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chipper-smol · 3 years

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Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Pale Jester Chain 2

Prompt: PJ finds his way into Lemm’s shop and begins ruminating about all the different relics with surprising accuracy and knowledge (much to Lemm’s annoyance and confusion)

By @werewolforeos

Lemm was alone, as usual. He dusted off the king’s idols so the illustrious stone regained its shine. He froze as the door to his ‘shop’ creaked, and the bell jingled- please don’t be another caffeine-wanting bug, he thought, turning around to greet the customer.

The masked bug was taller than he was, though not by much- most of its height came from its horns, eight tall spikes resembling a crown. Yet despite this regal feature, it dressed in a fool’s clothes- Lemm could almost imagine the bells attached to the cape’s ends, which luckily were absent. And all its clothes shone with a deep crimson.

“How can I help you?” Lemm muttered, eyeing the stranger’s staff. “Oh, mind that shelf, would you?”

“Oh! A friendly face in these caverns! My, my! What an unexpected surprise!” The bug replied with a too-jolly attitude. Lemm decided he did not like this bug. “Why, I was merely exploring this city- it’s quite hectic outside, no?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Lemm replied. “My shop here is safe, at least. It’s quite calm up here. Have you seen those husks?”

“Yes, yes. Quite the sad fate they have been left with- blinded by those unsightly orange lumps, yet stuck in their daily rituals all the same.” The stranger brought up his hands to his face, in a mocking display of shock. “Oh, heavens! We have yet to introduce ourselves to each other!”

Lemm rolled his eyes. “Name’s Lemm. Don’t have much else to say on that matter, but what’s yours, stranger?”

“Ah- they call me Jester, back up there. You have a nice name, Lemm!” A shiver went up Lemm’s spine as Jester spoke his name- he ignored it, it’s probably just the breeze. “So, Lemm! What do you do up here? It’s quite the nice shop~!” said the Jester, picking up a wanderer’s journal.

“Ah- hands off, please. The knowledge stored on these antiques is priceless.” Lemm tapped Jester on the hands. “I buy these relics of this old kingdom, for the sake of history and preservation. I’ve got many journals to decipher- so if you don’t mind, unless you have any relics for me…?”

“Ah, no, I do not have anything you might be interested in. Though,” the Jester mused, “Perhaps I might be able to assist in deciphering the script? It seems familiar to me.”

Lemm scoffed. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Tell you what, if you can decipher a full journal, I might part with it once I’ve copied it down somewhere.” “That sounds like a challenge to me~! Challenge accepted, shopkeep.”

Lemm gave the Jester a journal he’d deciphered already, to test how well he knew the old script of Hallownest. Putting his finger to the script, the Jester seemed lost in thought, as though looking at an old memory. “This is a passage about those blue cocoons, is it not? They call it Lifeblood.” Lemm blinked.

“That is… correct. But, could you translate the whole passage? I’m curious as to what your skills are.”

“The swirling blue liquid relieves pain, but if too much is taken at once, the Lifeblood seems to take over. We must carefully ration the amount given to the hospitals. Signed… Lurien, the Watcher.”

...That was, way too fast. “Hmm. I’m not convinced. Another.” Lemm trades the journal in the Jester’s hands for another.

“The circus was in town today,” the Jester reads aloud, “and I got to see Marissa’s show! Her voice is so soothing- it reminds me of my dreams.” Lemm was silent. This is ridiculous.

“Hm? Did I make a mistake?”

“Oh, no. I was lost in thought about- these signs here,” Lemm lies. “I hadn’t yet translated this passage, and had not seen this combination written as one word yet.”

“Oh! You’re looking at ‘plague’ there, shopkeep.” Cogs whirred as Lemm processed this information- these journals talk about many things, how did this Jester decipher these so quickly? And does he know things Lemm does not?

“These icons next to each other- ‘sick’ and ‘many’. Many sick make a plague, no?”

“Yes, yes. That does make sense. And here…”

“That’s a shopping list,” the Jester waved it away. “Honeydew, boofly meat, it seems as though this one was quite rich. Though it’s not that important,” he claims, “as those letters from the Watcher you’ve got there seem much more interesting to me.”

You’ve got to be kidding me, everything he’s said has been correct. Even the ones I hadn’t yet gotten to. Just who is this bug, exactly?

The Jester strided over to Lemm’s undeciphered journals, focusing on a specific grouping. “I hereby request the addition of a chamber for Lexi, my butler, inside my Spire. He wishes to stay as he works, and…” Jester pauses as he grabs the next passage. “I believe it would be a good idea to have him with me as I prepare for slumber. Hm, a little fruity, aren’t we, Watcher?”

Lemm just stood there, dumbfounded. “Er. I. Okay.” This is a lot more information than I expected to get in five minutes. Ignoring him, the Jester continued to rummage through the relics, stumbling across a stray king’s idol.

“Hey! Those were ordered to date and time!”

“And now they are not. Is there any issue there? If it is, you can always order them again.”

Lemm definitely did not like this bug. “Excuse me? You waltz into my shop, damage my collection, and strut about like you own the place with your knowledge of the signs used in Hallownest’s prime. Who do you think you are?” “That is irrelevant. I do wonder… where did you find this statuette?”

“A wanderer comes by every so often with many relics, and cleans out my geo stash. I mean- that’s irrelevant. Why do you care?”

Holding the idol at an arm’s length, the Jester tilted his head, studying the way it was sculpted. “This one was found in the resting grounds. I can smell the lavender,” he muses. “I’m surprised they had one of these there- the moths didn’t take kindly to that King. I suppose that’s understandable, given what he did to them.”

“Moths?”

“Yes, yes. Quite a long time ago, they lived in the lands Hallownest was built upon. Did you never get an education?”

Lemm blinks. “Well, I had school, but-”

“Shopkeep, this is something all bugs used to know. Did they scrap it out of the history books? ...Of course he would, that King would do anything for validation. I’m sure the guilt is eating him up from the inside.”

“Jester. The king is dead. Has been for a while. Have you not seen the state of decay this kingdom is in?”

“Ah, no. That Wyrm is still alive somewhere- I’m sure of it.” The Jester moved back to the door, holding his staff in one hand, and journals in the other three. “I do wonder,” he muttered under his breath,”why are these so familiar? Ah, Lemm, was it? Would you mind if I took these outside?”

Before Lemm could express indignance, the door opened once more- standing in it a drenched wanderer, who often stopped by to supply Lemm with his many relics. The pale white mask they donned looked up at the crimson Jester, an unreadable expression behind it. The wanderer gripped the handle of their nail- sharpened, coiled, pure. They recognized the Jester, and they did not particularly like him, Lemm thought. At least Lemm wasn’t alone in disliking his clown schtick. That being said, the Jester still held some relics- if a fight broke out, they could get damaged. Lemm quietly pried open the hands of the Jester.

“Ohoho! We meet again, little one! Do tell me about your excursions down here, won’t you?” The Jester was met with silent scorn. The shop was rife with tension, though the Jester seemed oblivious to it.

“Er, pardon me, but mayhaps you two should take this… outside.”

The wanderer stared at the Jester for another moment, before breaking their gaze away, and briskly walking towards Lemm. They rummaged in their pockets, producing another pair of journals, a Hallownest seal, and an arcane egg. The Jester giggled, the wanderer quickly turning their head towards him, and then sprinting back into the endless rain of the City of Tears before Lemm could give the wanderer the geo they were due.

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By @couch-cat

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By @arandoskeleartist

(audio file working on being uploaded)

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By @uncurdled-bean-curd

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By @the-trans-anon

Lemm was going to have a stroke.

He’d been having a perfectly fine day going through his relics without any annoyances running around, when a strange bug he’d never seen before entered his shop. The bug didn’t seem to have any relics to share, saying he was just exploring, and had been about to leave when he noticed one of Lemm’s king idols.

“What’s that?” The bug asked, reaching for the idol.

Lemm quickly yanked it out of his reach, not thrilled with the idea of someone manhandling his relics. “It’s an idol of the Pale King. The King himself was rarely seen so the bugs of Hallownest worshiped these in his stead.”

“Lies!” Before he could blink, the bug had grabbed the idol and jumped back towards the door. He held the idol up above their head, admiring it.

“Clearly it’s a tiny statue of me! Can you not see the resemblance?” He asked, looking towards Lemm and pressing the idol against his mask, eyes alight with mirth.

Lemm was about to snap at the bug to give him back the idol for gods sake it’s a historical artifact not a toy- when he too started to notice the similarities between the idol and the strange bug. Both had similar horns rising up as a crown, though the bug’s horns were much more curved than the King’s, and their masks looked nearly identical save for the black lines running down the bug’s face. The main difference was their clothing, with most of the King’s imagery in white and the bug’s clothes in a bright, fiery red. The more he looked, the more clear their uncanny resemblance became.

“...Are you related to the Pale King?” Lemm asked, feeling a headache start to form.

The bug looked confused, then put down the idol. “ Ah no, I’m afraid I simply jest my friend. Though we have similar names, I have never heard of your “Pale King” before. Though I have to say,” He looked back at the idol “your king was quite the looker.”

“Wait, what do you mean you have similar names? What’s your name?!”

The bug looked about ready to answer, before he froze and looked up at the ceiling. “Ah, my apologies my friend. It appears the Master is in need of me.”

“The Master??!”

“May we meet again.” The strange bug bowed, and raced out of the shop.

“Wait! You can’t just say something like that and leave who does that!? Come back here!” Lemm ran after the bug, but he was nowhere to be found. “Shit.” He sighed, before deciding to look around for any sign of the bug. That bug had to have some kind of connection with the King, and like hell he was going to pass up a chance to get information about the reclusive Pale King. He needed to talk to that bug.

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By @lesiasmadness

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By @redcynder1234

Lemm angrily grumbled at the tiny hands that dragged him halfway across the kingdom. He had tried to fight the smaller vessel off back in the city of tears. When they had suddenly barged into his little relic shop, seeming urgent as he tried to drag the grumpy old bug out of his shop. Lemm had tried to wave them away, but the smaller bug had quite a lot of determination to show them something then and there, at least no husks dare tread in their path as they traveled. The infection may be gone for sure, but husks of former bugs sometimes still lingered around, it was nerve wracking for sure, but lemm was safe in his shop where he could get lost in his work for hours on end. However now with the little shadow dragging him out of the safety of his home, He was a little on edge.

Finally as it seemed the little ghost had dragged them to their location they pointed upwards. Looking up, lemm grumbled seeing an old rusty chain leading up an old well. “Absolutely not.” He growled out. Even as the small vessel flapped their monarch wings to start and climb the chain. Hearing his response however they stopped and looked down before pulling out something from their cloak. One hand on the chain they waved a king's idol in the air. “Yes you’ve been waving that thing at me through this entire journey! I still don’t understand why you’ve dragged me halfway across hallownest.” He barked angrily. If only the little vessel could speak. He assumed they couldn't speak a few visits back as they sold old trinkets at his shop but lemm never could be sure. It really felt like they were speaking sometimes.

The vessel seemed to wave and point it up desperately before disappearing up the well. “Ey! Little squirt! Come back here!” He barked up the shaft angrily. However when no shadow came to retrieve him he just grumbled angrily. “Stupid, familiar looking…” Lemm mumbled under his breath as he climbed up the chain. If his curiosity about what they wanted wasn't so persistent he would have turned straight back around and headed back to the city of tears. Plus, kings idols were a rare find and he wanted to get his hands on as many as he could.

As he scrambled over the ledge of the well, his old carapace not liking the climb in the slightest, he looked around. He remembered hearing about the town of dirtmouth. By its size alone lemm could tell the town must have been a lively and successful one before the infection's grip controlled and destroyed the place. It was sad, maybe to anyone other than lemm at the moment. Grumpy and tired he saw the cloaked vessel padding towards two pinky almost red tinted tents. “Little pest… just doing to leave me behind!” He barked angrily as he followed after the vessel. Nothing left to do this far into this journey but to follow the little gremlin. Plus, in case there were any more infected lingering about, he rather have another soul that could fight them off then be left to fend them off himself. He only knew how to work with small pliers and knives, not nails and needles.

The vessel seemed to be approaching a small crowd that had formed outside the tents. They had been there before the two entered town, but lemm could already tell from a distance they were all… scared? More weary if anything. As he got closer the little ghost had turned, waving the small king's idol wildly while pointing through the crowd. “Give me that.” He snapped while snatching the king's brand from their hands. “I swear if you really wanted to sell it to me you could have done it in the city of tears, instead of dragging me halfway across the kingdom!” He snapped angrily. Making sure it hadn’t been damaged he fetched a bag of geo from under his cloak and dropped it without even looking at the vessel. “You're lucky I'm not taking half of that for dragging me her- OW.” He barked when ghost suddenly yanked his beard. “I swear-“ he growled as he looked down, wavinging the vessel's hand away from his beard. However the vessel was glaring into his soul and pointing. Angrily he huffed and looked up, before his eyes widened. Huh? That was impossible!?!

Looking down at the idol in his hands he looked up. The normal silver cloak was gone, replaced with red jester clothes. His crown of thorns was bent in such a painful looking way it almost made lemm cringe at the thought; and yet as lemm held up the king's idol he could see the similarities. Far too close similarities to be a coincidence. However there was no way the king of hallownest was some low-life jester doing gags and tricks to please the normal class's eye. Especially to a dead kingdom. Yet thinking this could be the king's brother was almost laughable. The king was a wyrm if the small amount of text he deciphered was true. And wyrms were giant beasts that could kill anything in its path. Then who was this look-a-like in front of them? That must be why the vessel had dragged them here, they may be curious themselves but since lemm was such a history nut he would know more. Could have still told him that before dragging him here.

As the jester bowed and the small crowd nervously clapped. Seeming to be more doing it to please someone then actually liking the show. He paused as the jester disappeared back into the pink tents. He knew the vessel was still standing beside them, watching the relic keeper curiously. Lemm knew he shouldn't enter the tent and ask such a question, but so many questions could be solved about this kingdom if this stupid look-a-like statue was this strange jester. The pale king hidden right under everyone's noses. Yet it still felt wrong in some way but he couldn't figure out why.

Lemm didn't understand what caused him to head towards the menacing face-looking tents; but he headed inside their pink tinted curtains. He didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't the tent to be almost pitch black except for small lanterns hanging up around the place. He expected at least a little of the outside world's lights to cut through the fabric. Sure it wasn't bright already in dirtmouth, but the sheets had looked almost see through before, now they looked like solid walls keeping the relic keeper inside. A shiver ran down his back as he almost instantly regretted his decision. He was a relic seeker, not an explorer that went out and actually found the relics to study. However it was a bit too late to turn back now.

Walking down the hallway he saw another bug standing there. Playing a spooky tone upon the accordion in their hands. Lemm wished he could have just snuck around the bug but they noticed him before he got too close. “Mrmm… Sorry, but the master does not want visitors at the moment...” Lemm gulped softly. “Actually I am uh… here to see your jester I believe. I wanted to praise them for the wonderful show.” The lie came out of his mouth a bit smoother than he intended. Yet it seemed the other paused before nodding forward. “Mrmm… Continue then… but do not linger.” they simply stated. Lemm quickly nodded and passed by, making sure the king's idol was safely out of sight from the other bug's eyes. Once passed he calmed down a bit. The hallway led to a pretty large room, silken ropes hanging from just about everywhere above his head. Somewhere tied together, some were almost touching the ground. They were so long, but lemm had to admit it was a pretty sight. Something white suddenly appeared from above, it was the jester alright, carefully twisted around the silken fabric. Was he dancing? It kinda appeared like it. “H-hello?” lemm wasn't one for conversation but it felt a little awkward just watching the other. The other quickly looked down, a mask upon the other's face made the relic seeker shiver. However the others voice didn't sound nearly as threatening as he expected it to be. “Ah! Greetings down there, what brings you to the grimm kin’s tent.” He called down. Carefully sliding down the silken ropes to hang upside down in front of the relic seeker. Lemm nervously took a step back before stealing himself. “I wanted to ask you a question.” The jester tilted his head curiously. Carefully righting himself and wrapping his legs around the silken ropes to keep himself suspended in mid hair.

“Oh?” He hummed curiously “What question do you have for a little jester like me?” he spoke. Lemm gulped nervously before speaking. “Do… were… I….” how does he just ask someone if they were a king?! “Were you a king before?” He blurted out in her strange panic. The jester seemed to pause before bursting out laughing. Lemm huffed even if he knew how stupid that must of just sounded. “I’m serious!” He barked out, feeling a bit flustered. As the jester calmed he wiped a single tear that had formed in the mask's eye. “A funny joke for sure little bug, but there would be no way that I could be a king. I would probably put buzzsaws and little traps as far as the eye could see.” he snickered to himself as he joked, but lemm just huffed. “I am serious-” he barked again but the jester interrupted him “Then your answer is obviously no my small bug.” he chuckled “I could never be a king of something.” He chuckled. “Either way, I don't think you should be back here. If the master finds out you're here he may be quite mad.” The pale jester said with another chuckle. Lemm huffed angrily. “You look like the ruler that used to rule here--” “--That's enough.” the jester spoke with a huff. “I understand a joke but pushing it makes it unfunny.” the other huffed.

Lemm growled. “I’m not joking! I already said that.” he barked “You look like the king of his land, look-!” He held up the king idol that he had hidden in his cloak. The jester paused. If lemm continued to speak he didn't hear it, He focused on the idol in there hand. It made the jester feel strange, like there was something scratching at the back of their head but just couldn't figure out what was causing it. Like a memory long compressed and lost to time. Maybe it was better that they were suppressed but…. Flashes of memories went through his head. Bright white images with blurred faces. Hissing he took a step back before his head cleaned and something warm brushed his shoulder. Looking up he noticed grimm standing over him, his eyes seemed kind and light hearted but the jester could sense the small bit of anger in them.

The jester watched Grimm calmly lead the other outside the tents. Their words didn't fully register to him however as the two left. The strange symbol still was imprinted in his mind but the memories that had come along with them were gone. Strange, but it may be better for such things to stay hidden in his memory, but the jester was still curious. When grimm appeared beside him again through a burst of red smoke he seemed calm, but his red eyes shined in worry. “Ah yes I'm ok.” he chuckled nervously. “Just got a bit of a headache.” he said “What a strange bug.” he spoke, looking towards the entrance to the tent. Grimm only softly hummed “Indeed… Come, we have plenty still to do while we're here.” The jester paused before nodding, following grimm back into the tent.

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By @darkautodraws

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By @daikoski

The Pale Jester always had a knack for dancing.

—Or perhaps, certain kinds of it.

He’d discovered one time when indulging on a slower song from Brumm, that he had a knack for ballroom dancing of all things! But such a thing isn’t commonplace for his kind of performance, no, he much prefers storytelling accompanied with a fun little jig of sorts. Ballroom dancing—especially with the audience he tends to have—seems to be something a little too formal and delicate.

Which is why he finds himself taking on the endeavor of trusting seemingly delicate, flowing silks with the entirety of himself. Ahh, yes, that of aerial dancing! He notes them as seemingly delicate, as they’re more than capable of securing far more weight than originally thought, but also... he’s very sharp.

—Of course, he’s not so clumsy now to go and let his claws tear straight through the silk now, nor would he allow the plates of his body to catch on it either. Not like that one time, when he had first been trying to pitch the choreography to this performance...

Now that had been something. The clicking tear of threads being pulled apart and the swoop of his stomach as he plummeted before quickly catching himself with his tail, something of a boisterous, abrupt laugh escaping him.

“You’re not trying to escape from a web, are you? Try not to cut yourself down little Fool!” Divine had jeered affectionately, and he could have easily preened from the spark of laughter that ignited the rest of the Troupe before lowering himself.

(... he also most certainly tries to pad the sharp ridges of his body a little more ever since that incident, but that’s besides the point.)

Ah, but that’s beside the point. Such a joyous thing it is, to inspire such a reaction in others, even if it’s from a

slipup like that. Perhaps it’s even better when it is. (Aer all, the Jester in fact would like to think he uses his foolishness to endear

himself to others, not dolt around.)

The tent is empty as of now, though that’s no concern. The Grimmkin will flood the audience the moment he does so much as enter the stage—no, he’s searching for the more unfamiliar-yet-not guests to come in, if at all. Perhaps the little wanderer, the shadow? Or maybe even one of the town folks bold enough to come by? Oh, or the princess warrior! Though her kind are truly experts in silk, and he finds himself unsure of how she’ll take his performance. (It is due to her influence that he felt himself particularly inclined to this song and dance aer all.)

Ah, he should probably do some last checks on the rigging, make sure they’re steady and all that. That, and check on his costume, too.

“C’mon Jester, don’t tell me your talons are going all stiff on ya!” comes the snicker of a Grimmkin trying to goad him on, and he laughs, before launching into a sprightly comical bow, tail flicking. Actually, he feels as nimble as possible, thank you very much!

“Of course not, dear friend! I’m simply waiting to greet our beloved guests—” and speak and she will come, the familiar rubied-red cloak catches his eye, and he immediately pats and dismisses the ‘kin to greet the spider. “And here one comes now!”

“Hello, hello! Welcome, Little Hornet—” there’s a bit of distaste that shines through her expression at his thoughtless nickname, and he would reel it in had he not

already said it, instead opting to tuck the information away for next time, “—you’re just in time for this next performance! Sit down, sit down, make yourself comfortable!”

She’s ushered to her seat, which is something on the front rows amongst the many grimmkin. Idly he notes that neither of her siblings are attending, though he has no complaints.

This one’s less of a personal performance and more for all the Troupe to see, so he won’t be able to converse with her until aer. She comes here most oen to ask questions, aer all. A no-nonsense type of bug she is, and it’s only customary he’ll allow such aer a performance, and she seems to know the same. Nonetheless, he bites back a bark of amusement at the way she glowers at the chatty Grimmkin, a little bit crowded as it is.

Lights snap on, beaming bright and warm, and the show begins.

Distantly, he can hear the beginning notes of Brumm’s accordion, and ah, what a perfect guide he always is! The familiar haunting call sends a thrill through the Jester, and it’s with that he begins his performance.

He wonders briefly if aerial silk dancing has ever been seen within Hallownest. Perhaps so, perhaps not; he only learned due to the Troupe aer all, and Grimm hadn’t really shared where he had learned such an art either...

The whisper of silk that he coils around his hand is taut, strong and secure the more he loops it. It’s with quick, tight motions and a graceful swoop that he suspends himself right upside down, sharp mandibles pulling back into a pleased smile from behind his mask. That was a satisfying maneuver.

There’s a split second of concern regarding his costume—the fabric of his wings just do not seem to be cooperating this time around, but alas, it simply feels right to have them there!

The more he spends within the air, the more inclined, the more fond he becomes in fitting such an image. It feels even better when the silks are pulled and he’s practically in arms reach to the ceiling.

Though the Jester isn’t quite sure how to describe it; a certain kind of fun exhilaration, a familiar twinge in his chest at being lied to such a height—he’d first noticed it through the use of mere ropes and cranks, to trapezing and other such elevated storytelling (Ha! Perhaps if he finds more joyous stories to share, he could workshop that into a joke to tell Hornet...) to now dancing with aerial silks.

He lets himself be guided and pulled along, to sway and twirl with the call of the music and the warmth of the Heart with practiced ease and elegance. But of course; he’s more than prepared for this, and with each swoop and dip his smile widens more and more.

