisted.

“Yeah… Yeah you’re right. I’ll trust your judgement on it. Though if they do hurt Pat…” Virgil chuckled. “Then I will help you hide the body,” he winked before getting up and stretching. “Heading to bed. Later Princey,” he winked before heading to his room.

“Sleep well stormy knight!” Roman called after him. He’d have to keep an eye on them during the party. He trusted Virgil’s judgement, of course. But he also knew that Patton was too trusting for his own good. And if Patton liked them back, and their secret came out the same way his did, he didn’t think it would go over as well. The next day, Roman and Virgil found themselves walking home together due to a very rare alignment of changed schedules. “Professor Daniels is cool and all, I mean an AI teacher who can talk to the computers, that’s awesome. But he doesn’t usually take personal interest in individual students. But he sees me space out in the lab once and suddenly he acts like I’ll go comatose any second or something,” Virgil complained. “Well… Panic attacks can sometimes look like spacing out. Maybe he was worried that you were having one of those? He’s still a teacher, the wellbeing of his students has got to be some kind of priority. He might worry you are under too much stress,” Roman offered. Virgil hummed. “Yeah, you got a point. It just felt weird you know?” Roman nodded in understanding. “How are things going for that voice acting job?” he wondered, trying to change the topic to something more fun. “Good. We have a recording schedule. Mrs. Carlson is going to let me use the soundbooth at the library, so cool we have one of those. And Adam is going to let me use his notes for the classes I’m missing. I’ll be doing some of my recordings alongside some other actors over a video call, it’s a whole thing, but some of it we really need to get a feel for the other’s performances. Some lines I can just do whenever suits me best with the director coaching me. My lines should be done by the end of November,” Virgil grinned, instantly in a better mood. Success. “That’s awesome,” Roman said as he held the door for him. Virgil was bout to say something clever about it but he was interrupted.

“Mr. Grimm. Good timing. Package for you,” the dorm manager stated as he spotted them entering the building. “Oh cool! Thanks sir!” Virgil grinned as he picked up the big box. “Let me help with that,” Roman offered and together they carried the awkwardly sized box to their dorm. “What’s in there?” Roman wondered as they put it down on their living room floor. Virgil grinned at him with a twinkle in his mismatched eyes. He seemed to be wearing his contacts less nowadays. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased. Roman rolled his eyes. He would, but he wasn’t going to give Virgil that satisfaction. “Whatever. I’m going to watch your video before starting on dinner,” he huffed. Virgil chuckled and Roman made a show of dropping himself on the couch with a theatric huff, making his roommate laugh even more. He did want to watch the new video though so he pulled out his phone and opened it on YouTube. It was a murder mystery. They followed the detective investigating and closing in on the main suspect, and just when the detective went to arrest the suspect… “Wait… What do you mean he’s dead!?” Roman exclaimed. No. That guy had the murder voice!!! The detective interviewed all the relevant characters again and one, the one with the sweet southern drawl, got a subtle, sinister tone shift, still the sweet innocent voice, but with that familiar murderer cadence. “Holly frick! You liar! I trusted you! What the heck!” Roman called out, making Virgil laugh his ass off. Smug bastard! Roman crossed his arms with a stubborn pout. “Aw, come on Charming, don’t be mad at me,” Virgil pleaded playfully. Roman huffed. “Will you forgive me if I let you see what was in the box?” Roman perked up. “Maybe,” he allowed. Virgil rolled his eyes and nodded his head to the box as he knelt by it. “Then come here you big idiot,” he grinned, fondly Roman noted. Roman joined him beside the box and together they opened it to reveal…

