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skrunksthatwunk · 2 years

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i think it's so so so funny that my main transmasc hc character literally Is The Way He Is bc he's amab. like hiei's one of approx 3 characters ever whose asab is actually relevant and having it otherwise is impossible in the text. ridiculous.

is what i thought, but it's actually wayy way more complicated than i previously gave it credit for!! plus there's a LOT more queercoding than i first thought. lemme explain:

[tw: eugenics, fascism, queerphobia, self harm, suicide mentions]

[yu yu hakusho spoilers/meant for ppl who've seen yyh but probably understandable to ppl who haven't]

[ft too many uses of the word queercoded and my mushy feelings about hiei's arc and the queer experience]

hiei is literally thrown out of his home as a baby for being born male and that's just INCREDIBLY queercoded on its own, but specifically a lot of this is presented with the fact that he's a fire demon. this could just be a trait he got from his father, or it could be tied to the ice maiden species. i think it's a stretch to say gender/sex present the same across all demonkind, much less that it resembles our own. frankly, binary sexual classification doesn't really work for a lot of species (and it really doesn't work for humans anyway, because intersex people exist). his maleness is associated with it, and this creates a potential sexual dichotomy that, in this species, females present with ice powers and males present with fire powers. (i understand this has a very goofy "girls are cats boy are dogs" energy to it but let's roll with it for now). so hiei could have been born with what humans would consider female sex characteristics, but the ice maidens would look at him and go "oh he's on fire get this little man outta here". (this could also be where the idea that he'll destroy them comes from, if all males are, y'know, melty).

some of my initial thought process on this came about because i figured "oh if they reproduce asexually they've probably got all xx chromosomes, and that's how they only have xy kids when the parent has sex with someone outside the village", but even if that's the case (assuming chromosomes work the same for demons), there's still a ~50/50 chance hiei ended up with xx chromosomes anyway. perhaps fire is considered the primary sex characteristic that determines one's asab in the same way genitalia is for humans. so, to a human audience, we'd see his traits and go "oh he's trans", which i think counts for biological coding.

the ice maiden society is also incredibly restrictive in terms of gender and sexuality. they consist entirely of (ambiguously determined, as discussed above) women who reproduce asexually. one is not allowed to leave the bounds of this society, nor perform sexual taboos, such as sleeping with outsiders. hiei was only born because hina acted outside of the strict sexual norms of this society. people's queerness is sometimes chocked up to "poor parenting" (often based in sexual/gender/religious/otherwise traditional nonconformity) of parents. and even though hina loved her son and didn't want to see him, y'know, thrown off a floating island, the society as a whole still deemed him an outsider and a problem to be eliminated and left him for dead for the greater purity/"protection" of the culture. it's serving fascist eugenics tbh. (and hiei doesn't destroy their culture like they and he had expected, subverting their expectations of him and his "kind", though the idea that that subversion matters more than preventing further harm is one I'd disagree with. the choice to cut them out of his life entirely to me is somewhat more justifiable to me given a familial view over a community/cultural one, but i digress). regardless, this is reminiscent of societal marginalization in general, but especially categories that can show up in isolation in families (i.e. queerness, neurodivergency, disability, etc) in a way that other things (i.e. race, religious affiliation, etc) generally don't, and can thus be painted as rooting out abnormalities or defects in individual, bloodless, mundane cases (as opposed to the broader elimination that we associate with genocide)

there's also yukina, who left to find hiei, and who hates the ice maidens (presumably at least partially because she knows what happened to him). think of this as them trying to find each other after familial fallout.

this is all to say that if we view maleness/fire demonness as an equivalent to genderqueerness in the ice maiden society, hiei's story maps onto queer experiences incredibly well. so he's got that cultural/queer experience coding too.

we also see hiei topless all the time (he's actually incapable of keeping his chest covered. when he doesn't take it off it burns off or whatever like he can't fight covered up. can't even make it through the intro with it covered. whore behavior <3). "but he's got male presenting pecs, so he's amab," you might say. but he is (key to his character and returning home) well acquainted with a plastic surgeon. he literally has a body modification done as part of his backstory (specifically one he had to tell this story to to receive treatment!!!). transcoded asf. and frankly him being topless all the time is very reminiscent of lots of transmasc ppl who've just gotten top surgery. like they paid too much not to show it off. (this was actually the first thing that made me go "omg,, he's trans lmao. that surgeon guy totally gave him a 2 for 1 deal" and then it just. kept piling up. he's also quite short (4'10") and has a relatively high voice (definitely masc, but in a very in-the-throat way that a lot of afab ppl use), but neither of those are that compelling).

he also has a somewhat more flexible view of his body than the others, getting drastic invasive surgery, beating his arm when it disobeyed him(????? ok babe), and willingly sacrificing parts of it to learn fighting techniques (specifically a fire technique, so more gender stuff). this could be tied to genderqueer people's greater willingness/need to change their bodies, or potentially harmful practices (such as improper binding) to alleviate dysphoria.

queerness is featured a few times in the series and implied in others. we encounter a canon transfem demon named miyuki during the yukina rescue arc. karasu and itsuki are both distinctly mlm demons. hiei even acknowledges this in the eng dub, calling itsuki "lover boy" when he's doing his whole "omg sensui,, i want him to be evil so bad he's so hot" speech. the derision in this case seems to come more from hiei's dislike of him/the situation than disgust at itsuki's queerness (or else he could have just called him disgusting or perverse or whatever). kurama also makes a joke near the end of the series implying hiei is interested in him, which hiei refutes by clarifying his intentions, rather than saying smth like "ew nasty I don't swing that way", which is more standard in anime. I'm gonna gesture wildly to mukuro but we'll skip her for now. all this is to say that the only characters we see exhibiting signs of queerness are demons (other than the people we see atsuko hang with for a single shot). this is almost certainly a case of villainous queercoding (a detriment to the series that does rustle my feathers a good bit. the treatment of miyuki in particular makes my blood boil), but we could also read this as demonkind having different understandings of gender and sexuality in general. perhaps the reason we see this queerness in demons is more because the way their bodies work, the ways they present, and the ways they're attracted to others, to us, look queer.

hiei, throughout his backstory, is consistently demonized by the people around him (some of which is deserved bc he keeps killing people, but some isn't, like the thrown-as-an-infant-off-a-cliff thing). and while his arc throughout the show is about him becoming more able to let people into his life, there's always a distance there. he almost always pushes them away. he's always been treated like a monster, so that's all he tries to be, and it's part of his justification for further distance (i.e. using his criminal status as a reason not to "burden" yukina with the knowledge that they're related). for a lot of queer people (especially before the internet and in places without queer spaces like gay bars), you have no way of meeting people you can trust won't hate you for being queer (even queer spaces have transphobes or nb-exclusionists, etc), so you harden yourself and let very few people in. his trauma reads like a lot of queer ones, especially older american ones. this arc culminates with his relationship with mukuro, and his decision to stay with her indefinitely.

firstly, mukuro's referred to as a king and with he/him pronouns by the cast for a while, before it's revealed that she was hiding her true identity as a woman, and the characters' references to her switch to feminine ones. already tripping wires there. and the first time we learn this about her is when mukuro sees hiei's (queercoded) past and goes "you're just like me" and sheds her clothes (mukuro's backstory doesn't feel that queer to me, but she did have to run away from abuse and dehumanization, potentially for her body/the way she was born as well, so it's not insignificant). hiei's unconscious in one of those green anime healing tubes, but their shared nudity (and thus vulnerability) has a very intimate vibe to it. these fundamentally tightly guarded characters are letting each other in a bit in this way, and that backstory/vulnerability being connected with their bodies/genders, especially when you consider all the other queercoding surrounding them, feels very much like queer solidarity. meeting strangers who have been disowned for birth circumstances and immediately sharing your deepest secrets with each other because you feel some deep similarity to them and bonding over that experience (especially when it relates to asab/agab roles) in a way outsiders can't breach is very queer. (note that hiei didn't want mukuro to know his backstory, but was effectively outed, and she came out in kind). and eventually hiei helps her work through that trauma, and she gives him purpose and a home. a found family with a better fit, something more suited to him, than the main cast (as much as I want them to mesh perfectly).

i think part of why hiei is suicidal in the beginning of three kings is because of that distance and isolation. he'd fulfilled his mission of meeting yukina, but resolved not to tell her of their relation. he feels he can't tell her this big secret of his that might change how she views him, or views her home. it's just before the fight where he tries to die that his surgeon's condition that he could never tell her is revealed. the only thing allowing them to meet is keeping that secret, and the bodily change is what causes it. and he says he wouldn't want to tell her anyway. so he has nowhere to go. he doesn't want to destroy humanity anymore (as evidenced by his assistance in the previous arc and destruction of the chapter black tape), he can't get closer to his home or his sister, and there's still that distance between him and everyone else. (in case it needs to be said, all of this is crazy bonkers queercoded). but in the end, after he and mukuro grow together and bond, he tells kurama to tell yukina her brother's dead, to give up hope, to cut himself off permanently. kurama says he won't, because he believes that hiei will return and tell her they're related someday. and hiei begrudgingly agrees. someday he will tell her. when he's ready, and when he feels safe enough to. and from that change in the beginning and end of the arc, we know he's found that safety in mukuro, and may finally begin to really pursue his own happiness and authenticity. because he met someone like him, he now has hope. he can be loved and he can be enough, and he can look forward to it.

so, to sum up, hiei:

1. was disowned as a child for being the wrong/unexpected gender/sex in an incredibly homogenous society (in which it is ambiguous how they classify sex/gender)

2. has a medical and unusually personal history with a magical plastic surgeon and is topless all the time

3. reacts neutrally/without notice to other characters' queerness (when he is rude, it's for other reasons)

4. is a demon, the only group shown to exhibit canon queerness

5. forms a very deep bond with someone over their shared isolating (queercoded) experiences (with persistent body imagery and a social transition on mukuro's part)

basically, he's transcoded <3

#yu yu hakusho #hiei #yyh #yeah it's a long yhh hiei post #one of several to come im sure #trans coding #queer coding #other gender headcanons:#yusuke is agender bc i think his punk vibes would not mesh with gender structures #and also his idc about fighting women thing has a vibe to me #gender? who give a shit #kuwabara's either a trans woman egg or the token cis guy there's no inbetween #kurama's.. something #idk how i feel about him gender-wise but he's pretty gnc in canon anyway #MUKURO/HIEI T4T!!!!!!#LET'S MAKE IT HAPPEN GUYS #summoning all 3 ppl on yyh tumblr #idek if i want mukuro/hiei to be romantic or PEAK gay man/lesbian solidarity but the t4t reading is cute so #does it mean anything that the fire that got him disowned is what reveals his chest? in my mind yeah #also when i say hiei's one of my favorite characters im not lying look at this bs #poorly adjusted behavior on my part #<3 #guys this might be longer than the daigo found family post ndhsjsj #no but i went back and added the hope paragraph and im tearing up thinking about him ugh #hiei my beloved #YES i figured out the keep reading function ohohoho

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mightyflamethrower · 10 months

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Our Three Blind Mice – Victor Davis Hanson’s latest piece

(A dismantling of the poisonous woke ideology)

“Three blind mice. Three blind mice. See how they run. See how they run…” The recent testimonies of the three university presidents (Claudine Gay of Harvard, Sally Kornbluth of MIT, and [soon to be departed?] University of Pennsylvania’s Liz McGill) concerning their inaction about endemic anti-Semitism on their campuses have probably done more damage to higher education than any recent event in memory. (And note there was not a white, male, heterosexual supposed oppressor to be found among the enlightened). We know they know they failed because two at least clumsily tried damage repair over the next few days that only confirmed their initial stupidity. And a herd of other scared university presidents suddenly have now issued their own memoranda professing their supposed zero tolerance politics for anti-Semitism on campus.

Still, do not believe that any are too sincere given they remain for now still more afraid of their DEI/woke/hard left faculty and students than they are of alumni, donors, or us the taxpayers. But note the following: 1) The three blind mice could not even lie well. Like nearly all contemporary university presidents, they have long revoked admissions, suspended students, or relieved faculty from teaching for any language, expression, or advocacy they considered incorrect, which translates as anything not compatible with wokism or DEI. Invoking ‘freedom of speech’ to disguise their moral cowardice is pathetic when they have never on their campuses believed in freedom of speech. One incorrect word about someone trans, a misplaced pronoun, or a clumsy reference to a non-white student, and the offender would be punished immediately—followed by the usual performance-art, virtue-signaling, “this is not who we are”/“there is no place for such hatred on this campus” memo from a careerist dean or bully provost. Instead, they have excused their censorship by arguing that in their campus enclaves, as in a corporation, they have the right to set their own codes of behavior—without taxpayers subsidies. But the issue is not so much “free speech”, but the equal application of rules and laws.

Continued below the clip

These presidents adhere to systemic prejudice, in which free speech and rules of behavior are predicated on ideology as well as race and ethnicity. Worse still, they cloak such neanderthal reactionaryism in gobbledygook progressive platitudes. In their ridiculous white-oppressor/non-, white-oppressed reductionist world, advocating the destruction of Israel, and the Jewish people with it, is no big deal. Indeed, it pays dividends among their DEI and foreign student constituencies. So they are upset not that they have de facto institutionalized anti-Semitism to such a degree that it is now inviting physical assaults on their own students, but that they have been caught and called out on it. Bottom line: the nation learned that these people don’t care about their own campuses cheering on mass rape, mutilation, and beheading or calling for the extinction of Israel and all the Jews in it, because Jews as whites are on the wrong side of their victim/victimizer DEI binary, and suffer the additional wage of anti-Semitism.

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There is no career upside in their twisted worlds in defending Jews in Israel—or anywhere—from precivilizational barbarism. 2) All of these elite university presidents supposedly were once top scholars, seasoned faculty, and experienced deans and provosts. In other words, they are the purported best and brightest of what academia now has to offer us. And it turns out to be not much at all. Note in minutes they were utterly eviscerated by Republican congressional representatives with no such academic credentials, but with plenty of intelligence, logic, street smarts and common sense acquired from politics or business or non-academic experience. When the president of Harvard or MIT is rendered a moral pygmy and intellectual lightweight by our local congressional representatives, it warns us of what higher education has become and perhaps reminds why academics should be kept as far away from governance as possible. (Professors—e.g., a Woodrow Wilson or Barack Obama—usually have proved poor if not dangerous presidents). After such skilled grilling, we owe a great deal of respect for the abilities and moral sense of these Republican House members. 3) The only reason the three showed any remorse or the next day tried to reset, was transitory fear of financial consequences, as in being blamed for a temporary drop-off in donations.

But that reality underscores that we the people do have power over even our elite and private universities and can rescue them from themselves, if we understand that those who feign a supposed disdain for money are the most eager to acquire it, as we saw with the Bankman-Fried trio. In other words, the taxpayer can reign in a Harvard or MIT—should the U.S. government condition billions of dollars in annual subsidies to campuses on non-discriminatory policies, reconsider tax-exemptions for university giving, tax their endowment income until higher education is truly disinterested and non-partisan, and remove the government from the $2 trillion student loan racket that ensures tuition inflation, administrative bloat, and generations of youth suffering from arrested development. – Victor Davis Hanson

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comfortable-floof · 2 years

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I wonder if the fact that I kind of, withhold happiness from myself in so many aspects in life even to the point of the little things like the fact that I prefer he/they to she/her, that it bleeds into transphobia and general hatred in the way I see other people because,

I do actually notice I get irrationally annoyed when people correct me on the pronoun usage when referring to other people, in the "If I have to deal with this shit one mistake shouldn't warrant this kind of bitching, urgh." and... I really fucking hate that??? Like that initial thought is so nasty and unkind and, I don't want that to be me. I don't want to let my experiences of bigotry from other people shape me into a nasty person. I'm scared that it will. this is me being uncomfortably honest with myself, I think the fact that I tolerate so much stepping over of me, that especially to other enbies, I tend to me so much more nastier in my own head because it feels unfair that I (even though this is kind of self inflicted) never get acceptance so why should I hand it to others?