When the curtains close and all the Grimmkin have seen fit to disappear off to do whatever it is their hearts desire, the Jester remains lingering on the stage. To clean up mainly, but it is to keep a keen eye on the nimble princess as well. He watches as she simply hops up and makes her way down towards him, and he perks up in attention.

There’s some attempt at niceties, just polite, pleasant conversation on his part, to which she kind of shuts down aer a moment.

“Why the new performance?” Ahh, so some curiosity was piqued!

The Jester hums thoughtfully, letting the silks hold his weight up as he rocks too far back on his legs. It brushes whisper-so against him.

“Perhaps for no specific reason in particular, other than to further expand my capabilities as a jester!” He somewhat not-answers.

She doesn’t respond, instead opting to give him a very narrow eyed look, suspicion and more, and he feels compelled to continue.

“Well, perhaps not nothing. Hypothetically... if this old soul noticed a certain spiderling’s interest in acrobatics—and this is hypothetical, of course!” Hands up in the air as if in surrender yet jestful, he laughs, “and wished to, say, partake in something similar in an attempt to perhaps bond with her...?”

A pause and a beat. “Had it been to your liking, young one?”

He lets the words linger in the air, before dropping his hands down to tug at the silks once more. He wishes to be honest, so even though he feels... uncertain, telling her that, he doesn’t regret it.

Hornet’s expression does... something. It’s tiny—miniscule, even, and perhaps had it been anyone else but him, that faint little tell might have gone unseen. but he does see it, and he recognizes it quickly as some sort of conflicted emotion, a tension that he’s brought upon her.

It seems she very much teeters on something colder, fists gripping at the edge of her cloak before she almost quietly ekes out, “It had been fine.”

The Jester brightens up—why, from such a grumpy young princess like her, that could very well be the highest praise!

...Though it’s best he does not push further, nor goad her on either. Enjoyable their dances can be (with such strong, violent intent from her too!) he’s already finished his own performance, and she’s certainly due to rest sometime soon, nor would he want to upset her more in the first place.

And much to his surprise, she continues, “Such as... that part when you had dropped suddenly... I thought you were certain to fall and crack your mask in half.” Something of a surprised chuckle is pulled from him, and he hums. “Where you were supported by only one silk. It looked... dire.”

It’s vague enough that he can’t really pinpoint what part of the act she was talking about, but it brings forth words to his tongue, but just which ones?

Yes, just what was that phrase... right!

“That part! I was practically hanging by a thread, was I not?”

(So, he hadn’t been able to workshop that ‘elevated’ joke in time... but such is the way!)

By the Heart... he could consider this another job well-done, couldn’t he? No snapping, harsh remarks on the little spiderlings end, no such invasive shenanigans from any of the other grimmkin—the mischief they could get up to!

“It most certainly felt as though I had been too. These silks simply do not part when you want them to! I very nearly cocooned myself at one point!” He muses. A quick

recovery he always is, but it is still such a wrenching moment when there’s even the slightest miss of a cue.

“Tell me, I’ve never had the honour to learn or witness the art of silk in action. I can consider my act something akin to it, though it’s quite incomparable to that of a spider, and I find myself curious! Are there ever such... shenanigans like that?”

Perhaps it’s his curiosity as a now-performer, to find enjoyment in the silliness and mistakes along the way; a perfect performance starts from somewhere aer all, and he finds himself wishing to know more. Hornet probably knows what he’s doing—making good use of that ‘bonding attempt’ that he so mentioned earlier, and...

Is it in poor taste to joke around like this? She is one of the few weavers le... he wonders oandedly, when Hornet lets out something that sounds like a scoff-laugh.

“You would be surprised. Although we in particular favoured silk to be used in tapestries and story keeping rather than dance, it wouldn’t be... uncommon for a mishap to happen in a more verbose storytelling. Such as a silk shroud meant to mimic the silhouette of a corpse creeper ending up on the audience rather than the speaker themself...”

She does not specify if the one accidentally tossing a silken hunter on their audience is her, from her early days of practicing weaving, or anyone else... but she does look a little more relaxed, even if by a pinch. (And if he looked ever closer, maybe even a little embarrassed? It’s tiny, and far off, but maybe...)

(For some reason, he has a feeling he would have been too. Just a little bit.)

Hornet is about to speak more, unprompted (much to his delight), when she halts. One beat, two beats, and then looks at him.

“...you’ve never learned?” It's a small enough question that he nearly misses it. So like a whisper, edged with a sharp venomous hiss, and when the Jester is able to recollect himself from the sudden shock, he’s tuned back in only to see her cold regard and the turn of her back, needle gripped tighter, for she never goes anywhere without it.

“So now you’re curious.”

...Pardon?

He doesn’t give the reaction she wants, if the (hurt? angry?) scoff she gives at his bewilderment is not enough of a tell, then it’s the way she rolls her eyes before looking askance.

“...I will be taking my leave now.” She mutters something more about ‘he never learned about the weavers’ ... ‘not even of their culture?’ but the last bits of it are lost as she disappears from sight completely.

...

That... had not gone well? Or did it? It most certainly feels as though it did, but now their conversation has been cut short without him being able to give so much as a farewell. But he lets her leave. Not that he would stop her, especially knowing she’ll stop by sometime again, but he simply... watches.

She had been upset, in the beginning, and then the end. Upset at him. (Isn’t the first time.) (That’s one, aching pain in his chest today.)

...

The curtains have fallen, and as of now it’s time he recuperates for the next performance.

...That, or dust off that lantern of his to go and gather more flames for the Heart. The Troupe Master had allowed him to forgo such responsibilities in favour of honing his aerial dance aer all. Even with permission, he can feel the faint call of the flames, the flicker-spark as they burn deep within the depths of this poor, dilapidated kingdom.

(Or is it the call of the Heart pulling him away from his encounter with Hornet?)

(The enthralling change in attention is enough to jarr him just a little bit out of his thoughts, though he’s unsure if that’s what he wants or not. Distraction or focus?)

Deliberately, he redirects his thoughts to the spiderling, to their interactions.

...As a whole, it seems today has le him with very different emotions.

She had been testy at first, as always, but it seemed like he managed to converse pleasantly for her, even for just an exchange. And then she’s up and gone in not a moment later.

...There was an uncertain edge to her, when he had told her of his reasons for practicing such dance. The faintest scrunch of her fangs, as if trapped between pulling back into a snarling hiss or an uncertain smile. Or that if she did feel hostile, it was as though she was in polite company and couldn’t afford to be as such.

(And he knows very well that she does not quite see him as polite company, so why does she refrain as such other than habit?)

She was never one to hide her distaste towards him, but that had been something... different. What, he isn’t sure, but... odd, for such a small detail to stick out to him like that.

Ah, haha! But of course he recognized such a tell, not when he has the exact same quirk! Conflicted between strict decorum and honesty, where he’d much rather be honest and forthright than needlessly tense, as he’s so oen teased by his beloved—!

—His... beloved? No name follows that, and although it would be a complete term of endearment

as is, it doesn’t... feel complete. His beloved... one who knows him, knows his face despite the mask upon it

now...? His...

...Odd.

(...Here’s another chest pang.)

There’s a harsh little wheeze of a sour note, and the Jester perks up to see Brumm approaching, fiddling with the instrument before kicking into a slower, soer melody. He hadn’t realized he'd been standing there still, center of the stage, still with hands entangled in the silks, still very much not cleaning up or resting.

“Hello there, friend!” He greets, receiving only a nod in response and a curious look.

“Mrmm... Did something happen? Had it not gone well?” Straight to the point as always, too...

“I...” he falters, and for a second he feels terribly improper for such an obvious display of weakness, before continuing, “I do believe it couldn’t have gone any better!”

And it’s true! There isn’t much in his opinion that could be improved other than the few minute details, but of course, he is always striving to grow! Simply, everything had felt so right, he has no current complaints for himself!

Which is why... how odd it is that he feels so... down. This is by far one of his best performances yet, but that encounter with Hornet... it leaves him feeling tense. She had, while not the main reason he wished to learn such a dance, had been an influential part of it at least...

Because he cares for her like a... like a daughter. (Though that feels a touch too much, considering the fact she is the princess-protector of this fallen kingdom, and how terrible it is that she is to bear the responsibilities of the once so revered king...)

...So maybe a niece instead?

(Perhaps niece would work better—he can’t go and become too fond of the come and goers who eventually leave, just as how the Troupe will part from these ruins eventually too. But alongside that, there was an amusing term he had learned a few kingdoms back from a grub who had claimed him as their... ‘cool uncle’ in feeling!)

(Truthfully, he had never really learned the semantics of family lines like that—never needed to anyways. Taking up the mantle as a Jester of no-one but the

Troupe leaves him snapping up little bits of information from the many different places they’ve visited.)

(And here he is, subconsciously trying to claim a familial title for himself when he’s the last person someone would want as family.)

...

“I had believed perhaps this would be a more successful performance than my usual song and dance.” he admits, jovial tone a little lacking, far less overplayed than it usually is.

“Though I haven’t the faintest idea why... I thought perhaps it would make her happier that I do something she could potentially partake in. Aer all, I had never........”

Sharp words echo in his mind. ‘You've never?’

..........He had never what? The same phrase worms itself way into his mind again, this time from his own tongue. The things he has never done, but... what? Why is it that he feels inclined, feels like he needs, with all of his foolish heart, to make up for something he isn't aware of? Of strings le undone, of time he had owed but had never given...

There’s something tugging at him faintly, trying to unmoor itself from the deepest parts of his mind yet shrouded in the familiar, now comforting mist of blazing warmth and flame. He tries to prod at the thought a little further, before the feeling escapes him.

(Or perhaps the flame that so carefully protects his mind, so caringly had swept it up, crisping it with its bright beauty and letting it smolder into ashes so that these vague thoughts may no longer cling to him.)

He had never......

......Well, he’s never done many things! What he does now though is what’s more important than ever, and if he so desires to try and chip at all the ‘nevers’, what better way to do it than travelling with the dear Troupe?

Unconsciously, he tugs at the hanging silks. Something to fiddle with if anything.

(His head feels foggy again, chest tight. That’s three aching pains today. Or more? He can’t tell.)

Then there’s the low voice of his dear friend, and the Jester tunes into what Brumm is saying. “...Have you shown Master your new performance?” He doesn’t see, or rather, he can’t see the solemn looks of the musician, can only hear the little ‘hrmm...’ that vibrates from his voicebox.

The song he’s playing comes to an end, and he draws the last note out, long and mournful.

“Ah, but of course. Though I must say I haven’t performed it for him officially other than in practice—it would do me well to hone my skills further! You don't suppose he's free currently?” Brumm is offering a distraction, he’s aware, but nonetheless, he wouldn’t turn down a moment with the Troupe Master when he’s been nothing but kind during pain days like this.

“He should be. I shall inform him then.” He inclines his head. “...Take care.”

Brumm bids him a gentle farewell, soon disappearing into the depths of the tent and leaving the Jester to his thoughts.

So.

...Thrice. Thrice, that those aching pains have visited him within this same hour, and he frowns. Thrice, and he doesn’t have an inkling as to how and where they could have come and gone, nothing but a lingering phantom sensation in his chest.

(He had talked about it with Brumm one time, when they were both musing over the ambiguity of their characters; life before the Troupe, faded and gone, just as with everyone else. Life with the Troupe, all that they’ve known, but a satisfactory life it is.)

Where little weird memory aches aren’t impossible, or even uncommon, but are well taken care of. Soothed even, by the Heart.

Ah yes, the Heart. It’s taken the entire Troupe under its care, hasn’t it? They’re all here with the gied masks that brands them as one with the Heart, they’re here for a reason.

And the comfort that so fills him is something overwhelming, bright and unrelenting, such is the way of a flame within the dark. It washes over the last of the tugging memory pains, and he lets it. Lets it singe and smolder, lets it drape its curtain of red over his mind, so that the ache in his chest will disappear.

All of the lingering worries, all the doubts are held alo by a bare thread— —and the Heart snips through it with ease, and the Fool is at peace.

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

By @cloudcryptid

#hollowknight #hollow knight #palejesterau #telephoneknight #the pale king #lemm #ghost #hornet

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Note

So, what's your overall opinion on snk 139?

Something doesn’t sit well with me with how people on Twitter are complaining about 139. Personally (Hange backstory aside), it was satisfying and despite what people are saying that it ‘romanticizes genocide,’ I do not agree. I wanted to give my thoughts on the chapter overall so I decided to write it out.

In fact, I have another take on the overall message of the story and I hope people would give this a read.

Disclaimer: Sure, I am defending the story line and the ‘message’ that’s coming with it but I in no way, agree with the genocide. But there is a more nuanced take on this which I think will help people understand that there is an underlying message to all this and I wanted to just talk about it below.

Also, I found some cringe-worthy moments, I do not agree with Armin’s take on ‘Thank you for committing genocide for us’ one of the most horrible lines ever and I like to retcon that and never think about it again and I intend to read the Japanese raws though to check if it was just a translation error.

Maybe there is someone who already explored this but yeah, I’ll just write this in case no one has.

For now though, allow me to give a more detailed analysis of the message over all so people stop hating on the ending for ‘romanticizing genocide’ because I think this is a low key pretty shallow take on the whole thing and I want to provide some information, some analysis and some comparison to make people realize, this isn’t as easy as people claim it to be.

So let me start by mentioning something about the war with Marley to give people some perspective.

Yams pretty much set up a trolley problem on a wider scale and Eren was the one with the lever.

For people who don’t know what the trolley problem is, allow me to explain it below.

Here is a sample I found online: (See this link for details)

“A runaway trolley is heading down the tracks toward five workers who will all be killed if the trolley proceeds on its present course. Adam is standing next to a large switch that can divert the trolley onto a different track. The only way to save the lives of the five workers is to divert the trolley onto another track that only has one worker on it. If Adam diverts the trolley onto the other track, this one worker will die, but the other five workers will be saved.”

There are a lot of variations to this like:

“A runaway trolley is heading down the tracks toward five workers who will all be killed if the trolley proceeds on its present course. Adam is on a footbridge over the tracks, in between the approaching trolley and the five workers. Next to him on this footbridge is a stranger who happens to be very large. The only way to save the lives of the five workers is to push this stranger off the footbridge and onto the tracks below where his large body will stop the trolley. The stranger will die if Adam does this, but the five workers will be saved”

And there are so many other variations of this.

The runaway trolley is going after your mom vs. five escaped prisoners.

The runaway trolley is going after Pope Francis vs five serial killers.

These trolley problems show the moral tension between two schools of thought which are in two different ends of the moral spectrum: ‘Utilitarian ethics and ‘deontological ethics’ which are both either way, inherently flawed yet not totally bad. Utilitarian ethics focuses on the net happiness of doing an action as a determinant of whether something is good or not. So a utilitarian will find a way to kill less people and will probably go for the action which will actively kill people if it means saving others.

Deontological ethics emphasizes that the attention should be on the act in itself not the result is what makes something good. So ‘NOT pulling the lever’ even if it kills five people is the good thing to do.

The thing is, the trolley problem is not completely applicable in real life because you cannot really predict what’s gonna happen. Utilitarian ethics assumes that you will know what will happen in the end.

And here’s the thing, in the massive trolley problem created by Yams, Eren was the one with the lever. This was already proven in 138 and there were clear cut results. Eren knew what was going to happen. If he could, he would have just yeeted off to the woods with Mikasa and lived their remaining life together.

If he didn’t do anything, Paradis would have been completely destroyed and lost in five years or so. Marley was gonna overrun Paradis, the other nations were going to destroy it, take their resources and massive genocide was going to happen anyway.

Sure, Zeke and Hange offered their own suggestions to stop it. But as the founding titan, I’m sure Eren knew it probably wasn’t going to work. Because his daydream or the reality he saw where he lived in the woods with Mikasa implies that someone else took over the peace negotiations and Eren said himself, they had at least five years of peace before Marley and the other countries invade.

So with the results of both choices of the ‘trolley problem’ in Eren’s head at that time, he had a clear choice to make. Lemme quote the trolley problem again and apply it to his case.

“A runaway trolley (aka the war) is heading down the tracks towards Paradis who will all be killed if the trolley proceeds on its present course. Eren is standing next to a large switch that can divert the trolley onto a different track. The only way to save the lives of the people of his hometown is to divert the trolley onto another track that has the rest of the world (or at least the victims) on it. If Eren diverts the trolley onto the other track, the genoicde (the intended genocide), but Paradis will be saved.”

Okay fine, it looks like Eren did do something horrible because he pulled the lever and let more people die which is considered bad under the paradigm of both utilitarian and deontological ethics.

But lemme show you another variation of the trolley problem which can put Eren’s choice into perspective:

“A runaway trolley is heading down the tracks towards your beloved family who will all be killed if the trolley proceeds on its present course. You are standing next to a large switch that can divert the trolley onto a different track. The only way to save the lives of your loved ones is to divert the trolley onto another track that has complete strangers that have only hated you and are ready to fight back and kill everyone you love if you let them live. What will you do?”

This is difficult right? I don’t think it would be easy to make a choice to kill your family right?

So Eren went for the easier choice...

“A runaway trolley is heading down the tracks towards Eren’s loved ones who will all be killed if the trolley proceeds on its present course. Eren is standing next to a large switch that can divert the trolley onto a different track. The only way to save the lives of his loved ones is to divert the trolley onto another track that has complete strangers that have only hated him and are ready to fight back and kill everyone he loves if he lets them live.. So Eren diverts the trolley onto the other track, this trolley kills the current victims of the rumbling, but his hometown Paradis will be saved.”

So, what fueled Eren’s choice? Can love fuel Eren’s choice? Is love a valid reason to push or to leave the lever?

I personally believe love is the answer. But here my explanation.

Utilitarian and Deontological ethics are on two different sides of the ethical spectrum and at their extremes they are both inherently flawed paradigms to live by. Most people actually flit between the two when making decisions in morally gray situations which I believe is generally the most appropriate way to navigate ethics.

Let me introduce one new ethical paradigm to this discussion. “Aristotle ethics’ or Nicomachean ethics which claims there is a golden mean for everything. So goodness is finding that golden mean.

So I personally believe the most ethical and the best option is the finding that golden mean in between utilitarian ethics and deontological ethics, and what is the golden mean?

It’s difficult to find but I always believed the golden mean for something as complex as morality is the ‘most loving option’ but believe me, the most ‘loving option’ is very difficult thing to find.

I never believed that ‘true love’ was an emotion. I always believed love to be something born of deep discernment more than everything else. Although Eren had touched on love when he made the final decision to kill, he lacked the discernment which makes his decision still inherently flawed in the grand scheme of things.

So what was the whole point of the story?

I never believed AOT to be a manga that ‘romanticizes genocide’ regardless of what people are saying.

I think what Yams was trying to set up here, after giving Eren the very difficult decision, was ‘who set up the tracks in the first place?’

Who forced that young boy from Shinganshina to stand at the side of the tracks and have to make the decision to kill millions or to let his family die?

Was it the cycle of hatred? Was it the crapsack world that just forces everyone to be an asshole?

And the thing is, their world is a shithole. Just like ours.

Everyone is forced to do evil every once in their life (even through small ways) but it doesn’t mean that these people are completely at fault. There are structures in society that force us to do ‘evil’ to survive and the Catholic concept of social sin explains this. I won’t go into detail about this but I just want to say...

Morality is incredibly complex and I do not believe a clear cut right or wrong exist. But I believe if everyone discerned for themselves what right or wrong is, if everyone did their part to make this world a better place, maybe so many people wouldn’t be faced with their own version of the ‘trolley problem,’ maybe so many people wouldn’t be faced with the decision to make such an ethically gray and questionable decision like Eren.

So what’s the message that I believe Yams is trying to relay with his story?

Stop the cycle of hatred, start talking, start discourse. Stop fighting. And I think he has shown it multiple times with Eren and Reiner’s conversation and with Marco’s screams of ‘WE HAVEN’T EVEN TALKED THIS THROUGH YET.”

Anyway, I hope this meta or this rant whatever you think it is, just gives some new perspectives on the ending. Don’t get me wrong, Eren made a very ethically questionable decision but it had never been an easy decision to make to begin with.

And I hope this type of analysis and reflection could be useful to your own thoughts and your own ways on how you choose to navigate life.

#snk 139 #snk spoilers #snk ending #eren jaeger #meta

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daveeddiggsit · 3 years

Text

The Plan

WIDEOUT MASTERLIST

Series: WIDEOUT (chpt viii)

Note: Thank you @braidedchallah for proofreading. Reminder — before you kill me — there is one chapter left (and an epilogue). Keep that in mind. Enjoy. Feel free to yell at me afterwards. If you’re reading this, I’m sorry for what you’re about to experience.

Word Count: 12.2k

Pairing: Football Player!Thomas Jefferson x Tutor!Reader

Warnings: angst. possible breakup. perhaps some crying. implied sex (more than once). thom being a perfect boyfriend. thom looking fine af in denim (i’m trash).

Summary: Goodbyes are hard.

Tags: @coololdsoulpoetlove @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @lilangeldevil006 @pana-ce-a @merrahonthawall @katierpblogg @thespianbooks @a-hopeless-fan @uniquelystarchildthedragon @wcreech @sabbrriiinnaa @imperial-martian @harpersmariano @icanneverbesatisfied @underthewillowtreerycb @i-know-i-can @astralaffairs @braidedchallah (if i forgot anyone i apologize, just lemme know for next time)

As one of the smartest kids in your graduating class, you have a certain reputation to uphold. Maintaining a perfect 4.0 GPA isn’t easy, which means that you have to choose all the right answers and make all the right decisions.

As it turns out, you seem to be pretty good at that. Being right about a lot of things, academic or not, seems to come naturally to you. Especially when it comes to a certain curly-haired athlete who also happens to be your boyfriend of over a year.

You had been right when you told him that he would recover from his ankle injury on the night it happened. Well, you can’t be entirely sure of that yet since he’s still not clear to engage in full-action sports, but it’s incredibly clear that he’s well on his way to recovering fully.

Almost exactly seven weeks after the incident, he’d gotten his cast removed and replaced with a boot so that he could put weight on his ankle again. Since then, he’s been in physical therapy almost daily in order to make sure that he’s healing the right way. According to him, he’s progressing well every week and is slowly regaining his mobility, strength, and speed. Just two weeks ago he ditched the boot so that he could finally put on a pair of shoes; you remember the grin on his face when he gave you a little dance to show off the new kicks he’d gotten as celebration.

He’s not 100% healthy yet, and he certainly won’t be back on the field (or track) for another couple months until he’s clear to practice, but you’re proud that he’s been able to recover as much as he has in relatively so little time.

On the night of his injury, you’d also been right about another thing: the fact that Thomas would receive college offers.

And that’s what you’re celebrating today.

After weeks and weeks of advocating for himself and sending his player reel and personal letters to the head coaches of schools he wanted to attend, he finally got an offer from one of his top college choices: the University of Virginia.

While their football team isn’t the most notable in the nation, their program is one of the best in the state of Virginia at a Division I level, and that’s pretty much all Thomas wants. After he recovers fully, Thomas will make an excellent asset to the team since one of their starting wide receivers is entering the NFL Draft after this year.

At UVA, Thomas would get the play time he needs to shine and show his true colors and talent as a wide receiver all while having a coaching staff there to support him and his every need. Their academic program for liberal arts is also something Thomas has been looking at in a school since he plans on majoring in English.