“Your merchandise is here!” he exclaimed excitedly. He jumped up and hurried to his room to get his camera. “We gotta take some good pictures for your twitter to promote them. I could take your interview picture while we are at it,” he suggested. Virgil chuckled. “Alright, what do you suggest?” he wondered. “Well…” Roman looked through the items. We can take pictures of the pins and stickers on the table, and we can each model a hoodie and hold the mugs… Hold on… What is…?” Roman picked up a mug with a chibi Dove shouting: What the heck!? “It’s your first line. Not my fault,” Virgil chuckled. Roman couldn’t help a chuckle. It was kind of funny. “Well, alright. What else we got… Oh those are cute,” he stated, referring to the stickers with a cartoon raven modeling with a knife, sitting on it, holding it in its beak. “It’s one of my first designs for merch when a fan first brought it up,” Virgil shrugged. Roman pulled out the white hoodie with a feather design mimicking Dove’s shirt, the zipper held a big red heart reminding of the red scarf. The black and blue hoodie reminded of Raven’s design, including a raven skull zipper. That was so cool! “The hoodies will be made to order and are a tad pricier cuz of the custom zippers,” Virgil explained. “I’ll say. They look so cool!” Roman gushed. Then he held up his camera. “Let’s get started.” “Does Remus help you with pictures for the parlor?” Virgil guess as they finished up their little photoshoot. Roman nodded. “Whenever I can’t get a good shot, my brother has my back,” he confirmed as he took a look at their collection. “Cool of him,” Virgil mused as he leaned in to watch along with him. “Yeah… Approved?” Roman wondered as he showed off the shadowy picture he took of V in profile for the parlor article. “Yeah… I look like a badass,” Virgil grinned. Roman chuckled. “I’ll send you the merch stuff and put the article online,” he informed him as he sat down with his laptop and got to work. People were going to empty Virgil’s stock in a flash, he was pretty sure of that. The article and the merch announcement both got a lot of traction online. Virgil was a bit speechless at how his tweet with the pictures blew up. “Wow, people are posting hourly pics of my countdown clock on my store,” he muttered. That morning as he scrolled through his feed. “I’ll need to order more of everything within the hour,” he noted. Roman chuckled and gave him a look that said he wasn’t surprised in the least.

Virgil’s eyes went hazy and his phone buzzed. He glanced down. “Got a playdate with Jan at four,” he informed him. “I’ll pick you up as soon as I can,” Roman informed him. Playdate… That sure was a way to describe it. His day went well. He got an assignment to write an article, and the best one would get published under his name in the local newspaper. It could be about anything, and Roman had a good idea what he wanted to write about. “Sanders Sides youth Shelter. How can I help you?” a voice on the other end of the line wondered. “Hello there, I am Roman Reston. I heard about your organization through a friend and would like to write an indebt article about the shelter. I’d like to start by doing some volunteer work to get a feel about the workings of the organization and then an interview with your founder at the end of that. Is there any way we could sit together and discuss this?” What Roman didn’t mention was that he’d contacted an old classmate to be his undercover inside source, just to see if their experiences matched. He’d volunteer after Roman did his interview. He'd picked the shelter because he wanted to check up on the shadow wielding kid. “That sounds quite excellent. I can schedule you in for tomorrow afternoon, would that work?” Roman thought it over. “Yes that should work. Thank you very much,” he stated, right when Virgil’s tracker went off. He checked his watch. Right on schedule. When he got to the lair he was a bit taken aback. In front of him were two carnival style dunk tanks. He doubted they were filled with innocent water though considering they were bubbling and suspiciously green. Above them both a figure hung tied up in metal chains. Both figures sure looked a lot like Virgil. “Why hello Poetry Prince! I hope you enjoy my puzzle! You may take your darling Virgil of course. But you may only save one! Choose wisely! And hurry up! Because once my machine is fully charged all dogs in the city will break loose and run far, far away!”

Okay dr Doof. Roman looked at the pair. There was no visible difference. Janus had Virgil’s expression down to a perfection it seemed. But then again. “Can I hear the villain voice?” he asked the two. “What?” The one on the left asked perplexed. The one on the right chuckled deeply. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I do some voice acting for funsies.” That was the villain voice alright. Roman hit the button that released them both and did a super sprint to catch Virgil before he fell while ShockWave saved Janus with his own power. “Well that was easy,” he smirked at Virgil as he put him down. “Wow, he has a better villain voice than you boss,” Janus concluded impressed. ShockWave was fuming. Roman turned to ShockWave. “About the dogs,” he stated as he stalked towards his foe. “Feel free to stop my machine, or to chase me. But we both know what you’ll choose. It’ll take you both to turn it off properly,” his nemesis warned before taking off. How could someone be so stupid and so smart at the same time? Virgil did need to tell Roman wat to do and it did end up needing the two of them doing things on opposite sides of the control panel at the same time to power down the device. Roman gave himself super strength and smashed it to pieces for good measure. “Why didn’t you do that right away?” Virgil wondered. “And risk a failsafe going off?” Roman countered. “Good point. Sometimes I forget you’re not just a pretty face. Shall we? I feel like putting my feet up. It’s been a week,” he sighed. Roman chuckled and swept Virgil of his feet. “You’re getting spoilt,” he muttered accusingly. “And there’s nothing you are doing about it, so you can’t complain.” Damn that villain voice. “Meenie,” Roman huffed before summoning flight and getting the both of them home. When Roman told Virgil about his article, he was rather happy with it. They both agreed that if the shelter was legit, and if Remy endorsed it chances were that it was, then it would be very good publicity for them.