I feel like, even on the level of just for other people, my denial of the self isn't healthy. it's made me act and feel so much more nastier and I hate it. I think I might go ask a couple more friends to refrain from she/her and feminine coded language and lean more towards masc/neutral ones.

I'm also just really, really, really afraid, because the way I generally am and the things I enjoy are all fem coded, and there's a fair chunk of internalised misogyny here too, I feel like I don't '''deserve''' to be seen as an enby. like the things like fashion, makeup, etc. are all gender neutral, and I believe that, but I don't get why I feel like since I'm AFAB, me liking makeup and fashion makes me inherently more 'woman' than anything else but if someone who is AMAB likes the same, they don't have that, almost corrupting connotation. I mean it makes sense why I'm so, like built-in terrified, I literally live in a place where I am in a lot of potential danger if not at the least ridicule if the wrong person found out. And my gender expression is far outside the binary which, the majority of people who don't understand, and a lot of times even if they are queer they still don't understand. I constantly joke about being 'still cis tho', and I think it's a big chunk of self hatred and internalised transphobia because I reaaally do not want to admit who I am to myself. I don't want me to be happy. With obvious regards to safety, I want to be more brave. Honest to fuck I don't want to be friends with people I'm not comfortable disclosing my gender identity to, because I would never tolerate that kind of treatment for my other trans friends, like no person is a friend of mine if they would discriminate against my other friends. and goddamnit I need to stand for that. Today I woke up less depressed than I have in a while, and it does feel a little bit like opening the window and curtains to let a bit of sunshine in after I've been in depression cave for a while, and it feels good. I have clarity again and in a way, I can breathe again. and I'm willing to be kind to myself again. I have this dream, sort of, or well since I'm very very very stuck in my living situation which is, less than fun and very much not the indie coming of age movie with girl in red-esque music playing in the background with orange glowing streetlights casting a soft hue on two teenagers (one being me) talking about life and shit and being profound or whatever like since none of that is happening right now I spend a lot of my time imagining scenes like that... I have this dream of going to a pride parade with all of my queer friends, the funny gay people in my phone and some of the, albeit very very few but still, ones I've met in real life,I have a binder on and no one is judging me, I'm probably wearing an unbuttoned button up over it, and a pretty skirt, I've grown out my hair super long and I don't give a fuck what other people say about it, and I've braided yellow, white, black, and purple ribbons into both of them, wednesday addams style but waaayy longer, I'm talking hip length braids- and we're screaming lyrics to queer af songs and my stomach hurts like I've done ab exercises for a millenia straight because I'm laughing that hard, and my face and jaw is equally sore from smiling.

I'm, really, really, fucking depressed and suicidal a lot of the time but, I hope I get to live out the scenes in my head at least once, and at least a few of them, and that I finally think to myself:

"I'm. Fucking. Alive."

And there's the unspoken sentence of:

"And this feels fucking euphoric, and this is what living is, it wasn't the miserable, bleak, lie my depression tells me, nor what my tormenters prophesised, life is cackling with my friends until my stomach hurts, life is cuddles with the ones I love, life is reading good books when it's raining outside, life is worth it."

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vaspider · 3 years

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'only tenet of TERFism is transmisogyny' EXCUSE ME NO ITS ALL TRANS PEOPLE. They don't want any trans person to exist. What the hell.

Some people just gotta center their own suffering always, even when they're hurting other people by doing so. I've seen this a lot in younger queer folx of all stripes, this need to be the one that hurts the most, you know?

There's a reason the phrase Oppression Olympics exists, and it's because it's a common behavior or phenomenon in oppressed communities. I see it in the disability community, too.

What I think is important to understand when we talk about how trans people suffer under transphobia is that different groups are targeted differently. I'm not the first person to say this, of course.

Now, like, this is very rough sketchy stuff, and each person's individual experiences will vary, but in my general experience, the rough breakdown of the way in which transphobia lands on trans people kind of breaks down like this:

Binary trans women tend to suffer under a lens of hypervisibility. Everything they do is seen, analyzed, and torn apart. Their struggles are generally the ones centered in the arguments of allies, "allies," and transphobes. Even when trans women are the focus of helpful attention, that hypervisibility can cause exhaustion, because they need to perform perform perform, and be perfect, all the time. It's hard for trans women to just be without feeling like they're on camera, all the time. A lot of the time, they are on camera, because trans women's bodily autonomy and right to privacy are just never respected by transphobes (and often by supposed "allies" who feel free to ask the most invasive questions and get upset when trans women won't answer them), and even if they're not literally on camera, they're supposed to perform as the best examples of transfemininity, because if they don't, then they become the next 'look at this bad trans, all trans are this bad trans' example that TERFs point at and use as a broad brush to paint all trans women. If they're not perfect all the time and have a day where they snap at someone while someone is recording, or make a mistake, or anything, it has a horrible tendency to go viral. You can think of at least three instances right now off the top of your head, right? Right.

Binary trans men tend to suffer from hyperinvisibility. This comes from inside and outside the community -- a lot of trans men talk about being told they can't lead in community because they've 'got male privilege,' that their struggles are discarded, that they're talked over and unable to discuss the things they face, which means they don't get the support they need. Now, there are TERFs and transphobes who absolutely do focus their attention on trans men to the exclusion of or to the deprioritization of the oppression of trans women -- that's where we get Tavistock and Irreversible Damage and Fourth Wave Now and all the other bullshit which focuses on the idea that trans men are "transing the gay away," specifically "transing our butch lesbians" and "stealing butches." But again, generally speaking, trans men face harmful levels of invisibility where trans women face harmful levels of visibility. That's why transmascs in general have issues like lack of understanding even by supposedly trans-competent doctors as to how HRT affects our bodies, why trans men (and transmascs in general) report things like transphobes attacking them with transmisogynistic comments and assuming that every trans person online is a trans woman, etc.

Non-binary (here used as an umbrella term for all identities outside of binary man/woman, to include agender, genderfluid, non-binary, and infinite other identities) AFAB people tend to suffer from a different, very specific form of hypervisibility, unless they start to appear too masculine, and then they slip into hyperinvisibility. This is where we get things like "women and non-binary people" that codes all non-binary people as "AFAB people I can sort of squint and view as women," and people who fall into this category tend to get a lot of attention, a lot of derision from all sides of the spectrum. This is the "blue-haired tenderqueer" sneering that we get from both within and without the queer community, where there's an assumption that these people are just cosplaying an identity, that they're not really trans, etc. Having been in the visibility category and slipped into the invisibility category within the last, oh, year or so, and having two binary trans women in my family to compare notes with, the experiences are unnervingly similar. The difference between the experience that those women have had and the experience that I have had is that according to transphobes, I'm a traitor to my womanhood and performing femininity wrong and taking on a fake identity to escape female oppression because I'm not strong enough to bear up under it, but too cowardly to become a trans man, or... something, whereas they're taking on a fake identity to sneak into women's spaces because they're perverts.

Non-binary (umbrella identity etc) AMAB people tend to suffer from their own very specific form of hyperinvisibility, unless they start to present "too feminine", and then they slip into the hypervisibility which affects binary trans women, but with a little different fuckery in which everyone just assumes they're a trans woman, and therefore they get misgendered by everyone across the spectrum of queer/non-queer/etc. Non-binary AMAB people are generally treated like they don't exist, and when they are spoken about, are often discussed in the context of 'they should just admit they're trans women or gay men,' or if they present 'too feminine,' are subjected to the same sort of horrific attention that trans women get.

Again, a lot of this is very simplistic, and doesn't add in a lot of other complicating factors like race, disability, class, etc. Trans men of color, for example, can run into a different sort of hypervisibility because as they move further through their transition, they begin to be seen in the world as a man of color. It's not really mine to speak on beyond that, but I don't want to neglect saying 'this is really really simplistic and there's more to it than that' over and over.

I really hate breaking it down this simply because it feels like creating another binary (our society does like a binary!) for non-binary people, but like, I can't really talk about my shared experiences with other trans people without putting some framework around it. Someday, I'll be able to do that without categories. Wouldn't that be awesome?

I think we do our entire community a huge disservice when we talk about transphobia as if it's a single snake trying to take bites out of only one part of the community, and not a many-headed hydra, able to attack us from multiple different directions. I also think that focusing on one form of oppression keeps us from forming meaningful solidary and coalitions; the more divided we are, the easier it is for the people who literally want us all to stop existing to pick us off one by one. We see this all across the queer community and it's only ramping up as the attacks on our community escalate from without; people tend to turn on the ones closest to them when they get really scared, and to blame the person standing next to them for the pain they're suffering. It's the "close enough to hit" phenomenon, and it's why we see ridiculous things like "bi women make cis men think that lesbians can be won over," rather than acknowledging that bi women aren't the ones causing that: cis men are the ones causing that. The bi women in that case are close enough to hit. Transmascs are close enough to hit. Trans women are close enough to blame for the problems of transmascs, which makes it possible for TERFs to lure transmascs in and attempt to detransition them, subjecting them to gaslighting and manipulation and then using them as sock puppets.

TERFs do focus a lot on transmisogyny. They focus a lot on transmisandry, too. Debating which one is more prevalent and 'worse' not only misses the point, because transmascs and transfems face very different and totally rotten attention from cis society as a whole, including cis queers. We need to like, not do that anymore: we need to give each other the space to talk about our unique circumstances, but we also need to work harder on looking at each other through a lens of solidarity and trying to see that our struggles are different but not unrelated, and that if we keep downing on each other like this, we're not going to get anywhere except in a much more difficult situation as the people who don't want any of us to exist keep picking us off.

#transmisogyny #transphobia #transmisandry #queer issues #trans issues #long post

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subtle-edge-of-rot · 2 years

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Work Guy Updates:

OMG I AM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH AND SO EXCITED FOR TOMORROW FR

Today was SUPER great!! When he got to work he was so bubbly and chatty, we spent a truck ride shit talking one of the other co-workers, and then it got on the subject of my brothers and I told him some stories of my little brother that had him SNORTING- he was laughing so much he snorted and it was so cute, I was laughing so hard I could barely finish my story 😭 But when he laughs it's fr so cute? He like snorts and holds his hand up and kind of pushes the back of his hand to his nose. He was driving so I was looking at his side profile and it was dksgjhksjdgh I have never wanted to make someone laugh more in my life fr 😤😤

Then I mentioned Rick and Morty(because I LOVE RaM) AND HE LOVES RICK AND MORTY??? AND HIS FAVORITE EPISODE IS THE PICKLE RICK EPISODE AND I FIND THAT SO HOT BECAUSE IT'S SO POPULAR BUT HE ISN'T AFRAID TO SAY THAT IT'S HIS FAVORITE????

AND THEN I MENTIONED FUTURAMA, ANOTHER FAVORITE

AND HE LOVES IT TOO??? HE IS CURRENTLY REWATCHING IT RN AND I JUST AHHHHHH

I told him how my dad almost got Bender from Futurama tattooed on his ass and I was all "Imagine if you were with someone, and you just see Bender on their ass... I'd be the one to ask if I scanned it if there would be binary code in the tattoo." AND HE LAUGHED SO HARD AT IT AND WE JOKED ABOUT THAT FOR LIKE 5 MINUTES

And then when we got out to walk to where we had to move posts he forgot how tall he was and walked straight into a tree branch and literally poked his eye 💀 He fell backwards and like just laid there and I asked if he was okay and he goes "Yeah, just being attacked by nature, the norm." And I giggled because fr he was so goofy today, I loved it. I helped him up of course, can't just leave him there 💀

When we were moving posts they were literally cut up telephone poles, so they were heavy suns'a'bitches. And he told me that if I am ever working alone and I can't lift or move something myself to wait until he or one of the other guys are there because he doesn't want me hurting myself 😭

But when we were moving them I ask a different guy to pull it towards him while I pushed it because it was stuck on the trailer. Well he thought I said to roll it and he rolled it onto my hand. Work Guy FREAKED out and was asking if I was okay. The other guy kind of freaked out as well since he felt bad 💀😭

I felt bad though because the posts were heavy for me and two of the other guys, but Work Guy was lifting them by himself, and we were all trying to help but he was rolling them and FUCK he's so stronk, I want to kiss his arms smh

But then back in the truck we started talking about Bug Juice??? Idk if any of you have had it or if that's just a thing in my area, but it's typically a kids drink. Well the stores in the town that he lives in/we work in, they don't sell it. BUT the town that I live in (half an hour from work) has a gas station that sells them! So I picked up two so we can drink them while we work tomorrow 😌 today was so fun, he was so goofy.

He also told me a lot of stories about his family and his hunting experiences and ugh, today was very progressive. I am very excited for the next few weeks since we'll both be out of school and we might have the time to hang out if he wants to!

He did say he only really likes the Original Trilogy of Star Wars, and that he doesn't like Empire Strikes Back, and I kind of like ESB so I was all 🕴 He said he didn't like the Prequels and I was all "Well, Attack of The Clones is one of my favorites, mostly because of General Grievous and the Clones, but it's really good in my opinion." AND HE CHANGED HIS COMMENT TO "Well, Attack of The Clones is probably one of the better Prequel ones." Like mhm, sure 🤨🤨🤨

Omg this is a big update!!! So happy for you Ori! This guy sounds ridiculously cute!

Stronk you say? Love that. Smooch those arms if you get a chance.

You got him Bug Juice? Omg he better fall in love with you. I’d give myself to anyone who gave me Bug Juice.

I really hope you guys get the chance to hang out outside of work! You guys have great banter so I can’t wait to see where it goes if you hang out outside of work.

#payton’s asks #frenziedslashers #work guy update

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 5 years

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When Amazon's version of Good Omens was first unleashed on the masses, a Christian group in America asked thousands of followers to petition Netflix and ask them to cancel the show. Netflix, not Amazon...

Clearly, Return to Order made a mistake of biblical proportions, and we're not just talking about the target of their wrath either.

Listed among their many objections was the show's portrayal of the first humans and the fact that God is voiced by a woman. Funnily enough though, one of the biggest mistakes the group make in this long list of ridiculous statements is their claim that the "angel and demon are good friends".

If the friendship between Aziraphale and Crowley upset them this much, just imagine what they'd think if they realised Good Omens is actually a "love story", as defined by Neil Gaiman himself.

Fans have been shipping the "Ineffable Husbands" ever since Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's book was first published back in 1990. Throughout its six-episode runtime, the show expands on this even further through the chemistry shared by its two leads, Michael Sheen and David Tennant.

Tender moments such as when Aziraphale covers Crowley with one of his wings have led to copious amounts of fan fiction which portray them both as a couple. Sister Mary and even a random passerby make similar assumptions about them at various points on the show. However, attempts to label their relationship as canonically queer are more difficult than they might initially seem.