With all of that said, the Jefferson household decides to host a special dinner for their son in celebration of the wonderful news.

And while under normal circumstances, you would feel happy and excited for your boyfriend and his amazing accomplishment, instead you have a voice that lingers in the back of your mind reminding you of the similar news you had received just a week prior.

Thomas isn’t the only one with a huge scholarship offer.

After applying to many different schools with somewhat notable engineering programs in-state (because let’s be real, out-of-state tuition is absurdly expensive), you’ve received only a few grants from NYU and Syracuse University, but it isn’t enough to cover all of tuition.

But when you’d received an email last week from the one out-of-state school you had applied to last minute, your heart had just about dropped from your chest.

UCLA is offering you a full-ride.

You should be happy that you have an incredible offer. You should be elated for Thomas with his scholarship offer, too. However, you can’t help but feel a looming sense of stress every time you think about telling him.

That’s why you haven’t told him yet; it’s been nine days.

“Y/N?”

Thomas’ voice snaps you out of your thoughts and suddenly you are brought back to reality. You’re dressed up and sitting at the dinner table with Thomas across from his parents. The menu of the night consists of a couple different French dishes that his mother had learned to make a few years back when they visited Paris for an entire summer. His mother’s rendition of the food is nothing short of amazing.

Your eyes meet the warm brown ones that belong to your boyfriend as you turn your head to glance at him next to you. “Hmm?”

”You didn’t hear anythin’ I said, did you?” Thomas chuckles, biting his lip as he watches you put on a guilty simper.

“No, sorry.” You breathe out a small laugh in order to cover up your underlying nervousness. “I zoned out for a minute there. What were you saying?”

“Well, I’m arguin’ a case here. Technically, a hot dog — a piece of meat held together by two pieces of bread - is a sandwich, right? In simple terms and by definition this should be true, so don’t overthink it. My dad keeps saying it’s not, but please, Y/N, you gotta side with me this time.”

You take a breath in and click your tongue. “I don’t know, Peter, I think I gotta go with Thom on this one.”

“Yes!” Thomas celebrates, throwing his arms up dramatically. “I told you!”

Mr. Jefferson’s mouth drops at your response. “How dare you take his side. Did all those other times teaming up at dinner and making fun of him mean nothing to you?”

If it hadn’t been evident prior to this moment where Thomas gets his overdramatics from, then it’s certainly clear now.

“Case closed.” Thomas smirks, crossing his arms, proud of himself.

“What are you talking about? The case is far from closed.” His father retorts, splaying his arms out, causing Thomas’ mom to speak out.

“Hey, calm down, you two. You’re gonna make a mess if you keep on bangin’ the table like that.” She chastises them. They both mutter their apologies before Thomas’ father continues on defending himself.

“Y/N, why’d you choose his side? You know I’m right. Don’t let that boy guilt trip you; he’s still gonna love you if you disagree with him.”

“Sorry, Peter.” You shrug, sneaking a glance at Thomas who’s watching you with a glint in his eyes. “As much as I don’t want to agree with your son on this one, I unfortunately do.”

Thomas pauses to narrow his eyes as you in puzzled manor. “‘Unfortunately?’ Your words wound me, sweetheart, really.” He says in a teasing tone before his smile turns smug as he directs his attention towards his father. “But you see, Dad? It’s 2 against 1. ‘M sorry to say, but your opinion is overruled.”

Mr. Jefferson waves his son off dismissively. “That’s horseshit; your mother hasn’t sided with anyone yet. We still have one more vote to count.”

“Language, Peter.” The woman in question warns, giving him a look that’s only half serious.

“Well, honey? You agree with me, don’t you?” Peter asks his wife with pleading eyes, causing her to roll hers.

“Sure, sweetie.”

You shake your head and smile, leaning back in your chair to watch the antics unfold.

“What? Ma, why you takin’ his side?” Thomas jumps in. “I’m supposed to be your favorite, you know.”

“Of course you’re my favorite; you’re my only child, Thomas.” His mother deadpans, causing Thomas to frown.

It’s Peter’s turn now to smirk at Thomas and you. “See? Now we’re tied. Opinion very much not overruled, thank you.”

“Wait, what was your side of the argument again?” Mrs. Jefferson asks her husband. “You said a hot dog is a sandwich, right?”

“No, that’s what I said.” Thomas interjects.

“Oh, well then I agree with Thomas.”

“Ha!” Your boyfriend exclaims, pointing at his dad. “I told you! Your opinion is not valid. Hot dogs are sandwiches. End of story.”

“They are not sandwiches! They are a different entity. How can you compare a ham and cheese to a weiner between two buns? Well I’ll tell you. You can’t!”

“For the last time, Dad. It’s a piece of meat in between two pieces of bread. That is classified as what? A sandwich!”

“With that logic, you’d say that a burger is a sandwich, too?”

“Yup.”

“There is somethin’ wrong with y’all.” Peter shakes his head, picking at the leftover food on his plate. “I thought I raised you better, T. Y/N, I expected you to take my side on this one.”

“Sorry, Mr. J.” You shrug. “Tommy’s right. A piece of meat in between two pieces of bread does indeed technically classify it as a sandwich.”

“Y’all got me thinkin’ that I’m the crazy one now.” Peter sighs defeatedly.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough of that nonsense.” Thomas’ mother chuckles, waving her hand in the air dismissively. “Thomas, honey, your father and I are very proud of you and are excited for your opportunity at UVA.”

“Thanks, Ma.” Thomas grins. “I’m excited, too.”

Under the table, Thomas’ hand finds yours and laces your fingers together. Its warmth is comforting and the small moment makes you forget about everything for just a moment. A small silence stretches on for a bit before Peter speaks up.

“So, Y/N, how are your college applications going? Have you gotten any scholarships yet? I feel like you’re too smart to not get anything.”

Your stomach drops at the question. You really hadn’t expected to be put on the spot like this, and while it is a simple question that you should be able to answer quickly… you don’t. You hesitate and Thomas notices.

You want to tell the truth, you really do, but you can’t. This is Thomas’ night to celebrate and the last thing you want to do is mess it up with news that you’d be going to school across the country. Tonight is supposed to be about him, not you.

So you lie.

“Oh, um, no, not yet.” You chuckle nervously. The hand holding Thomas’ fidgets slightly and he squeezes lightly to try and help calm your nerves. “I mean, I’ve gotten into NYU and Syracuse so far. Still waiting to hear from Columbia. I haven’t heard much as far as scholarships, though, unfortunately. I’ve received a few grants here and there, but nothing too big.”

“Columbia, wow. What’s their acceptance rate? 10%?” Mrs. Jefferson asks, seemingly interested.

“6%.” Thomas jumps in to answer before glancing at you with a small smile. “I don’t think Y/N will have any trouble getting in, though.”

You send him the biggest smile you can muster, though you feel like it sort of comes out as a grimace. “Thanks, T.” You say softly.

Beat.

“What time is it? I think it’s past my bedtime.” Peter yawns, checking his watch. “10 o’clock? Where did the time go? Y/N, are you going to be okay driving home this late?”

“It’s not that late, Mr. Jefferson. I should be fine.” You’ve definitely driven home from Thomas’ place past 10pm before (multiple times), but you’re not telling him that. “I do think I should probably leave soon, though.”

“You wanna go get your things upstairs, then I can walk you out?” Thomas asks you with a mischievous look in his eye. Knowing him, he probably just wants to get you alone for a bit before you leave. Even through your nervousness to tell him the truth, you can’t deny his charm.

“Yeah, that sounds good, Tommy.”

Then, both you and Thomas excuse yourselves from the table. You make sure to thank Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson for dinner and the invite. You’re always honored to be included in their family events even if it’s something as small as dinner on a Friday night.

When you make it up to Thomas’ room, he doesn’t waste another moment before he kisses you softly, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek after he gently shuts the door.

“Been waitin’ to do that all night.” He grins afterwards, softly brushing over the skin of your cheek with his thumb.

You smile as you bring your hands up to his shoulders, wordlessly leaning forward to sweetly press your lips to his again.

“Missed you.” He mumbles as he pulls away to lean his forehead against yours. “Feel like we haven’t been seeing a lot of each other lately.”

He’s right. With both of you not having any classes together this year, you both worried about college applications, Thomas not in football season anymore and in and out of PT almost constantly, you two haven’t been seeing each other as much as you’d like. Another reason why you haven’t been able to tell Thomas about UCLA (aside from the fact that you simply don’t have the guts to do it).

“I know.” You sigh, looking off to the side for a second. “I’m sorry.”

“‘S not your fault. We’ve both been busy.”

“Yeah, but still.” You say softly. “Feels bad. I miss you.”

He chuckles. “Well, I’m right here, baby. Don’t need to go far.”

You smile haphazardly and roll your eyes as you bring your hand up to the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss. Who knows how many more of these you’ll get before you both graduate and have to go your separate ways.

Before it can go too far, you pull away again.

“T?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m so proud of you.” You say genuinely because you really want him to know. You feel like you don’t tell him enough (even though that’s not the case). “Really, I am. You deserve that scholarship and so much more.”

“Thanks, love.” He murmurs while a soft smile adorns his face. “Hey, if none of these in-state schools give you anything, I think you’d have a good chance at getting something at UVA. They have an honors college that gives up a ton of grants and shit, you should look into it. I’m not sure if the applications are still open, but worth a try.”

You purse your lips before you give him your response. “Maybe, we’ll see.”

“I’m sure you’ll get something anyway, but just wanted to bring that up and let you know.”

“Appreciate the thought, Thom.”

Thomas grins, giving you one last peck on the lips before finally turning away to remove his overcoat. He double takes when he sees your face drop slightly. His eyebrows furrow as he notices your mood shift. “Hey, what’s wrong? Somethin’ botherin’ you? Not gonna lie, you’ve been a little off all night, sweetheart...”

You hesitate, not able to look him in the eye, the guilt eating you alive. The pressure of holding everything in is building up and while Thomas is normally your rock, the one you can go to for anything, you can’t this time, and you can feel it wearing you down.

You take in a shaky deep breath before you go to sit down on his bed, eyes cast towards the ground. “I’m okay, T, I’m just… stressed. With school.” You say, finally willing yourself to look up into his caring gaze. It hurts to lie to him, but you keep telling yourself that it’s his night.

“You sure?” He asks, taking a seat next to you to gently grab your hand in his. “Seriously, baby, I know when somethin’s up. What’s on that brilliant mind of yours, huh?” He lightly bumps his shoulder against yours in a teasing gesture, causing you to let out a half-hearted chuckle. He always knows how to get a laugh out of you, doesn’t he? “I know you’re worried about more than that stats test you have next week. Tell me what’s really botherin’ you.” He says softly, catching your gaze again.

Sighing once more, you tear your eyes away from his pleading ones. “I um…” You trail off after trying and failing to come up with another lie or excuse.

Thomas always draws your worries and frustrations out of you; he knows you so well to the point where he knows exactly what to say to convince you to tell him something. Honesty has never been a problem in your relationship, and the last thing you want is to push it to a point of no return. You already feel terrible for withholding the truth; you want to be free from this secret you’ve been holding.

And suddenly seven words echo in your head:

“Tell him. He’ll understand. He loves you.”

Your eyes flit back up to meet his concerned gaze. Here it goes.

“I did get a scholarship. All tuition and expenses paid. I got the email a week and a half ago and I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

His eyes widen at the confession, taken aback by how big the news is.

“Holy shit, Y/N, that’s… that’s amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you. Not surprised, but proud nonetheless.” He says genuinely, a smile evident on his face before it drops slightly. “Why didn’t you wanna tell me?” There’s a moment of silence before he speaks again. “Wait, why’d you lie at dinner when my dad asked?”

You give him a sad smile before you look away again, fidgeting with your fingers on the hand that Thomas isn’t holding. “I didn’t want to take over your night, T. And I didn’t tell you when I found out because… the school’s in Cali.” You say, releasing a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

He cocks his head to the side slightly, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “I thought you only applied to schools in-state.”

You shake your head, pursing your lips before you respond. “That’s what I had planned originally, but my advisor pushed me to apply for this scholarship program at UCLA and… well, I got in.”

Thomas goes silent for a few moments as he looks off to the side, breathing deeply. It’s hard to tell what he’s feeling. Then, he lets out a low whistle. “Full-ride to UCLA, huh?” He says softly before he turns to look at you.

“Thomas…” You start, your voice soft and full of worry, but he continues to talk.

“Are you going to accept it?” He asks and you nod slowly.

Ideally, you have no other real choice; by going to UCLA you’d graduate with zero debt. And with UCLA’s engineering program and opportunities that other schools can’t fulfill, it fills all the boxes you want in a university.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Really. I’m glad they recognize how amazing you are.” The tone in Thomas’ voice is fond and he’s absolutely sure of the words he’s saying. “It’s far away, I know, but we can make it work.”

The emotions in his eyes are conflicting, but they still hold unrelenting love and support in them. When you hesitate to respond, his eyes search yours, trying to find some sort of answer in them, but before he can decipher anything, you tear your gaze from his.

“Right?” He asks as his grip on your palm loosens until your hand falls back into your lap, the warmth from Thomas’ fingers completely vanished. “Baby, talk to me. Please.”

“Thom, I… I want to think that but I’m not sure.” You admit quietly, and having said that, you can see something in Thomas’ composure crumble.

He shakes his head. “Nah, don’t you say that. We can make this work, Y/N.” His voice wavers slightly as he stands up and runs a hand over his curls, smoothing them back and away from his face. “I haven’t accepted the offer at UVA. I can decline and apply to UCLA—”

“T, I’m not going to ask you to do that—” You start, but he cuts you off.

“You don’t have to ask me, love. I’m willing to do this all on my own. Like I said, we can make this work. I’ll improvise. My parents can afford it, then I can just join the football team as a walk-on. I’m confident I’ll make it. Since they didn’t give me an offer I’ll prove them wrong and be the best damn walk-on they ever had.”

“Thomas, don’t—”

“I can also have my dad send the head coach a letter. I didn’t wanna pull that for any other schools because I wanted to earn all my offers — and because of the whole nepotism thing — but I’ll make an exception for—”

“Thomas, please!” You raise your voice and when he finally stops, you immediately regret it. You’ve never raised your voice like that with him before and doing so right now feels terrible.

“Please, T, just stop. I don’t want you to do any of that for me. How long have you been waiting for UVA to give you a chance? How many letters have you personally written to Coach Michaels, begging him to consider you for one of their open receiver positions?”

Thomas is silent as you speak, knowing full well that you have a point. You continue.

“You’ve been set on UVA as your top school for a couple months now. Don’t forget how hyped you were when you finally got the offer this morning. And now you want to just throw that away? No. I’m sorry, Thom, but I am not going to be the one to take it away from you.”

“You’re not.” He says earnestly. “Taking it away from me, I mean. I want to do this for you. For us. UCLA has a good football program, too, all I have to do is pull some strings if you’ll let me.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay, well I’m not letting you do that. Thomas, it’s not as easy as you’re making it seem. Think about this, okay? Think about yourself and your football career and all the opportunities that you’ll have for yourself down in Virginia. Don’t let me get in the way of that! I don’t want each of us to be an obstacle in each other’s successes.”

Thomas gives you an incredulous look and stills himself. “Are you serious? Is that what you consider our relationship? An obstacle?”

You look away, sighing. “No, T, I… I didn’t mean it like that, you know that.”

“No, Y/N. I don’t know that.” He looks at you with a distressed gaze, all traces of comfort and playfulness gone and replaced with hurt… caused by you — something you never would have thought you’d see in his eyes.

“Look, I don’t wanna talk about this right now. Today’s supposed to be your day.”

“Let me get one thing straight, Y/N. Our relationship is not an obstacle… it never has been and it never will be.” Thomas says coldly and you cringe when he calls you by your full name in a tone that’s less than friendly.

“I just don’t want our love for each other to get in the way of…” You trail off, but decide against speaking mid-sentence. “You know what, nevermind.”

“Get in the way of what?”

“Thomas,” you start, making eye contact with him once again. “I don’t want to get in the way of your football career. It’s unfair; I can’t do that to you, T. You deserve to make the most of your career in college so that you can make it to the NFL. That’s your dream, right? To play in the NFL for the New York Giants like your father did. Am I right?”

His jaw clenches slightly as he nods, and you continue.

“The coach at UVA believes in you — even through your injury. Why are you going to throw that away? In order to be with your high school girlfriend? Do you see how childish that sounds?” A beat of silence passes before you continue in a softer tone.

“I just… I don’t want you to do that, Thomas, it’s too big of a risk. You have a solid spot at UVA to prove yourself on the field. If you drop that for a walk-on position at UCLA, it’ll be a mistake. Instead of proving yourself to NFL recruiters, you’ll be set on proving yourself to college coaches just to get a chance on the field. I want you to have the best chances at making it to the NFL.” Now it’s your turn to stand up. You pace away from him as you continue to speak.

“Let’s say you do follow me to UCLA and join the football program. What if… what if something happens while we’re in college and we’re not together anymore? What will happen? You’d have potentially messed up your career for me and I don’t want that to happen, T. I’m sorry but I won’t let that happen.”

Thomas holds a hand up to stop you from your ramblings. He speaks his next words slowly. “Wait, wait, hold on now. You think we’re going to break up in college?”

You roll your eyes in frustration, crossing your arms defensively. “That’s not what I said—”

“No, no that’s exactly what you said.” He responds coldly, narrowing his eyes at you. “I’m starting to question our intentions in this relationship, Y/N. Did you ever plan on us being long term?”

“See, this is why I didn’t wanna tell you. I didn’t want this to happen.” You say, annoyed that it’s gotten to this point of you two having an argument.

“You just gonna ignore my question?”

“Before applying to schools, T, I wasn’t even thinking about the future. I was taking things day by day. We were both pent up in our little perfect world, but right now we need to face reality.”

“Okay, so then why’d you keep this a secret from me? Were you plannin’ on keepin’ this to yourself until graduation? I don’t know if you knew this, sweetheart, but a relationship is a two-way street and involves a little somethin’ called communication.” His snarky tone fills the room and has you rolling your eyes again. “Girlfriends aren’t supposed to lie to their boyfriends and then get mad at him for reacting a certain way when she finally decides to tell him huge news.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” You say, breathing out another sigh and softening up at his last sentence. He’s right; you shouldn’t have kept it a secret. “I wanted to tell you, I just, I don’t know what’s gonna happen after we graduate, okay? And I’m scared.”

“You don’t think we can work through that together? As a team?” Thomas’ eyes are begging you to reason with him. “I’m scared, too, but we’ll figure something out. Right?”

The look in your eyes is distant as you cast them down to the ground. “Yeah.”

“Maybe we could do a long distance thing. I’ve seen other couples do it.”

You fiddle with a loose thread on your sweater. “I don’t know, T. We’ll see if we can come up with something.”

He rolls his eyes and huffs out a hot-tempered laugh. “Okay.” He says shortly.

“What?”

“So you don’t want me to drop everything and go to UCLA with you, which is fine. I understand that. But now you’re telling me that you don’t wanna do long distance?”

“I didn’t say that, I just— we need to be realistic, Thom.”

“What does that even mean?!” He yells, and it’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice at you. You hate it.

“We have to keep the future in mind!”

“I want you in my future! Don’t you want me in your future?”

“We both have different ideas of what we want. Different dreams, okay? You can’t have your dream of making it to the NFL and also have me when I plan on going to an engineering program across the country!”

You’re deflecting and he knows it.

“Answer the damn question, Y/N.” He says lowly, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.

“Of course I want you in my future, Thomas!” You say exasperatedly, looking at the ceiling. “What kind of question is that?”

“Forgive me if I’m strugglin’ to believe that when you’re actin’ like this.” He says, his voice taking a more neutral tone, but he sounds exhausted. “You’re going to school across the country and you were hesitant to tell me - fine. I fucking get it. But you can’t just say that we’ll probably break up in college and think that that is fucking okay. It’s not! And you can’t say ‘I don’t know’ about dating long distance when that’s literally the only other option we have.”

“That’s the thing, Thomas. I don’t know if that’s the only other option we have.”

His face looks puzzled as he looks at you for a few seconds before realization finally settles in. Thomas narrows his eyes at you once again, his gaze cold, making your heart drop in your chest. “You wanna break up, don’t you?”

“No.” You state, choosing your words carefully. “I don’t want to. But we have to think about—”

“Our future, yeah. I get it.” Thomas snaps, cutting you off. “You know what? You want to talk about the future? Fine. Maybe we should.” He says simply, crossing his arms. “If you think we’re just going to break up in college anyway, maybe we should just speed up the process and get it over with.”

You shake your head at him. “Thomas, don’t do this. That’s not what I want.”

“Isn’t it?”

“It’s not.”

“I find that extremely hard to believe.”

“I’m done arguing with you, Jefferson.” You breathe out tiredly, running a hand through your hair.

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He looks completely drained as he speaks again, his voice now calm. “What are we doing here, Y/N?”

A small silence fills the air before you answer quietly. “I don’t know, T.”

What are you both doing? Arguing about whether or not your relationship should continue after high school? Maybe you are being a little irrational about it, implying that you should break up before college and all. Thomas’ reaction to it all is understandable because he doesn’t want to lose you. However, he needs to be truthful to himself. Is this relationship going to work when the two of you are seeking entirely different career paths on opposite coasts?

What a fucking mess.

You hate that it’s gotten to this point. Your fear about telling Thomas and it going downhill has come true, and knowing that makes you even more emotional.

“Tommy… I…” You say sotto voce, on the edge of tears as you slowly reach for him, but he puts a hand up stopping you from moving any further. He turns his face so you can’t see his expression.

“Don’t, Y/N.” Thomas’ voice is firm, but it breaks slightly when he says your name. “Just don’t.” He whispers.

You watch him and he struggles to keep himself together. You hate that you’ve done this to him, that you’re making him feel this way… you hate that you’ve caused this.

“I’m gonna go…” You voice (barely above a whisper) after a long silent pause, not trusting your normal voice due to the shaky deep breaths that begin to rack your body. You’re on the verge of breaking down.

Thomas nods. “I think you should.”

And that breaks your heart.

You feel weird leaving like this, gross even. You don’t want to leave things off like they are. You don’t want to leave things unresolved and you don’t want to leave with Thomas still angry at you. Still, though, you grab all your things and head to the doorway of his room.

Pausing to look back at him, you open your mouth to say something, but hesitate. Deciding against it, you turn to open the door and leave without another word.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You call Maria as soon as you get to your car. She helps you keep your composure as you drive to her house, keeping you company via phone. You make sure to send your family a quick text of your whereabouts and that you plan to spend the night at Maria’s place.

As soon as you arrive in her bedroom and drop your bag to the ground, you break down and begin to sob, crashing into the welcoming arms of your best friend. You cry until you can’t anymore, and Maria is there for you the entire time hugging you and easing you through it.

She stays there, quiet and still, allowing you to let out all of your emotions. You don’t tell her the details about what happened until after you have no tears left to cry.

“Don’t be mad at T, please, none of this is his fault.” You sniffle, wiping at your nose with a tissue Maria gave you. “It’s all mine.”

“Y/N, don’t blame yourself for all this. You just want what’s best for the both of you in the long run. If he doesn’t understand that, then he’s just not seeing the whole picture.”

“I just hate arguing with him, Maria.” You say weakly, wiping at your face to dry your tears. “This is our first fight and I hate how I feel right now. I don’t want things to end on bad terms. How am I supposed to get over this feeling once we… if we break up before college?”