If Roman’s article won first prize so to speak. They made dinner together today as they talked about having a little Discord Halloween movie party with their friends on Tuesday. Nice and casual, no one had to leave their homes and they could all quit whenever they needed to depending on their jobs. And Nox wouldn’t have to hide from Patton. Everyone happy. The next day after his classes, Roman found himself in front of the Sander Sides Shelter, being welcomed in by a man in his thirties with the warmest most welcoming expression he’d ever seen on anyone. And he was friends with Patton. “Just wait here buddy. Thomas will be here soon,” the man assured him. “Thank you, mister…?” Roman wondered holding his notebook ready to note down the name of the worker who greeted him. “Just call me pops, everyone does,” the man winked before disappearing. Not very helpful but charming. He’d just have to ask mister Sanders about the employee later. “Mister Reston?” a voice called. Roman looked up. Pops was back.

“Did you forget something, mister um, pops?” he asked. The man chuckled. “I see. I’m sorry. I’m Thomas Sanders. But the confusion is not uncommon. Walk with me? I’ll show you around, you did want to start with volunteer work before the actual interview correct?” Roman was confused but nodded. “Good, follow along.” Mister Sanders motioned for him to follow and showed him around the facilities. There were sleeping quarters for temporary housing, a kitchen… Where mr sanders stood cooking… Roman looked between the one guiding him and the one cooking, both noticed it and chuckled. “My power is that I can make copies of myself. Each copy is just a touch different but they are all me in the important parts. Pops here leans a touch more to my caring side, though he has all other aspects of me as well, but that part is… more highlighted in him,” he explained.

Roman nodded and wrote that down. “It allows me to sort of be around to help the volunteers every hour of every day without tiring myself out,” Thomas explained. Roman nodded. “That is brilliant,” he stated. It really was. “Thank you. Let’s continue the tour,” he insisted. He showed him the entertainment room, a study room where Roman saw a young man of about 16 help a 10 maybe 11 year old with math it seemed. What caught his attention was the way the older boy’s shadow flitted about the room, searching for something it seemed. “Sam? Vince? Mind if we interrupt?” Mr. Sanders wondered. The pair looked up and took Roman in cautiously. “This is Roman Reston. He’s here to help out the coming week and write an article about the shelter,” Thomas offered. “I won’t mention any of the kids if they don’t want to be involved with the article,” Roman promised. He’d done his research. The shelter was supposedly a safe haven for kids who, for whatever reason, couldn’t go back home. Many of them due to being kicked out for dumb reasons. There was also space for those who needed somewhere to do their homework due to a full house, or needed a meal for whatever reasons. The shelter provided whatever the children were lacking at home. The older teen shrugged. “I’m not exactly hiding. As far as my folks are concerned I’m…” they looked down at the younger kid. “They won’t care where I am,” they finished. “I’m Sami they/she, this little one is Vince, he/him” they offered. Vince looked up with a bright smile. “Are you going to tell everyone how mister Thomas is helping us?” he wondered. Roman felt his heart just glow. “Yep, and with some luck, it might inspire other people to help mister Thomas.” Vince giggled and made flappy hands at that. “You tell everyone that mister Thomas lets me have happy hands?” he asked with pleading eyes. Roman looked at Thomas, a bit taken aback. “His parents are fine. But they work long hours and their available family members aren’t very good at the whole neurodivergent behaviors thing so…”

“When mommy and daddy can’t pick me up, I come here. Mommy and daddy say it’s okay cuz uncle George isn’t good at helping with homework like Mr teacher or like Sami. And Mr Thomas has friends who know lots and lots about people with happy hands like me. And mommy and daddy come over and play with me and talk with them and then they talk with me and I have less angry hands at home and at school,” Vince explained. Sami smiled down at Vince fondly. “Want your headphones kid?” she offered. Vince looked up at Sami. “Are you going to say secret grown up words?” he guessed. The group laughed. “Caught me again,” Sami stated as they gently put the presumably noise canceling headphones on Vince’s ears. Once Vince got busy on his homework Sami looked up. “My parents pretty much figured I was demon spawn the second my powers manifested. They tried to get me to not use my powers but that was a bust. When they discovered that I had tried on some make up I… borrowed, from a girl at my school, they reached their limit. So they tossed me out. That was a year ago. I wandered around a bit, did some stuff to survive… If I hadn’t been pointed to the shelter I think I would’ve turned into what they always saw me as,” they stated. Roman’s heart ached for them. He turned to Thomas. “I think I made the right call coming here,” he stated firmly. “Let’s talk schedule shall we?” When Roman got home he remembered to knock first, just to mess a bit with Virgil. “I’m decent!” Virgil called. Roman found him cooking something that smelled pretty darn good. “Well, my pager kept silent so I guess you had a decent day,” Roman grinned. “Sush,” Virgil chuckled. “Dinner will be done in a bit. Also I have therapy tomorrow don’t forget.” “I’ll be sure to patrol the city,” Roman chuckled. He did. The moment Virgil closed the door behind him the next day he put his laundry in the dryer and headed out. It was a nice day today. Crime wise there was little to report. So he did some smaller community service type of things. Cleaned up some garbage, found a missing cat, that sort of thing. When he came home, he was treated to a sight. “Why, may I ask, are you wearing my clothes?” Roman asked as he indicated the white shirt with yellow crown he used as his sleep shirt. “Yeah, I forgot to do my laundry, so I’ll be wearing this until mine are clean,” he stated.