When asked directly if Crowley and Aziraphale are in a gay relationship together, Gaiman told a fan online that, "They're an angel and a demon, not male humans."

At first, that might seem like a cop-out. After all, the pair are depicted as male, even if they're not in the human sense, and queer baiting is a real issue. Certain scenes in Good Omens certainly read as flirty, and far too often, the LGBTQ+ community are forced to read between the lines or label characters themselves in the absence of overt and meaningful representation.

During a recent interview, we asked Gaiman if he'd considered making this "love story" explicit or more concrete on screen to rectify that. Surely, this would have been the perfect opportunity to canonise these elements of the original text while updating it for modern times?

Gaiman said no, not really, referring back to a line in the book which says, "Angels are sexless unless they specifically make an effort."

He went on to say, "I like the idea that we know Crowley and Aziraphale don't really... these are two ethereal and occult beings who aren't really quite clear on what mammals are about, even. I don't really think that they've sussed complicated human things like gender."

On the one hand, it's easy to see why some fans have interpreted comments like this as an excuse designed to deflect criticism and avoid featuring actual queer characters in the text. However, this particular situation is actually more complicated.

In recent years, a surprising number of authors and screenwriters have declared that their characters are canonically queer, even when there's no mention of it in the original text. JK Rowling is a key offender here, regularly announcing that her books are more diverse than they actually are in a patronising bid to appease the LGBTQ+ community.

Crowley and Aziraphale are more obviously queer than most of these characters who were retroactively altered post-release. Sheen's character in particular is coded with elements of the Victorian Dandy lifestyle which acted as a clear precursor to modern queerness in both fashion and outlook. Still, confirming a sexual relationship between the pair on screen would ultimately rewrite what's considered canon in the book.

That's not to say the pair don't love each other. Gaiman has confirmed more than once that Crowley and Aziraphale are in love, but labels like gay, bi or even pansexual don't quite fit in this instance.

In our interview, Gaiman clarified that their story arc in the show uses "all of the beats of a love story" to make it "purer and more fun".

"Watching them meet, watching the relationship grow, watching the ups and downs of it, watching the huge breakup in the bandstand in episode three, and then watching what happens to them after that."

The idea is that Crowley and Aziraphale don't have sexual desires in the same way humans do because they weren't created for reproductive purposes. Therefore, their love is portrayed as strictly platonic.

Understandably, a number of queer fans have taken offence at this, seeing Gaiman's treatment of these characters as erasure, but comments the author made during a recent Twitter exchange flip that idea on its head entirely.

By saying he "wouldn't exclude the ideas that they are ace [asexual], or aromantic, or trans," Gaiman is actually suggesting that Crowley and Aziraphale could represent areas of sexuality that are all too often ignored both outside and also within the LGBTQ+ community.

Even acknowledging that the ace spectrum exists is rare indeed, and comments from Twitter users below this exchange highlight just how validating this can be. Platonic love can be just as deep as romantic love, so why does sexual desire need to be used as proof that love each other?

Asexual relationships are almost non-existent on screen, so the idea that Crowley and Aziraphale could represent this spectrum is actually far more groundbreaking than people often give Good Omens credit for.

Of course, labels are hugely important and the fight to see them used in this particular context is understandable. However, if Gaiman ever did decide to define the central love story as gay or trans or ace, then that would also trample over other readings which actually mean a lot to more marginalised members of the queer community.

At its heart, Good Omens is all about dismantling binary notions of morality and gender, and however you might want to label them personally, Gaiman has always maintained that Crowley and Aziraphale are in love, no matter what form that might take.

Both the book and the show are undeniably queer in this respect, whichever way you look at it, so this might be the rare instance where it's better to not define what this queerness might entail and instead just celebrate our "heroes" for what they are. Ineffable and in love.

#good omens #neil gaiman #interview #ace omens

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spectrumed · 3 years

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8. book

I decided to start writing a book. A novel, it’s going to be fiction. It’s a big project. I dread big projects. I don’t feel as if I am ever able to complete them. It’s going to be left unfinished, why do I even bother? So many projects that I’ve started and never finished. I get an idea, then I can’t make myself do the actual work to make it a reality. Why do I think I can write a book when I can barely read books without becoming distracted and doing something else instead? I give up too easily. But, then again, do I really have it in me to produce something that is good? That people would want to read? Insecurity creeps in, telling me that I will fail. I fear failure. Of course I do, who doesn’t? Whenever people say that their greatest fear is failure, all I wonder is who out there is not afraid of failure? Is there someone out there with so much confidence that they absolutely do not in any way fear failure? Even narcissists technically fear failure, it is what leads them to such ridiculous overcompensation, putting on the facade of bravado to mask their actual dire sense of insecurity. Do not fall for the scams, no person is truly without self-doubt. (Well, I guess maybe psychopaths, but there’s a whole lot of things amiss with them.)

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve entertained myself by coming up with stories, fictional universes that I would populate with characters of my own invention. When I was a kid, what I really wanted was to become a comic book writer and artist. Well, in between other gigs I imagined would suit me, including at one point wanting to be a “singing farmer,” as I put it. Still, I’ve always returned to fiction and storytelling. There’s something about creating a world that lets you so fully distract yourself from all the stressful daily hullabaloo that goes on around you. Escapism, it’s fun, it’s therapeutic, I think. There’s a reason why humans have been telling each other stories for millennia, since even before we lived in houses. Back when we were all huddled around the fire, wearing our best comfortable animal furs, sharing tales of the hunt. Your uncle who once took part in killing a mammoth, the impressive beast nearly gorging him with its big tusks. How clever he was when he noticed that the mammoth had one leg weaker than the others, and used that to his advantage. How the entire hunting party banded together to bring the behemoth down, getting all that meat to feed their families with for months! Stories make you feel good. Like as if you have something to celebrate, even when you might be starving due to the more recent hunts not having gone as well. Damn that saber-tooth tiger that killed your uncle…

Storytelling is linked to acting. Both with acting and with storytelling you have to commit. Whatever you are doing, whatever role you are performing, you have to sell it. You may be on stage talking about that time you went scuba diving with your future wife, and how you encountered an oyster with the most magnificent pearl inside, and how you made a ring for the pearl and used it when you proposed to her. You have to sell it. You have to get the audience laughing, gasping, crying, going “aww,” feeling as if they were there with you that day. Of course, they don’t know it is all just lies. You made it up. It’s all fiction. But you committed, so they won’t ever know. Storytelling is a gift to others, people will appreciate you if you tell good stories, but you’re also kinda deviant. Even if it’s technically based on a true story, you’ve certainly added your embellishments. You’re a trickster, a devious individual. No wonder actors have historically been seen as dubious folks. They come into town, romances all the young women and men, telling them big tales of their lives on the road, and they can’t possibly know if you are telling the truth or not. You may just be lying. You probably are lying. Let’s be honest, you’ve probably not told a single true thing in your life.

I am bad at the hustle. No, I can talk quite well, and I can keep people’s attention for a long while. But I can’t be a huckster. Going out there, putting myself on the line hoping people will swallow my bullshit. I can’t really avoid speaking from my heart when I do speak. Or when I write, as I happen to be doing now. This blog has so far been thoroughly candid in places, in such a way I may come across like I’m at a confessional. Not that I have much evil to confess, but I can’t help but be transparent. I can’t flip into different kinds of personalities, each with its own schemes and plots, being some master manipulator, someone who you can never figure out what they're truly up to, or what they truly want. No, what I am is clearly written on my face. I’ve got one self, and it is the one before you. He’s hairy, and tall, and a bit of a dork. I am happy to talk to you, to engage with you, but I won’t be anyone but myself. I am me. I hope that’ll do.

Of course you are familiar with all those pick-up artists that plagues the internet. Or well, not just the internet. Go into any old-fashioned bookstore (where they store books on paper, not in digital code,) and you are bound to find some sleazy book written by a sleazy guy about how to sleazily seduce women. Those books don’t want you acting like me. According to them, seduction is all about manipulation. To figure out the very right thing to say to get women to fawn all over you. They don’t want you to be sincere, telling the truth as you see it. Nah, you gotta keep that stuff bottled up, deep down inside your soul, because most likely, your true self is ugly. It’s interesting how you can get little details from these pick-up artists depending on the sort of things they say, the tips they provide. The fact that all of them seem to harbour this festering misogyny is no big surprise, but every so often, you get these little glimpses of these people’s true worldview, one where power is everything, true love is a fallacy, and happiness is a lie manufactured by Hollywood to make us all into docile consumers. No wonder the “red-pill” so often leads to people taking the “black-pill.” First hucksters will lure you in, telling you that they’ve got the secret as to how to be a success, then when they’ve got you isolated, they reveal to you how truly misanthropic and bleak their actual beliefs are.

I am fascinated with cults, for much of the same reason why I am fascinated with storytelling. What is a cult leader if not just a great storyteller? They’re something like the modern day shaman, capable of spellbinding people with their weird idiosyncratic way of speaking. High-functioning people with autism are often said to have an idiosyncratic way of speaking. No, I am not suggesting that cult leaders are all somewhere on the spectrum, though it wouldn’t surprise me if some famous cult leaders did turn out to have been on the spectrum. However, for an autistic person to become a cult leader, I think they would have to be a true believer, and not some fraud just looking to scam others. Ultimately, no autistic person would want to surround themselves with people unless they truly do believe it is essential, to like, save mankind from damnation or something. It’s the difference between sincerity and insincerity. It is difficult for autistic people to be insincere, as insincerity requires a lot of social skills that autistic people struggle with. Having to juggle all these balls in the air, making sure you keep the big lie going, that you remember to change your behaviour depending on who you are speaking to in order to keep them from figuring out that you’re a bullshitter. Hollow people are great at being insincere. People like L. Ron Hubbard, the founder of the highly profitable cult that is Scientology, was at his core a hollow individual. He had no problems twisting the minds of the people around him, because he never felt a need to be sincere. If an autistic person were to become a cult leader, I can guarantee you that it wouldn’t be a profitable cult. Nah, autistic people aren’t in it for the money, we’re all about keeping it real.

Being a sincere person, surely I should be able to write a novel and make it feel earnest. Like it was delivered with passion, because I wouldn’t be able to write anything that wasn’t true to myself. Well, I do hope so. Having something I’ve made be referred to as genuine is something I see as a great compliment. I’m a student of art history, I’ve made some “serious” art before, I know how terrible art can be when it is not delivered with good faith. Sure, some art is cynical, or ironic, but even then, it tends to come from a real place. Good artists, even when they’re fully armed with the dada mindset, must believe in what they are doing. Whether they are doing it for a laugh or not, that’s irrelevant. Even if all you wish is to be silly and make something that is comical, you have to believe in what you are creating. Or else people won’t bother engaging with it. Why look at a painting by someone who is just interested in making money? Insincere artists do exist, and they can end up becoming quite successful, but ultimately, history won’t be kind to them. Damien Hirst comes to mind, heard he's into NFTs now.

Sure, I don’t like insincere people. Does that make me a bigot? Like, it’s not as if they can help themselves. It’s just who they are, spineless maggots with no soul. It doesn’t mean we have to hate them. No, no, no... I am just generalising. Don’t go thinking there’s just two kinds of people in the world, the sincere and the insincere. It’s not a binary. Most people are both, just like with introverts and extroverts, humans are complex. But there are definitely those that decide to feed into their insincere side, realising that it is often the key to success. Through insincerity, you learn to let go of self-doubt, you stop worrying so much about what others think of you, because you are never truly yourself. If they hate you, then so what? They don’t actually hate you, they just hate a role that you are playing. So what if you seduced that woman, made her feel as if you were the perfect match, then you ghosted her and completely forgot about her? It’s her fault for falling for your tricks. You were clearly just playing the game, being a super-seducer, she should have known better. By embracing insincerity, it’s like gaining a superpower. No longer do you have to care about the impact you have on others, no longer do you have to worry about what it means to be a social human being making choices that affect the others around you. Because you’re not the person they think you are. Actually, you’re not quite sure you’re the person you think you are… Who are you?

I’ve got the plot all laid out in my head for the novel. It’s going to be based in the fantasy world that I’ve been working on for the last few years. I’ve been working on this world for almost half a decade now, come to think of it. Why do I keep feeling as if I am never able to keep to a project, when I’ve clearly been working on a massive project all this time? Sure, it’s all just in my head, but it’s not as if most people have the kind of patience to keep going back to a single big project, even if it is just in their head. Not once, while thinking about my fantasy world have I been distracted and started thinking about cute puppies, instead. And you know how difficult that is. Maybe I am too hard on myself. Maybe I will finish this book, and maybe people will want to read it. Maybe it will even get a minimal number of angry reviews, like, I may get a book published without some folks trying to harass me into committing suicide for daring to think I can write. Some people may even be enthusiastic, blowing up my ego with great praise. Maybe someone will come along and tell me that they want to buy the rights to make my book into a movie or a television series. Maybe I will get rich? Maybe I will get famous! Woo! Success here I come!

Well, no, here I go being insincere. That’s not what it’s about. I should be writing this book because I want to write it. Because I want to prove to myself that I am able to write it. Sure, it’s not as if there’s not a little brain goblin inside my mind whispering sweet nothings about how one day I might turn out a real respected author. One with real fans that gets to do big book tours talking about how brilliant I am, how brilliant my work is, and how brilliant things are going for me. I am not going to pretend I don’t have the same aspirations for success that others have. Inside of me you will find the same greedy piglet of an ego hungry for more adoration and more validation that you will find in any person. Humans don’t know when to quit, we always want more. But I am at least safe knowing that I will never debase myself, descending to the same depths as those inhabited by soulless grifters who go through life abusing the trust of others in order to get by. I’m sincere, in the end. I always turn out sincere, in the end. I am a good boy.

And I am also really sexy. I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before on this blog, but I am really, REALLY, sexy. Like, you wouldn’t believe it. Oh, I am so hot. And if you follow and subscribe and hit that bell, I will teach you how you can be just as sexy as I am! And buy my book! And my merch! And my new single! And of course, my new cryptocurrency, by the name of “autism-coin.” It’s going to be a real success on 4chan, let me tell ya!

#neurodivergent #neurodiversity #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

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captain-cerrillo · 3 years

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(its all a set up for smut don't let me deceive you lol)

It was weird to be at the point in his career where he was beginning to spend more time behind a screen than on the ground. Though, it had always been the ultimate goal. The Paladin and the Captain were almost like two different people inside of him. He thought of blue eyes and wondered how many other selves he had tucked away inside.

Eva appeared in his office not nearly as much as he wanted her to but, infinitely more than he had expected. It was a jolt to the heart every time. He wanted to see her forever. He smiled at her expressions as she took in the large glowing datamap projected from the holotable between them.

“Not a scientist.” Isaac huffed a breathy chuckle, gesturing lightly between them. “Just a bit of a nerd.” The corners of his eyes crinkled.

He made a few shorthand gestures to navigate the hundreds of datapoints mapped in a three-dimensional landscape of information. With a thematic swooshing motion, it jumped to a close-up view of a section of ranges in blue. A cluster of particular points made what looked like a mountaintop in the pixelated scenery. Isaac gestured lightly. “Here’s you.”

Eva’s eyes narrowed and she bent to study the chart more closely. Telekinesis, kinetic fields, and spatial distortion - the Alliance’s golden trifecta of biotic classification. “Are we being studied?”