“You don’t have to end things on bad terms, Y/N.” Maria says softly. “You both need to be on the same page about this. If you both make a plan and sort things out, then maybe you can leave things on a positive note. Not as a goodbye, but as a see you later, you know? And if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. You’ll meet again one day and you can pick up where you left off. But if it’s not, then at least you guys can cherish what you had when you were just two kids in high school who didn’t know any better and made the most of their teenage years.”

You nod slowly. She does have a point, and this is all what you were thinking when you had even brought up the thought of breaking up after graduation.

“How do you always know the right thing to say?”

“It’s my best friend superpower. I can’t help it.” She shrugs, making you laugh, even if it was only a half-hearted one. “Seriously, though. You two need to have an honest conversation with one another.”

You sigh, wiping the rest of your drying tears away with the tissue. “I think we both could use some space right now, though. I’m going to wait until Monday.”

Maria nods. “Monday. But you have to talk to him. You can’t chicken out. I know you, Y/N.”

“Sometimes a little too well…”

“All for the best.” She grins.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

After a long and lonely weekend, Monday finally comes and you make sure to wake up earlier than usual in order to make it to school in time for when Thomas comes out of his physical therapy session with his track trainer.

You haven’t called, texted, or seen each other since Friday night and the guilt and heaviness from what happened still weighs on your chest despite the reassuring words from Maria.

Patiently and nervously, you wait outside the boys’ locker room like you have countless times before, only this time, things feel much different. The anticipation lingers in the air surrounding you and you feel the stress push at your shoulders until the door finally opens and Thomas walks out.

After over a year of dating, you still get butterflies at the sight of him even though he’s just wearing simple black jeans and a t-shirt.

As he shrugs on his jean jacket and backpack, he glances up through a few stray curls that fall down in front of his eyes. His eyes flicker to you as he walks in your direction before he rips them away quickly.

“T, hey how was…?” You try to speak to him, but he just continues to walk past you.

You watch him as he goes on like nothing, completely disregarding your presence.

“You’re still mad…” You trail off, falling into step with him and his pace doesn’t falter.

He doesn’t say a word.

“Listen, I know you probably don’t wanna see me right now, but please hear me out.”

Still nothing.

You know he’s still upset; he only gets quiet when he has a lot on his mind or he’s going through something. Taking in a deep breath, you speed up so that you can get in front of him.

“Thomas, hey, stop.” You say, putting a hand on his chest. You know that if he really wants to charge past you he can, but instead he stays there, halted by your touch. He looks down at you, his face nearing yours, and your eyes plead with his. “Please.” You whisper, your fingers curling into his black shirt to hold him there (or maybe it’s more of a way to ground yourself).

Thomas’ detached gaze lingers on your face and as your eyes search his, you note just how devoid of energy he looks.

“I just want to talk. I…” You watch him as he breaks your gaze to look at the ground. “I know I fucked up; I said some things I shouldn’t have. Just please let me make it up to you. I need you, T. I want to fix this while we still can.”

You sneak a glance around you to see that you’ve attracted some attention from your fellow classmates who are unapologetically staring. Do they know about you and Thomas’ fight? How could they possibly know? You two are hardly making a scene, but then again… people are vultures who will perk up at even the slightest bit of drama.

“Can we go somewhere private? Please? Just the two of us.”

Thomas licks his lips as he looks around, then back at you lazily. “Can this wait? We have class in six minutes, you know.”

“Let’s skip.” You say, causing him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. “This is more important than class today, okay? How about we go to that diner down the street?”

“It’s a little too early for a milkshake and fries, isn’t it?”

“They have eggs and waffles, too.” You say, your eyes pleading him to accept your offer. “Please? I know you love breakfast.”

He’s quiet for a few more minutes and you wait in anticipation for his answer. Just when you get your hopes down and think he’s going to reject you, he speaks up.

“Okay.” He responds finally. “But only because I really don’t want to watch boring presentations about the social cognitive theory in my Psych class…”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “That’s good enough for me, T.”

“Bribin’ me with breakfast. You know that shit’s my weakness…” He mutters under his breath as he shakes his head. You’re not sure if he’d meant for you to hear that, but either way it makes a hint of a grin form on your lips.

“Come on, I’ll drive.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

When you get to the diner, it’s fairly empty except for an elderly couple at a booth and a man at the counter drinking a cup of coffee. The smell of eggs and bacon wafts through the air and enters your nostrils as you breathe in.

A waitress greets you when you two slide into a booth, sitting across from each other. She hands you both menus and gets your drink orders before she’s off.

Silence fills the air between you as you both look over your menus. Thomas doesn’t say anything and it feels weird, suddenly reminding you of why you’re here in the first place. While from an outside perspective it may look like a normal outing between you two, you can feel the lingering tension in the air that’s leftover from Friday night. Unspoken feelings and unresolved problems still remain.

You sneak a glance at him over your menu only to find him already staring back at you. As soon as your eyes meet, he looks away.

“I feel really bad about Friday.” You finally break the silence, your voice small. Wanting nothing more than to let him know how you feel, you try to catch his gaze. When his brown eyes finally meet yours, you continue. “I hate the way we left things…”

“Me too.” He finally says softly. You two stare at each other for a few more seconds and Thomas opens his mouth to continue. “I…”

Then, the waitress comes back with a couple water cups and two black coffees, interrupting whatever it was that Thomas was about to say. You and Thomas direct your attention to her with fake smiles as she asks for your orders.

After she takes your menus and leaves, you let out a sigh as you look down at your fidgeting hands.

“Listen, T…” You begin, regret and guilt evident in your voice. You make sure to look up and meet his gaze one more time before you continue. “I'm sorry for lying to you and your family — I should have told you the day I found out, but I was too afraid of losing what we have. And I'm sorry for fucking up your day when we were supposed to be celebrating instead.”

You stop to take in a shaky deep breath, looking down at your hands once again. “I’m so sorry if I made it seem like I was doubting our relationship or… or if I made you feel like I didn’t… like you weren’t…” Struggling to find the right way to express how sorry you are, your tone gets more and more emotional as you stumble over your words.

Thomas saves you from your struggle, however, as his hand reaches across the table to cover yours, causing you to look up at him with surprise. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“What?” You voice breathlessly. “I… I thought you were still mad. It shouldn’t be that easy. Why are you…?”

He shrugs slowly. “Because you’re not entirely at fault… and as much as I want to stay angry, I can’t stand seein’ you in distress like this.”

You purse your lips and squeeze his hand in yours. “I’m still really sorry, T. I want you to know that. I said some things I regret and…”

“I know you are. Especially after seeing you try to fix things today by not takin’ no for an answer earlier. We both said some things we regret and it’s okay, Y/N. Really.” His voice is soft as he responds. “I’m sorry for yellin’ and not fully listenin’ to what you were sayin’. And for bein’ kind of a dick to you earlier when I ignored you. I was in denial. I just felt like you were givin’ up on us too quickly and I… I don’t wanna mess up what we have. I really don’t.”

Your eyes soften at his words. “I know. Me neither.”

You both are quiet for a few seconds as you both struggle to find a way to address the elephant in the room.

Luckily, you both get interrupted by the waitress again who comes back with your orders. You let go of each other’s hand when your plates are placed in front of you. Your mouth waters at the sight of your food, and you thank your waitress before she leaves again, telling you to let her know if you need anything else.

A comfortable silence falls in the space between you and Thomas, and though you feel that the tension from Friday night has now dissipated, the stress of the upcoming conversation still sits on your shoulders.

Surprisingly, Thomas is the one who initiates it.

“So…” He starts after chasing a mouthful of pancakes with a sip of water. “I’m guessin’ you won’t be comin’ back to town on holiday breaks?”

You cringe at the bluntness of the question. “What made you assume that?”

He shrugs, chewing his food before swallowing. “Just the way you were so helpless with your options. Thinking back to it, I figure that you probably wouldn’t have jumped to the possibility of breaking up unless you’d already thought things through somewhat.”

Very observant of him.

You nod before letting out a small sigh. “Yeah. My family’s planning on moving to Miami once I move out. Apparently they’re tired of the cold weather and wanted to wait to move until I graduated high school. They let me know when I told them the news.”

“Erik, too?”

“He’s staying in Philly until he graduates next Spring.”

“Well, that sucks.” He says, picking at the leftovers on his plate.

“Yeah.” You reply softly. “I just… I don’t know what to do anymore, Thomas. I thought the answer was clear, but now I’m not so sure.”

He sighs, putting his fork down before looking up at you. “I think I do.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you tilt your head in confusion.

Thom sighs, leaning back in his seat. “Well, for starters, you’re always right, let me just put that out there.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. Well, for this instance, at least.” He says simply before he continues. “As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think we’ve got options here.”

“Yes we do, you said it yourself, T.”

“We don’t, Y/N, you were right. I didn’t wanna believe it before but now, I don’t think I have a choice.” He says, holding your gaze firmly. “The two of us going to the same school is out of the picture. Especially with application deadlines already being passed - I checked and I don’t know what I was thinking on Friday. And with us not going to be able to see each other even on holiday breaks… I don’t think that leaves anythin’ else on the table.”

“Thomas, really, you don’t have to do this. Don’t let me pressure you into something you don’t wanna do. Like you said, a relationship’s a two way street. We can work something out. I don’t know what, but we’ll try something else.”

“You’re not pressuring me, Y/N. What would that ‘something else’ be? Long distance? The chances of us visiting each other are slim, especially since I’ll be stuck at UVA for the majority of summer break for training camp. Especially since you’ll be in California and especially since you have no incentive to come back to town after you graduate.”

“You’re my incentive, T.”

He licks his lips and lets out a small laugh. “Baby, don’t fight me on this; you wanted this. Why the shift?”

“I don’t wanna lose you.” You say, voice quiet and close to tears.

Thomas reaches out across the table for your hand again. You lace your fingers with his and hold tightly. “I know. I don’t want to lose you either, but you were right, sweetheart. Seeing each other once a year isn’t good enough, let’s be real. I think we’d be hurting more than we'd be happy.”

You let out a long, deep sigh, squeezing his hand. He’s absolutely right and you knew this when you started this conversation on Friday — doesn’t mean that you don’t want to avoid it, though.

“We… we should…” He hesitates to continue the sentence. “We— God, why is this so hard?”

“You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to, T.”

He takes a deep breath before the words finally come out. “We should break up. This summer.”

It sounds foreign coming out of his mouth and his change in viewpoint surprises you still, even after talking it through with him.

“I don’t wanna be your shackle, Y/N.” He says, squeezing your hand comfortingly. “I want you to do great things without worryin’ about me. Just like you were sayin’ on Friday. And I don’t wanna risk getting to a point where we grow too distant we lose all hope.”

Your eyes tear up a little bit and you reach up to wipe at your eyes with your free hand.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m lettin’ you off easy, missy.” Thomas looks at you pointedly, his voice wavering slightly. He lets out a small bittersweet laugh before he continues. “I’m gonna consider this more of a ‘see you later’ than a ‘goodbye forever’ kinda thing. At some point, I don’t know or care when, we’ll continue where we left off. Mark my words.”

You laugh, wiping away a stray tear. You’ve definitely heard those words before. “Have you been talking to Maria lately?”

He gives you a confused look. “No, not since we went on that double date with her and Ellie like two weeks ago, why?”

“She said a similar thing to me when I vented to her this weekend.”

“Really? Oh. I thought I was clever for that one.”

“You were.” You smile, rubbing small circles on the top of his hand.

A comfortable silence settles. The waitress comes back with the check and you give her your card against Thomas’ protests. It’s not long before she comes back and wishes that you both have a good rest of your day.

“This is gonna fucking suck.” Thomas suddenly says bluntly.

“Yeah, it is.” You sigh. “But you know what? We’re gonna make the most of the next three months. We’ll laugh together, we’ll cry together, we’ll enjoy the good times, and when the time comes… we won’t look back. Then, maybe one day, when I’m an engineer and you’re in the NFL… we’ll meet again.”

He sends you a watery smile, giving your hand a small squeeze. “I’m countin’ on it, sweetheart.”

You reciprocate his smile as a small silence stretches in between you two.

Thomas’ eyes fall onto his untouched (and probably now cold) coffee and with his free hand he reaches for the cream. You take that as a sign to let his hand go to let him tend to his glorified bean water, but as you try to withdraw your fingers from his, he just holds on tighter.

“Um, excuse me? What do you think you’re doin’?” He asks, glancing at you like you just committed a sin.

“Don’t you need to pour creamer?” You raise an eyebrow, wondering what the big deal is. “I don’t want you to spill it.”

“Girl, I can pour creamer with one hand, thank you very much.” And there’s the Thomas you know and love, not that he was ever absent in the first place, but it’s good to see him messing around again. “Let me hold your hand in peace because God knows how many more times I’ll get to do it. I gotta savor it.”

“Stoppp.” You whine, drawing the word out. “This is how you’re gonna act until graduation, isn’t it?”

“You complainin’, sweetheart?” He fake pouts as he carefully pours the cream in his coffee and stirs with a spoon. “I thought you loved me.”

You roll your eyes. “You know I love your dramatic ass.”

“Mhm. In more ways than one.” Thomas hums before he takes a sip of his coffee. He cringes when he realizes it’s cold and you laugh at his reaction.

“Ready to go yet?” You ask, amused.

He nods. “We’re not going back to class, though, are we? Because if that’s the case, then no.”

“What? Hell no. Who do you think I am?” You say as you both mutually let go of each other’s hand to get up from the booth.

“A goody-two-shoes, that’s what you are. Really, baby, I didn’t expect you to mention skipping class. That’s like… blasphemy for you.”

You shrug as he holds the front door open for you. “Guess you’re rubbing off on me.”

Thomas gives you a suggestive look and that causes you to smack his arm. “God, Thomas, not like that. Jesus.”

He lets out a full-bodied laugh as you approach your car and he grabs you by the waist as he leans back against the driver’s door. He presses a kiss to your forehead, hugging you close to him. “Just messin’.”

You roll your eyes before you pull back to look him up and down.

“When’d you get this jacket? Haven’t seen you in it before.” You muse, bringing your hands up to grab the denim on each side of his collar.

“A week ago? Maybe two? This is my first time wearing it, though.” He answers before he smirks. “Why? You like it?”

“Yeah, you look good in denim.”

“Do I, now?” He cocks his head slightly, amused as your face drifts closer.

“Mhm. The jacket really suits you.” You hum, releasing the material with one of your hands to slide it up to his jaw. You give him a soft kiss on his lips before you pull back. “Might look better on the floor, though. I don’t know. We’ll have to try and find out.”

Thomas’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise; he hadn’t expected you to turn the suggestive talk around on him. A smirk forms on his lips as he presses them to yours one more time.

“Your parents home?” He mumbles against you.

You pull away slightly to think about it for a second. “No, actually.”

“Well, then I guess we’re about to find out.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Over the next few months, you and Thomas keep the promise you gave to each other at the diner. You’ve stayed positive and lived in the moment and, to be honest, those three months have probably been the best three months of your life.

You and Thom are both making the most of your time, making sure to spend almost every weekend together.

You study together even though you don’t share any classes. Most of the time is spent doing homework in silence, but you still enjoy each other’s presence.

For spring break, you go on a trip to the beach with Thomas, Maria, Ellie, James, Aaron, and a few more mutual friends. The week is full of banter and lots of fun-filled memories that you’ll remember for many years to come. It’s definitely one of the many highlights of senior year.

Thomas, being his over-the-top self, asks you to prom by spelling ‘Prom?’ out with bouquets of roses on your front lawn. And as if that isn’t enough, you wake to the sound of a live orchestral quartet playing your favorite song. You groggily walk over to your window to see where the sound is coming from and you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend grinning up at you with his arms gesturing around him proudly.

Of course you say yes.

You would have said yes even if he had asked you casually — but what can you say… you’re a sucker for flowers and he knows it.

Prom night is an absolute blast. You feel like a stunner in your dress and Thomas looks unbelievably handsome in his fitted tux. You stay together the entire night, dancing, singing, laughing, and joking around with both your and his friends.

You almost lose track of the amount of date nights you have with Thomas. You have movie nights, some nights you go rollerskating, concerts, restaurants, hell, you even go paintballing together, which is something that neither of you had ever thought you’d get into.

But as June grows closer and closer, you can’t help but feel that heaviness settle back into your chest. You’d be lying if you said that you haven’t thought about backing out of this agreement the two of you have. In fact, you’ve spent countless nights lying wide awake (sometimes right next to Thomas), trying to figure out how things would go if you decide to stay together.

With your parents deciding to move down to Miami a week after you graduate, it pushes the day you move out to LA earlier than you had originally intended, which makes the idea of staying together seem next to impossible. Your mother says that it’ll be a good opportunity for you to get to know the LA area before classes start in August.

This causes you and Thomas to have a more in-depth conversation about the plan and it ends with you two deciding to break it off a week before your big move. Both of you are in agreement that it would be best for the both of you, so that you have some time to recover. You figure it will be easier that way.

So, when the time comes to start packing your things for your move to California (and your parents’ move to Florida), you get stressed out. You notice that Thomas’ and your enthusiasm/positivity starts to fade as the date of graduation creeps closer and closer.

Which brings you to the present.

On the day of graduation, reality finally hits you. Because not only are you recognizing the fact that you’re leaving the love of your life in eight days to go to school in Cali, you’re also leaving Maria who has been a constant in your life since elementary school.

Maria plans to stay in town and go to community college to knock out all her general education classes before she transfers to a four-year university. Luckily, her girlfriend Ellie has the same idea, so they’ll be taking the same path after high school.

At least they will be together.

Unlike you and Thom, who are currently posing for a photo together for his and your parents who stand behind their phones grinning and teary eyed. You both give your best smiles to the cameras, trying to preserve the memory as best as possible without breaking.

Surprisingly, you and Thomas have stayed strong despite the impending suspension of your relationship that lingers in the atmosphere between you. Although teary eyed because you are saying goodbye to a lot of friends and faculty you’ve gotten to know over the years, you and Thomas don’t cry on graduation day. You don’t cry during the ceremony, you don’t cry during the many pictures you take that day, and you don’t cry at the large family dinner the Jefferson household holds for both you and Thomas.

You’ve both toughed it out both privately and in public. But graduation day eventually comes to its inevitable end, and the day after begins, marking your last day with Thomas Jefferson as your boyfriend.

The two of you make your last day special and have a day-long picnic in a nearby park. You wake up early and spend the entire day together, laughing, kissing, talking, and having as much fun as you can with the inevitable future looming over your heads. You both make the best of your time together, and that’s really all you can ask for.

As the day goes by, your time together begins to run out. And both of your composures begin to fade as each second passes.

While your curfew to be back home is 10pm, you and Thomas decide to hold onto each other a bit longer, so he drives you home and you sneak him into your room when your parents are too busy packing in the basement. They know that this is your last day with Thomas, so when you’re distracting them while Thomas makes his way up the stairs, you tell them that you’re going to sleep early. They comfort you for a few minutes but leave you to your own grief, knowing to respect your wish of ‘sleeping the night off.’

Little do they know, you and Thomas decide to have one more special night together.

When you finally make your way up to your bedroom, Thomas is sitting on your bed, glancing at the half-empty boxes in the corner of your room that need to be filled. Half of your room is packed up, but you’ve put off packing lately to spend time with Thom before you physically can’t anymore.

You let out a sniffle and you don’t realize that you are on the verge of crying until you see Thomas begin to break, too.

“Come here.” He murmurs, standing up from your bed to pull you into a tight hug.

You both cry into each other’s shoulders, fully letting yourselves go emotionally as you let out your pent up sadness. You’re getting each other’s clothing wet with tears, but neither of you care as you cling onto each other, not wanting to let go.

You don’t know how long you stay there or how long it takes until both of you calm down enough so that your tears fall silently.

“I told you this was gonna fucking suck.” Thomas mumbles against you, causing you to let out a laugh and sob at the same time.

You don’t respond, but after a few seconds, you pull away from his shoulder to look at him. Silence stretches between you before you whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you.” He echoes without hesitation before he leans his forehead against yours. You both bask in each other’s presence for a few more beats until Thomas speaks again, his words shaking. “Football won’t be the same without you, Y/N. I won’t be the same without you.”

“You played football for years before I became a part of your life. You’ll be fine, T.” You say quietly, though you are absolutely sure of your words. You bring a hand up to cup his cheek and wipe some of his tears away. “You’re gonna move on and be great and show people what you’re capable of.��

Silence stretches between the two of you before you take a step away from him as you remember something. Thomas frowns at your sudden withdrawal, but you explain yourself as you both wipe at your faces to dry them as best as each of you can.

“That reminds me…” You say, digging into one of the open boxes in the corner of your room until you feel a familiar piece of fabric. You pull out Thomas’ purple hoodie — the one he gave to you the night you officially became a couple. Damn, it feels so long ago now, but it hasn’t even been two years. “Here. You should probably take this back.”

He lets out a small laugh and takes the purple fabric from you to examine it. He seems lost in thought, but after a few moments, he shakes his head and hands it back to you. “Nah. Keep it.”

When you don’t take it, his hand reaches out to one of yours and he wraps your fingers around the fabric. You try to protest, but he continues.

“Don’t want you forgettin’ about me, now, do we?” He chuckles dryly.

“I won’t forget you, Thomas.” Your voice sounds so sure of your words that Thomas has no choice but to believe you.

He swallows and looks down for a second before he glances back into your eyes. “I know.”

“You’re gonna forget about me, though.”

Thomas shakes his head and his eyebrows scrunch together and he looks like he’s about to break again before he reaches out to pull you close.

“Never.” He mumbles into your hair before he pulls back. “Hey, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I will never forget you, Y/N Y/L/N. I couldn’t even if I tried.”

He brings his hands up to cup both sides of your face. His thumbs brush some fresh tears away before he continues to talk. “These eyes? Unforgettable. This beautiful face? Ingrained in my brain forever, sweetheart, I promise you that.” One of his thumbs lightly brushes over your lips. “Don’t even get me started on these lips. I’ll miss them for sure.”

Thomas pauses for a second before his beautiful brown eyes gaze into yours, letting you know that he truly means his next words. “I’m never going to forget any part of you, Y/N.”

You stay there, gazing at one another with nothing but pure love and admiration. Without breaking eye contact, you gingerly put Thomas’ hoodie (which is apparently yours now) back in the box you removed it from. You reach up to pull Thomas’ lips down to yours passionately.

Thomas responds, instantly reciprocating the kiss with the same amount of emotion that you pour into it. He moves his hands from your cheeks to pull your body closer to him. Your hand digs into the material of his shirt and suddenly, you can’t get enough of each other. You both need more — to be closer — but neither of you rush anything. You take it slow and try to take in every little detail about each other.

As layer after layer of clothing comes off, you two savor the feeling of each other’s lips, bodies, and touch. Every soft moan, every sigh, every gasp, every kiss… each and every moment that you spend with each other is savored in one final heat-filled act of love.

Afterwards, you both lie in your bed under the blankets, Thomas’ arm around your naked body and your head on his bare chest. You cherish each other’s presence for one final time, basking in silence until Thomas finally breaks it, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You still sure about this, sweetheart?”

You are quiet for a few seconds before you answer, sotto voce. “Yeah, T.” You listen to his steady heartbeat as you bring your hand up to rest on his torso. “You?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah.”