“You… You put off doing laundry, until you didn’t have a single shirt you could bear to wear for the amount of time it would take to do a load?” Roman asked, skeptical of that reasoning. Virgil nodded without a hint of hesitation. “Pluss yours is all nice and warm, I folded the others,” he offered carelessly. Roman sighed. He was lucky he looked cute in his shirt. Virgil stilled for a moment. There was a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” Virgil announced while Roman went to his bedroom and saw all his clothes folded neatly on the bed. Well, now he really couldn’t be too mad about it. “Heya bro, I’m here to pick up the… New shirt?” Remy… And that tone basically sounded like boss music. “Oh, no. I ran out of shirts so I’m borrowing Roman’s,” Virgil explained. “Oh,” That sounded way better for Roman’s health. It seemed safe to come out of his room at least. “Well, he’s really a good friend. Letting you borrow his shirt like that,” the detective allowed. “He was wearing it when I came home but okay,” Roman offered as he joined them at the door. “Would you have said no if I asked?” Virgil wondered. “It’s the principle!” Roman insisted, making detective Grimm chuckle. “V, my thing?” he insisted. “Right, one adorable murder raven for the doctor. Scoring points bro,” Virgil grinned. “I’m getting good at this whole dating thing,” Remy agreed before leaving them with a wave. “Want to join me for some live stream madness?” Virgil offered. Roman nodded. “Sure, the chat is going to love that you are wearing my stuff,” Roman teased. Virgil jabbed him in the side and left to get everything ready. Roman meanwhile, took out his phone and opened the ‘Power theory’ group chat.

“Hi everyone, just checking that everyone, including the new enby is aware of the plan?” he texted. Patton had added Janus’ number to their group. “Ah, yes. Provide a relaxed environment with plenty distractions and chaotic elements to it to see if Virgil’s power is enhanced when his mind is occupied rather than when he focusses on his power,” Logan summarized. Roman nodded to himself and sent a thumbs up emoji. Ever since Virgil had warned him for ShockWave’s attack during their battle a week ago, while he was playing Uno with his back turned mind you, this plan had been in motion. Roman was pretty sure he’d found the key to Virgil’s power. All that was left was to test his theory. And tomorrow, was the day.

@kittylikesflowers @just-my-interpretation @naturallyunstablegamerr @meowthefluffyy @moonlightshow00 @frida0043 @angelic-calii @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse @roseianxiety @bard-in-blue

Raven poetry

Chapter 15: Switching

First chapter | Previous

#raven poetry au #prinxiety #superhero au #everyone has powers #hero roman #civilian Virgil #Damsel in distress V #but it's like high megara energy

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limitededitionsanderssidesblog · 3 years ago

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Orange is Offence

I've seen several different theories floating around both prior to and post the new aside video, Working THROUGH Intrusive Thoughts. So I decided to throw my two cents in.

So my main cause for concern about Orange's identity has always been that he is never explicitly referenced by ANY of the other sides. They never once speak of him, but he has made himself known before, such as in the episode SVS Redux, when he appears briefly amid one of the videogame cutaways as an orange colored 4110.

This is the first instance we've had of a dark side choosing to attempt communication individually without aid or disguise from the other sides.

For instance, our first known hint of Remus actually comes from the episode The Sanders Sides 12 Days of Christmas, where Roman says the line:

"May visions of sugarplums dance in your head and hopefully not visions of your naked aunt Patty... Yeah, I don't know where that came from."

And later in Remus's introduction song, this image appears behind him:

For Janus, his existence was first hinted when he silences Roman from speaking in Accepting Anxiety Part 2/2. Later when he finally did reveal himself, whenever he would appear it would always be as one of the four main sides.

Then why is Orange different? Why was he able to speak to Thomas (in an albeit round about way through a videogame screen) when he has yet to show himself fully to him?

Well first lets look at what the color orange represents.