The thought surprised him and he shifted his weight, suddenly unsure. “Honestly? Probably.” He watched the weight of it settle over her, although he got the distinct impression that she was neither surprised or particularly concerned. “Officially, I don’t have any reason to say yes. Unofficially, I know the people that I work with.” He gestured to the map of data in front of him.

"You know.” He glanced to her, hesitating as he considered. “Sometimes the soldiers call biotics wizards and, while maybe insensitive, I'm not sure it's wrong." He gestured again to move the datamap to a wider section.

"This is the little one." In a sea of blue, a line of teal green spikes stood out. Eva looked away from the landscape only to take in the way he put his hands on his hips, brown eyes heavy and far away in thought. "These are just the base readings that the shuttle picked up on our last run.”

Eva watched his face as he studied the mountain of information, wondering what he was looking for. “Isaac.”

His eyes lifted to hers and he didn’t want to talk about the data anymore.

“Here.” He activated his omnitool and Eva watched it glow softly, casting shades of orange across his face as he tapped a quick input and then extended an open hand to her across the table.

Eva returned the motion to let her ‘tool capture whatever he’d transferred, then studied the small display. A line of characters from different languages - common, binary, and foreign all mixed together – danced across the screen.

“What is this?”

“An access code.”

“An access code to?”

“My quarters,” he replied quickly, coolly and confidently, just before he realized, once again and way behind schedule, that normal people would automatically assume that was a sexual proposition. He panicked.

“But not for- To talk!" He blurted, almost sputtering the words before pausing to breathe, allowing himself a heartbeat to collect his thoughts. “I just meant to talk. I just want to talk to you...” He gestured to the sterile, accessible office around them. “…comfortably.”

Eva’s eyes sparkled and Isaac’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. “Only if you want to. Eva, I-”

Eva's mouth had just fallen open to respond when the door behind her slid open. Luca, Davis, and then Harris almost fell through.

"Captain!"

Luca always started with an exclamation so Isaac waited for the spiel, genuinely curious about what could have sent the entertaining trio running to his office. His posture quickly stiffened, brows knitting tightly together when he realized, realistically, what sorts of shenanigans could have sent them running to his office.

"Is this a one or two door problem?" Isaac asked, referencing an old conversation.

(Isaac had pulled Luca aside early on to share a situational assessment technique his mentor had taught him years before – a solid, reliable, and easy way to distinguish true emergencies from the multitudes of mundane would-be stressors that were bound to come up on a spaceship in the middle of a war.)

"Um." Luca shook his hair out of his face as he considered. "Two."

"Okay. Good.” The captain felt genuine relief and his curiosity bubbled. He’d apparently lost every bit of necessary emotional distance, he mused as he watched the trio bumble over themselves and wondered what he was about to agree to.

"What were you- were you busy?" Harris asked – interrupting but, as innocent in intent as she was emotionally intrusive. Her big brown eyes studied Eva, who only stared her down in silence.

Isaac tried not to smile. "Almost always. But how can I help?" His eyes smiled for him.

“Luca tinkered with the projector in the conference room trying to set up a stupid Blasto-fest date night with that Phoe-” Harris’ eyes widened at Isaac as her mouth snapped shut, suddenly remembering all of the times the captain had specifically asked to never hear the word Phoenix in reference to a request.

Luca turned three shades of red and squealed a little, realizing he really needed to get better at learning to hide.

“And he broke it and you need to approve the replacement requisition before the meeting with Captain Sharon from the SSV Belgrade next week,” Ensign Davis chimed in with refreshing practicality, holding her ever-present datapad.

“Hey!” Luca whined. He reminded Isaac of a puppy. “That’s not exactly what-”

“Requisition. On it. Anything else?”

Harris and Luca shared a heavy look that made Isaac furrow his brow. They both looked to Davis who shook her head NO and the pair visibly deflated.

“I don’t even want to know.” He cast a weary glance between them. “Anything else?”

Isaac thought of Marie as he pressed a selection of shining buttons on his shower wall to start the steaming hot stream. He’d always been fond of the Sentinel in an abstract, if not brotherly way, but it was newly heartwarming to see her come into her own as a Commander on the Berlin.

He peeled his crisp blue shirt from his shoulders and tossed it to the corner of the room’s wide bed before working on his belt buckle as he toed off his shoes next to a small closet. While it would have been ridiculous to say that the Captain’s Quarters almost made the whole job worth it, it wasn’t too untrue, he thought with a small smile when he finally slipped under the hot water.

Isaac’s career gave him enough variety that he preferred to keep his personal routines the same. He used the same soap he’d grown up with – handmade with rosemary, black pepper and goat’s milk from a local farmer on Terra Nova – because it smelled like home for as long as the fresh shower scent lasted. It was one of the few things he’d made a point to ask of the Requisitions Officer before disembarking.

The scent carried on the shower’s thick steam air out of the little metal bathroom and into the open space of the bedroom. Eva noticed that first as she stepped across the threshold into a place she probably should not have been. Isaac rounded the little bathroom’s corner and they both froze.

“Is this a bad time? I can go-“

“Maybe… don’t?” Isaac blurted, grateful for the fact that his loose grey shorts were already on as he finished pulling a plain black t shirt over his damp skin. He slicked his wet hair back with a self-conscious smile. He couldn’t tell her what to do but he really hoped she’d want to stay.

He’d noticed her absentmindedly trying to stretch her sore legs and her eyes twinkled when he sat his datapad down to clap his hands against his lap in invitation. Although it had seemed perfectly natural and not at all blatantly inappropriate in the moment, the feel of her skin and the slight shifts of her weight against his lap betrayed him.

“It’s not too different from Earth,” Isaac said seriously, brows knit together as his hands worked. “There’s a desert around the equator but the poles are pretty lush. There’s a waterfall with a pink sand beach called Moonmoor – which is kind of funny because Terra Nova doesn’t actually have any natural satellites.”

He paused, glancing at Eva when she hissed as he worked at a particularly stubborn knot in her lower calf. She sensed his concern through her closed eyes and waved him off with a smile while she breathed through the waves.

Even though he wasn’t sure why, she seemed to enjoy his ramblings. He rambled mostly to keep his mind distracted as she stretched next to him on the lounge, shifting her slim legs across his lap to give him better reach.

Isaac couldn’t believe how soft and smooth she was under his battle worn hands. It was hard to believe she was the same Fury that inspired so much curiosity, awe, and even fear among the scattered crew. He fretted, internally, about all the ways his lack of biotic ability made parts of her feel inaccessible. It didn’t matter.

“What’s your home like?” Her voice was soft and her eyes traced the lines of his face as he considered how to answer.

“Wheat fields and cows. The closet neighbor a klick and a half away. People leave their doors unlocked at night.” He smiled at the memories, more aware of the homesickness deep in his bones than he’d ever noticed before. “The colony is huge overall but, my home is just a little village in the southern valley.”

“That sounds nice.” Eva’s eyes drifted shut again as Isaac’s hands worked over her lower legs, coaxing the tension from her tired muscles.

“I miss it,” he said quietly, serious and half-lost to old memory. “And peanut butter jelly sandwiches,” he admitted with a genuine despair. “What do you miss?”

Eva smiled with her eyes closed, surfing her own memories in her mind. “Elyssian sunsets. Eletania’s mountains. Nodacrux’s lightning storms. The way eezo sings on Thessia. Peace and quiet. Organic broccoli.” Her laughter almost twinkled and he couldn’t help but join her. “My life is kind of a tornado.” She gestured lightly to the iconic red stripe that flowed down the shoulder of her oversized hoodie. “Too much of a disaster to miss much.”

“You're not a disaster.” Isaac’s voice was warm and sure but, he didn’t meet her eyes because he was afraid she would see. “You're a miracle.” He could feel the heat from his flushed face again and let his eyes trace the lines of the interlocking metal plates that made up the quarter’s floor. Her body stilled under his hands and he swallowed but, continued.

“Eva, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.” He said it so matter-of-factly, almost as if it were just another immutable statistic, burned into his brain. “And I’ve seen a lot of things.”

The tension of all the unspoken crested between them when she laid her small hand over his and whispered his name.

He marveled at the way his hands found her body as she closed the space between them, crawling into his lap and settling over him with an unmistakable hunger in her perfect eyes. He was rigid before her lips crashed into his but, he was throbbing by the time she rolled her hips. She ground herself into his lap as they tasted each other with warm, open mouthed kisses and gentle slips of tongue.

Every movement one of them made escalated the desire of the other. His fingertips found the skin of her upper thighs and he tried not to groan at the feel of her lithe muscle under his palms as she moved against him, working for delicious friction. Her hands went under his loose shirt and the tickle of her nails across his ribs almost made him giggle. She swallowed it.

“Eva,” he pleaded against her lips, his hands cupping her breasts under the oversized hoodie as she squirmed on his lap, moving her hips to increase the friction. “Eva, please.”

She stilled only enough to look at him with eyes full of questions and he could only beam a shy smile. He wrapped his arms around her folded body, already scooping her against his chest. “Can I take you to bed?”

His mouth caught a nipple, rolling the sensitive bud against his tongue before his lips slid down her body, savoring her supple curves. One hand worked between her thighs as he kissed the planes of her soft belly. He hummed against her skin as she reacted to his touch, arching to feel more of his body against her.

His fingers alternated between dipping into her wetness, rubbing his thick fingers against her slick walls and swirling tiny circles on her sensitive clit. He took his cues from the way she breathed, gasped, moaned, and strained under his attentions.

He used his free arm to support his weight as he shifted up to kiss her again. He moaned against her mouth when she tangled her fingers into his thick, damp hair and tried to pull his body closer with the sweetest whine falling from her open lips.

“Hey.” He whispered, pecking her smooth cheeks to try to bring the temperature down. His body surged at the idea of discovering all of her other sounds.

“Hi,” she whispered back, eyes twinkling in the dark. She squeezed her thighs around his hand, still steadily stroking as he nuzzled against her neck, trailing kisses to her shoulder.

“I just want you to know its not that I don’t want to know what you feel like. On the inside.” His eyes shuttered, a micromovement betraying his need. Eva moved her hip against his tented shorts knowingly and he fought the urge to hump against her - if only for the fact that he was certain he’d cum. He blinked back to reality and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “But there’s a whole lot of other things I want to know about you first.”

He kissed her deeply, slipping his fingers from her aching body only to spread her thighs for his descent. More than anything he just wanted to fall asleep in her puddle.

#isaac cerrillo #eva novakov #luca moreno #harris #davis #(a little?)

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grayseekerswritinglife · 4 years

Text

Inevitabilities

Starscream was late. Very late.

When he alighted on the narrow ledge and peered into the murky depths of the cliffside cave, he expected to find it empty. It wasn't. Skyfire was there, sitting with his back against the wall. His optics were closed and his head lolled to one side in a posture of sleep. Starscream edged closer, the fingers of his still-functioning hand clenching indecisively.

Part of him—a large part—was telling him to leave. The howl of the wind and the crashing of breakers against the base of the cliff would muffle his retreat. Later, he could concoct an excuse for his absence—if Skyfire even asked, though he generally didn't. It wasn't exactly a rule between them, just an unspoken agreement to keep the outside world separate from their relationship.

It was better that way. Safer.

Starscream took a backward step, then another. He reached the rim of the ledge, one heel-thruster poised above the sheer drop. When he turned, everything beyond the cave was iron-gray. The sky, the rocks, the rain-swept ocean. The sun was hidden behind a mass of stormclouds that crouched on the lightless horizon. A salt-laden wind buffeted his chest and wings, pushing him back, and that was all it took. His legs went out from under him and he sat down, hard.

Only then did he hear a quiet sound from behind. The sound of a vocalizer being cleared. Glancing back, Starscream was unsurprised to find Skyfire watching him. Not speaking. Not telling him to stay… or go. Just leaving space. Letting him decide for himself, as he always did. Starscream turned his attention back to the cheerless vista, and waited. He didn't wait long. Skyfire's steps were slow and deliberately heavy as he came to settle on Starscream's right.

Of course on his right. Skyfire had a talent for that.

Starscream tucked his hand against his chassis where Skyfire wouldn't be able to see it. For a while, neither spoke. Eventually, Skyfire drew a small repair kit from his subspace and set it on the floor between them. Starscream stared at it, feeling stupid, ridiculous, exposed. Finally he reached across himself with his good hand, snagged the kit, and dragged it onto his lap. He fumbled with the catch, but the kit slid from his lap and popped open, scattering tools across the rock floor.

"Frag!" It was the first word either of them had spoken.

Skyfire shifted closer. "Starscream—"

Starscream cut him off with a gesture. Half a gesture, because he realized mid-motion that he'd been about to use his right hand. He twisted away, blocking Skyfire's view with a wing as he groped along the floor. He found a small precision-welder and fired it up. The spark flared blue. A brilliant, electric blue which he was able to see by without use of his infrared. His hand was worse than he'd realized. Much worse.

You're either lying or stupid!

Megatron's voice echoed harshly in his thoughts, along with the remembered humiliation of his own response:

I'm stupid, I'm stupid!

He had been. Incredibly stupid, and this was the result. His fingers were shaking. The welder slipped from his grasp and skittered across the cave floor, its spark flaring inexplicably brighter just before it was doused. A hand settled on his arm.

"Starscream."

Starscream tensed. It was automatic, a reaction programmed at the level of base-coding. To anticipate a fight because flight wasn't an option. Not for him. He wouldn't—couldn't—yield. But Skyfire wouldn't either. His hand stayed where it was until something in Starscream broke. He let his head fall to his drawn-up knees, and didn't realize how hard he was shaking until Skyfire's arms slipped around him. A soft kiss grazed the top of his head as Skyfire shaped himself around Starscream's form, great wings sweeping forward to shelter him from the gray morning light.

Skyfire said nothing. Starscream had half expected him to ask, but he didn't. Maybe he doesn't have to, an inner voice suggested, spurring a fresh surge of fury to cover his scalding humiliation. Everyone knows, everyone. Even the Autobots.

But Skyfire's knowing wasn't such a problem. Not really. In a way, it made things easier. It saved having to explain. Starscream hunched back against Skyfire's warm frame, listening to the hum of his engines and the indefinable, shimmering vibration of his life-force. His field was like the ocean. No, like space. Vast, deep and all-engulfing, but Starscream never felt he was drowning in it. Not unless he wanted to. Skyfire rocked him, big arms crossed over his chest, hands stroking his shoulders. Holding him without making him feel trapped. Starscream gradually unclenched, and Skyfire rewarded him with further kisses to his intakes and the top of his helm.

"Can I look?" came the inevitable question.

Starscream sighed.

He knew Skyfire knew, but wished he didn't have to see. Especially since Skyfire must also know, by the mere fact that Starscream was hiding it, that this wasn't simply battle-damage. Yet he didn't resist when Skyfire's hand slipped down the length of his right arm, slow and hesitant, giving Starscream plenty of warning. Plenty of chances to retreat. When Skyfire's enormous hand finally cupped his, Starscream felt the reaction. A swift tightening in Skyfire's field; a storm-flash of anger; an ache of regret; a burn of recrimination.

Self-recrimination.

Starscream twisted around in Skyfire's arms. "It's not your fault!" he snapped, glaring—and Skyfire looked so sad. Starscream hated that. He wrenched free, thinking he should leave, just fly, but his spark was rooted here and he knew there was no point. He'd fly back again. That was inevitable. And he always made Skyfire sad. That, too, was inevitable.