A few seconds pass and you subconsciously trace little circles on his abdomen with your thumb. Thomas’ arm tightens around your waist as he pulls your closer.

“I’m sorry things have to end this way.” He mumbles against you, his deep voice reverberating throughout his chest.

“Don’t be.” You murmur, exhausted from the emotional toll this day has taken on you. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world — unless there’s a way where it doesn’t end with you and Thomas going your separate ways.

You shake your head at yourself for thinking so negatively. You promised each other something back at that diner.

“It’s not the end, T.” You speak out loud, shifting so that your head rests on the pillow and you’re face to face with Thomas. “You said it yourself before and now it’s my turn to say it: this is a ‘see you later,’ alright? So I better fucking see you later, or else.”

He laughs (oh, you’re gonna miss that laugh) and his hand slides up the curve of your hip to pull himself closer to you. “Back at ya, princess.”

You both sniffle, but you know that your time together, for the time being, at least, has come to an end — especially as both of you begin to drift off no matter how hard you try to stay awake.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” You whisper in Thomas’ warm embrace.

Thomas responds after he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to.”

So neither of you do.

And you both fall asleep, bodies entangled with one another, content to be in each other’s embrace one last time before you move away.

The next morning, Thomas wakes up before you do and he slowly untangles himself from you as he wills himself to stay strong. He dresses himself as quietly as he can before he presses one last kiss to your temple.

Then, he takes one last look at your sleeping form before he leaves, keeping his word to you and not giving either of you a chance to say your goodbyes.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

A week later, your heart beats frantically as you drop a box of things you plan on leaving behind against the wall outside of your room.

It’s minutes before you’re supposed to leave for the airport — you want to leave early in case something goes wrong and you get delayed. Sighing, you walk back into your empty room to check for any last things you may have missed packing into the many boxes that are already stashed into your parents’ car.

“Y/N?” You hear your brother call out from downstairs. “I think there’s someone waiting for you outside.”

Who could it be? You’ve already said your goodbyes to Maria earlier that day when she’d helped you finish packing.

Erik gives you a sad smile as you pass by and you give him a confused look.

“What? Who is it?” You ask, eyebrows raised. “You know we have to leave in a few, right?”

“You’ll see.” Erik says, causing you to sigh.

After determining that your final sweep (even though you’ve done it three times now) is done, you make your way past Erik and open the front door. When you make it onto your driveway, you’re shocked to see Thomas Jefferson standing there with a sheepish grin and his hands in his pockets, looking as handsome as ever.

“Thomas…” You trail off, surprised to see him after your last day together the week prior. “What are you doing here?”

Your boyfriend (well… ex now, technically) walks closer and takes his hands out of his pockets. You can see him fidgeting with his fingers as he speaks. “I uh…” He breathes out a nervous laugh before one of his hands reaches up to rub the back of his neck.

You watch him from a few feet away as he struggles to get his words out.

“Well, I… as your… not-boyfriend wanted to say goodbye.” He says softly, shifting his eyes to the ground briefly before looking back up to gaze into yours. “I changed my mind. Leaving without saying goodbye just gutted me and made me feel like we had unfinished business. I had to see you one more time, Y/N. I-I’m sorry.” Thomas’ voice is unstable as he apologizes and you feel tears well up in your eyes as he continues. “I know this breaks our agreement and everything, but I couldn’t just let you leave before—”

You cut him off by stalking forward to wrap him into a crushing hug — a hug the two of you desperately need at the moment. Thomas doesn’t waste a second before his arms encircle your waist to hold you just as tightly to him.

Even though you had spent the entire day with each other just a week prior, the need to see each other — to feel each other — one last time has consumed you both. You agree that waking up to an empty bed without saying a proper goodbye (even though it’s what you had initially wanted) had crushed you, and it had caused you to be an emotional wreck to the following two days.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, sniffling before letting out a bittersweet laugh. “I just made this so much more fucking difficult for us.”

“It’s okay.” You reciprocate his laugh as tears stream down your face. “It’s so worth it, T.”

A few minutes pass by as you hold each other close.

“I know I’ve said this before, but I’m really gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, T.” You say quietly. “So much.”

You’ve lost track of time and your mother is the one to finally bring you and Thomas back to reality.

“Y/N, we gotta go, honey…” Your mom speaks as softly as possible from her position at the front door, and you can see the guilt on her face as she watches her daughter’s heart break. “You’re gonna be late for your flight.”

You turn back to Thomas and give him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, Y/N. You gave me the best year and eight months I could ever ask for… so thank you.”

You look up at him for a second before you sob and crash into his chest. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.” He replies softly before he steels himself. “But you have a flight to catch. Which means you need to go.”

You give him one last kiss, it’s watery from both of your tears but neither of you care.

“Go be great.” He says when you pull back. “You deserve the world, Y/N.”

He holds your hand until the grip slips when you take a step towards the car.

“See you later, Thomas.”

He smiles through his tears before he replies. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

You get in the car and a few seconds later, your mother pulls out of the driveway (apparently Erik and your father are going to drive separately). As the car drives away, Thomas waves from your driveway until you can’t see him anymore. You know that’s the last you’ll see of him for a while.

And maybe, just maybe, you regret leaving him behind.

But a voice lingers in the back of your mind that gives you some sort of relief:

If it’s meant to be, then it’s meant to be.

#thomas jefferson x reader #daveed diggs x reader #jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson imagine #daveed diggs imagine #high school au #hamilton fanfic #thomas jefferson fanfic #wideout #feel free to yell at me #but on the bright side #GET READY TO MEET NFL!THOM #what a man

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betelguwuse · 3 years

Text

I’m starting to think maybe I don’t want to get married. Hypothetically I’d love to be in a godly marriage with a man who respects me and sees me as the person that God does (and not only me but women as a whole), but realistically do christian men like that even exist? Mainstream christianity, especially gender discourse, is so watered down and twisted into something that’s more political than biblical. I feel like this is gonna piss off both the christians and feminists, even though I’m both (though some might say I’m not a real feminist, whatever idc lol). Might also tag as Side B because I feel like this is also maybe a Side B mood? But here goes.

Color coded by vague topic, bolded so it’s easier to read.

Like I recently heard of a pastor being criticized for saying it’s a woman’s duty to look good for her husband, and the boomer conservatives were acting like criticisms of this pastor was the end of christianity. There’s no way “looking good” in a biblical sense was anything more than basic hygiene, nowhere near the beauty standards of today; and that is if the idea of looking good for your husband is even in the bible. These people siding with the pastor were saying that any woman who doesn’t shave or hide her “flaws” with makeup or basically completely embody the tradwife meme are bad wives. Like what the literal hell.

Honestly the entire tradwife aesthetic seems to be the goal for a lot of young christian couples, when it’s not inherently biblical. I used to be into it myself because heck yeah staying home, housekeeping, taking care of children, and wearing cute flowery dresses sounds like a dream. But my goals aren’t universal! Some women don’t want kids. Some women want to work. Good and God-honoring women of the bible didn’t all have kids and stay home. I mean the timeline of the bible spans so long, so yeah maybe there were times when most women did. But that doesn’t mean women who didn’t were bad wives or lesser women. Not to mention there’s such a blurred line currently between cute tradwife lifestyle and creeps who fetishize the idea of a traditional (and by traditional they mean submissive) wife. Gross.

Another thing too many christian men do is say women can’t be in any position of power in the church. There is the whole specific issue of whether or not women should be the highest up actual pastor of the church, and I don’t know enough about that whole debate to validate or debunk it, but I’m not talking about that specifically here. Aside from that one position, a lot of christians think women can only teach other women and girls but not guys, even like literal child boys. That’s so weird, like imagine thinking a little boy has more authority than, or even equal to, a grown woman? Couldn’t be me. And this whole idea comes from an out of context “I do not permit women to speak in the church” from a regular human guy. And the reason he said this was that the women around him were spreading heresy. I still think it’s flawed logic to exclude all women from speaking in that situation just because most of them were wrong, but again, this wasn’t a command from God. This was just a guy recording his church experience and doing his flawed human best to manage it. Various women throughout the actual bible outside of this one leader’s timeline held positions of power in various churches. And modern day american christian men think biblical womanhood is all about subservience? Bro what bible are you reading?

I just want to make it clear that these are all just generalizations, but having been in various actual biblical communities and conservative christian communities, I can kinda pick up on the general sexist behaviors of the latter. But unfortunately in today’s political climate more and more young christians are only being exposed to political opinions that are surface level americanized good christian morals, but not actually biblical.

Even on top of that, even if a man knows of these biblical misconceptions, we live in a society. Like we’re constantly exposed to women’s sexualization, and it’s pretty impossible to escape that. I don’t want to spend my life with someone who’s grown up in a world where women are seen as weak, objects, pleasure machines, etc. And yeah we can unlearn these biases (honestly I hate the word unlearn but I can’t think of a substitute rn), but it feels like a hassle to casually figure out whether a guy can make an effort to understand what women go through, and if I were to just bring it up I’d scare them away. And that’s not to say I’m some perfect person who’s never sexualized men, we are all sinners after all and we live in a fallen world etc etc. But a whole society where women are so objectified that it’s normal for little boys to be watching porn, that just doesn’t really happen with little girls. I can’t speak for all women, but when I started seeing men sexually it was in my late teens when I realized like ‘oh I can sexualize men too? wild. ok I’m an adult lemme check it out’. Still sinful, but not ingrained in me from porn ads as a kid the way most young boys have been since like the creation of the internet.

Even the men currently in my life who genuinely want what’s best for me are so incredibly misogynistic it’s baffling. My male family members see any woman who breaks an imaginary dress code or ideology is some kind of deviant. I just want to make it clear that this is MY family and I’M the only one who gets to complain about them. We all love each other here even if the males are horribly wrong.

So I shaved my head for halloween and my dad could barely look at me, not because he was exactly mad or anything but just because I looked ugly to him. He always says ‘close the windows in your apartment because men will spy on you changing’ but after my hair was gone he was all ‘actually don’t bother because nobody will look at you looking like that’ like wow I wasn’t aware men only sexualized women for their hair. Like you really think a gross creeper is gonna be turned off by a fully naked oblivious vulnerable woman just because she’s bald? That’s not how any of this works. And just today my sister was watching a goth youtuber egirl or something, I didn’t see her makeup but my dad said stuff like ‘ew why does she look like that, maybe it’d be cool as a costume but how is she going to get a job’. Like, I’m not one to go ‘women don’t wear makeup for men’ (because most women who only use makeup to hide their insecurities and follow beauty standards very much just do it so they don’t get backlash from others, if not directly to please men), but when it’s a fun crazy look that’s not meant to be pretty, I’m all for that shit and generally I hate when men lose respect for a woman just for wearing something they don’t like. Like fashion isn’t real and your appearance should be as costumey or weird as you want without people losing respect for you. Also like...do men know that makeup isn’t permanent?? Like if she wanted a job that required no makeup she could easily wipe her face off and get one?? Not only that, but people can work from home and/or be self employed. Maybe youtube itself was this girl’s job. Who the hell cares man. And the worst thing here is my brother outright said one time “the root cause of feminism is pride”. B r u h. And this was back when I considered myself an anti-feminist, even then I knew that feminism started for good reason and I was absolutely furious. I think I kept it to myself like a coward lol, but if anyone said that to me now I’d tear them apart. In a debate I mean, not like literal violence.

Tldr: I’m not trying to say men are inherently more evil because there’s evil in everyone, but the way it takes shape in men in most societies is so insidious and inescapable. I love my family and guy friends, but I don’t want to deal with one in a romantic/sexual relationship because I don’t know if even the most educated and goodest christian boi in this world can see me as a true equal. It sucks because I want sex and children, but when the mainstream idea of hetero sex is female submission, it just makes me shrivel up and contemplate becoming a nun. I’m not even catholic. But even nuns are sexualized and degraded in coomer’s disgusting brains. In conclusion I’m going feral and starting my own woman-only church in the woods let’s go ladies.

#christianity #biblical womanhood #christian woman #christian feminism #feminism #side b #side b christian

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bae-science · 3 years

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it’s t-t-t-t-time for another newt bae-science fic rec extravabonanza! same rules, same boys, same bullshit! let’s get into it:

a beginning; a second chance by @dykesword

other newt and i have a long and intricate ritualistic battle to become the alpha newt, but i gotta give credit where it’s due. if you like to annotate your books for fun, this fic will give you a looooong comment you’ll want to write, and for good reason! there’s a lot of really well done metaphor and character detail in here, while still keeping a very soft, melancholy but with a hopeful edge tone. and also, like, the care and detail in which newt’s mental state in the aftermath of the precursors’ abuse is depicted is so so good, and delightful to read

husbandly duties by @kingeiszler

i am soooo biased with this one bc technically it was made for me but GODDAMN it’s good. this shit has everything: gottlieb trio sibling dynamics, vanessa in giant femme earrings, hermann yearning, newt and karla infodumping together, newt’s terrible and accurate gaydar, gay crime, the newmann dynamic and why it works boiled down to its bare essentials, pride and prejudice glasses touch, and neon green acrylics. required reading for the vanessaverse

Say That Again by @robertfrobisherslover

WOOF. if you like mutual pining and lack of communication from men with rocks for their emotional processing centers, and guncle (gay uncle) newt and hermann and KILLER artsy sex scenes, and themes of words unsaid in a story about LANGUAGE..... oogoogogoogouhufug. the writing style is clear and well paced, i LOVE little mako’s scene she’s such a cutie, and there’s like. a line. that’s a play on the whole “it’s always been you” trope. that lives in my mind rent free forever.

speak right to my heart without saying a word by @thekaidonovskys

i’m just gonna paste the comment i left on it here, because that sums up what is so absolutely incredible about this fic the best:

so sometimes you stumble on a piece of fiction that you add to your little collection of stuff you would show a person if you wanted them to understand a part of you that you can't quite explain eloquently, or it would take too long, etc etc, and i've never really found something like that for my autism until now, which, like, poggers. and i'll be as straight up as i can while still being the biggest lesbian in the great state of ohio (not a hard feat but alan invented computers so i love continuing on the autistic tradition of being a living miracle), the chameleon effect hit me like a mack truck. catholic school in the deep south is the most potent and effective form of ABA therapy imaginable :/. so sometimes i wonder what i would be like if i didn't have such a strong ability to pass, and here's where we finally get to the part of this comment where i just vomit compliments at you: you nailed it. you got it. i don't know if you're on the spectrum, but either way, well fucking done. trauma therapy research talks a lot about healing fantasies, which are fantasies, usually in the form of daydreams, that abused/neglected/traumatized/etc people create that directly address a struggle they have and take the form of a scenario in which that struggle is helped in some way. it could be an abusive parent repenting and showering them with the love they never had, or someone finding them during a panic attack and somehow knowing how best to comfort them without having to ask, or being intimate with someone and having a scar or physical deformity they've been shamed for be given attention and care. and i think you have created the ultimate perfect healing fantasy for autistic people, or at least those with """"high functioning"""" autism. it has a character who is visibly and undeniably on the spectrum having the pain and trauma going through life like that causes being acknowledged and validated, they are purposefully paid attention to because person b genuinely likes them and wants to understand and respect who they are and how they function in the world, and thus get The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known as well as the eventual rewards of being loved, person b makes a genuine effort to help teach them social skills in a way they can understand and learn through and is there for them when these skills are being practiced, their space and boundaries are respected but they aren't infantilized or thought of as an emotionless robot, and they receive love and comfort on their own terms not despite of but because of who they are, even specifically being asked not to change the way they are because that way is lovable. they are openly desired. writing is my fucking JOB and it's still difficult to put into words how much you got 100000% right about the dream with this fic. i have been in the EXACT and i mean EXACT same situation as hermann when he asked newt if it was his personality itself that made people not like him, because i deadass made a spreadsheet of all my personality attributes i thought could be preventing me from making friends in college, and then asked my fellow nd friend to see if there was anything i was missing. so i guess what i'm trying to say is that this amazing, and i'm bookmarking it and putting it on my next fic rec post, and maybe one day way way in the future if i ever get a partner i want to explain the whole autism thing to, i'm gonna have them read this.

The Facts With Newton Geiszler, PhD by what_alchemy (NSFW)

storytime: i read this fic a few years ago, completely forgot the title and author, and ended up thinking about the part where hermann admits to having fucked a trailer hitch when he was a teenager, at least once a week. last november, i say to my friend samara on twitter, head of the BSHCU (buttslut hermann cinematic universe), hey this seems like something you’d have read, do you remember a fic where... and samara says FUCK i do know what you’re talking about lemme find it. so if the fact that i have been looking for this fic for like, two years, and that it contains a moment so iconic all i had to say is, “hermann says he fucked a trailer hitch” and she IMMEDIATELY knew what i was talking about, does not convince you to read this... go back to catholic school i guess.

Feeling Blue by TempusPetrichor

fics where newt goes back to work as a biologist, especially a xenobiologist, post pru are really interesting, and usually have something neat to say about recovery, how it isn’t linear, how it often involves us returning to things we love for comfort, etc. this one sure does! some good emotional and physical h/c, LOVE the use of the ghost drift, and it’s always fun to see post pru fics use dialogue very obviously taken from dbt, trauma-specific therapeutical texts, and anything that shows the author has experience with, or did their research on, ptsd therapies.

You’re Everyone That Ever Cared by KlavierWrites

you know a fic is good when it’s an only 9k slowburn and still manages to reach infinite regress levels of are you fucking KIDDING GO TO THERAPY. newt “acts of service” geiszler may have a little misplaced misogyny due to his broken woman-centric gaydar. as a treat. the fucking. post-drift scene where hermann subtextually screams “LOOK IN OUR BRAINS YOU FUCK I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU I JUST HAVE AUTISM AND CAREER IN STEM DISORDER” is soooooo. god just hermann in general in that scene is great. if you like classic mid 2010s era newmann, ghost drift romance, and good ole mutual pining, this is a treat.

Baby, You're Hotter than my Bunsen Burner by SkySongMA

moronosexual hermann representation is something that can actually be so personal

Times of Stress by RadioMoth

the boys are processinggggggg. man what a good, quick and powerful punch to the gut. if you like post-pr1 catharsis and physical h/c, AND are the one friend that likes to comment at the end of the movie that hey newt got beat the fuck UP, check this one out.

black tea by @faggotcas

okay first of all, god fucking tier url, lee. second of all, food as a love language is my SHIT. i love the very slow relationship development here, where you see them making a genuine effort to get along and that in turn leading to feelings reigniting. it’s such a sweet little moment of a fic, with a nice atmosphere and tone to fit it

now here’s the part where i usually drop my latest fic, but i haven’t written one this month because i’ve been busy launching an audio drama! you can find it here, it’ll be right up your alley if you like cryptids and gay scientists and enemies to lovers and good ole americana, but since this is a newmann post, i’m gonna recommend the pacific rim audio drama duology i did a while back! part one is called conversations from the brink, and it’s a little slice of the pr3 we better fucking get from streaming that godawful looking anime. love and lesbians to everyone ❤️

#pacific rim #pac rim #mine #newmann #pacific rim uprising #fic rec

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littleboy-logan · 3 years

Text

Little No More

Here, have a gigantic one shot lol, it’s my longest agere fic so far, and I hope you enjoy!!! 🖤🖤🖤

Summary: Logan decides to tell Roman, Patton, and Virgil about his age regression. It doesn’t go as planned and the consequences are unexpected

Characters: Logan, Virgil, Roman, Patton, Janus, Remus, C!Thomas

Pairing(s): intruloceit (platonic or romantic, you decide)

Warnings: Patton, Roman, and Virgil being judgmental about age regression (not exactly unsympathetic sides but read with caution i think), crying, hurt/comfort-ish, Logan angst, and i think that’s it but lemme know if I missed anything!!!

Word count: 5,857

Logan had to tell the others about his age regression.

They would find out on their own somehow eventually, he knew this. He would much rather be the one to tell them upfront. At least Remus and Janus knew already, so he only had Virgil, Roman, and Patton to tell.

Not an intimidating task at all.

He stood in his room staring at the door. He could do this. He glanced to his bed where his unicorn stuffie, Rainbow, sat. He picked her up and gave her a quick hug and set her back down.

For good luck.

He went out to find the others. Virgil and Roman were in the living room, Roman watching a movie while Virgil listened to something in his big headphones and scrolled through his phone. Where might Patton be?

"Oh, hey, Specs," Roman greeted. "Come to watch The Little Mermaid?"

"No, I actually needed to talk with all of you about something. Where's Patton?"

"Uh oh! My ears are burning!" Patton said cheerily as he entered the living room.

"Do you need some type of ointment for that?" Logan asked, Patton chuckling.

"Oh, no, I'm fine. What's up, kiddo?"

Logan opened his mouth to speak, but then turned to look at Virgil. He was still listening to music, seemingly unaware of Logan's presence. Logan sighed and gently tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped slightly before removing his headphones.

"What?" he asked.

"I needed to speak with the three of you about something important. Something that's... been on my mind."

"Oh, what is it?" Patton asked, and Logan noticed the hint of concern in his voice.

"Nothing's wrong, it's just... I wanted to... open up a bit."

"Oh, okay!" Patton sounded relieved. "Whatever it is, we'll be open minded! Right, you two?" He directed the last addition to Roman and Virgil.

"Absolutely!" Roman declared. "We're not here to judge, only to listen!"

"Yeah, how bad could it be, anyway?" Virgil agreed.

Logan swallowed. Their words of encouragement were helpful, though he was still wrought with anxiety. He noted humorously that it was ironic that it was him instead of Virgil facing anxiety.

Logan cleared his throat. "I'm sure it will be a shock to you, but I... I age regress."

There. It was out in the open. Logan couldn't stop glancing amongst everyone's faces, gauging their reactions. It seemed to be mostly confusion, which was valid and understandable.

"Uh... you mind explaining what that means?" Patton asked shyly, possibly nervous about upsetting him.

"Of course. Age regression is when someone mentally shifts to a younger headspace. It's a common reaction to stress or trauma, and helps the person cope with it. There is also voluntary regression, which I sometimes do. It's... basically a good way for me to unwind after a difficult day. Does that make sense?"

There was a pause until Roman spoke. "So... you act like... a kid?"

"It would be more accurate to say I am a kid, I suppose. Not physically, but mentally."

"How, though?" Virgil asked. "I don't... exactly get it."

Logan took a pause to gather his words. "It's a reaction that the mind has to certain stimuli, be it positive or negative. For instance, I... often find myself in a regressed state while watching certain movies or wearing certain clothes. Other times... it's due to... certain stressors. Sometimes it's easier to deal with the stress in a more childlike state, where everything is a bit simpler."

Roman chuckled. "So Mr I-Have-No-Feelings has stress?"

Logan took a deep breath. "Occasionally. My work can be... tiresome at times."

"It is a little weird that the embodiment of logic goes through enough stress to turn into a child," Virgil noted.

An ice cold spear went through Logan's heart. He had to convince himself that Virgil didn't mean it like that, but the phrasing was not particularly kind.

"And you do this... intentionally?" Patton asked.

"Y-yes. More often than not, it's voluntary. Although I have had a few moments of involuntary regression."

"I just don't get it," Roman murmured.

Logan was nervous, but continued on. "What don't you get, exactly?" he asked patiently.

"Any of it. I've never even heard of this before now. Are you sure you don't just... act childish sometimes?"

Logan's heart hurt. He looked down at the ground away from Roman. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but this wasn't it.