A few positive meanings of orange, of many, include balance, freedom, and expression. The most common negative associations of the color include crassness, rudeness, and frivolity.

Next, the newest big revelation in TSS since Deceit's reveal.

Logan's outburst:

Now, many people have been theorizing that Orange is a part of Logan, and that they could be either a dichotomy/set of twins such as with Roman and Remus. But I don't think that's the case.

(I'd like to give credit to @candiecards for this next portion.)

In fact, I don't think Orange has any significant relation to Logan apart from the other sides. Rather, I think Orange is using Logan as an easy target/susceptible vessel. Just like how Janus would only appear by mimicking the other sides and disguising himself as him, I think Orange manipulates the other sides through a sort of mind control. Which is why he would be able to greet Thomas through the 43110 screen, by manipulating and altering Roman's videogame example to suit his needs.

First off, Logan has always been rather short-tempered, this is nothing new. In fact, Thomas called him (and Roman) out on it in the episode Fitting In (Hogwarts Houses!). Also, remember the time in Learning New Things About Ourselves, when Logan grew so annoyed with Roman's constant berating of his character, screamed, and threw a notecard at his eye? If Orange was always a part of him, and can be presumed to appear in fits of rage, why didn't he appear then?

Because he isn't inherently connected to Logan.

But Logan is becoming an easy target for Orange.

Over the past few episodes, and even throughout the series, Logan has been feeling left out and ignored. He was benched in SVS and was skipped and tossed aside in SVS Redux. Besides Roman, I'd say Logan is the most self-engrossed and prideful, believing that he is more important to Thomas than the other sides. He even stated in Learning New Things About Ourselves that he is the one who "maintains order."

However, when we are introduced to the state of Thomas's life in the newest episode, it is clear that Thomas is completely disorganized and has lost any sense of control over minimal things such as keeping clothes off his staircase.

It's then made clear by the way Logan speaks with Thomas that he has been trying for an undetermined amount of time to convince Thomas to reorganize himself, but that Thomas has ignored him each time.

Throughout the episode we see Logan eagerly push Thomas to work on his set schedule, but then conceding several times to Thomas's more pressing needs to deal with Remus and his intrusive thoughts over Nico's lack of a reply to a text he sent the previous day. Logan does appear patient with both Thomas and Remus, trying to logic his way through each set back, telling Thomas it's okay to take a break because of his intrusive thoughts, and trying to reason with Remus to hold himself back so he can work with Thomas more efficiently. Of course, it doesn't work, and he snaps at Remus to stop ignoring him.

Interestingly enough, at the same time Logan snaps, Thomas, who had previously appeared only anxious over Nico, then appears angry that he's being ghosted.

They become offended over the same thing. Being ignored.

Before I continue, allow me to provide a clear definition of the word offence.

Offence (noun): annoyance or resentment brought about by a perceived insult to or disregard for oneself or one's standards or principles.

As a reminder, the color orange can represent both freedom, expression, and crudeness.

When one believes that their freedom and expression of themselves and their beliefs have been insulted they take offence and often lash out in anger and become crude.

Offence can come from many places, it can come from different experiences, different expressions and emotions; but the reaction that is birthed from that offence is almost always outbursts of anger. Just think of a self-righteous Karen demanding to see a manager.

Throughout the story, Logan has been teased and ridiculed for his love and belief in strict and ridged methods and lifestyles. For him, planning and organizing and due dates are all fun things he enjoys, but to the other sides, its all just a bore and they make fun of him for it.

Logan comes off as (one of) the "angriest" side because he is constantly taking offence from others and defending himself. He is also more emotionally stifled than the other sides and does not know how to properly regulate his emotions, making him more prone to outbursts of anger. This would make it easy for Orange to take over/control him, by using his anger to blind him.

I mentioned in an old theory of mine, What is Deceit Really After?, that I believe Janus is plotting to create a power shift a from the "light" sides to the "dark" sides. And while in that theory I said I believe Janus would try to manipulate Virgil to gain power, although I still think that may be possible, I now also believe that Janus wants Orange to use Logan's offence and anger against him to control and manipulate him instead. After all, Janus was the one responsible for keeping the dark sides suppressed, only allowed to appear if Thomas wished to see them. But now they are appearing without Thomas first giving his consent to meet them.

He released Remus, promising that he would make sure that Thomas would no longer "deceive [himself] about the ugliness within [him]." Orange's sudden appearance could be the next step in Janus's plan to gain control, although I'm not sure what he could have offered Orange in exchange.

In the final moments of the episode, Janus is perched on a tree where he eats a green apple and says "Yes, everything is just fine."