Fingers brushed his shoulder and drifted down the length of his back. It was barely a touch, but Starscream felt Skyfire's field pull close to his body as he reached again for Starscream's hand. "Let me see."

Starscream didn't—couldn't—look as Skyfire drew the hand into his own lap. There was a clank of metal against stone as Skyfire leaned past him and picked up one of the fallen tools. Starscream didn't know which one. He kept his gaze firmly on a vein of pale quartz that cut, lightning-shaped, through the dark stone at the cave entrance, but the expected pain never arrived. Instead, the dull throbbing ache that had been with him throughout the afternoon suddenly drained from his hand. He glanced at Skyfire, startled, but looked away just as quickly when he saw Skyfire moving his broken, useless fingers, assessing damage.

"It's bad." Skyfire's tone was impassive, betraying nothing.

"Of course it's bad." As if Megatron did anything by half-measures.

Skyfire cupped the hand in both his own. He bowed forward, and Starscream felt lips brush against his palm. Part of his mind noted that if he could feel it, that meant Skyfire had disconnected the pain receptors without interfering with his tactile system overall. He suddenly remembered another time when Skyfire had repaired him. It had been so long ago, almost another lifetime, yet it had been a blustery morning like this and he'd felt, as he did now, as if they were the only two beings in the universe.

"Do you remember that planet with the pink sky?" he asked.

Skyfire was gathering the tools and arranging them in what was, Starscream knew, the precise order in which he planned to use them. He paused for a moment, thinking. "Binary star system?" he asked. "Planetary rings? High concentration of argon in the—"

"Yes, that one."

"You hated it there," Skyfire murmured, mouth twitching into a smile.

"Well, we were stranded!" Starscream barked, then subsided with a small shrug. "It wasn't so bad."

"No?" There was humor in Skyfire's gaze, as well as affection. "I don't recall you thinking so at the time."

"I didn't know what I was talking about. Anyway, I went back."

"You did? When?"

"About a million years into the war. The place was gone."

"The whole planet was?"

"No; just the hab."

"Ah." Skyfire nodded. "I'm not surprised. The local geology would have changed, along with the atmosphere, climactic conditions—"

"There had been an ice age," Starscream interrupted. "A glacier had come through, and nothing was left but flat tundra. But I built another hab. It was like the one we made, only… smaller. I lived there for a while and it felt like you were there sometimes, and I could still—" he broke off "—still talk to you. And sometimes I thought you answered. I even thought of just… staying. There, with your ghost."

Skyfire paused his work, studying him. "But you didn't."

Starscream snorted. "The natives," he said, shaking his head. "There was this species that had evolved in the meantime. Small, furry, organic bipeds. Some with tails, some not. And these two groups, the ones with the tails and the ones without, they hated each other. They were constantly fighting and killing each other with their primitive weapons, and—Skyfire, I killed one."

Skyfire set down the welder. His hands curled around Starscream's, a thumb stroking his wrist where the damage wasn't as bad. "What happened?"

"He was going to die anyway!" Starscream snapped defensively, but Skyfire just kept stroking his wrist, waiting patiently. "He had a spear through him," Starscream continued. "Right through. In at the armpit, out just above the hip. I suppose he was looking for help when he came to my door. I…" Starscream averted his gaze.

"You shot him?"

Starscream didn't answer right away. Skyfire's hands were warm, and the unhurried glide of his thumb against Starscream's plating was oddly soothing. Not unlike the patter of rain and the rhythmic crash of breakers on the rocks below. "It was the first thing I thought of doing," Starscream admitted finally. "The only thing. I just did it, and didn't even consider anything else."

"Maybe it was the only thing you could have done."

"That isn't the point!"

"Then tell me what is." There was no trace of anger in Skyfire's tone, nor of judgment.

Starscream searched his face. "You can't go back," he said. "I'd been fighting, leading a squadron. We'd driven the Autobots underground, we were winning! And I wasn't the same anymore; that's the point."

"You left when the Decepticons were winning?"

"I had to see who I was without the war. But I couldn't hold on to the past, Sky. I couldn't be who I was then, and I couldn't hear you anymore! After the day I shot that creature, you… you stopped answering. I couldn't even remember the sound of your voice. So I went back to Cybertron. What else was I going to do?"

"And… they took you back?" Skyfire's tone was cautious, as if he was unsure of where this might be leading.

"I didn't expect them to, but Megatron was surprisingly… welcoming. Almost as if he knew where I'd been, or at least why. I fought harder than ever after that. Fought my way to the top; became his Air Commander, and then his Second-in-Command." And more. Of course there was more, but Starscream left that part unsaid.

"Did you... do you... love him?" Skyfire asked, proving that he'd read between the lines with his usual ease.

Starscream observed him in the half-light. The great, white shape of him. His big hands, clasping Starscream's damaged one so very gently. He owed this mech an honest answer, but he didn't know the truth anymore. Maybe he never had. "I don't think I can love," he said eventually. "I buried that when I left that place, that planet. The skies weren't pink anymore. They'd turned gray, like here, and… I just. Everything I ever was, with you, I left back there. And I can't go back. We can't."

He withdrew his hand and tucked it against his belly, curling around it. They sat, the hiss of rain forming a backdrop to their silence. The sky grew brighter, the iron clouds on the horizon warming to a bruised shade of copper.

"Will you at least let me finish before you leave?" Skyfire asked.

Starscream pretended to consider, but finally placed his broken hand back in Skyfire's. "You aren't going to tell me not to go back?"

"I want to," Skyfire said as he resumed, the welder's blue spark casting his face in flickering shadows. "But…" his wings sagged. "I know better."

Starscream returned his gaze to the dull sweep of ocean. As he watched, a ray of light broke through the clouds and silvered the wave-tips.

"There." Skyfire deactivated the welder. "Try making a fist."

Starscream was pleasantly surprised when his fingers moved the way they were designed to. His hand still looked nearly as bad as it had before, but it was at least functional.

"That's good," Skyfire said, satisfied. "I could repair the external damage if I had time, but at least you can use the hand now." He gathered his tools back into their kit, then rose and went to the back of the cave where he began getting his things together.

"Are you... leaving?" Starscream asked.

"I should get back," Skyfire replied without glancing up. "I'm supposed to make a run to Ganymede Station to pick up some supplies, and then—"

Starscream scrambled up. "Sky."

Skyfire lifted his head, but Starscream couldn't meet his gaze. Outside, the sun had broken through; the quartz lightning-bolt at the mouth of the cave had taken on an eerily pink glow. Red sky in the morning, sailor's warning. It was a human aphorism Starscream had picked up… somewhere. He had no idea where. But it seemed entirely appropriate for what he was about to say. "Can we stay here? For a little while longer?"

It was a bad idea. Terrible, in fact. Starscream would eventually be missed, and Skyfire had some pointless errand to run. The world expected things of them both. But Skyfire didn't point any of that out. He sank down where he'd been sleeping before, his back against the wall, and patted the ground in front of him in wordless invitation. Within moments Starscream was curled between his legs, his face pillowed against a snowy expanse of chest.

"You're right," Skyfire said at length, his deep voice vibrant beneath Starscream's cheek. "We can't go back. But maybe we'll find a way forward, if we look for one."

Outside, the rain had settled in. The fitful light of dawn had seeped away, leaving the sky a dismal shade of ash. "Not seeing one yet, Sky."

Those powerful arms gathered him closer. "Yet," Skyfire echoed, for emphasis. "But you can stay as long as you want. And I'll stay here with you."

Starscream twined his battered fingers with Skyfire's, and smiled. It was the most intimate gesture he felt capable of, and the shift in Skyfire's field told him that he was understood. Starscream closed his optics, listening to the rain, and pondered this new inevitability.

Written for SkyStarWeek 2020. This story is for Day Four: Intimacy and Vulnerability. Many thanks to @overlordraax for organizing this wonderful (and much needed) celebration of my OTP!

#skystarweek #Skyfire/Starscream #SkyScream #Starscream #Skyfire #Transformers #maccadam #Hurt/Comfort #Implied/referenced abuse #trauma #memories #injury #healing #confessions #talking things through

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yukiobeyme · 4 years

Note

For the MammoBarb bartender AU!

The bar is a joint project, owned by both Diavolo and Lucifer. And Barbatos is their best (and only) bartender. His skill’s are absolutely top notch, and none can compare. But he is also only one person, and business has been booming.

Diavolo starts to worry for his friend, that the stress of it all might be too much. But Barbatos insists that the tips alone are well worth all of the effort. Still, he can’t help but tell Lucifer about his concerns. And Lucifer agrees.

Mammon is a troublemaker, in every sense of the word. He often gets into fights, and gambles away most of his money. (His prized possession is his motorcycle Goldie!) And one day, after bailing him out of jail yet again, Lucifer has had enough.

He tells his brother that he’s going to be a bartender at his bar until he can pay off all of the money that he owes, to both Lucifer and the debt collectors. It seems like an impossible task, but if Mammon could get tipped as well as Barbatos...

It’s up to Barbatos to get Mammon, his new coworker, into tip top shape. And Barbatos isn’t easily pleased. When he first meets Mammon, he definitely isn’t impressed. Yet despite that, he’s determined to turn him into the perfect bartender.

And maybe they start hanging out after his lessons. Maybe sometimes Mammon drags him out on that motorcycle (which Barbatos insists is a death trap). It’s only natural for them to drink together, and to chat. It’s all in the name of teaching him... right?

And if Mammon becomes a waiter at times, and walks around the bar wearing bunny ears and a tail, he definitely isn’t starting. (Despite what Lucifer and Diavolo may think).

~ s8ncake 💚🎂

@s8ncake you spoil me so much! (and I love it) looking back now I guess my hand spilled I hope you enjoy and feel a little spoiled too?

Mammon is known for his bar fights, loud mouth, and Goldie. He has a record as long as he is tall, starting from age 18. Though if his record was wiped when he turned 18 it would probably be twice as long. Most of the stuff is minor, usually just consequences from bar fights or his motorcycle being too loud, but it’s enough that he has spent a night or two. The cops, Simeon and Solomon, are use to Mammon’s antics and they usually let stuff slide or just give a warning. Though Simeon will always goes to Lucifer to let him know when Mammon gets in trouble. I also imagine him having tattoos, especially hand tattoos.

Mammon is now an apprentice bartender for Barbatos to pay off debts. And honestly Barbatos is equal pissed and nervous. Barbatos knows of Mammon through stories from Lucifer and Diavolo but also from other bartenders. None of those bartender stories are good, they paint a picture of a man that is rowdy, loud, and disrespectful to anybody who has authority. Though Barbatos decides he will raise to the challenge and sets to work.

Mammon is clumsy and dropped bottles while doing drinks, which hurts Barbatos’ soul. But the sheepish look Barbatos gets makes him forgive him instantly. Mammon is in awe whenever Barbatos does a trick and Barbatos just rolls his eyes.

Mammon gets about two weeks of intense training from Barbatos before his first real shift. Barbatos might not have been impressed when he first saw Mammon but Barbatos can’t lie, he cleans up nicely. A black button up with his sleeves rolled up, his tattoos on full display and tight black jeans. Mammon might not be able to do all the tricks Barbatos can, but he definitely is a hit with the ladies and the men (and the non-binary folks). Barbatos is quite impressed by the end of the shift, Mammon didn’t break anything and he made all the drinks correctly, though he had to ask Barbatos twice what a drink was but Barbatos let it slide.

They know only have intense lessons twice a week and just meet up two hours before the bar opens where Barbatos tests his knowledge and teaches his some simplier tricks. And on Sundays after the last person leaves at 3am and they are closed after three full swing days, they each make a drink and toast to surviving the weekend crowd. Mammon goes for a simple rum and coke and Barbatos a gin and tonic. The chat about everything, or that’s what Barbatos thought. He just didn’t think there was much to Mammon but he was wrong.

It was about month of Mammon being a bartender before he got into his first fight. Barbatos was shocked and surprised to watch Mammon get out from behind the bar before picking a fight with a patron. Barbatos is furious as he watches the patron getting kicked out and Mammon being dragged to the back by Lucifer, Diavolo following close behind. What surprised Barbatos the most though, when he hears that the person Mammon just beat the crap out of was a creep and making unwanted moves on someone and even talk about a tampered drink. It leaves Barbatos wondering and he makes a note to ask Mammon about it.

Barbatos leaves the bar unattended to check on Mammob, bringing ice from the cooler. Mammon is in a heat debate with Lucifer, telling Lucifer exactly what Barbatos heard from the patrons. Mammon was defending someone. Barbatos doesn’t know what caused him to say something but he speaks up and defends Mammon and thrusts the bag of ice for him. Gesturing to Mammon’s brusing face. Lucifer freezes, not knowing Barbatos was there and shocked to have someone stuck up for Mammon. Lucifer leaves with reminding Mammon, that he can’t throw the first punch. Barbatos waits half a second before realizing he has left the bar unattended, so he ducks out the room and makes his way back to the bar. Mammon is still a hot topic, most wondering if he will come back out or not. Barbatos tells them he has the rest of the night off but would be back the next night.

That night when they finally close, Barbatos finds Mammon standing awkwardly at the bar before making his way to clean up. They work in silence before Barbatos finally asks, if that’s how Mammon usually gets into fights. Mammon seems to light up in anger and before Barbatos knows it Mammon is talking about how people don’t pay attention. That it takes one second and something bad can happen. Or how it takes one second and a creep in trying to make a move on an unwilling person. He hates it and won’t stand for it, and if he doesn’t do something no one will, bystander effect. Barbatos feels something shift inside him, he realizes he growing a soft spot for Mammon. Mammon didn’t fight because he was drunk, he was fighting to protect. Barbatos makes sure he doesn’t condemn Mammon’s choice. Because Barbatos has been a bartender long enough he knows that. Lucifer’s words from earlier makes sense, Mammon throws the first punch which is what gets him in trouble. Then why Simeon and Solomon seem okay with just giving him warnings and not making it so charges aren’t pressed. Mammon is trying to do good, justice.

After the first fight, Barbatos makes a code system with Mammon. Let him know through drinks what’s going on. Giving Barbatos a heads up what’s happening in his bar and let’s him contact security. Which successfully keeps Mammon out of trouble. While Mammon seem to fume a bit and needs to walk away for a few moments, he always comes back without having to throw a punch and each time Barbatos has pride flowing through his veins.

The longer Mammon works at the bar, the more Barbatos learns about him. Mammon isn’t shallow and easy to read, he is an ocean and complex. Barbatos finds himself wanting to understand. Something Barbatos knows is Mammon has some angry issues and some days are harder than others. Those days Barbatos finds Mammon at the bar before their lesson, in old clothes and messing with his motorcycle out front. Barbatos has learned to not talk to Mammon but just sit near him and watch him work. It’s therapeutic in its own way, Mammon knows his way around this death machine and it’s attractive. Mammon moves so fluidly and eventually Mammon will start narrating what he doing, whether it’s just checking fluids, readjusting his seat or handles, or just purely messing with the engine. Then about thirty minutes before their lesson Mammon will head in and try and clean up the best he can. He mostly grease free and Barbatos says as long as his hands and arms are clean, he can mix.