"I'm sure Roman doesn't mean to offend," Patton said with a nervous chuckle. "I mean, we all know I act childish sometimes! How do we know it's not the same thing?"

"There's a difference between acting like a child and actually being one," Logan stated firmly.

"But you're not one!" Virgil exclaimed. "You're Logic, you're the one who, like, knows what to do! You're probably the most mature one here! Maybe you like... kid stuff or whatever, but that doesn't mean you turn into a kid!"

Logan was on the verge of tears. He didn't want to be invalidated like this, but what if Virgil was right? What if he was wrong about his regression?

"Logan, I think Virgil's right," Patton spoke up. "While I don't know if age regression is a real thing, I doubt that's what you do. I mean, if you did that, Thomas probably would too! And the rest of us! It wouldn't make sense for it to just be you."

Logan's heart dropped when he realised they were right. He couldn't possibly age regress. This was something else entirely.

"You're right, I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't be sorry," Patton cooed. "I'm glad you told us so we could sort this whole thing out."

Logan nodded rather numbly. "I... I should go." With that, he sank out to his room.

He couldn't believe he'd been so foolish this whole time. He actually believed he was turning into a child when there was no evidence to support it.

Logic, an age regressor. What a silly idea.

***

He spent the next several days avoiding Remus and Janus. They would want to know how things went. They would want to care for their little regressed Logan.

Logan didn't have the heart to tell them it was all a lie.

He was surprised that Janus hadn't caught onto the deception. He could detect lies, everyone knew that. Even still, Logan knew the truth. He couldn't possibly be an age regressor.

He also repressed any possible feelings of childishness. Whenever he was tempted to snuggle a stuffie, he pushed the thought away. He occasionally wanted to suck on his pacifier, but refused. He knew repression was unhealthy and wouldn't do him any good, but what else could he do?

Though, of course, he couldn't avoid his former caregivers forever.

Janus and Remus had both been knocking on his door all week, but he never answered. This time, however, instead of knocking, they barged right in.

"Alright, what's going on?" Janus asked.

"Yeah, what gives, dude?" Remus exclaimed. "If you've been regressing alone—"

"I'm not regressing," Logan said firmly.

Janus's face twitched. "Half truth. What's going on?" he repeated more sternly.

"I'm not a regressor, it was never that. I simply... have more childish needs sometimes. And I'm putting a stop to it."

"You dumbhead, of course you regress!" Remus argued. "I've seen you regressed and you're adorable!"

"No! If I was a regressor, why isn't Thomas one as well? Or any of you?"

There was a pause before Janus spoke. "They didn't take it well, did they?"

Logan's stomach twisted into knots. "They helped me realise the truth. And the truth is I'm not a regressor."

"Janny, tell him he's lying," Remus said with a smirk. Janus said nothing and Remus looked over at him. "Jan?"

"He believes his words too much for me to say. They really broke him."

"No one broke me," Logan said. "If anything, they fixed me."

"Oh, Logan, there was nothing to fix," Janus said gently.

"I think maybe you should leave."

Remus whined. "But Logan—"

"Please."

Janus sighed. "Come on, Remus. It seems we're unwelcome here."

Remus pouted and crossed his arms. "Fine. I missed you, you dumb nerd."

They left, and Logan let his tears slip away.

Their presence made him feel like a child, and he had to push that away. So he pushed them away.

It was late, so he got ready for bed, silently crying all the while. He wiped away his tears and climbed into bed. He turned off his lamp and wept into his pillow.

He cried himself to sleep, and no one could have predicted what happened when he woke up.

***

Janus was rather upset with how things went. He decided to have a talk with Patton the next morning. He didn't tell Remus what he was doing, since he knew he would want to tag along.

He knocked on Patton's door, hearing Patton's ever cheery voice tell him to hold on. After a moment or two, the door opened, and there Patton was, though his smile faltered slightly upon seeing Janus there.

"Oh! Hi! This is unexpected! What's up?"

"Logan told you, didn't he?"

Patton seemed confused for a moment before realisation struck. "Oh, about... the kid thing."

Janus took a breath and restrained himself. "Yeah. That. The age regression. Did you tell him it wasn't real?"

"Oh, no! We helped him realise he doesn't do that! I never said it wasn't real!"

Janus wanted to punch a wall. "I see. I'm one of his caregivers, and I can assure you, he very much does. You hurt him. Quite a lot, actually. To the point where he seems to believe whatever lies you fed him. I've been with him when he's regressed. He's very different from the Logan you're familiar with."

Patton seemed rather uncomfortable, and if Janus was being honest, he considered that a win. "I just don't understand why Logan would do that when the rest of us don't, including Thomas."

"You don't have to understand. You just have to be respectful. Because he's not hurting anyone by being open and honest about who he is. But you hurt him when you invalidated a part of his identity."

Patton let out a breath and looked down at the ground. "Did I... did I really do that?"

"You did. And I'd like for you to make it right."

Patton nodded. "I will. Right now."

Janus went with Patton to Logan's room. He had to make sure things went well this time. Patton knocked on the door.

"Logan? You awake? I wanna talk about last week." There was no response, which Janus was expecting. "Please, Logan? I wanna make things right. What I said wasn't fair, I should've respected you and... understood that you... have your own experiences. Just because the rest of us don't do the age regression thing, that doesn't mean it's impossible for you to."

Janus forced back a smile. He was glad he was able to convince Patton that his words had hurt. He hoped Logan was willing to listen.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Patton apologised, and Janus knew he meant it. "Please... say something?" A pause, and Logan didn't respond. "If you don't say anything, I'm coming in."

Logan said nothing, and as promised, Patton opened the door. Logan was sitting on his bed with his covers pulled over his head. It looked almost as if he was hiding, and Janus hated that.

"Logan?" Patton murmured. No response.

He approached the sheeted figure and removed the blanket. He gasped at what was revealed underneath.

A very small child was on Logan's bed. Wearing his clothes?

Janus stared in awe at the child, who cowered away in fear. Patton's paternal instincts seemed to kick in at that moment.

"Oh, hey, it's okay," he soothed. "We're not gonna hurt you, kiddo, okay? What's your name?"

The child didn't respond immediately, but Janus had his suspicions. The curly brown hair, the crystal blue eyes, Logan's pyjamas, it was fairly obvious.

"Logic."

A chill ran down Janus's spine while Patton softly gasped. They exchanged a look, both of shock, before looking at the child once more. Logan was staring at Janus's scales it seemed, which only served to make him self conscious.

"Logan?" Patton asked. "You're... so young."

"Who are you?" Logan asked frightfully. "And who's Logan?"

There was a pause until Janus spoke up. "That will take some explaining, I would imagine. If you truly don't remember us."

"I don't. Should I?"

Patton put a hand over his mouth, likely to keep from crying. Janus had to admit, he was rather emotional as well. He wanted Logan to remember him.

"We're Thomas's Sides... all grown up," Janus explained.

Logan's eyes widened. "But that's impossible! Thomas is six!"

"I'm afraid not. He's currently thirty years old. You have... as it would seem, age regressed to the point of both physical transformation and amnesia."

Logan blinked. "I... shapeshifted? But... only the king can do that."

"Oh my gosh," Patton murmured, another chill going down Janus's spine.

"Yes... about that... we'll have to update you on everything that has happened since Thomas's youth. Uh... let's see, six years old. Thomas was... I believe seven or eight when the divide occurred. The king is... no longer the king. He became two separate Sides known as the prince and the duke. After that, we stopped going by our... functional names, and adopted human names. You chose the name Logan."

Janus gave him some time to process all of that before continuing. He seemed quite surprised, which was understandable. This must have been rather shocking information.

"The king is gone?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so."

"And my name is... Logan?"

"Yes. And this is Morality— no, wait, at six you were called Emotions. He now goes by Patton. Mine is Janus, but you know me as—"

"Deceit."

Janus paused for a moment. "The scales made that one obvious, didn't they?"

Logan grinned. "You're funny."

Janus smiled, his heart fluttering in his chest. He cleared his throat and decided to continue.

"Do you remember Fear?" he asked. Logan nodded, though he frowned. "Thomas knows him now. But he knows him as Anxiety, also known as Virgil."

Logan raised his brows. "Really? Does he know you too?"

"He does. He even knows my human name, which I was reluctant to give for some time. Though I suppose you wouldn't know anything about that."

"Why did the king change?"

Janus's heart hurt quite a bit hearing that question. As much as he enjoyed the company of Remus, and appreciated Roman when he wasn't attacking him, he truly missed the king.

"Uh... Thomas repressed the... darker creativity that... the king sometimes indulged in. When they separated, the prince took the... butterflies and rainbows, while the duke... he took the, uh... monsters and... scary storms."

"Oh. Interesting. So... why did I lose my memory and get so young?"

"That I'm afraid I don't know. This is... a new development. I know that last night you were upset, and you've been repressing your age regression, but I—"

"What's that?" Logan interrupted.

"Oh, it's when someone mentally becomes younger. It's a coping method."

"Then maybe I did that so hard that I shapeshifted. If I repressed it, it must've gone wrong."

Janus knew he made a good point. He just wished he knew how to undo it.

"If you repressed your regression so much that you mentally and physically regressed back to your six year old self, then how on earth do we rectify that?"

"We need the others," Patton spoke up, his voice thick and his eyes glossy. "They can help us fix this."

Janus gave a quick nod. He held out his hand towards Logan. "Come on, follow us. We'll introduce you to Virgil and the twins."

Logan blinked. He slowly got out of his bed and struggled to keep his now oversized pyjamas on. Janus realised he would need new clothes.

"Um, Patton, can you—"

"Of course," Patton waved a hand and Logan was in a short sleeve navy button up, a red bow tie, and blue jeans.

Janus smiled. "Better?"

Logan returned the expression. He looked up at Patton. "Thank you."

Patton smiled but Janus knew it was forced. "Of course, kiddo."

Logan took Janus's hand and they all walked to the living room. Janus had Logan sit on the couch next to Patton and he summoned the other three. Which, of course, meant that only the twins rose up. Typical.

"Who's the kid?" Remus asked in a delighted voice.

"Why is there a child here, exactly?" Roman asked, sounding more along the lines of confused.

"I'm Logic," Logan introduced. "Or, I guess Logan. Hm, I like that name. No wonder I chose it."

"What?" The twins both exclaimed, an equal amount of concern in their voices.

"Long story, but first, where's Virgil?" Janus asked rather impatiently.

Roman rolled his eyes. "Virgil, listen to the snake!" he said as he raised an arm, Virgil rising up and stumbling slightly.

"God, I hate doing that," he grumbled, freezing upon seeing Logan. "Who's the kid?"

"That's what I asked!" Remus said. "It's Logan!"

"No seriously, who's the kid?" Virgil asked.

"I really am Logan," Logan said. "I seem to be... smaller."

Virgil's eyebrows shot up. "What? That- what? How? Why? What?"

"When and who!" Remus added gleefully.

"Logan has been repressing his age regression to the point where it has caused him to not only shapeshift but to also lose his memory," Janus explained. "As far as he's concerned, Thomas is a six year old boy."

Remus approached Logan and knelt in front of him. "Hey, little guy! I'm Remus! You want a lollipop?"

Logan smiled and nodded. Remus summoned two identical lollipops, one in each hand.

"One of these tastes like butterscotch, and the other tastes like frog's breath!"

Janus sighed sharply. "Remus—"

"Choose carefully! Hope you like butterscotch!"

Logan giggled and looked between each lollipop. He put a finger to his chin in thought before picking the one in Remus's left hand. He put it in his mouth and smiled.

"I love butterscotch!" he spoke around the candy.

Remus ruffled Logan's hair and got to his feet. He glanced over at Janus. "Frog's breath lollipop?"

Janus rolled his eyes. "We need to focus. We have to find a way to reverse this."

"Wait, you said he's been repressing his age regression?" Virgil asked.

"Unfortunately."

"He doesn't age regress! We talked about that like a week ago."

"Makes you wonder why he might have been repressing it," Janus snapped.

Patton stepped in before Virgil could fire back. He got to his feet and held up his hands between the two of them.

"Hey, now, let's not argue. It's true, Virgil, we were wrong. Let's not debate on whether or not Logan regresses, now is not the time."

Virgil sighed and shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. He said nothing, and neither did Janus.

"Didn't he say he does that when he's stressed?" Roman asked.

"He does, yes," Janus said softly.

"Maybe if he's relaxed enough, he'll go back to normal."

"It may not be that simple, Roman," Janus said. "This is more than just Logan being shapeshifted, this is also an amnesiac episode."

"Do you have any better suggestions?"

Janus sighed shortly. "Well, no."

"Then we might as well try, right?"

Janus paused before conceding. "Fine. What do you propose we do to relax?"

Roman snapped his fingers and the living room had suddenly changed. There was a blanket fort on the couch, there was a table with bags of popcorn, and with a flourish, Roman had changed into his Beauty and the Beast onesie.

Janus raised a brow. "A little extra, wouldn't you say?"

"Absolutely."

Logan giggled from inside the blanket fort. He poked his head out. "You gotta teach me how to do that!"

Roman smiled. "How does a Disney marathon sound?"

Logan clapped his hands. "Yay! Can we start with The Lion King? I haven't seen it since we saw it at the theatre!"

"Oh, but of course!" Roman snapped his fingers again, and Disney+ was on the screen ready to play The Lion King. "Everyone get changed into a onesie!"

"I don't have one," Logan said.

Roman waved his hand. "Of course you do."

Logan looked down at his fluffy Stitch onesie and gasped. "I don't know what this is, but I love it!"

"Oh, that's right, you wouldn't remember Lilo & Stitch. We shall watch that one next!"

Everyone changed into their onesies, though Janus was rather reluctant. He wasn't sure that this would help, but at least Logan was having fun.

"C'mon, snake eyes!" Remus said, wearing the rat onesie he wore when Logan was regressed. "Get into the spirit!"

"For once, I agree with my brother!" Roman teased. "What, don't you have a onesie?"

Janus waved his hand and changed into his snake onesie, the hands shaped like extra snake heads. "I still don't think this will work."

"Let's hope you're wrong."

They all got settled in to watch the movie. Janus sat with Logan in the blanket fort, holding him in his lap as he ate from one of the popcorn bags. He didn't like to admit how protective he was over little Logan, but he very much was. Now that he was this... size, that protective nature only doubled.

He kept an eye on Logan more than watched the movie. He seemed plenty relaxed, and yet still no change. Janus couldn't wait around much longer, he wanted to find a solution as soon as possible.

"I still don't understand why Scar sent the hyenas after him after sending him off," Roman complained. "They couldn't finish the job the first time, so why didn't he just buckle down and get his claws dirty?"

"You know, I'm beginning to suspect that watching a children's movie is no way to get Logan back to being in his adult form," Janus pointed out.

Roman paused. "Maybe so. But what do you suggest?"

Janus gave it some thought. He looked down at Logan, who was still watching the movie. He thought about everything he knew about Logan, and then it hit him.

"What does Logan do to unwind other than age regression? Puzzles. What if we all start putting together a puzzle? That might work."

"Ooh, good idea!" Patton exclaimed. "He's got plenty of puzzles in his room, let's get a big one!"

"I do?" Logan asked.

"Yeah, you wanna pick the one we do?" Janus asked, subconsciously putting on his caregiver voice. It seemed to delight Logan as he excitedly climbed out of the blanket fort.

Janus went with Logan to his room to pick out a puzzle. They were all kept on his bookshelf, and Logan immediately went with the one with a fox in a forest. They went back to the living room with it and Logan was quick to begin setting it up.

The Sides all gathered around to sort out the different pieces by colour, keeping the edge pieces in their own pile. It wasn't long before Roman began complaining.

"This will take far too long!" he whined.

"Nuh uh," Logan argued. "If we do this together, it'll be easy."

Roman groaned dramatically, but conceded. They all continued sorting through pieces and putting them together. It was a fairly large puzzle, so they had their work cut out for them, but they could easily have it done before the end of the day.

"Any memories coming back?" Virgil asked, connecting a couple edge pieces.

"No," Logan responded. "But I am enjoying the puzzle."

"You would," Roman teased, Logan giggling.

"Just so everyone is aware," Janus began. "Once we get Logan back to normal, we will be having a discussion about his age regression. All of us."

There was a pause before Virgil spoke up. "I still think it's weird."

Janus clenched his fists. "I will sucker punch you."

"Let's not get violent," Patton said calmly. "We all do weird things, let's not be judgmental."

"I don't think it's that weird," Logan stated matter of factly. "I can see why someone would want to be six. There's not as much stress as grown ups deal with. You can do pretty much whatever you want. Who wouldn't want to be six?"

There was silence amongst the group. They all exchanged a glance and continued working on the puzzle. It wasn't too much longer before it was completed.

"Still nothing?" Janus asked.

"No. Maybe we should get another puzzle."

"I don't think puzzles will help," Janus murmured. "There must be something else to try."

They spent all day exploring different solutions, all of which ultimately failing. Logan found it particularly exhausting. By the end of the day, he was dead tired.

Everyone went to bed, Janus helping Logan get ready. He got Logan changed into his Stitch onesie and summoned him a simple nightlight. Janus left, and Logan could finally sleep. Though just as he thought he was about to drift off, he felt the ever familiar internal tug from Thomas.

He was being summoned.

He rose up and saw who could only be the grown up Thomas sitting in bed. He thought seeing the Sides as grown ups could prepare him for what Thomas would look like, but he was quite wrong.

Though, of course, he did look just as shocked as he had imagined.

"Uh... okay, I know I summoned Logan," Thomas said.

"You did. I'm him."

Thomas raised his eyebrows. "Okay. Why do you look like that?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got time."

Logan sat down next to Thomas on the bed, realising he was still holding the unicorn stuffie he'd been snuggling in bed. He held it close and began explaining.

"Well, I'm not s'posed to be six. I do something called age regression. From what Janus said, it means I turn into a kid in my head. But for some reason, I turned into a kid physically too. I also lost my memory, so I don't know why this happened, but it did. Questions?"

Thomas blinked. "Uh, yeah. So... you age regress?"

"I guess. I don't know much about it, since I'm six, but it's a way to cope with stress. I think it makes the others uncomfortable."

"Why do you say that?" Thomas asked, sounding somewhat concerned.

"Virgil said it was weird. Remus and Janus are nice about it, though. Maybe it is weird. Maybe I'm weird."

"Logan, no," Thomas said firmly yet calmly. "You're not weird for coping with your stress however you need to. If that means... reverting back to being a kid, that's absolutely fine."

Logan smiled at the warm feeling in his chest. "So... you don't think it's weird?"

"No way, kid. It makes you special. I accept you for everything you are, including regressing."

"So Mr I-Have-No-Feelings has stress?"

"It is a little weird that the embodiment of logic goes through enough stress to turn into a child."

"I mean, we all know I act childish sometimes! How do we know it's not the same thing?"

Everything flooded into Logan's mind all at once. It was almost too much to bear.

"Oh, shut up nerdy Wolverine!"

"I'm gonna prohibit your breathing if you keep this up!"

"Logan, can you stop? Please?"

Tears filled Logan's eyes as he remembered it all. His head felt as though it was about to crack from the strain.

At least when he finally collapsed onto the floor, the last memory to flash through his mind was of Janus and Remus caring for him.

***

Logan awoke rather slowly. His head still hurt, but not as badly. He opened his eyes. He was back in his room.

His memory had returned, but at what cost? His precious innocence, his joyful youth. Every reason he regressed, the intangible things that he wanted to remember.

He looked to the side of his bed and saw Janus in a chair with his head in his hands. He seemed distraught.

"Janus?" Logan asked roughly.

Janus's head snapped up, eyes wide as they landed on him. "Logan. I was worried, we all were. How do you feel?"

"Headache. Were you really worried about me?"

"Of course. When Thomas called us in after you passed out, I... I didn't know what to do. I'm just glad you're okay."

Logan didn't know how to feel. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling. After everything that happened, he didn't like admitting how close to regression he was, but he knew he couldn't push the feelings away anymore.

"Papa Jay?" he asked in a small voice, Janus immediately taking his hand.

"Yes, my little starlight?"

"What if the others treat me different?"

"Well... I can't promise that they won't. But if they hurt you, you can always come to me, and I will never judge you."

Tears rose to Logan's eyes. He glanced around for Rainbow, and when he spotted her he immediately grabbed her and held her to his chest.

"I should talk to 'em. But... what do I say?"

"Explain that their words hurt you. I'm sure that, given recent events, they'll listen. Do you want me there with you when you talk to them?"

"Yes, p'ease."

Logan figured there was no time like the present, so even in his mostly regressed headspace, he decided to talk with them. He held Janus's hand and they walked through the mindscape in search of them. Patton and Virgil were in the kitchen, Patton doing dishes while Virgil sat on the counter scrolling through his phone.

"Hi," Logan murmured, getting both Sides' attention.

Patton dropped the cup in his hand and went over to give Logan a hug. He slowly reciprocated, fiddling with the fabric of Patton's shirt. He saw Virgil get down from the counter and put his phone away.

"Good to see you, L," he greeted.

Patton pulled away, holding Logan's face in his hands. "I'm so sorry that I made you feel bad, Logan! I didn't mean to! You - you can regress all you want! I support you, okay?"

Logan's tears returned, and this time they fell. Patton wiped them away with his thumbs.

Janus placed a hand on Logan's shoulder, which reminded him of what he came out here to say in the first place.

"Where's Roman?" he asked with a sniffle.

Patton raised a hand and summoned Roman. He seemed mildly annoyed until he saw Logan and a small smile graced his lips.

"Oh, thank god!" Roman suddenly lifted Logan in the air with ease, spinning the two of them around. Logan broke out into a fit of giggles, squealing with delight. He finally set Logan down, but continued to hug him. "You scared me a little."

Logan's heart jumped in his chest. "I did?"

"Yeah. I wasn't sure when you were gonna wake up."

"I thought princes weren't scared of anything."

Roman was about to speak until he pulled away and carefully scanned Logan's face. "Are you... regressed right now?"

Logan blushed and looked away. His stomach tied itself up in knots. He was suddenly very shy about speaking until Janus took his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," he whispered. "Tell them what's on your mind."

Logan took a deep breath. "When I said I regress... you said I was weird. You made me think I made it all up. It hurt. 'Cause I trusted you, and... I... I'm really mad at you! All of you!"

There was a long silence as they all took that in. Logan was on the verge of tears again but he didn't want to cry. He was done crying.

"You have every right to be mad at us," Patton said forlornly. "The way we reacted was... shameful. And I'm so sorry if we broke your trust in us."

"Yeah, I never should've said it was weird," Virgil spoke up. "I... I never meant that you were weird, I just meant the age regression itself... which I guess isn't much better. Still, I... I'm really sorry. We hurt you — I hurt you. If age regressing makes you feel good, then... I shouldn't have reacted the way I did."

"Oh, Logan," Roman murmured. "I'm so very sorry for invalidating you. I just... didn't understand. But that's no excuse. I... I did research last night, about age regression, and I understand now that it's a healthy way to cope, and... I never should have judged you."

Logan was overwhelmed by everything that was said. He hadn't expected such a warm response. Of course, it would still be difficult to trust them, but this was a good first step towards that.

Over time, Logan felt more and more comfortable regressing around Roman, Virgil, and Patton. It took some patience, but they managed.