As pointed out by @ethecookednoodle green apples represent matters of the mind.

The green apple at the end could very well hint at the upcoming events of the story regarding Logan and orange as the side representing Thomas's mind, and the side that performs mind-control over those who lose themselves to offence.

After all, whether he believes it or not, Logan has the most say in what Thomas does and thinks, comparable only to Patton, who Janus is in the process of seducing.

#thank you for reading #i made this on a whim #so im not sure it makes sense #ts spoilers #sanders sides #thomas sanders #orange side theory #ts theory #ts theories #orange side #ts orange side #logan sanders #ts logan #janus sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders

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boldbrash-fandertrash · 3 years ago

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Ignore me, unless I’m right in which case I fucking called it

So I was rewatching the episode for the fourth time and one I realized that Remus is much much smarter than we give him credit for and two I can generally predict how the rest of the story is gonna go.

We’re gonna have another aside video with Patton and Janus before the big season finale, and that aside is going to be one of the most important videos to the general progression of the plot.

I’m sure you’ve noticed the pattern so far, two sides who diametrically oppose each other being forced to work together on a problem they vastly disagree about, usually turning the small issue into something much messier than it ever would be and them learning something about themselves in the process.

Each pairing exists to point out to the viewer exactly what issues exist with each side that need some form of resolving, and the big unifying theme amongst them is “you’re not listening to me”. Roman and Virgil dragging Thomas across the cafeteria in favor of or agains him talking to Nico, Logan and Remus deliberately ignoring and working to undo the others work in an attempt to break Thomas out of the depressive funk he found himself in. Nobody is working together here. The only side to even remotely cooperate with the group was Virgil body checking Thomas into Nico, and it took him and Roman bullying each other and Thomas for an entire video to even get to that point.

Watching Logan and Remus interact, one, brought me immense joy and I will be chasing that high for weeks to come, and two, after an ounce of critical thinking was frankly painful to watch. Any critiques Logan offered to Remus were immediately discarded with absurdity and any critiques Remus offered to Logan were discounted as absurd.

During the obvious scene at the end with the Eyes™️, Logan claimed he wasn’t pretending Remus didn’t exist, but honestly, he kinda was.

The Dunce Cap Scene really accentuates this point. Logan pulls a holier than thou, why won’t you learn I’m always right, bullshit passive aggressive remark, Remus does his dramatic repenting student shtick, starts singing directly into Logan’s ear, and makes a kink joke. Literally the words Remus sings are “can’t fix this guy, all by yourself”. Remus is saying this inches from Logan’s personal face and even still the logical side ignores him outright, because of all the fluff around the message. Hell, in Remus’s introduction video, Logan likens him to a screaming baby on a plane, essentially saying “well eventually he’ll stop screaming so just bear with it for a while and you’ll be fine”. He’s ignoring Remus outright due to a preconceived notion and missing out on valuable information because of it.

The dunce cap scene indirectly calls back to learning new things about ourselves, where Logan is completely unreceptive to the puppet bit because of its perceived absurdity and absolutely refuses to acknowledge any potential the medium might have for learning until he physically cannot anymore.

Remus is capable of, and does often, make valid points and offers genuine critiques of shit happening in their lives. In Forbidden Fruit, almost every single line harkens back to some idea the other sides had been trying, and failing, to communicate to Thomas. “Good and bad is all made up nonsense”, “if you shared those musings with your friends i doubt they would forgive you”, “why deny yourself knowledge, say, knowledge of yourself” “people don’t like me much, Thomas, but that only just cause I’m honest”, “these sorts of things are only thought in the mind of a man who’s soul is truly rotten.”

Despite all of this, he is ignored outright because of his medium. Just like Logan is ignored due to his monotone cadence and large volume of content, just like Roman is due to his flair for the dramatic and artistic display of ideas, just like Patton is due to his playful and childlike nature, just like Janus is due to his perceived role as the Villain, just like Virgil /was/ due to his perceived role as the villain.

They all have become accustomed to being stepped on by the other sides because of who they are and how they communicate, and have in turn learned some less than ideal methods of being heard again. Logan yells and gets passive aggressive, Remus ups the fear factor for everyone around him, Roman shuts down anyone who tries to talk through bullying and raising his voice, Patton manipulates the others into feeling guilt and covers it up with a smile, Virgil whips out the tempest tongue and incites fear in Thomas, and Janus physically silences anyone in his way.