It’s on a summer day when Mammon is working on his motorcycle and they are sitting in silence, when Mammon mentions he made enough money to pay off all his debts. So he is free to leave, but he is holding off until he decides what he wants to do. Barbatos felt his heart dropped, he wasn’t ready for Mammon to leave yet. He doesn’t want Mammon to leave, he forgot it was a temporary employment. Barbatos tries to shove away all his emotions. Barbatos is unusually quiet that night and Mammon notices and doesn’t know what to think of it.

After two weeks, Mammon breaks the news to Barbatos that he won’t be bartending with him... full time anymore. At first Barbatos is heart broken but then it hits him, full time? Mammon tells him, he going to be helping Beel with the kitchen being a waiter. He even grumbles about having to wear the stupid bunny outfit. Mammon tells Barbatos he hopes he doesn’t mind, but tells him he still willing to help during the busy hours.

The first time Barbatos sees Mammon wearing bunny ears and a tail, he looking respectfully. When Diavolo and Lucifer come to watch, grab a drink and catch up with patrons. They make a comment about how Barbatos seems distracted by something. Which is by far ridiculous. Barbatos isn’t staring, and he sure isn’t staring hard at the white tail that matches Mammon’s hair color perfectly. At some point though, Mammon notices and definitely starts throwing winks and exaggerating bending over for Barbatos, which leaves him hot and bother and flushed.

The patrons catch on to the show and while some are disappointed the great Bartender and the hot assistant are not only taken but taken by each other. Which Mammon never denies and only fuels that rumor through a red face, while Barbatos is barely holding composure. Though when Lucifer and Diavolo catch on, Mammon completely denies everything, which only makes him seem more quilty in their eyes. And on the nights they flirt the most, if there is an increase in tips, they don’t speak about it.

Mammon asks Barbatos if he wants to ride on his motorcycle with him and Barbatos instantly says no. It takes another month before he says maybe and by the second month he says yes. At this point, they are completely dancing around each other. Awkward pauses and staring at each other’s lips, brushing fingers, and blushing and avoiding other eyes. Barbatos hates he agreed to go on the death trap, but it’s their first day off in a while and he doesn’t want to be away from Mammon. Barbatos makes it known and Mammon flashes him a dangerous smile and tells him to hold on.

Barbatos squeezes the life out of Mammon, brushed flush against his back and tries to hide his face in Mammon’s neck. After what feels like forever, Mammon tells Barbatos they have arrived. It’s to a cliff side that over looks city and it’s dark now so there are city lights. Before Barbatos can say anything, Mammon pulls him close and clashes their lips together. It’s a messy first kiss, too much teeth and their noses kept getting in the way. They pulled away flushed, swollen lips, and panting. The second kiss Barbatos leads and isnt as urgent but expresses the same amount of emotion.

Now the bar is more lively and fun, and if Lucifer or Diavolo had to pinpoint why, it was because it seemed a strict and uptight bartender fell for a no good troublemaker. Though they can’t say they are too happy when those two start work with the outfits already askew or if during the night they both disappear for a few moments. Though Barbatos says Mammon is still a trouble maker, just in a very different way.

#long post #super long post #I world built way too much #like i should have just written the damn fic #yuki rambles #yuki writes #mammobarb #obey me mammom #mammon obey me #barbatos obey me #obey me barbatos #s8ncake i love you

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frankendeers · 5 years

Text

Kylux and the Queer Literary Tradition

So, I have seen a lot of people talk about Kylux in terms of queer fetishisation or even labelling it a “crack ship”.

The discourse has somehow made Kylux out to be this straight-girl fantasy where two men are simply shipped because they are white and handsome. Such an unfavourable interpretation completely takes away from many Kyluxers being queer and/or poc themselves as well as shaming straight people for seeing queer potential where it’s not canonically stated to be. Since the comic came out, there has been much elation because it finally “confirms” some of the things that appeal to Kyluxers, therefore justifying the ship. I don’t think, however, that Kylux has ever been anything but rather conventional in its queer subtext. Kylux falls in line with a long tradition of homoerotic aggression between two men. I will try to put this into words as eloquently as I can.

First, let’s talk about how Kylo Ren/Ben Solo and Armitage Hux are queer coded on their own before moving on to their relationship.

Armitage Hux is almost comically queer coded. The act of feminising a villain to subtly convey to the audience that he is gay and therefore “morally reprehensible” has been a practice since the Hays code era (in some respects even before that -as the Victorian Age marks the beginning of our modern understanding of gender and subsequently, its subversion). He is seen to be physically weak, petty, moving and snarling and “bitching” in a way society would stereotypically ascribe to women.

His British Accent, at least from an American point of view, already marks his sexuality as ambiguous. This is not helped by the fact that he speaks in an abnormally posh way, alienating himself from the common people.Hereby, the movies draw a well-established line between decadence/queer and pragmatic/heteronormative.

In the “Aftermath” trilogy Brendol Hux states his son to be “weak willed” and “thin as a slip of paper and just as useless”, robbing him of his masculinity – no matter how ridiculous of an endeavour this is when talking about a four-year old boy. Hux is very early on criticised for not fitting into a socially expected form of manhood. This is especially evident when one compares him to his resistance rival, Poe Dameron. Now, Dameron has his own set of queer coding, but he is shown to be what is commonly viewed as “acceptably queer”. He is masculine, trained and proactive. When he ridicules Hux at the beginning of The Last Jedi, there is this juxtaposition of the helpless, feminine villain and the dashing, superior male hero. Hux is supposed to be judged as vain and arrogant while Poe takes risks and although reckless, is somehow to be admired. Further, Hux is constantly abused. He is thrown into walls letting out high pitched screams, runs away in the face of danger (as seen in the recent comic) and is pushed around by his own subordinates. His strength lies in being cunning and calculated, not stereotypically masculine virtues.

Hux’s destructive powers, his monstrosity so to speak, also follow a long-standing tradition of queer villainization. Harry Benshoff’s The Monster and The Homosexual articulates this as follows:

“[...] repressed by society, these socio-political and psychosexual Others are displaced (as in a nightmare) onto monstrous signifiers, in which form they return to wreak havoc […]” (Benshoff 65).

And what other, than a socio-political Other, is Armitage Hux - the Starkiller?

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo, too, is touched by the mark of queerness. It is no coincidence that despite his raw power and muscular physique, Kylo Ren has not been adopted by hegemonic masculinity in the same way Han Solo has, for example. When the logical is traditionally seen as masculine, the realms of pure and unfiltered emotionality is feminine. And Kylo Ren is unrestrained in his vulnerability, his tears, his pain – People make fun of the dramatic ways he gives words to his feelings precisely because it is regarded as weak, as whiny, as “womanly”. His long curly hair, full lips and dress-like costume only strengthens this impression. Kylo Ren is an amalgam of masculine aggression and feminine expressiveness. Some of his outbursts even remind of the pseudo-illness of hysteria. The gendered lines are blurred and unclear in Kylo Ren, diffusing any efforts to appease the binary. Benshoff describes this as a form of queer existence which does not only constitute itself in opposition to what is considered normal but “ultimately opposed the binary definitions and prescriptions of a patriarchal heterosexism” (Benshoff 63).

Both are not easily categorised. They are patched up by multiple, gendered signifyers. Kylo Ren’s masculine body in contrast to his femininized fashion. Hux’s slender body with his stiff and masculinised military get-up. Hux’s toxic tendency to avoid showing his emotions while also being shown as weak, womanly, cowardly. Kylo Ren is an excellent warrior, yet simultaneously being prone to emotional outbursts. Jeffrey Jerome Cohen’s famous work Monster Theory (Seven Theses) elaborates upon this further, while acknowledging that queer figures are most commonly depicted as the monstrous Other:

“The refusal to participate in the classificatory “order of things” is true of monsters generally: they are disturbing hybrids whose externally incoherent bodies resist attempts to include them in any systematic structuration.” (Cohen 6).

Nonetheless, many queer people feel empowered by these figures. Lee Edelman theorises in his polemic No Future: Queer Theory and the Death Drive about the nature of queerness as a force of cultural resistance. According to Edelman, the queer must always refuse societal expectations of a perpetual future and embrace the death drive instead. In this sense, queerness stands in direct opposition to futurity as it negates any meaning in sexual reproduction and marriage (cp. Edelman 13). When Hux destroys planets, when Kylo Ren proposes to burn it all down “The Empire, your Parents, the Resistance, the Sith, the Jedi”, they are not merely killing the past. They are also negating the worth of categories that make up future and present alike. They are resisting the heteronormative values of production.

Now that we have the puzzle pieces that illustrate how Hux and Kylo are queer figures in on themselves, it might be interesting to examine how they work together.

In her text “Epistemology of the Closet”, Eve Sedgwick talks about a common gothic trope where two men are caught in a feud full of mutual hatred. In this case, both men are mirror images of one another, making them especially vulnerable to the other’s advances: "[…] a male hero is in a close, usually murderous relation to another male figure, in some respects his 'double', to whom he seems to be mentally transparent."

Kylo and Hux are very clearly mirrors of one another. Aside from the gendered oppositions I have already illustrated, they are each other’s double in every sense of the word. Born on opposite ends of an age-old war. Both caught in complicated relationship with their fathers whom both have killed out of opposite motivations (loving them too much vs. hating them with a passion). They represent the opposite ends in the binaries for logic vs. spirituality, restraint vs. wildness, control vs. sensuality, technology vs. nature etc.

This shot from The Last Jedi shows both of them mirroring each other visually, henceforth strengthening this impression.

They are "mentally transparent" to each other, because they are different sides of the same coin which Snoke tossed around to his whims. Even their aggression takes on erotic forms. It is hard to deny the homoerotic implications in choking another men to make him submit, forcing him onto his knees. The breaching of personal spaces and looming over each other, the obsessive need to prove one’s own worth to the male other with which one is engaged in a homosocial bond:

“The projective mutual accusation of two mirror-image men, drawn together in a bond that renders desire indistinguishable from prédation, is the typifying gesture of paranoid knowledge.” (Sedgwick 100).

And through all of this, I have not even talked about the collaborative potential between the two of them. Their instinct to protect one another despite insiting the opposite. How both of them could overcome their trauma by engaging with the other, who suffered so similarly under family obligation and Snoke’s abuse.

Works Cited:

Benshoff, Harry: “The Monster and the Homosexual.” In: Harry Benshoff (ed. and introd.)/Sean Griffin (ed. and introd.): Queer Cinema, the Film Reader. New York: Routledge 2004. Pp. 63-74.

Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome. "Monster Culture (Seven Theses)." Jeffrey Jerome (ed. and preface) Cohen: Monster Theory: Reading Culture (1996): 3-25.

Edelman, Lee. No Future: Queer Theory and the Death Drive. ,2004. Print.

Sedgwick, Eve Kosofsky-Sedgwick. Epistemology Of the Closet. Berkeley, Calif. :University of California Press, 2008.

#Kylux #Armitage Hux #Kylo Ren #Ben Solo #General Hux #Hux #Benarmie #Kylux meta #sw #sw meta #sw analysis #tfa #tlj #long post #long text #hux comic #huxlo

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years

Text

Pointless Pining (makes for the best love stories)

Ao3

Summary: Sure, Roman could tell aur squishes that au was in love with them. There was even a fairly good chance they’d return the sentiment! But there was also a chance (however small) that they would say no, and well... Roman didn’t want to take that risk. Content: Mutual pining, oblivious pining so oblivious it’s ridiculous (but true!), swearing, referencing making out, running away from family events to avoid said family, confessions, kissing (not on the lips); everyone’s non-binary except andy who’s male (cis or trans, reader’s choice), aro!roman, implied aro!logan + aro!remy Pairings: QPR rolosleep, romo anxton (ts shorts anxiety [Andy] x Patton) Notes: For easy reference, Roman’s pronoun set is au/aur/aurs/aurself (based off of the periodic table element name for gold, not the term for alternate universes), Logan’s is ja/java/jav/javs/javaself (based off the coding language, not coffee), and Patton’s is dai/dais/daiself Also! this fic is dedicated to my wonderful qpps, @lo-gayn and @bitchy-sleep ! i adore them with all my heart, even if I wasn’t very helpful with the getting-together part of our relationship. this one’s for you, loves <3

Roman had an amazing, spectacular, flawless plan.

“This is a horrible idea, dude.”

Some people just refused to understand aur brilliance.

“You know, this is why I don’t talk to you.” Roman said matter-of-factly, ignoring Andy rolling his eyes as au compared two dresses in aur mirror. “Now just tell me which red goes better with my eyes.”

“How would I know? Unlike some people, I don’t spend all day looking into them.” Andy huffed, reclined out on Roman’s bed. “I don’t even know why you’re asking me for help with your clearly doomed plan.”

“I’m asking you because it’s you or Patton, and dai’ll just ignore my dress question and focus on the reason for the dress instead, and you know what dai will say then.”

“To get over yourself and stop ending up in fanfic-esque situations with your squishes because you’re a hopeless pining mess who refuses to open your eyes to the reality that they want to be your partners as much as you want to be theirs?”

Roman turned from the mirror, frowning at Andy. “Well dai wouldn’t say it so rudely.”

Andy just shrugged. “It’s the truth. The sooner you accept it, the sooner I can stop dealing with this bullshit.”

A gasp of faux offense sounded in the doorway, and Roman groaned at the same time Andy perked up, pushing himself into a better sitting position.

“Language!” Patton scolded, though dais words had no heat to them as dai smiled and joined Andy on the bed. Well, joined Andy on his lap, a move that the punk didn’t argue, even as his cheeks turned a rather vibrant shade of red.

“Sorry, Pat.” Andy mumbled as Patton innocently wrapped dais arms around the back of his neck and leaned against his chest. Roman rolled aur eyes. Andy could act as intimidating and tough as he wanted, but as soon as Patton was within eyesight, he melted.

“It’s no problem, an-dorable.” Patton said. Andy just blushed harder and Roman sniggered, amused. That was the wrong thing to do, however, as it drew Patton’s attention onto aur and aur dresses. “Oh, those are some nice outfits, Ro. What’s the special occasion?”

“None! Nothing!” Roman said hastily, quickly moving over to aur closet and tossing the two options back in haphazardly. Two weeks au had kept this a secret, and au refused to be found out now. “Just… showing off some of my wardrobe to Andy.”

Roman didn’t need to be facing Patton to know dai didn’t believe that, and au could practically hear the frown in dais tone as dai responded, “Are you sure? Those are some of your favorite dresses, you don’t normally take them out without a reason.”

“And I had a reason! Showing them off to Andy!” Roman defended, looking at Andy slightly desperately. “Right, Andy?”

Instead of providing Roman with the save au needed, however, Andy glanced at Patton before shaking his head. “Au’s got a date.”

Patton’s eyes lit up at the actual answer, distracted enough by it to not notice the rather violent motion Roman made at Andy. Andy seemed unconcerned and unthreatened, only smirking rather self-satisfiedly at the gesture.

“You finally asked them out?” Patton said excitedly, continuing on before Roman could continue, “This is great, Roro! You should definitely go with the scarlet dress, then- it’s just perfect for a first date-”

“It’s not a date!” Roman interrupted, stopping Patton’s words immediately.

Dai blinked twice, looking confused. “But Andy said it was.”

“Sometimes Andy lies.” Roman muttered.

“Not this time.” Andy spoke up, ignoring Roman’s glare. “I don’t care what you want to call it, dude, but it’s very clearly a date.”