Logan was mid-regression with Virgil in the living room, but he felt too awkward to say anything. Although Virgil must have picked up on it because he started showing Logan cat videos on his phone. It wasn't too long before he was fully regressed with Virgil there to watch him.

Not long after that, he was working with Roman on the next Sanders Sides script and became stressed, which led to an involuntary regression. He tried to hide it and get back to work, but Roman casually said they both needed a break to watch some Disney in onesies.

A week later, Logan was making dinner when he felt he was about to regress. He didn't want to, but it was inevitable. How would he be able to cook if he was regressed?

Patton walked in. "Hey, Lo! Ooh, smells good!"

Logan didn't respond, frozen on the spot. He couldn't figure out what he was supposed to do next, why couldn't he remember?

"You good, kiddo?"

The kiddo was what sent him spiralling.

Logan whined, on the verge of tears. He didn't know how to tell Patton he was too little to be cooking. Dinner was going to be ruined, all because he couldn't keep it together for ten minutes.

"Hey." Patton gently placed a hand on Logan's back, approaching his side. "You feeling little?"

Logan nodded. Patton led him to the kitchen table and sat him down. He went back to the stove and fiddled with a few things. Logan felt awful. He couldn't even do this one simple task.

Patton came back over. "You still wanna help?" he asked. Logan hesitantly nodded. "Okay, you get to be in charge of spices! I tell you what to sprinkle in, and you put it in. Think you can do it?"

Logan grinned and nodded again. He could do that, no problem.

He was so worried about being treated differently. Little did he know, being treated differently was just what he needed.

#virgils fics #agere sanders sides #agere #agere fic #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #agere logan #cg janus #cg remus

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xbrockie · 2 years

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i’ve been working through/realizing some things and wanted to shout about them into a void, and there’s no better void to shout into than tumblr, so here i am

so i’ve been working on (using that term loosely here bc this is pure, self-indulgent fun that i will never show to anyone) this story—a spin-off of a fanfic some friends and i wrote in HIGH SCHOOL—for uhhhhhh like fifteen years, and every few years or so i change things around: character names or personalities, relationships, plot points, etc.

it’s always set in the modern day, at a more-or-less idyllic sleep-away summer camp. there’s like 40 different camp counselor characters i’ve fleshed out at this point, although i tend to focus on the same few throughout all the iterations. i’ve got a self-insert character in there as well who doesn’t show up a ton (lmao??), but i usually have her doing cute stuff in the background.

ANYWAY.

typically, whenever i have a new idea or want to change things about the story, i leave the old document the way it is and create a new one, so i have docs from like, 2014 sitting in my drive (actually they’re probably older than 2014!! since i think i must have transferred everything over to drive in 2014, and that’s when i graduated COLLEGE). lemme tell ya, it’s a TRIP to go back through some of those older docs.

i know we’re supposed to HATE THE CRINGE or wtfever but reading through my writing over this past summer really highlighted to me that this ‘story’ is actually more of a diary? not in the traditional sense, obvs, but i really pour out my opinions and views and things i’m going through while writing this story, particularly when i’m writing through different characters’ points of view.

DON’T GET ME WRONG. IT IS EXTREMELY EMBARASSING. ESPECIALLY those early years. for a story with several gay characters (including the main character!!), it was SO STRAIGHT for SO LONG. i think there’s one?? established gay relationship that i never cover in the story itself but have in my notes?? bisexuality?? what’s that?? all the pretty girls are MEAN and SLUTS!! romantic relationships between women appeared to be INCONCIEVEABLE to me in high school.

anyway. very embarrassing. but like, makes it soooo clear how i viewed the world at that time. and as i grew as a person i’d come back to this story and change things to fit my new experiences.

like i can tell i wrote a certain scene when i was still in college, because it reflected something that happened to me IN college. i wrote the scene from the point of the main character, watching and commenting on something happening to my self-insert character (just a dude flirting with her LOL but also :’) y’all i had. NO experience. with anything). again. SO CRINGE but also this was clearly me looking at my life from a distance and going “i think i want to be perceived like this—being flirted with in a way others can see is something i want.’ there were lots of scenes that took place in my freshman dorm room that i more or less translated into the story, because they felt very ‘normal college experience!!’ to me, and i felt like a normal, ‘cool’ kid for having experienced them :’’’’’’’’’’)

blessedly, i have grown, and so has this ‘story’ and its characters.

i have several huge character sheets (40 characters is a lot to keep track of) that detail relationships between characters and other random details, and adding ‘is bisexual’ to my self-insert’s notes wasn’t in itself a huge detail (by the time i added sexualities in my character notes, i’d known i was bi for a bit), but re-reading it every time i went through all my notes was probably pretty validating actually?? it’s also interesting to me to see the evolution of my self-insert as a character—at first, she (i?) starts out the same age as the main character (high school or early college, depending on when i wrote it), and is kind of ‘in the know’ about the current drama or whatever is going on.

as i got older, i split the story more clearly between the younger camp counselors, and the older ones. i moved my self insert out of the main character’s (again, a younger counselor) circle, because it just didn’t make sense for her to have the same relationships with that age group anymore. i found myself being able to more and more easily write for the older counselor characters, and my self-insert fit there (obviously) too.

NOW there’s such a big age gap between the youngest and oldest counselors it comes so naturally to have my self-insert character give advice to the younger ones, and for the younger characters to view her (and the other older counselors) as a mentor and a ‘real adult’ who has her shit together. like?? ayyyyyy that’s kind of cool of me, actually?? like it doesn’t feel that way in real life all the time, but looking at it this way helps to put it in perspective.

and the way i describe romantic relationships??? for sooooo long i described my self-insert as ‘hooking up’ with whomever (a dude. always a dude) and usually had them keeping things on the down-low. when i most recently went in and changed things up, i decided that, no actually, my self insert (me???) has a hawt butch gf who is really cool and has cool muscles and is tough but also sweet and a lil shy!! fuck it!!!

idk if that’s what the kids these days call ‘manifesting’ but that’s what i’m calling it.

it’s fun to be self indulgent and WANT THINGS??? it seems like i did this briefly in high school, based on my writing at that time, but there was some shame associated with self indulgence at that point in my life, so i was pretty passive about wanting things. not to mention?? the things i wanted in high school were actually not so great. so. kind of a wash there, i guess.

anyway!!!! there really isn’t a point to this reflection, i kind of just wanted to write it down? i’ve been trying little by little to not close myself off and isolate and instead be open with my thoughts!? an unknown concept on tumblr dot com i know, but i’m chronically late to the party so give me a break!!!

if you made it to the bottom of this post: congratulations. but also: why??? but ALSO: thank you for reading and i love you 😌🥰

#reflections!#rambling!#this is embarassing!#if you need a barometer for HOW embarrassing i use the word self-insert nine times!!

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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I’m writing this scene between Lilith and Bruce right now, and I just cut a whole segue their conversation took because it derailed it too far from where I meant to take it and was more of a meta thought anyway.

So I’m just gonna verbalize it here so as not to waste that thought. You’re welcome!

But purely on a pet peeve note (and this seriously isn’t a response to something I read lately, I feel like people always think that’s what prompts everything I say but honestly, sometimes shit just pops into my head and this is one such instance lol) - anyway like, lemme just express real quick how much I LOATHE the term ‘mindrape.’

Like. Please stop forever with that, sci-fi and fantasy themed media and entertainment. That’s not a thing. Stop trying to make it a thing.

To be perfectly clear, like, the idea of a telepath or someone via some technology or magic being able to go into your head and view or pluck out your most private, carefully guarded thoughts? Abso-fucking-lutely something that can and should be viewed as a violation, in universe.

Its just....not rape. Its literally not.

I honestly do think that the rise of this particular term was because people thought about it and just HOW intimate and personal one’s thoughts can be, especially someone who is used to being closed-off and emotionally guarded, and when trying to come up with a way to describe this that captured the INTENSITY of the violation people were picturing when they imagined this.....that’s how people ended up linking it to rape as a way of conveying just how awful a violation it was?

But like.....rape is a very specific act, is the thing. It has specific context, it has specific catalysts, framing, fallout. Rape has its own name rather than just being described as a violating assault or an act of violation, because rape is a SPECIFIC act that carries its own connotations in our society. And those connotations aren’t something that entertainment should feel comfortable borrowing just to use as like, a benchmark for how awful a completely fictitious concept might be.

Because that dilutes the very purpose of giving rape its own name in the first place. The more its likened to an abstract sense of violation that feasibly encompasses pretty much anything that falls under the umbrella of personal violation.....the less it stands out as notably different from other forms of violation and calls to mind the things that MAKE it different, and thus warrant it being treated differently or approached in a specific way.

And here’s the thing about WHY rape has its own terminology:

First....there’s the fact that whether we like it or not, the simple reality is our society is obsessed with sex. We live in a very heavily sexualized world, where its often difficult to completely separate ANYTHING from sexual connotations. Its easier to make just about anything ABOUT sex than it is to make anything that’s remotely sex-adjacent about something OTHER than sex.

Now combine that with the fact that while rape is about power, and taking it from a victim or exerting it over a victim.....rape is INTRINSICALLY connected to sex. True, rape is not sex, its an act of aggression, not a sexual act. There is no way to engage in rape without simultaneously engaging in violence. There is no way for someone to consent to what is inherently by definition a stripping away of consent.

Rape is not sex. But sex is the VEHICLE by which a rapist takes or exerts power SPECIFICALLY. While at the exact same time, a HUGE part of why survivors struggle so much with getting the support they need in recovery.....is because due to how SEXUALIZED rape is in our society, in our media and just our very conversations of it, most rape survivors face the stumbling block of their assault and violation being viewed as more about sex than it was power.

Essentially, even though on the surface even most people ‘know’ that rape isn’t sex and rape is about power.....lots of people fall into the trap of looking at rape and thinking of it as sex gone wrong, or sex someone regrets, or tons of other thoughts that have more to do with sex than rape. Because from a pretty early age, anyone who doesn’t ALREADY have their own view and awareness of rape....has their view of rape then informed pretty much just by how its depicted and presented in media and entertainment. Where its of course heavily filtered through a very sexual lens.

So even while consciously KNOWING that rape isn’t an act of sex but one strictly of violence, entitlement and power....lots of people still have to contend with and push back against a foundation of it being more closely associated with sex in their minds, as the easily visualized IMAGE of what rape LOOKS like on the surface.....than other things it has more in common with once you look at anything OTHER than the visual of it, such as focusing on the motivating factors for rape and WHY rapists do what they do.

Theft, coercion, other crimes and concepts that more accurately reflect a rapist’s desire to TAKE what they were told was not theirs to take or to just degrade or humiliate someone in the most intimate way possible, or to turn a person’s very body into a weapon against them or to injure someone in a way that is meant to be more lasting or permanent in its effect on a person than just inflicting a physical wound.....any and all of these things have far more to do with why rapists rape than a simple desire for sex.

Rapists don’t rape because its the only way for them to have sex, even. Because even when rape is very much attraction based....its STILL not about just wanting to have sex with the person of their focus....its about wanting to have sex with them even despite being told no, or without giving them even the chance to say no. Even when a rapist ONLY targets a person because of their specific physical attraction to that person and their desires/fantasy to have sex with that specific person and not someone else.....the crime itself is still ABOUT stripping that person of their personhood in order to simply act upon them as the OBJECT of their focus/attraction...rather than any kind of a partner in a mutually beneficial or engaged-in act.

But despite all of that.....ask any non-survivor what springs to mind first when they hear the word ‘rape’....and chances are the resulting thoughts are more instinctively geared towards sex than power.

All of this is directly linked to our tendency as a society to view and treat and even talk about rape in terms of it most commonly being sex that got out of control. Despite the fact that no act of rape was EVER going to be an act of sexual partnership......because the very thing that turns something FROM sex INTO rape....is the MOMENT a rapist determines or feels that sex with a person is off the table or simply not what they’re interested in.....because they either don’t have or don’t WANT their victim’s partnership in what happens. They simply want to take. To steal. To use. To abuse.

Without exception.

Honestly, this got a lot more indepth than I was intending to go when I was just riffing off of a thought that popped into my mind about how I just really don’t like the term mindrape.....but a big part of the problem I have with the term is how indepth you basically HAVE to go in order to fully convey just why the term is so.....not a valid comparison to make to rape, with anyone who doesn’t already have an instinctive or reactive understanding of rape that’s more based on what rape TAKES than with how its usually depicted or talked about, where its in terms of what rape LOOKS like.

Because alllll of the above connotations and how important and central they are to any actual examination or discussion of rape....they simply do not carry over into a concept like someone reading your mind without permission.

Again, its not that such a thing wouldn’t be extremely violating IMO. It absolutely would be.

My point is simply that rape is always a violation, but violations are not always rape. SEXUAL violations are rape. But there’s a ton of ways a person or even something like a law or concept or even a freaking BUSINESS contract can be violated. And these aren’t interchangeable.

Are a person’s most intimate thoughts something incredibly personal, something no one should be allowed to take without permission? Sure. Absolutely. But imagine how else such a scenario could take place even in our real world, without needing a concept such as telepathy to make it feasible. Think about anything from someone reading a person’s carefully guarded or hidden diary or journal where they record thoughts they NEVER expect or want someone else to be privy to. Think about someone being tortured to give up information they’d be willing to give up their life to keep secret. Think about a burglar breaking into someone’s home when they’re not there and going through all their most personal belongings, leaving evidence that some stranger has been there and seen and touched all of that and you now don’t feel like you have the ability to keep anything safe and hidden from others, even in the safety and security of your own home.

Are all of these things different kinds of violation, most of which carry a great degree of intensity and personal betrayal or harm?

Absolutely.

But are any of them interchangeable with RAPE?

Or are they a bit easier to separate from from that concept once laid out to this degree, to see as completely separate and distinct things that may have some overlap but not necessarily even in the same ways or places they’re usually viewed as overlapping with rape as a concept?

Since I began this as a fandom related concept, lemme bring that back for a final thought.

Instead of likening other things TO rape, imagine if we did the same thing in reverse, and likened rape TO other things instead.

In terms of even just Batcharacters.....think about how often its been raised as an actual STORY point, that many Bat characters have shown a willingness or even tendency to cross all kinds of ethical boundaries and illegally surveil someone or intrude upon boundaries in the name of ‘the greater good’ or because they feel the ends justify the means.

Now imagine if all of those instances, no matter how large or small a violation....from a simple breaking and entering job to get inside a Rogue’s secret hideout in order to steal the location of their next crime....to putting bugs and cameras into someone’s home without their knowledge or permission and even just being able to spy on them naked or when revealing extremely personal information while thinking there’s no one else around to hear it, regardless of whether or not that’s what the character intends those to be used for or never actually uses them in that way.....

Imagine if all of THOSE violations were considered, viewed and talked about as not just breaches of privacy but as RAPE, specifically....with any relevant Bat-characters thus by extension specifically being rapists for having engaged in such violations.

And then, let’s flip the script back AGAIN, and now look at those instances where characters intrude, surveil, cross boundaries or invade privacies in the name of trying to save people or prevent tragedies or in the name of that always handy alleged ‘greater good.’

Try using that ‘in the name of [...]’ clause in regards to when and why a rapist rapes, and see how......not good that is. Has any of the above EVER been an ACTUAL justification for why someone rapes someone else? COULD it ever be? I know there’s the fuck or die trope and there’s more than a few variations of it in which one hero is forced to essentially rape another one or someone innocent or else the villain will kill them both, or kill the other person, or something like that....but even then, the actual RAPE is still on the villain or person exerting coercion, so no, not even then is rape being done in the name of saving/protecting someone or some supposed greater good. Its still the villain that’s doing the actual violating, that’s making the CHOICE to set up this scenario and limit the hero’s options to either ‘participating’ or signing someone’s death warrant....and just like sex is the vehicle by which rape occurs, the ‘raping’ hero is in this kind of scenario STILL just being used as a proxy by the actual person with the actual intent and desire to violate and assault the other person, and in being used in such a way, and in an inherently sexualized way themself.....it simply makes the ‘raping’ hero still not an actual rapist, but an additional rape victim of the ultimate villain as well.

See how complicated and messy this all gets, and how quickly?

And especially given that it doesn’t ever NEED to get there, in either direction, since there’s plenty of ways to describe varying types and degrees of violation with specificity, without resorting to ‘rounding up’ to refer to them as rape as a shorthand for expressing it was a particularly intimate or sensitive violation - and without losing sight of the fact that violations that result even in the THEFT of sensitive, personal information or secrets.....still only result in things like pieces of INFORMATION being what’s stolen, rather than someone’s entire bodily autonomy and personal agency.

Anyway, in conclusion the point is really just that we come up with the terms we do for specific reasons, and while language and contexts do evolve, grow, and even wholly change over time for a variety of reasons, it is important to take note of when that happens so we can determine if that change SHOULD be happening or if key contexts or connotations are being left out or overlooked in the process or wake of language changing.

And while I kept my point here limited to the example of rape and ‘mind rape,’ it applies to a ton of other stuff and topics as well. This just happened to be the one on my mind at the moment, but this kind of awareness can and should definitely be applied to a lot of other discussions involving sensitive or emotionally charged topics as well.

We come up with specific words and terms with INTENT. The creation of a specific term or phrase almost always involves having seen a NEED for such specificity in the first place, in order to denote key differences between something and other things it might be similar to but not fully described or encompassed by previously existing words or phrases.

Before treating concepts as interchangeable, we should always take care to make sure that they are, in fact, actually interchangeable.

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hopeymchope · 3 years

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hey, sorry to barge into your inbox despite being a total stranger (and feel free to respond to this privately if you want) but i came across some of your s/n/k critical posts and i just wanted to say i agree SO much. and i wanted to thank you for vocalizing this opinion because i know both i and some others agree with you. i've personally felt that everything after chapter 80 was a mistake (because i thought the whole serum fight over erwin vs armin was pretty fuckin stupid too) and it's kinda funny (i guess) to see the ending 100% validate my opinion completely. i can't believe every character was done this dirty for the sake of a very poorly constructed "both sides are bad" scenario that was also in VERY poor taste considering the explicit allegories to n*zi germany and a literal race war. like what's up with the jews - sorry, the "eldians" - once ruling the entire world via a bloodthirsty empire and also being inhuman creatures? gee, that sure doesn't sound like every antisemitic conspiracy theory i've ever heard. and way to rationalize oppression, too. the entire point of an oppression narrative is supposed to be "hey, the oppressor's prejudices have no rational basis and are literally mistreating this oppressed group due to their own selfishness and cruelty," not "oh btw marley's fear/hatred of eldians kinda makes sense considering eldians once enslaved the entire planet and can turn into giant man-eating monsters." is*yama SERIOUSLY should've just stuck to writing glorified vore lmao.

and while all the characters were either killed, turned into plot devices, or both, it hurts that EMA and the main protag himself suffered this treatment as well. i still think pre-timeskip eren is utterly irreconciliable with post-timeskip eren and the fact that both fans and the author himself try to make it seem like "hey he was ALWAYS a batshit crazy psychopath from the start!" is sort of pathetic to watch. like yeah, lemme just ignore the first 80 chapters of character development for this guy. or lemme pretend that the author didn't spend the significant majority of the decade making eren the most empathetic character in the entire series. or let me also pretend that eren killing those human traffickers to save a 9 year old girl from being a child sex slave is somehow evidence/foreshadowing/etc of him eventually growing up to destroy 80% of the planet. like, what? not to mention he even rebuked himself for recklessly killing those two men like that in chapter 17...so am i supposed to ignore that too?? and don't even get me started on the "eren went insane and accidentally caused his mom's death." bro. BRO. i've watched the entirety of game of thrones yet i STILL have never seen this level of "edgy plot twist for shock value with no benefit or relevance to the story whatsoever" in any media to exist.

well anyway...sorry for ranting in your inbox like this LMAO i really just wanted to tell you that i agree with your opinions about both the series ending and the series as a whole. i doubt i'll ever engage with this cursed manga ever again but at least pre-chapter 80 s/n/k will always be a thing and i can pretend they all got reincarnated into a modern AU where eren and mikasa are happily married and living with their bff armin in a nice condo or something. they alternate between visiting carla and grisha or mikasa's family on weekends. yeah that sounds pretty good. if you made it this far then kudos to you and thank you for reading lol

Thanks a ton for the kind words of commiseration. It feels like there’s a plurality of people who are unhappy, sure... but it comes off as still being a minority, and even among that minority, it seems like most people are still fine with most of the timeskip so long as they stuck the landing. But I think they were much too far off-course pretty fast after the Timeskip started to really correct it very well. It was possible, but the writing was on the wall. The intentions were already clear pretty early on after the skip.

That said, I try to keep this Tumblr mostly positive and DR-focused, yet I still absolutely had to rant about SNK 139. The more I thought about it, the more I disliked it... and this comes from someone who was already unhappy for a while, obviously, so. Yeah. Of course I was gonna dislike it on some level, but I thought it’d at least provide closure to the Timeskip arc, even if I do think the Timeskip arc feels at odds with everything else the series was for 3/4 of its run.

And HOLY SHIT I literally forgot about the Eldians’ history of apparently being horrible, vicious rulers of a sinister empire. You know why? Because I NEVER BELIEVED IT. I was so 100% certain that it was going to be outed as bullshit propaganda from Marley that I never once thought it was plausible, so I just... pushed it out of my mind as soon as I read it. After all, all that kind of talk about the arch-conspiracy of Jews has always been total bullshit from anti-semetic monsters, so why would I put any stock in this kind of talk being applied to the Jewish race of Attack on Titan?

But now, at the end of the story... yup, I guess he never DID go back on that! So it was fucking true?! The Jewish people in this WWII analogy were apparently an evil master race at one point?! Oh. OHHHHH. Go fuck yourself with a shovel for that one, Isayama.

And yeah, Eren... god, what a sad story. He becomes unrecognizable as the same character thanks to the Timeskip, the new characterization is never explained or justified retroactively - it’s just opposite day now, forever - and he dies accomplishing nothing. I don’t know what to say, except I do know how much I loved that character and this series before things went south. I didn’t even mind the backstory for the Titans and the horrible story of Eldians in Marley... because it seemed so obvious that it was setting up a battle against a hateful, technologically advanced foe that was beyond the darkness of anything they’d fought before, y’know? Marley, as it was set up in the flashbacks before the Timeskip, is Nazi Germany if the Nazis had tech and scientific horrors and numbers far beyond what the Allies had. And nobody EVER feels bad for killing Nazis, so this was obviously going to be a final battle to destroy the Marleyan military, with Zeke likely to serve as a Final Boss who has totally 100% bought the propaganda and who hated everything Eren stood for. It was all RIGHT THERE. Maybe it was just too easy to tell that story, because instead, Zeke is suddenly supposed to be a gray character (very hard to accept given his backstory), and we end with the “uwu both sides were bad bc war is hell” message that is really pretty fucked up, as you already correctly pointed out.

#snk 139 #aot 139 #snk spoilers #aot spoilers #negativity #snk negativity #aot negativity #snk ending #AOT ending

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angeltannis · 3 years

Text

Iron Boy, Chapter 3: A Quest For Validation

(Ao3 Link)

All the thinking in the world was nothing compared to The Real Deal. Which, that fateful day, came in the form of a companion Moze decided would understand.

FL4K was extremely meticulous with the feeding times for their pets, which meant they were always in the same part of Sanctuary at the same time every day. This day was no different. Several bowls were lined up in a perfect row on the floor of the ship’s central hub, each filled with a different kind of food ranging from pellets to squirming grubs.

