#<- me when i use the dumbest fucking metaphor ever to explain myself

[bucketspammer4life]

reading my old hc posts like

[michiganyass]

Is Sufjan Stevens a murderer ?

Sufjan ended his song about serial killer John Wayne Gacy Jr with the lyrics :

* *« And in my best behavior, I am really just like him. Look underneath the floorboards for the secrets I have hid »*

We are all familiar with that, that's weird but there are interpretations.

That's not the only creepy song, tho :

* *« I want to kill him, I want to cut his brain. And when it’s over, I know I’ll feel OK »* (*Kill*, on *A Sun Came*)

Once again, there are trillions of possible ways to interpret this.

In *A good man is hard to find*, Sufjan refers the short story of the same name by Flannery O'Connor and writes :

* *« Twice when I killed them

They were once at peace

They were once like me »

« So I go to hell, I wait for it »*

(Maybe that's why he considers himself *In the Devil's territory*?)

He obviously adopts the point of view of a character (Misfit), but he is known for using metaphors to reflect himself (he does that often in Illinois).

But there is more in *The Age of Adz*, one of his most personal works.

* *« I’ll set it right between your eyes,

your shoulder blades, your running knife,

I want it all,

I want it all for myself »*

Once again, Suf adopts a point of view, the one of a man killing his lover; but again, this album is very personal and a reflection about his life.

* *« Sufjan, the panic inside, the murdering ghost that you cannot ignore »*

*Vesuvius* seems to describe a struggle about the murderer inside him.

He's got *« Blood on [his] sleeve »* : The song *Drawn to the blood* is probably [about an abusive male relationship](http://genius.com/Sufjan-stevens-drawn-to-the-blood-lyrics) which might have ended in the murder he talks about in *All for myself* (that would also settle the question of his sexuality)

To sum up, Suf was in an abusive relationship and murdered the guy; he "felt OK" right after it but guilty now (as if he was being dragged to hell) and still has murderous instincts (that would actually explain quite a lot...).

Now, I haven't slept in a long time, this is probably the dumbest theory I've ever seen (and I'm the one who wrote it) and these are just out-of-context lyrics, but Suf likes to write and think about himself, subtly dropping autobiographical elements here and there. Gotta admit he writes a lot about killing; I'm sure there are a lot of other songs in the same style (I'll edit if I can think of more). There's probably a lot to say about Impossible Soul, for exemple.

Remember : He's **NOT** fucking around

[javajunkieao3]

Never Have I Ever: Post-Series Fic

Ben Gross prided himself on being smart.  And falling in love with Devi Vishwakumar?  Well, that was just about the dumbest thing he could do.

           But, it happened anyway.

           He didn’t exactly know when, but somewhere between first grade and watching her dance with that tool, Paxton Hall-Yoshida, she had gone from the person he always wanted to beat to someone he genuinely hoped would win.  Because she deserved that.  After everything she went through with her dad and then everything after, she deserved a win.

           But, did that win have to be him?

           “Of course, it’s him,” Ben said, voice colored with defeat and just a hint of indignation.  He still hated losing.  Even if he technically wasn’t in this game.  Aneesa was waiting for him over by the punch.  “It’s always been him.”  

           Beside him, Eleanor said, “What?  No, it hasn’t.  After you took her to Malibu, she wanted to choose you.”

           Ben listened incredulously as Eleanor explained how she and Fabiana had talked Devi out of choosing him.  It was fucked up, and he was going to tell her as much, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Devi, imagining how different things would have been. It would have been him with her, not that glorified meat puppet.

           “So, just for the record, it hasn’t always been him.”

           Eleanor walked off after dropping her figurative bomb and he stayed rooted in place, not knowing what to do or think next.  He wasn’t used to this level of indecisiveness and he probably would have just stayed there, staring at Devi dance with another guy, if Aneesa hadn’t come over, sliding her hand over his shoulder.

           “Hey, I thought you were meeting me over by the punch,” she said, glancing over at where he had just been staring.  “Oh wow, good for Devi.”

           Aneesa looked up at Ben, noting the tense set of his jaw.  “But…you don’t think that.”

           “What?” he said immediately, finally looking away from the slow train wreck happening across the dance floor.  “I don’t care about them.  I mean, he’s a tool who, based on what I’ve seen, can barely read above an eighth grade level.  But, I don’t care.”

           “Uh, yeah, you do.”

           “Aneesa-“

           “Ben, I saw the way you were looking at them. At her.”

           He went to argue, but then realized he had no defense.  Aneesa ducked her chin to her chest.

           “Okay.  So, I guess I’m going to go now.”  She turned to leave, but then stopped, turning back.  “Don’t mess this up for her?”

           He didn’t know what he hated more, the implication that he would mess things up or the fact that Aneesa was maybe a little right. The song ended and he watched Paxton and Devi kiss before Paxton dipped his mouth to her ear.  Devi nodded at whatever he said, and then Paxton walked away, not letting go of her hand until the distance made it necessary.  Devi’s grin widened and Ben hated Paxton even more.