“Those were some pretty nice dresses you were considering Roman.” Patton added. “Not really what you’d wear out casually.”

Roman sighed and glanced back at the dresses au had crammed back into aur closet. “Then maybe I’m just being too dramatic in my choice in attire.” Au mumbled to aurself, trying not to feel too disheartened. Au did like wearing those dresses, and any excuse to do so was one au’d always jump at. It’s not like au wanted Logan and Remy to see aur wearing one of them. Not in particular, anyways. That would be silly and blackmail material, and despite aur sibling’s sweet exterior dai was more than willing to work with blackmail.

Shaking aur head to focus back on the issue at hand, Roman once more faced Andy and Patton. “One of Logan’s relatives is having a birthday dinner, and Logan invited me and Remy to come and stop java from being forced to only interact with jav family for two hours. It’s not a date, just friends helping friends.”

“Ja literally invited both of you to dinner at a fancy restaurant for the express purpose of spending the night talking and dining with you two.” Andy said, repeating the same thing he had said only a few minutes ago, albeit then with more swearing. “It’s a date.”

“I have to agree with Andy here, Ro.” Patton said, once more smiling excitedly.

“You always agree with Andy.”

Patton waved dais hand dismissively. “You were clearly picking out date clothes to go out to dinner with your squishes. It’s a date.”

Roman sighed, moving over to aur desk. Au almost slumped into the chair before deciding the queer choice was to hop on top of the desk and sit there. “Just because it meets the criteria of a date doesn’t make it one.”

“If it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck-”

“-then maybe you’re just shit at identifying waterfowl.” Roman cut Andy off, ignoring Patton’s reprimand of ‘language!’. “Besides, dates are for people in love with each other. One-sided pining doesn’t count.”

At that statement, Roman was met with twin stares of disbelief.

“Really, Roman, I thought you would’ve gotten over this by now.” Patton said after a moment, tone lightly scolding.

“My pining…?”

“Your belief that it’s one-sided.” Patton corrected. “It’s very obvious, I’m not sure how you’re still missing it.”

“Just because you guys think it’s obvious-”

“Logan has literally told you ja’d be open to being in a QPR with you.” Andy cut aur off, disbelief now mixing with frustration. “How much more obvious do you need?”

Roman looked away, focusing on a wall. “It was late when ja said that, I’m sure ja didn’t mean it.”

Andy scoffed. “It was four in the afternoon.”

“That’s… kinda late.” Roman said, well aware aur tone wasn’t quite as confident as it needed to convince Patton and Andy to drop the matter. “And that’s just Logan, nothing about Remy.”

“He is literally always flirting with you.”

“Remy flirts with everyone.”

Patton shook dais head. “Remy only really flirts with two people, Ro, and she’s made out with one of them plenty of times.”

“Logan and Remy’s snogging is purely platonic.” Roman dismissed, wrinkling aur nose even as au said ‘snogging.’ Au wasn’t a fan of the word, but au preferred it to some of the other more creative terms au could’ve gone for.

Au left out the part where au was fairly certain it wasn’t purely platonic. There was only so long you could try and live in someone’s lap before one emotion or the other got wrapped into the mix, in Roman’s opinion.

“You’re really just going to ignore all of the evidence they like you back.” Andy said slowly, as if hoping that Roman would correct him.

But all Roman did was smile at him and cheerfully say, “Yep!”

Andy tossed his hands up into the air, flopping backwards on the bed, Patton giggling as dai fell over with him. “I give up. You’re impossible and refuse to listen to any and all logic.

“I listen to Logan!” Roman defended in amusement. “Ja’s the only one I know with a fully functioning braincell, after all.”

“And yet, you refuse to listen to Logan when ja says ja wants to be your partner.”

“Technically, ja just said ja’d be alright with the idea of it, not that ja wanted things to be that way.” Roman corrected, slipping off aur desk and moving towards aur dresser. “There’s a difference.”

“You know, you don’t have to have Logan confess to you first.” Patton pointed out, snuggling dais head against Andy’s shoulder. “Sometimes you just have to read the signs and make your move!”

Roman chuckled. “Patton, you asked Andy out within a day of knowing him. Your advice hardly applies here.”

Patton pouted. “I think it applies here!”

“You’re just refusing to read the signs, Roman.” Andy added, wrapping a hand around Patton’s back and kissing dais forehead. “It worked out pretty fucking well for Patton, after all.”

Roman didn’t respond immediately, waiting for Patton’s ‘language!’ exclamation, only to find it not coming, Patton much more distracted by curling against Andy’s chest. Roman smiled a bit at that. “Well, I am Jared, 19.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself, that’s what you are.” Andy replied. Roman bit back a ‘when do I not’ and focused on shifting through the clothes in aur dresser. Only a moment passed before Andy asked, “What’re you doing?”

“Picking my outfit for tonight.” Roman answered, pulling out a pair of aur black jeans, one of the pairs that hadn’t faded to grey yet. Au dropped it on top of aur dresser and moved on to finding a shirt.

Shuffling on the bed indicated to Roman that Andy and Patton must have sat up, likely to try and see what clothing pieces au was choosing. They didn’t say anything, however, until Roman pulled out two shirts and turned back towards them, displaying aur choices. “Which one do you think goes better with my eyes?”

Patton frowned. “From fancy dresses to jeans and t-shirts? That’s a pretty steep de-escalation, Ro.”

Roman shrugged. “Well, if you guys thought the fancy dresses were for a special date, I don’t want Logan and Remy to feel I’ve made any false assumptions as to our relationship and the purpose of tonight’s outing.” Au said, smirking at the look of shock and annoyance on Patton’s and Andy’s faces, respectively. “So. Which one goes better with my eyes?”

“You’re a moron.” Andy told aur before nodding his head at the shirt in Roman’s left hand. “That one.”

“Thank you!” Roman responded, turning back towards aur dresser and dropping the one Andy had indicated back into the drawer, putting the white tank top covered in sparkly golden dots of varying sizes with the jeans.

Andy groaned. “You know this is a date, no matter how hard you try to sabotage it, right?”

“Nope!” Roman replied, scooping up aur choice in outfit and snagging aur red hoodie off the floor before heading towards the hallway. “I’m going to get changed. If you two are still here when I get back, I’m going to raid Patton’s stash of hidden cookies and give them to Logan’s family.”

Patton squinted at aur. “You don’t know where my stash of cookies is. They’re hidden.”

Roman chuckled as au stepped out of the room, heading towards the bathroom. “If you say so, Pat.” Au called over aur shoulder, confident in aur belief that Andy and Patton would be gone before au had even changed aur shirt.

After all, there was only so much needling Roman could take, especially when it was in relation to aur squishes. Aur squishes who didn’t like aur back, Patton and Andy’s opinions aside and ignored. Roman might be aro, but au was still the expert on love, and au knew in-love people when au saw them. Logan and Remy loved Roman as a friend, and that was it.

And if Roman was wrong, well… it wasn’t like au was ever going to confess anyways.

Roman arrived at the Sanders household ten minutes early, having walked from aur house with the intent to hitch a ride with the family to the dinner. The driveway had a couple more cars in it than usual, and the out-of-state license plates some of them had confirmed Roman’s suspicions they were Logan’s visiting relatives’ vehicles.

Au didn’t bother with the door, cutting across the yard to the side of the house and slipping down and through the low-set basement window that had been left open for this exact purpose. Though the window was more commonly used as a way to escape the house, Roman and Remy often helping to pull Logan out so that they could go star-gazing when they all should’ve been sleeping, it served the purpose of avoiding strangers and prying questions equally well.

Roman landed well, rocking on aur feet slightly to keep aur balance as au glanced around, looking for aur friends. The basement was a small affair, with one side taken up with Logan’s bed, dresser and desk, and the other with a bathroom and an old washing machine that no longer washed clothes but did occasionally hold the elements of Logan’s various experiments. That made it easy to spot Logan, who was sitting on jav bed and reading, so absorbed in jav book that ja didn’t notice Roman’s entrance.

This gave Roman the perfect opportunity to be gay without java noticing.

Because Logan, of course, had already changed for the dinner; jav regular nerdy t-shirt and jeans had been replaced with a simple, knee-length dark blue dress, the top half layered with white lace that outlined constellations across Logan’s chest. Jav hair was held in a loose ponytail by a silver ribbon, and matching star clips held back jav bangs. Ja looked gorgeous, and in that moment Roman wanted nothing more than to kiss jav forehead.

But then Logan looked up from jav book and the moment was over.

Ja spotted Roman quickly, offering aur a smile as ja slipped jav bookmark into place and put jav book to the side. “Hello, Roman!”

Roman smiled back, trying to push aur thoughts away. “Heya, specs. How you doing?”

“I’m alright.” Logan answered. “My relatives still remember the elephant toothpaste incident from last year, so they’re wary of coming down here and bothering me.”

Roman chuckled at the memory of said incident. Despite requesting that ja be allowed to spend jav birthday as ja wanted, Logan’s parents had called jav relatives down for the day and planned a party around them being there. So Logan threw some water, soap, yeast, and hydrogen peroxide into a box and set the concoction up to make a mess of the stairs leading to jav room as soon as someone opened the door.

Ja had escaped out the window after that, where Roman and Remy had been waiting for java to join them. The three of them had spent the day wandering the town, avoiding Logan’s searching family and doing whatever caught their attention. They had ended the day with the greasiest food from the cheapest fast-food joint they could find, eating it on top of the long-closed arcade and admiring the view of their town at dusk.

Logan had been grounded for two weeks afterwards, but ja always held that it was worth it for what had been the best birthday of jav life.

Roman was pulled out of aur recollections by the sound of a door opening. Looking up, however, Roman realized it wasn’t the door to the basement, but instead the bathroom door.

A second later and Remy emerged, dressed almost opposingly to Logan’s style and yet still looking just as stunning. Like Roman, he was wearing jeans, but hers were torn up and well-worn. He was also wearing a black crop top, a fishnet shirt doing a poor job of covering up the rest of her upper body, not that Remy seemed to care. His jacket was slung over her back, his sunglasses were resting in her messy brown-and-pink hair, and his easy confidence in her look were only adding to the rising blush Roman was trying to fight off.

“Finally decided to join us, babes?” Remy teased, seemingly oblivious to Roman’s gay panic.

Roman cleared aur throat and tried to be oblivious to it too. “Excuse you, I’m ten minutes early.”

“Yeah, but I’ve already been here for hours.” Remy complained, dropping down next to Logan on the bed dramatically. “And I’ve only had one cutie to gaze at the entire time! Not that ja isn’t certainly a very gorgeous cutie-”

“Remy’s been helping me ensure no one tries to bother me before I’m stuck at a table with them.” Logan explained, cutting Remy off and ignoring his pout. “She’s been here since my first relative showed up around one.”

“Over four hours of just you two chilling down here?” Roman confirmed, smirking as au did so. “Wonder how you spent that time.”

Logan frowned at Roman in disappointment. “I mostly spent it reading and ignoring the annoyance.”

“Mostly?” Roman repeated, smirk growing at the light blush that entered Logan’s cheeks.

“Well I couldn’t exactly be reading for every single second of those hours-”

“What Lolo means is that I’m not as annoying as ja pretends I am.” Remy cut in, throwing an arm over Logan’s shoulders and leaning against java. “And that I have very nice lips.”

Logan’s blush turned a deeper red as ja swatted at Remy, pushing her off of java. “You are as annoying as I say you are, and you’re a bitch.”

“But you still kissed meeeeee.”

“I will shove you.”

“Ah, come on, you know you love me-”

Roman didn’t bother trying to stifle aur laugh as Logan made good on jav claim.

Remy, for his part, didn’t seem put out, only looking up at Logan from her new position on the floor, slowly shaking his head as she said, “Cold, Lo, cold.”

“I do run a temperature lower than the average human, though I do not see how that could be relevant here.”

Remy pushed himself up, climbing back onto the bed and immediately slotting herself against Logan’s side, resting his head on jav shoulder and wrapping her arms around jav waist. “Because if you don’t have me warming you up, you could freeze! So you really can’t keep shoving me off of you.”

“That’s illogical.” Logan pointed out with a roll of jav eyes, but ja made no move to get Remy off of java.

Roman tried to find the best, least awkward way to stand, considering au was near the middle of the room and the only other people in it were cuddling. A small part of aur considered joining them on the bed, maybe even leaning against Logan aurself and joining the cuddles, but the possibility of it being weird or disruptive to the nice little thing Logan and Remy already had was too high to risk, so au remained rocking on aur heels, glancing at aur watch and wondering how close they were to go time.

The door at the top of the stairs opening and Logan’s mother yelling down about how they were about to leave and Logan needed to get upstairs answered Roman’s question for aur.

“Remy, please let go of me.”

Remy made an unhappy humming noise and didn’t move.

Logan sighed. “I can’t get up if you don’t let go of me.”

“Then don’t get up.” Remy murmured back, clearly content to skip out on the dinner and spend the evening with just Logan instead. It was a sentiment Roman seconded, if only in aur mind.

“I don’t want to be grounded again.” Logan replied.

Remy sighed, sounding greatly annoyed, but he finally did as Logan asked, letting java go and standing up. “Can I at least hold your hand?”

Logan stood up after her, only taking a second to think before ja nodded and offered Remy one of jav hands. Remy smiled brightly, taking the proffered hand and nearly pulling Logan towards the door.

He was stopped by Logan’s refusal to move too far, turning back towards Roman instead and holding out jav other hand.

“Coming?” Logan said simply, and after a moment that stretched longer than it probably should have, Roman nodded, hesitantly taking Logan’s hand. Logan’s fingers wrapped tightly around aur own, the gesture warm and sweet, even if Roman only had a moment to appreciate it before Remy was once more tugging on Logan, now dragging both java and Roman along with her up the stairs.

Roman allowed aurself to be pulled along, using that time to try and decide if au should ignore the warmth blooming in aur chest or savor it.

Dinner went just about exactly how Roman had expected it to go. Logan’s relatives tried to talk to java, aur and Remy deflected their questions away, the relatives asked them questions instead, Logan helped deflect those, jav relatives moved back to trying to question java, the cycle went on until they were halfway through dessert. Roman was just thankful most of the relatives allowed themselves to be deterred from their interrogation-style inquiries.

There were some positives as well. The three of them had secured one of the table’s corners, Logan seated between Remy and Roman to further block javaself off from jav family. In that arrangement, it was easy for them to duck over and talk to each other, keeping their conversation separate from the rest of the table’s.

And that was how they had spent most of the dinner, talking amongst themselves, trying to muffle their laughs as Logan made particularly scathing remarks about jav more despised relatives and they discussed where they’d all prefer to be. When their food arrived, they traded bites of their meals with each other, using the opportunity to mock each other’s taste with grins on their faces. That particular activity got some of Logan’s relatives looking at them funny, but Roman just shrugged it off as none of them knowing what having genuine fun with one’s friends looked like.

It was at the end of dinner, when Logan’s family was waiting on the bill and discussing what to do with the rest of the evening, when Logan excused javaself to go to the bathroom. Ja patted Roman’s and Remy’s shoulders as ja stood, clearly wanting to make sure they didn’t forget the plan.

Roman knew au certainly hadn’t, and a glance at Remy’s smirk proved she hadn’t either.