If FL4K was surprised to see Moze lingering by those bowls that particular day, they didn’t express such a sentiment. Instead they stomped by her with their usual diligence, followed closely by an array of beasts. “Here you are,” they said in that deep, mechanized voice of theirs, stepping aside to let their pets at their bowls. “Feed.”

“Hey, man–” Moze hesitated as FL4K met her gaze with that single LED eye of theirs. “Uh, I mean...” Speaking in masculine terminology was her go-to for everyone, including herself. FL4K never failed to remind her that they were neither man nor woman, and that her gendered slang made no sense in application. “FL4K. If I were to ask you to do something really weird, and then never, ever talk about it again, would you be down for it?”

“A bizarre request. I cannot commit to a response until I am given more details.”

Double-checking to make sure no one was around, Moze knitted her fingers together. “Would you be willing to call me a ‘he’? Just so I can see how it feels?”

FL4K’s unreadable face was unsettling at the best of times. Now it left her with no idea how they were going to respond.

“Maybe you could just, like...” Her voice faltered, dropping in volume. “’Oh yeah, Moze, he’s a really cool guy. Well not a guy, but like, a cool Vault Hunter. And he’s got lots of style. And the ladies love him. Something like that.”

FL4K stared at her for a long time. Then, in a tone entirely deadpan, they said, “Yes, Moze. He is a really cool guy. Not a guy. A cool Vault Hunter. He has lots of style. And ladies love him.”

Her stomach fluttered again. Wow. “Do you...think that suits me?”

“Humans’ gendered pronouns are largely incomprehensible to me.”

So FL4K could voice Moze’s requested pronouns, but could not weigh in on if they suited her or not. For that, she’d need human input.

Still though, the tingling in her stomach was real. “Huh. Thanks, FL4K.”

“I am uncertain what I actually accomplished, but you’re welcome.”

Humans understood pronouns in a social context. But they could also pass judgment and reject her. Was there a human onboard this ship who could give her an honest opinion without potentially turning her into a social pariah? She was too nervous to talk to Amara about it, and Zane was unreliable at best. Telling Moxxi was as good as telling everyone on the ship, and Ava was way too young to get it.

Wait a minute. There was absolutely a human on board who could give her honest feedback without fear of social rejection.

After gobbling down some skag jerky and downing half a bottle of Rakk ale from the kitchen, Moze dragged her feet to Sanctuary’s upper level.

~~~

In the army, one was taught to keep pace. Keep rank. Fall in line. Movements, words, even thoughts were trained to a rigid rhythm, and to break that rhythm was to risk your entire squad breaking formation in battle, a death sentence.

The way Dr. Tannis moved, talked, and even just existed flew in the face of everything Moze had had drilled into her all those years. She was erratic and chaotic, unpredictable. Her behavior made Moze nervous for just that reason. She preferred conversations where she could be reasonably sure of what the person was going to say next. Talking to Tannis felt like reading dialogue written by a predictive text emulator.

When the infirmary door lifted into the ceiling, Tannis had her back turned. The door opened constantly when people walked by (side effect of the ship being designed by people with no spaceship design experience, to put it politely), so it made sense she might ignore it. But Moze had a feeling the doctor intentionally ignored entrants to her lab, anyway.

As Moze took a few more steps inside, she realized Tannis was talking to herself. No, wait–she was talking to the toothbrush propped in a cup on her desk. Of course.

“No, no, you must have misplaced it. Ava specifically said she would not steal from my lab when I wasn’t around.” After a moment of silence, Tannis whipped her chair over to face the toothbrush. “Well I am more inclined to believe her, considering you lied about putting the toilet paper backwards on the roll. Who does that?!”

“Uh, hey Doc?” Moze was practically on top of her before Tannis finally turned around.

“Oh, hello...you.” Tannis made no attempt to hide her scant recognition of the Vault Hunter who had helped save her life just a few months prior. “Do you require something of me?”

“Yes.” Unlike most everyone else, Tannis actually appreciated and understood the art of getting right to the point. It was just about the only thing the two of them had in common. “I need your opinion about pronouns.”

“Oh, you can use any for me, I don’t care.” With a wave of her hand, she was already turning her chair back around.

“Not for you.” Moze reached out and turned the chair back around. Tannis raised her eyebrows, but did not protest. “For me.”

Tannis’ face scrunched. She briefly–very briefly–met Moze’s eyes. “I do not feel as though that’s something I could make a call on.”

With a sigh, Moze leaned against the desk housing Tannis’ array of illegible papers and empty coffee mugs. “Do you think it’d be weird if I asked people to use he/him for me, even though I don’t think I’m actually, like, a guy? ”

Tannis was eyeing her paperwork. It was clear Moze was little but a distraction to her. “I find it equal parts baffling and amusing that you are asking me to be the judge of ‘weirdness’. How on earth should I know how the slack-jaws aboard this ship will perceive non-traditional relationships to gender? Most of them glaze over upon the use of a word with more than two syllables.”

“’Kay, look. Lemme explain.” Moze held her hands out in emphasis. Tannis’ eyes flicked from the right to the left in turn. “I’m kinda going through a thing here. It’s probably not a big deal, but I wanted to ask somebody who won’t treat me different afterward. I know you pretty much treat everyone with equal...”

“Apathy?” Tannis volunteered. “Disdain?”

“Yeah, those. So that’s why I’m asking you.” Moze drifted her hands down, emphasizing the entirety of herself. “Do you think I’d make a good he/him...whatever I am?”

Tapping her chin, Tannis eventually said, “As surprised as I am by your decision to recruit me as your pronoun advisor, I must admit I am flattered. So I will give you my honest opinion.” Her bright green eyes, so vivid with life and curiosity, searched Moze for another moment. “I was not entirely sure of your gender when I met you. I’m terrible at that sort of thing, anyway, but...”

“Wait. You couldn’t tell I was a woman?”

Tannis shrugged her leather-padded shoulders. “I pay very little attention to gendered markers and such. Or to people in general.”

“So you...” In spite of her bravado, talking about such delicate topics made Moze feel very, very small. “You think people would be cool with calling me a he? It’s kinda weird.”

“I’d certainly call you that. Easier than trying to remember your name.” The accompanying blank stare emphasized Tannis’ point.

Moze stared back. “It’s Moze.”

“Right. Of course.”

As much as the cyclical conversation had largely gone nowhere, it somehow made Moze feel better. At least one person on this ship didn’t give a damn what pronouns she used, and would respect whatever she chose.

“I appreciate this, Doc.” Moze was tempted to give her a good-natured whack on the back like Lorelei had done, but quickly rethought it. “I might change my mind, but, well, I might not.”

Tannis gave a sage nod. “It took me decades to really begin to know my own self. You’re young yet–it’ll come to you in time. And there’s nothing better than embracing yourself and your quirks!” Plucking her toothbrush out of its cup, she said, “Isn’t that right, Greb?”

The surprisingly maternal bit of consolation dismantled the last bits of wall Moze had erected around her vulnerabilities. Biting her lip, she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

“Anytime, Nose!”

She was buried in her paperwork again before Moze could bother to correct her. Apparently that was the end of the conversation. Moze slunk out of the lab, her head filled with more thoughts than ever–but for once, they were not entirely bad.

~~~

What little confidence Moze had worked up talking to FL4K and Tannis was obliterated the moment a certain other Crimson Raider sat down with her at the same dining hall table. Moze froze in place, the greasy meat of her sandwich sliding out onto her plate with a series of plops. She didn’t look up. She didn’t have to. The meticulously-moisturized deep brown arm lined with otherworldly blue tattoos that leaned down onto the table told her everything she needed to know.

“Ugh, greasy meat scraps again? You really need to start eating better.” Amara’s multiple arms set down six plates, filled with probably every food group. “Didn’t they teach you how to take care of yourself in the military?”

Uncertain how to respond, Moze took a big bite of her sandwich and chewed slowly.

Amara started in on the dish nearest to her, a hefty salad. “What’s the matter? Ratch got your tongue?” She laughed that teasing but good-natured chuckle of hers that made Moze’s heart rate increase. “I’m pretty sure they do eat tongues, actually.”

Amara was not someone Moze felt comfortable with. Not because she disliked her–in fact, it was entirely the opposite. She made Moze sweat a whole lot more than usual, and say things even dumber than usual.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Moze attempted a laugh as boisterous as Amara’s. Her laugh was so small and thin compared to Amara’s deep, rich voice. “Sorry, just...really focused on my...sandwich.”

Most of the remaining meat had fallen out. Moze was basically eating grease-soaked bread.

Amara’s gaze flicked from the plate full of sandwich innards to Moze’s rapidly-pinkening cheeks. She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to.

For as boisterous as she could be, Amara kept many of her opinions close to the chest. Moze had literally no idea how she felt about gay stuff or gender stuff. She had no idea whether Amara herself was gay or trans or anything like that, either. Much as she wished she knew what Amara was into.

The tiny bites of bread she took slid down her throat like that deep-fried thresher tentacle she definitely had not grabbed off a food cart at Carnivora that time. Why did this have to be the time Amara suddenly took interest in her? Did she have some magic siren sense that told her when someone around her was in distress?

She wanted so badly to reach out. Amara was the closest thing she’d had to a “gal pal” in, well, ever, really. Is that something we’d still consider ourselves? Or would I have to be something else? Amara’s...bro? That felt weird, but then another thought crept shyly through her mind–she was nowhere near ready for dating, maybe never would be, but if she did...could she call herself someone’s boyfriend? That thought gave her those stomach flutters again. They didn’t feel like food poisoning or gas. They felt like when you managed to dig up a good memory amidst a sea of bad ones.

“I gotta go.” Moze informed Amara of her departure as she was already in the process of departing. Amara simply watched her, a frown on that gorgeous face of hers. Moze had never thought Amara cared–at least, not enough to hide her movie star smile behind a frown of concern. Yet there she was, not a trace of bold, cocky smile to be seen.

She thought about Lorelei’s offer to talk again, and of Tannis’ oddly supportive advice. Maybe more people cared about her than she thought. Maybe she didn’t have to be scared to show her vulnerabilities to the people around her.

Turning back around was about the hardest simple thing she’d ever done. “Okay, actually,” she said, trying for a voice that was strong and devoid of fear, “there is something I wanted to tell you.”

#borderlands #bl3 #moze the gunner #gender dysphoria #he/him lesbian #we're getting there my friends #iron boy

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dr-gloom · 4 years

Text

Some thoughts/analysis on the new episode, because the video itself and people's reactions were bugging me

Disclaimers: I don't hate Patton or Roman, I'm not calling Patton abusive or manipulative, as those terms insinuate knowing what you're doing and I don't think Patton does know how he's coming across

- First I wanna just point out, as a few others have, that Thomas is once again wearing black and white while discussing a grey-area issue. I love the attention to detail

- The recap only really highlights that Thomas admitted to wanting something that contradicted Patton's statement of why he's a good person (or more specifically "perfect", which, as nice and friendly and lovely as that sounds, is a toxic mindset and I like that Thomas touched on that at the end), which is an interesting point to cover honestly, especially since later Thomas challenges Patton to call him a good person

- "Now kiddo, if you're gonna dish out Fs, why don't we make them friendly hugs?" I understand Patton was trying to lighten the mood and joke a little and all that, but he's not letting Thomas just... Be angry/upset. He's trying to control how he feels and steer away from negative emotions, which I thought he learned not to do??

- I love that Patton heard what he was saying and stopped. Good on him. But what he replaced it with is called guilt tripping and that's not much better. "I'm surprised you would say something like that about your friends. I always thought that when it came to your pals, that sort of language would be... Ineffable?" It may sound gentle and sweet, but he's still saying "you can't talk about your friends like that" (and I get it, we all know that's not how Thomas really feels, but again he needs to be allowed to express himself). You can tell from Thomas's face while Patton's talking that the guilt tripping worked, at least for a moment.

- Anyone else notice a little Logan shining through in Thomas's words/actions the first portion of the video?

- "If our goals aligned with his what would that say?" Uhmmm gee lemme think Roman... Maybe that you care about Thomas's mental health and desires???

- I think it's very telling that during the rap Thomas cuts Patton off right before he's about to say something that, judging from the graphics, was going to make him sound heroic and said "I made this choice", while looking very... Upset.

- Okay so when Thomas was all "why didn't I just talk to them???" I felt hella vindicated but the second time I watched I finally heard Roman say "I mean I kinda brought that up before but it got shut down faster than an Antarctic icepop shop". Like... Fuck, they seriously do not appreciate or listen to Roman at all

- Patton brushing them off with "Eh well hindsight is 20/20" pissed me off so much. No empathy whatsoever. Jesus Christ.

- Roman's reaction when Thomas said no to the whole future vision thing made me laugh and no one is talking about it

- But yeah Thomas talking about using foresight has a total Logan Vibe

- Patton's reaction when Thomas says "I made a decision with a blindfold on" is... Interesting...

- Seriously that cat analogy was so specific.....

- One should never base their decisions on "well they've helped me before so I owe them" like. No. Patton, Roman, stop. He should have decided to go because he wanted to, not because he owed it to them or you made him feel like shit

- "Those baby-making Catholics" lmfaooooo

- "You, thinking about giving their wedding a pass all because of a callback that, really, might not work out". That bugged me too, because it can just as easily be argued he gave up his big break for a wedding he barely participated during. If we're being completely logical here (and borrowing from a later concept of how our time is better used), his time would have been better-spent at the callback since he wasn't even mentally present at the wedding

- "Maybe they understand, and maybe they still want you to go to the wedding but feel too guilty to say so. Or, maybe you end up going to the wedding, and they feel guilty seeing you there because they feel like they took a big opportunity away from you". First off, they did (or would have, had the conversation taken place and they insisted he come). Secondly I personally feel like he owed it to them (and yes, I'm aware how that sounds but I can't think of better phrasing) to talk about it with 100% honesty on both sides, because now he's angry that he went to their wedding and they have no idea. Sure, the vid ends with them coming over to catch up, but if it hadn't? That's the kind of shit that festers very easily. I feel like he'd have been more satisfied if he had still decided to go after talking with them. I think Thomas realizes this too when he responds to Roman's question with a very sure, very adamant "No."

- "This was our chance to be there for them when it counted". I know this is me reading into things but it felt like he was saying anything else he may have done for them doesn't matter or isn't good enough

- "Why does their complexion matter" LMFAOOOOOO omg roman

- "... We can all agree that you're a good fellow-" "Can we? All agree on that?" Like fuck, Thomas still isn't sure what Patton thinks of him? That cuts deep. And... Patton still hasn't apologized. He conceeded that he's "been a bit much", which is far from the same thing

- pfffft what the fuck was Roman trying to do???

- "Well that's a relief... I think". Meaning Thomas still isn't fucking sure where Patton stands. I have to admit his dialogue did sound a bit circuitous

- he almost said GameStop lmfao

- why is he fixating so much on frogger

- "At least 16 graphics!" I died laughing

- "By the liquid lipstick of William Shakespeare" wut the fue? Lmao

- "just like you don't have to get him a hotdog" "I feel like you kinda do... Maybe". I know Janus says it later on but he was right when he said peppering in a few "I don't know"s and "maybe"s does not a conversationally-conscious person make. Like, he didn't even add the maybe until Roman reacted negatively to what he was saying

- I'm surprised Logan said it'd be wrong for Thomas to keep his money to himself tbh

- Roman mouthing "behoove". Like, c'mon dude, stop being such a dick to Logan when he's just trying to help

- Logan's so done he's not even trying to hide it. Like you can see the annoyance clear on his little pixelated face

- Also did anyone notice that Logan kept getting cut off so the next time he "spoke" he made them read it aloud so they'd actually fucking listen

- "Yeah! As long as that's not the main reason you're doing it!" Honestly though, most people do good things for their own benefit; tax benefits, That Good Feeling, compliments from others etc. It doesn't diminish the effect of the good act, so who cares?????

- "You shouldn't do a good thing just because it makes you feel good... I-I think." He's trying so hard but he's just not understanding how this works is he. Also it's interesting that he preaches holding to your values and not nitpicking situations yet he's literally doing it right now because last time he just... Needed to counter Janus and couldn't admit he'd had a fair point

- "Deceit said you'd be doing the right thing for a selfish reason if you did it for your own emotional gain". You can tell by his tone he's trying to make Thomas see Deceit as wrong and bad but like literally two seconds later he audibly confirms he feels the same way

"Definitely! Maybe... I think so... What do you think?" Tbh I'm proud of him for asking someone else's opinion, esp cause he's screwing this up so horrendously

- man if Roman being scared to share his opinion after Patton visibly disagrees isn't a huge red flag idk what is

- the world of the video game is called AU I'm screaming

- I'll always be salty that Roman once again shoved a "dark side" into the villain roll without asking

- I don't agree with Patton automatically assuming that just because the hero wants a reward, it means he doesn't care about the people he saves getting it. People can have multiple motives and wanting recognition isn't bad or evil or selfish

- I'm so fucking glad Thomas snapped and asked "am I not allowed to feel good if I do something good" because that's basically what Patton's saying and no one was addressing it. And Patton saying that can't be a valid motive is honestly fucked up

- during the trolley problem the options toggle the most between morality, anxiety, and denial. Idk, it's just interesting

- it's also interesting that Patton views moving the trolley as worse than letting it stay, meaning he thinks small active murder is worse than larger, passive murder. Not bad or good or anything, just interesting

- I hate hate hate that Patton silences Logan when he's the one who asked him to say something, especially since he follows that with "oh you can't really learn good morality from a book hahahaha". Like dude just acknowledge that you don't agree but there are other valid points of view, my god

- also you can tell from the color that Janus totally put that skip button in, meaning Logan really, really wanted to continue but Janus could see it wasn't going to get them where they needed to go

- "stu-ooper dooper unique mustache" lmfaooooo

- Thomas keeps coming back with something along the lines of "I need the answer to X so I can meet your expectations". He even says "I don't understand what I need to change so I can meet your standard". Last time I did a post like this, back when SvS came out, I said Patton has too much sway/control over Thomas, and he still does. Thomas doesn't try nearly as hard to "meet the standards" of his other sides, but in this instance he's desperate to know how he can appease Patton. I don't think that's necessarily a good thing, given that it's likely because he wants Patton to say without hesitation that he's a good person

- Roman thinks he's the problem I wanna cry

- "And I'm an awful driver" I laughed so hard

- "I only mean well when I say that that is the stupidest thing you have ever said" I can't stop laughing XD

- "You're just blowing smoke" seriously someone help me

- Roman's reaction when Thomas says he feels guilty just killed me. They all just acknowledged that Roman is his motivator and Thomas comes out and says his motives make him feel guilty? Ouch

- "Doing nothing is even worse!" Patton honey I'm begging you to please stop talking omg this is going so poorly

- "doing nothing is worse than doing a good thing for the wrong reasons" first off, who's to say what a wrong reason is, and secondly, that's an interesting take from the man who refused to move the trolley 👀

- oooof Thomas's relief when Logan cuts in though

- "Huuuuuhhhh I do need help" fuck, I wanna cry, poor Thomas

- "Logan, like you said this isn't your area of expertise" ITS NOT YOURS EITHER ROMAN OMG

- "Every point you've made in today's discussion has contradicted that sentiment" YES LOGAN JANUS SLAY. Also anyone else notice Patton looking to the others for validation because I Sure Did

- oh man though I thought Logan was finally getting the chance to lay into Patton and take him down a peg and it turned out to be Janus

- "Oh, is it not? Please, correct me if I'm wrong." yeah paTTON CORRECT HIM IF HES WRONG (notice how he doesn't even have an argument to that, all he can say is "you're wrong!")

- honestly the way he goes from 0 to 60 should've tipped us off that that was Janus

- I wanna know if Patton turned into a muscular frog irl

- idk Patton feels like a villain when he's all "Thomas you choose!"

- "What have you done with Logan?!" "Nothing at all and I resent the question" weeeeeelp there goes loceit

- even Janus admits Patton is misleading unintentionally can we all calm down now

- I find it interesting that Thomas willingly stays behind Janus

- "Sure if he's in that kind of situation then of course he should focus on himself. But does he deserve it? I don't know." *Record scratch* excuse me wHAT?????? And like, you can't ignore the obvious symbolism behind that attack missing Janus and hitting Thomas. Thomas is knocked out and Patton just ... Keeps talking? Jesus fucking christ

- and Roman so adamantly attacking Janus has a very pre-AA vibe to it

- "Not that any of you care, but I am unharmed, and I don't want to talk about it." Thomas looks like the only one genuinely concerned when he says this and that hurts

- Janus looks so happy that Logan's backing him I wanna cry my baby aaaaaaa

- SOMEONE FINALLY ACKNOWLEDGED THE CHOICE ROMAN MADE AAAAAAA THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU can we stop acting like Janus is evil now please

- "Well when is it enough?!" ".... Trees?" I'm STILL LAUGHING SOMEONE HELP ME

- I'm so fucking happy Thomas doesn't agree with Roman about trusting Janus

- Roman laughing and saying Janus's name is stupid and Janus's jab about him and Remus just... Gutted me y'all. Thems some hurt boys. And he looks to Thomas and Patton and they just... Can't side with him, cause they know that was hella fucking rude of Roman.

- I genuinely believe that Janus's nod meant Thomas was telling the truth. Based on his facial expression (which was slight but idk I notice more stuff than most people apparently???) He was trying to reassure Roman. And Roman just... Took it the completely wrong way, because he still thinks all Janus does is lie. When Roman says "wow, I can't believe this" you can actually see Janus's smile disappearing, because he realizes Roman took the nod the wrong way

- aaaaand then he immediately goes into attacking Janus. *Sigh*

- "Everything's gonna be okay, kiddo. We love you." "*Scoff* Right." I truly believe the next video is gonna be about Roman, because there's no way in hell they could ignore the obvious hurt and self-deprecation coming off of Roman

- "Janus? Is there a limit to how many times a person can say sorry before you have to admit that they're just bad for you?" Patton was talking about himself. Whether Janus was trying too hard to be witty and missed that or what, his reply hurt Patton, and you can see that Janus realizes his mistake with Patton's reaction. We have to remember that this isn't a side who's used to how the others communicate, though. He doesn't spend time with them outside of the few videos he's shown up in because of how they treat him. It's gonna take him time to get the little things like this and until then there's gonna be a lot of hurt feelings and (hopefully) apologies

- Janus immediately backtracks once he realizes what the real question was and says "... it depends... How many things have they had to apologize for? How frequently do they have to apologize for things? How terrible were the things that they did? One of the biggest factors in my very humble opinion is whether or not they seem to be making an honest effort to do better" this is Janus trying to tell Patton "you aren't bad for Thomas. I see how hard you're trying. It's okay"

- you can totally see Janus realizing why Patton fights him so hard while Patton is explaining how hard shit's gotten as Thomas grows up

- "Janus?" "I'll take care of him" y'all I need the tissues

- Janus trying to lighten the mood with the whole push-someone-down-the-stairs thing just... Made me die laughing. Y'all know he's hella good at April fool's pranks okay? Okay

- "You're not stuck with an evil snake boy, you're just stuck with a snake boy" HES SUCH A DORK I LOVE HIM

- I reacted the exact same way to Thomas saying Janus was right omg

Again, I'm not saying I hate any of the characters, this is just a stream-of-consciousness analysis-and-commentary-type post on the new episode

#sanders sides #ts spoilers

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