And here’s why I say the next asides episode is going to be the most important one developmentally. Patton and Janus are going to be forced to work together. Patton, who is in the midst of an identity crisis, and willing to listen to any new ideas provided they offer a valid solution to the shit he’s found himself in, and Janus, who knows a lot more than he’s willing to let on, who concerns himself exclusively with Thomas’s self preservation, and loves to talk when given the opportunity. Janus is gonna have a thing or two to say to Patton when they’re inevitably faced with their moral dilemma, and Patton is going to be in just the right mindset that he’s willing to listen. And Janus is going to end up being right, and the small issue they’re facing will be resolved, which will therefore strengthen Patton’s trust, and his openness to changing for the better.

Patton is goofy, and childish, and kinda ditzy sometimes, and because of that we as a fandom tend to overlook any of his moments that are anything but that, but we are not giving this man enough credit. When Patton sets his heart on something, he throws his whole self into it, and is willing to stand up for his beliefs in the face of extreme opposition, and would gladly do anything in his power to defend his family. Once Patton decides that he’s willing to grow, and if he believes that this growth will help put his family back together, nothing can stop him, and that will be absolutely crucial for the growth of all the other sides around him.

Whatever him and Janus discuss during their aside will absolutely give Patton the information he needs to help stitch together the rift between everyone.

I predict the next official Sanders Sides video is going to be the longest one yet, possibly over an hour long, because there’s a LOT of work that is going to need to be done, and Everyone is going to be in it. The big issue of “you’re not listening to me” won’t be resolved, but it will be acknowledged in a serious light by everyone. We won’t be getting any appearances from the Orange Side I don’t think, that would end up just complicating matters even more when each character is already incredibly shaky in their own identity.

Something less than ideal is gonna happen between Thomas and Nico, he’s gonna summon the initial three to deal with the matter but the other lads are gonna worm their way into the discussion, everyone’s gonna start screaming at each other, and Pattons gonna do something that stuns everyone else into silence (I’m guessing he’ll start crying, considering the start of season two was all about him repressing negative emotions and what better way to show character growth than to sob openly on camera).

Once everyone just fucking stops for ten seconds that’s when the apologies start. None of the sides are ever the first to apologize, we’ve seen that time and time again. Their desire to be in the right as well as their pride will always get in the way, however if someone starts the apology train everyone will eventually follow suit. We see that in Alone On Valentines Day, My Negative Thinking, Growing Up, Accepting Anxiety, Fitting In, Moving On, actually in pretty much every video where an apology actually takes place, once one person apologizes the other will immediately follow suit.

Patton is gonna be a goddamn mess, he’s gonna apologize to everyone in the room for anything he thinks he may have done to wrong them, and that’s gonna be what gets everyone to acknowledge all the shit they’ve put each other through, and the others are going to jump between trying to console him and trying to apologize to each other. They’re going to come to the unified decision that they need to work together more on future issues, the group is all going to offer up a solution and decide together on a remedy to whatever happened together between Thomas and Nico, and that will be that. Season three will be about them finding the balance between stepping on toes and being stepped over, while also working out how the orange side fits into everything.

Thus marking the end of my rant.

I started writing this at 2 and it’s now 4. I have to be up in three hours. I have an essay due at 3pm tomorrow that I haven’t started, but instead I typed up all this bullshit. I hope any of this made any sense, and I hope this is a suitable replacement for my emotions essay that’s completely untouched because chances are this is what I’m presenting to my therapist tomorrow. Wish me luck.

#sorry for no page break I’m on mobile #I’ll be fixing that in the morning after some well deserved rest #thomas sanders #sanders sides #ts sanders sides #ts spoilers #ts patton #ts Logan #ts roman #ts Virgil #ts Janus #ts Remus #ts theory

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tracybirds · 1 year ago

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Couldn't find the words I wanted to say about Two and Four, so I let Gordon take over and you all get some fic <3 Hope you're enjoying FishTank Week - it's gone so fast!! Good thing we don't need a special time to enjoy the bros :D

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Every rescue leaves its mark and today, Virgil can feel it in the puddle forming under his chair and the way his boots squelch whenever he shifts. He could use the shower onboard, put Two in autopilot under Gordon’s cheerful eye and stand under a warm stream of water and think of sleep to come, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he revels in the cold seeping beneath his skin that reminds him that he’s alive, at odds with the glow in his heart but making it shine all the brighter. The peaceful quiet that follows a successful rescue is when Virgil feels most himself. He’s proud of his family, satisfied with his own work, and the journey home feels warm and familiar as he slowly transitions back to island time.

Gordon hums softly next to him and Virgil glances over. He smiles to see Gordon looking far away, wondering what fantasy his brother’s mind is entertaining.

“I’m so glad I’m Four,” says Gordon.

Virgil’s heart swells. “You did good, Gordo.”