A couple of minutes after Logan’s departure from the table, Roman feigned interest in aur phone, acting as though au had gotten a text. Au then stood up, thanking the collective Sanders for inviting aur to dinner and explaining that aur ride was there and it was time for aur to head home. Au brushed off their confusion at thinking they were the ones taking aur home easily, and slipped away from the table before they could figure out something was amiss.

Au smiled when au found Logan in the lobby, looking only slightly worried over the idea that one of jav relatives might catch java trying to get out of any more family interaction time. Ja smiled when ja saw Roman, however. “Took you long enough.”

“I believe it was you who said if I left too soon after you they’d be suspicious.” Roman replied, matching jav smile. “Why, miss me?”

“Always.” Logan said almost immediately, and Roman fought off a blush at the single word. Au and Logan were close friends, and had been like that for a while. Cheesy lines like that were relatively common between the two of them; it didn’t mean anything else.

Roman cleared aur throat. “Do you want to step outside? Remy might take a bit, depending on whether or not he decides to make a scene, and I don’t want to be too close if that happens, do you?”

Logan chuckled. “Certainly not.” Ja replied, moving towards the double doors of the restaurant and holding one of them open for Roman.

Stepping outside, Roman took in a deep breath of the cool evening air, preferring it to the overwhelming smell of various foods that had wafted throughout the entire restaurant. Logan came to stand beside aur only a second later, and Roman directed them both to the side of the restaurant, where they could wait discreetly for Remy to join them.

“So,” Roman started, not wanting to spend the entire time waiting in silence, “scale of one to ten, how has your evening been so far?”

Logan considered the question for a moment before responding, “An eight, I’d say.”

Roman’s eyes widened a bit. “That’s pretty high, all things considered.”

Logan shrugged. “Being around my relatives is always an atrocious affair, but having you and Remy around helped a lot. It was much more manageable with you two.” Logan glanced at Roman for a moment, expression unreadable, before focusing jav gaze back out on the parking lot in front of them. “I always enjoy being around you.”

“We’re around each other a lot.” Roman pointed out quietly. Au wasn’t sure what point au was trying to prove, but au wasn’t quite sure what point Logan was going for either.

“I suppose so.” Logan murmured, though it sounded more like a filler phrase than anything else. Silence stretched between them after that, and Roman didn’t feel like au should break it.

It was eventually broken for aur by Remy sprinting out of the restaurant, spinning on his heel as she got outside, stopping when he saw Logan and Roman.

“Hey, darlings! We gotta go!” She called out, grabbing their attention as he gestured for them to come join her. “Unless you want this whole plan to go down the drain, anyways!”

“I knew he should’ve snuck out before me.” Logan said, shaking jav head even as ja smiled and started to run after Remy, Roman right behind java.

Remy didn’t start moving again until Logan and Roman were close, close enough that he could grab their hands. As soon as she had them, he took off again, weaving between the cars fast enough to hopefully throw off anyone who might be at the restaurant entrance now, trying to spot them.

Soon enough they were out of the restaurant’s parking lot and on the sidewalk, racing down it as fast as they could. Remy still held their hands, her grip tight and warm, while he constantly checked around them, looking for something or another. Suddenly, she skidded to a stop in front of an alleyway.

“You guys want to see something awesome?” Remy asked, glancing between the two of them as he asked.

Roman fought off the urge to respond ‘I already do’ as au looked at Remy, flushed from the running but grinning as well, looking a wild sort of beautiful. “I’d love to.”

“I certainly don’t have a better way to spend my time.” Logan said.

Remy’s grin only grew. “Great.” She said, right before starting to run again, pulling them into the alleyway. They allowed themselves to be led as he ducked between different alleys and slipped between spaces Roman felt they weren’t meant to slip through, only letting go of Remy’s hands when she released them, coming to a stop in a small, unusual clearing.

The spot Remy had finally stopped on was a ledge of cracked and jagged concrete, the broken concrete spreading out in a circle to fill the small area they were in, most of the space around them walled off by buildings built right next to each other and rusty chain link fences. Crumbling dirt sloped down against the concrete, making a small crater within the border of damaged rock.

In the center of it all was a pond. It wasn’t very large, the crater itself only being three or four yards wide across, but it was well-sized. The surface of the water was pretty with the sunset colours playing across it, but it was clear enough for the group to see down into it. The dirt in the pool was awkwardly packed, leaving it deep in some spots and shallow in others, but amongst the layers Roman could just make out little creatures swimming about.

“I stumbled into this place a couple of days ago when I was bored and wandering.” Remy explained while Roman and Logan leaned closer to the pond, both interested in the animals moving within it. “I think there was some construction mishap that made the crater, and they were too lazy to do anything to fix it, so they left it as was. Over time, it collected rainwater, and-”

“Are these tadpoles?” Logan interrupted, looking up from the pond to meet Remy’s eyes instead.

A broad smile broke across Remy’s face. “Far as I can tell, yep. Saw a few fully grown lads hopping around yesterday, too, though I don’t know if we’ll see them today.”

Logan smiled at that, jav grin somehow bigger than Remy’s as ja quickly turned back towards the pond, leaning even closer to look down at the tadpoles. “Wonderful.” Ja said, under jav breath, looking completely absorbed by the animals.

Roman forced aurself to stop admiring Logan and go back to watching the tadpoles before au was caught, but in aur opinion, the former view was much more incredible than the latter- and the tadpoles were pretty incredible.

“Tonight just gets better and better, huh?” Roman said, the comment technically directed towards both Logan and Remy, but given that Remy seemed to have become distracted with one of the fences, only Logan really heard it.

“Indeed.” Logan agreed, glancing away from the pond to look at Roman. Ja was still smiling brightly, jav entire face lit up and expression excited and happy. Roman couldn’t help but smile back, though aurs was softer, a product of Logan’s excitement, not aur own.

“You look lovely.” Roman said, out of the blue, not entirely sure why au had spoken. It was true, yes, but Roman tried to mostly internalize those thoughts. “Your, uh, your dress, I mean. It’s very lovely- you wear it very… lovelily.”

Logan laughed softly, a beautiful sound that Roman was absolutely in love with (almost as much as au was in love with Logan). “Thank you.” Ja finally said, with a small smile that seemed even more meaningful than the grin ja had been wearing a moment ago. “You wear your outfit very nicely as well.”

If Roman hadn’t been blushing earlier, au certainly was now. “Thanks.” Au mumbled, glancing back out at the pond to avoid Logan’s gaze. Au had the distinct feeling that if au looked too long au might say things they would both inevitably regret.

“My entire family thinks we’re together, you know.” Logan commented idely, ignoring the way Roman jerked at jav words. “Or me and Remy are together. Or you and Remy are together and I’m just third-wheeling. They’re too uptight to accept polyamory’s existence or it being valid, but if I did I think they’d assume we’re all together.”

Roman forced a laugh. “Amatonormativity’s wild.”

“It is.” Logan said, but it was offhanded. “Though I admit, all their conversing on the subject around, and sometimes to, me has… confused me a bit.”

“Holy shit, Lo, don’t tell me you think you’re allo.”

“Wha- no, no Roman, I’m still aromantic.”

“Oh.” Roman said lamely before frowning. Au was looking at Logan now, but jav expression was once more unreadable to aur. “Then what’s up?”

Logan laughed nervously, taking jav turn as the one awkwardly watching the pond instead of the other. “Do you recall, a few months ago, when I told you I would be amicable to the idea of us entering into a queerplatonic relationship?”

“Would I forget?”

“You have the figurative memory of a goldfish so, yes, you would.”

Roman chuckled. “Alright, you got me there. But, yes, Lo, I remember.” Au answered directly, hoping au just imagined the shake in aur voice.

“When I told you that, it was because I felt I was- so to speak- in possession of equal platonic and queerplatonic feelings towards you. I did not mind being your friend, nor would I have minded being your partner, because both made me perfectly happy.”

Roman hummed when Logan paused, trying to show au was paying attention without risking something as embarrassing as a voice break.

“Now, I feel as though I still hold equal platonic and queerplatonic feelings towards you. But I’m… uncertain as to which I should be having. I have always been content with considering us to simply be friends, but the words of my family have forced me to take a closer look at what our relationship is, and I feel as if I must reconsider that view.”

“I’m… not sure I completely follow, Lo.” Roman said hesitantly, trying to crush the unsteady flutter of hope in aur chest. Logan was talking about confusion, not making a confession.

Logan took a deep breath before ja turned from the pond to look directly at Roman. “I believe if our relationship continues as it has, sooner rather than later, I will no longer fully feel content to be your friend alone, and instead wish to also be your… your partner.” Jav gaze dropped down to the ground between the two of them. “That is, if that has not happened already.”

Oh. So it was a confession.

Roman didn’t say anything, feeling speechless and breathless all at once. Logan took the unmoving stare and lack of response poorly. “I apologize if you do not feel the same, I truly do not completely expect you too, I do not want to hurt our friendship with my assumptions-”

“No! Logan, no, I-” Roman paused to take a breath, trying not to focus on Logan’s wide-eyes from aur sudden yell. “Oh, gosh, you’re going to hate me.”

“I find that doubtful.” Logan replied evenly, now tilting jav head on its side in curious bewilderment. “Why do you think I would hate you?”

Roman ran a hand through aur hair, looking away from Logan as au did but turning back towards java when au spoke. “Your feelings are completely requited.”

Logan’s eyes widened again, this time in surprise. “You mean-”

“-And they have been for several months.” Roman added, interrupting Logan.

“Since I told you I would be alright being in a QPR with you?”

“Since, uh, since a couple of weeks before that.”

“Oh. Oh!” Logan said, moving from processing to what Roman could only describe as delight. Ja was smiling again, almost giddily, pressing one hand over jav mouth to try and stifle jav laughter.

“Well, now, that’s just rude.” Roman teased lightly, feeling rather giddy aurself. They had both just admitted they wanted to be the other’s partner, after all, so surely that meant-

“I assure you, I’m not laughing at you, just-” Logan laughed again despite jav words, and when ja leaned forward Roman realized ja had scooted closer to aur, jav forehead landing against Roman’s shoulder as ja laughed in a way that suggested less humor and more joy. Roman’s heart soared. “You’re very cute, Roman.”

Roman grinned like that was the best thing au had ever heard even as aur cheeks flushed crimson. “You’re cuter, angel.”

“Ah, petnames.” Logan said, tone warm and content and happy. “Love, dear, darling…”

“Your love, your dear, your darling.” Roman corrected softly, feeling bold. It immediately paid off as Logan tried to press jav face further into Roman’s shoulder, trying to hide the blush Roman knew was covering jav face. “My cutie.”

“Your cutie.” Logan echoed, sounding lovestruck even in just those two words.

Roman pressed a kiss to the top of Logan’s head, smiling growing as Logan giggled. “My cutie, my angel, my beloved, my Logan.”

Logan only giggled more, and Roman beamed, entranced by the sound and more than willing to listen to it for the rest of aur life. “My Roman.” Logan managed to say between jav giggles, oblivious to the bright red flush that had taken over Roman’s face. Au pressed aur head against the top of Logan’s, not necessarily to hide aur blush so much as to be even closer to Logan.

“Please tell me this is what it looks like, because babes, if I have to go one more day watching your sorry asses pine over each other like you’re the only people in the world I’m going to lose it.”

At the sound of Remy’s voice, Roman turned aur head to face her, refusing to remove aur head from on top of Logan’s. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Rem, we’re just two bros pressed up against each other like bros do.”

“Ha ha.” Remy dropped down beside the two of them, flicking some rust off of his nails. “I still can’t believe it took you two five months, a frog pond, and me looking away to finally admit you’re queer as hell for each other.”

“The best things take time.” Logan murmured. “Though, I admit, I would have liked to have been doing this five months ago.”

“Well, maybe if you had admitted you wanted to be my partner earlier, we could’ve gotten here sooner.”

Logan lifted jav face from Roman’s shoulder to level a sweet but disappointed expression at aur. “That is exactly what I did.”

“Yeah, but you said you could go either way.” Roman pointed out, tone light and joking. “You should’ve known that wouldn’t be enough confirmation for me.”

Logan let out a small laugh, shaking jav head, but the look in jav eyes was only fond. “You’re an idiot, love.”

Roman just grinned. “Only because you keep hogging our shared braincell.”

“You can’t be trusted with it.” Logan replied, returning jav head to Roman’s shoulder, seemingly content to leave it there for as long as ja could. “But that is alright, my dear. I will keep it safe for you.”

“Thank you, my angel.” Roman responded, trying and failing to ignore how hot aur cheeks were. There was a simplicity and ease in calling Logan aurs that only confirmed to Roman that this- that them- was always meant to be, but that didn’t make aur immune to blushing about it.

“You two are cute.” Remy commented idly, leaning forward to rest her chin on Logan’s shoulder. Logan didn’t react, clearly used to the motion. “Does this make me a house-wrecker, now?”

“I don’t think you can wreck a house that has only just existed with past actions.” Logan stated thoughtfully.

Roman grinned over Logan’s head at Remy, the solid thrum of adrenaline from one successful squish-turned-partner making aur bold. “Can’t wreck a house you’re a part of, either.”

Though Roman knew Remy would never admit it, his cheeks dusted pink at Roman’s suggestion. “Funny, sugar, very funny.”

“I would not necessarily assume that Roman’s suggestion is meant to be humorous.” Logan said, which Roman could tell made Remy only blush more. “I cannot speak for aur, but I will say that I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to being in a partnership with you as well, Remy.”

“Three is my favorite number.” Roman added, wrapping an arm around Logan’s back to grab one of Remy’s hands.

“You two are going to get me confused.” Remy complained, though she squeezed Roman’s hand, using the grip as an excuse to wrap his arm around Logan’s back as well. “I hope you’re ready to deal with the consequences of that.”

“I’d be more than happy to.” Roman assured her, not bothering to stave off a giddy smile at the thought of having two wonderful partners.

“Indeed.” Logan added, shuffling a bit and forcing Remy to lean closer against java. Remy laughed at the action, but didn’t say anything, only leaning forward to kiss Logan’s cheek before settling down against jav side.

“Well, now, that’s just rude.” Roman teased, getting Remy’s attention. “Don’t I get a kiss too?”

Remy grinned. “Anything for you, hun.” He responded, careful to not crush Logan as she leaned over java and kissed Roman’s cheek. He laughed when Roman’s flush immediately renewed itself, even darker this time. “You knew that was coming.”

“That doesn’t make me prepared!” Roman replied, trying to sound indignant and knowing au was failing horribly. It didn’t help when au impulse shifted over so that au could kiss Remy’s forehead before she could get fully out of range, making it Remy’s turn to blush.

“Oh, that was mean.” Remy mumbled, but given the colour of his face and the slightly strangled way she spoke, Roman got the feeling he didn’t actually mind it much at all.

“Mhmm.” Roman hummed disbelievingly before moving to kiss Logan’s forehead as well, giddy with the knowledge that this was just a thing au could do now.

Logan reacted to Roman’s kiss faster than Roman had expected, leaning up to kiss the tip of aur nose before au could pull away, smiling at Roman. Roman smiled back without a thought. A glance up revealed Remy was smiling softly at the two of them as well, becoming even softer when she caught Roman’s gaze and smiled directly at aur.

Roman reveled in the moment, feeling as though au had never been warmer despite the chill the evening brought with it. With both aur squishes- with both aur partners- held close, Roman felt as if nothing could ever top this moment.

Now all au had to do was make sure Andy and Patton never found out about it.

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