           Devi stood alone on the dance floor for a moment, seeming blissfully content, and then she caught his gaze.  Ben noticed that her grin dimmed slightly and then she walked over, clasping her hands nervously in front of her.

           “Look, I know what you’re going to say,” she began.

           “No, actually, you don’t.”

           She widened her eyes slightly.  “Okay.  Then, what are you going to say?”

           I know you wanted to choose me.

           “I’m happy for you, Devi.”

           It wasn’t what she expected, and not what he wanted, so they both felt out of sorts.  But then her shoulders slackened, a genuine smile spreading on her face, and Ben knew he did the right thing.  Because she deserved the win.  Even if it wasn’t him.

           “Thanks, Ben.”

           Paxton came over with two glasses of punch and handed Devi one, his now free arm going around her waist.  He gave Ben a lukewarm hello which, given their history, wasn’t entirely unfounded.

           “Anyway, I’ll see you around,” Devi said.

           “See you around, David.”

           Paxton looked at him strangely, but Devi only smiled wider.

-----

           There were only a few weeks left in the school year after the dance, and Ben did his best to keep his distance from Devi.  She hovered a bit after learning about his and Aneesa’s breakup, but then they all got busy with finals and then the schoolyear ended.  Ben was grateful for the time apart.  He didn’t know how long it took to fall out of love with someone, but he figured summer break’s three Devi-free-months should do the trick.

           That summer, he lined up a volunteer program to pad his college applications just like every other summer.  He was supposed to help out with pro bono work at his dad’s firm, but at the last minute his dad hired a law clerk instead so that he could bill out his time at a markup.  So, he was stuck with a retirement home.  Everyone volunteered at retirement homes, which meant it was the last thing Ben wanted to put on his resume.  But, there was nothing else left and it was better than nothing, so he grudgingly accepted a spot at one about fifteen minutes from his house and prepared himself for a summer of moth balls and stories about “the war”.

           Instead, he got Devi.

           “I thought you were working at your dad’s firm this summer,” Devi said.

           “Something came up.  Weren’t you supposed to do Habitat for Humanity?”

           Devi nodded.  “I had an incident with a hammer.  Apparently, you aren’t supposed to bedazzle it.”

           Ben smirked.  “You bedazzled your hammer?”

           “Oh, yeah.  I added feathers, too.  Honestly, it was an upgrade.”

           “I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t want to take you,” he mocked.

           Devi shrugged.  “Probably for the best.  I mean, would you want a house built by me?”

           “You make a fair point.”

           “So, here we are,” Devi said.  “Slumming it at the retirement home.”

           “You may want to say that a little louder.  I don’t think the guy in the back with the hearing aid heard you.”

           “But, you know what, if anyone can make the best out this, it’s you and me, Gross.”

           She flashed him a smile and he felt it all the way down to his toes.  This was going to be a long three months.

----

           It turned out, Ben was surprisingly adept at being around old people, and Devi was an immediate crowd pleaser.

           “Even Marvin likes me,” Devi said.  “And I’m pretty sure he’s a low-key racist.”

           “Not that low key.  He specifically asked me to help him fill out a banking form yesterday because, as he put it, your people are good at that.”

           “Damn.  Remind me to not give him an extra pudding cup.”

           One of the long-time residents, Gladys, rolled by with her walker and said, “Benjamin, don’t forget my granddaughter is visiting this afternoon.  I told her all about you.”

           “I won’t forget, Gladys.”

           “Look at you, Benjamin.”  He rolled his eyes.  “Using the residents to get a date.  Honestly, it’s sort of genius.  If I wasn’t dating Paxton, I would totally use these guys to pimp myself out.”

           “Slow down, David.  Gladys came to me about her granddaughter.  I’m not that desperate.  I have options.”

           “Sure, you do, Ben.”

           “But, um, you and Paxton?  That’s going well?”

           He didn’t know why he asked.  You don’t ask the girl you’re in love with how her relationship is going, but he asked, and now he had no choice but to hear the answer.

           “Yeah, it is,” Devi said.  She tucked her hair behind her ears as she smiled, and Ben wished he could sink directly down into the ground.

           “That’s great.”

           “Yeah.  It is.”

           That afternoon, he asked Gladys’ granddaughter out on a date.

----

           Ben could always tell when Devi and Paxton were fighting by her mood.  She had never been good at hiding her emotions, and while in a relationship, that hadn’t changed.  He noticed it a few weeks in.  She went back into the employees’ area and shoved her bag forcefully into the cubby hole.

           “Did the cubby hole do something to you?” he asked.

           “No,” she said stubbornly.  “The cubby hole is doing nothing.  Which is the problem.  The cubby hole just sits there playing video games all day.  Which, sure, I can play some Mario Kart here and there.  I’m a team player.  But, at a certain point, enough with the stupid video games.  I am not dating freaking Yoshi!”