Gordon glances over and laughs. “Oh, sure, thanks Virgil. But I mean four-Four. I’m glad that’s my number. It makes sense.”

Virgil’s usually the best at following ‘Gordon Logic’, as their family liked to call it, able to trail behind as his brother’s mind jumped from topic to topic. He’s not sure what to make of this statement however.

“Like the number?”

“Yeah, the number,” says Gordon, grinning over at him. “Just like how you fit Two.”

“I guess you were born fourth.”

Gordon waves impatiently. “Not like that. We all suit our numbers. They feel right.”

Virgil can only stare.

He’s good with numbers, they all are, but they’ve never been much more than a tool for him. He tends to grab what he needs and neatly put them away again before running off with the result. Alan and John tend to treat numbers as mere incidentals in their life but even Scott, who dreams in topological surfaces and runs rings around group theory, doesn’t talk about numbers like Gordon.

Where Scott can make mathematics sing symphonies, Gordon turns counting into a nursery rhyme. He doesn’t care for the esoteric results of how the world of mathematics fits together but there’s something he finds irresistible about the simple familiarity of elementary numbers.

It doesn’t mean Virgil gets it though.

“What do you mean ‘they feel right’?” he asks. “Numbers are numbers.”

Gordon gasps, playing up the melodrama while his eyes dance. “Numbers are numbers but they all have feeling,” he insists. “Can you imagine Scott being anything other than One?”

Virgil can’t really argue with that. The thought of Scott, bold and sure and forging the path, being Two or Three or even Five didn’t make much sense.

“I mean Scotty can make whole worlds if he wanted,” says Gordon, his hands flying wildly. “Ones and Zeros, all or nothing and Scott’s definitely ‘all’. He’s his own man, but he doesn’t try to change any of us either, he only makes us more us, you know?”

“How does this relate to One again?” asks Virgil, feeling lost all over.

“Because the product of One and any number is just that number,” says Gordon as though it were obvious. “But One multiplied by itself is still One. He’s first and he’s himself and he makes all of us better and that’s One through and through.”

Gordon grins at him.

“And Alan being Three fits so much better than John anyway. Three’s got a bit of chaos in it, but Five’s all ordered and certain. You know what you’re getting into with Five. It’s reliable.”

Virgil huffs a laugh and leans back.

“I guess I can see that. What’s so special about Two then?”

“Two’s balanced,” say Gordon promptly. “It’s ordinary, but it has the kind of ordinary magic that makes your day special. Like seeing the sunrise.”

“If I see the sunrise, something’s gone wrong with my day,” retorts Virgil.

“Virgil,” whines Gordon, drawing out the vowels. “You know what I mean. Like the sun on the ocean then, or the smell of bread baking. Normal stuff but it makes you happy.”

For a moment, Virgil doesn’t speak, touched. Gordon hums again, content to wait for his brother to process his words.

“Thanks Gordon,” say Virgil at last, his voice fond and low.

Gordon grins.

“Any time,” he says. “Because that’s what so great about being Four, you know?”

And Virgil kind of already does, but he asks all the same.

“Because,” says Gordon, leaning across and grasping Virgil’s shoulder. “Two and Four go together. They always have. Two and Two is Four. Two times Two is Four. Four to the Two is Two to the Four. They swirl together, you can’t separate them. And if you put them side by side, they’re unstoppable. Do you know how powerful 24 is as a number? It splits seamlessly, it has so many factors it’s ridiculous. And don’t even start with 42, even John knows that number’s special.”

“The answer to the ultimate question,” says Virgil quietly.

Gordon grins.

“Trust me, Virgil, it’s you and me. Numbers don’t lie.”

FishTank Week - Day 7 (18 May 2023)

What secrets are ya hiding behind that canvas, Virg?

Today's theme is all about the Arts & Sciences

Explore how Gordon studies the ecosystem around him or Virgil's brand of science in engineering. Or maybe, Gordon's managed to get ahold of Virgil's good paints again. We have many different ideas of Gordon exploring music, and Virgil being the Renaissance Man of the team, and yet both scientists in their own right.

Have at it!

But you know what else might be fun to explore? Numbers. :D Two and Four, Four and Two. I am going to let Bri @onereyofstarlight start the discourse on this one, but just like our boys, their numbers have their own special magic: 2^4=4^2

Maths, and Arts, and Sciences, Oh my!

Not into making something new? That's ok too! You can still contribute by sharing. Reblogs of your favorite art and stories are welcome all week long. 💚💛 Have fun!

For the love of FishTank,

Gavii

(photo from Nutty's TBDailyDose)

One more day! 😭

#virgil tracy #gordon tracy #sometimes i fic #FishTank Week 2023

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