           Ben was quiet for a moment and then said, “I didn’t know a cubby hole had apposable thumbs to play video games.”

           She shot him a look, but then couldn’t help but laugh.

           “The cubby hole was a metaphor.”

           “Yeah, I caught on to that.”

----

           Ben found it remarkably easy to be around her, even as his feelings stayed rooted to the core, and at a certain point he became resigned to it all.  Maybe Devi was just one of those people he would always have feelings for.  Isn’t that what they said about your first love?  You could move on, but you never really forgot it.  So, he would love her and just move on.

           He dated Gladys’ granddaughter, enjoying himself but never really feeling anything beneath surface level.  But, she was nice enough, and Gladys was delighted by the pairing, even as the volunteer coordinator was not.

           “Just don’t have sex anywhere on property,” she had said in a huff.

           “I, uh, won’t.  Thanks for the clarification.”

           He was dating someone else.  He and Devi were finally sort of back to how they were before.  And then he accidentally ate pecans.

           “Oh my God, Ben, your mouth is getting huge,” Devi said, eyes wide with concern.

           “I am so sorry,” Gladys’ granddaughter said. “I thought the muffin was banana-walnut, not banana-pecan.”

           “Do you have an Epi-Pen or something?”  Devi barked at the terrified looking volunteer coordinator.

           “No, and even if we did, I don’t think we can technically use it on a non-resident.”

           “Are you freaking kidding me right now?  Do you see him?”  She pointed at Ben, whose face was rapidly growing in size.  “You know what, I’ll just handle it myself.”

           Devi dragged him out to her car, which was concerning since he knew she only just got her license the week before, and he also knew based on what she told him that her passing was a total fluke.  

           “I think I’d rather go into anaphylactic shock in there,” he said, already turning back toward the retirement home.

           “Don’t be dumb, Ben,” she said, forcefully pulling him back to the car.  “You are not going into anaphylactic shock.  I’ll take you to my mom’s office and she can give you a shot or something. She’s only a few minutes away.”

           He reluctantly got into the car, and Devi started her car, forgetting to put it into reverse before she pressed on the gas. The car lurched forward, nearly hitting the one parked in front of them, and Ben said, “Please don’t let me die in this car.”

           “No one is dying today, Ben Gross.  So, calm down, okay?  I got this.”

           It was not exactly a smooth ride, but true to her word, five minutes later they pulled into a parking spot in front of Dr. Vishwakumar’s office.  They burst into the office, Ben now leaning a bit on Devi as it became harder to breath.

           “I’m pretty sure I’m going into anaphylactic shock,” he gasped.

           “No, you are not.  You are fine.”  Devi’s words were calm, but her tone was not.

           Nalini Vishwakumar walked out of her office and stopped short when she saw Devi and Ben.

           “What in the world – Benjamin, what happened to your face?”

           “He ate pecans which, turns out, he’s also allergic to,” Devi said quickly.  “Can you give him a shot or something?”

           “Devi, you should have taken him to the emergency room!” Nalini said, rushing over to her daughter and Ben and bringing them back to an examination room.

           “The hospital was farther away.”

           Ben became to gasp for breath and Nalini hissed, “He’s going into anaphylactic shock.”

           Ben could barely breathe, but he managed a, “Told you.”

           “Well, how was I supposed to know!”  Devi said loudly.

           One shot of epinephrine and an IV full of antihistamines and cortisone later, Ben could breathe again, but Nilani made him stay for a while longer so that she could observe him.  She put he and Devi in one of the unused examination rooms, and told them to let her know if he had any more trouble breathing.  Devi sat next to him, her knees pulled tight into her chest.

           “I’m sorry that I almost killed you.”

           “You’re not getting valedictorian that easily.”

           He was joking because, yeah, his throat had almost closed up and she probably should have taken him to the hospital and not her mom’s office, but it was fine now.  Except, when he looked over at Devi, she still looked scared.  After a beat, she launched herself toward him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.  

           “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, rubbing her back.  “I’m okay.”

           She pulled away and gave his arm a light punch. “You really scared me.”

           “Yeah, well, next time I’ll double check my banana-walnut muffin actually has walnuts.”

           “And I’ll believe you when you say your throat is closing up.”

           Devi’s phone rang and he saw Paxton’s name flash on the screen.  He asked her, “Do you need to get that?”

           He watched her hesitate before sending it to voicemail.

----

           Devi and Paxton broke up a week later.  He found out from one of the retirement home residents, who he overheard telling Devi, “You’re better off, Devi.  Take it from an old woman.  You have the rest of your life to be with one person.  Now is the time to be free.  Sow your wild oats, if you will.”

           “Um, I don’t really know what that last part means, but I feel you.  I mean, I’m too young and hot to be tied down, right?”

           “Exactly.  You know, I have a grandson you might be interested in.  He’s pre-med.”

           “I appreciate the offer, Beatrice.  And offering me your grandson after I just broke up with my boyfriend?  Savage. But, I think I need to take some time by myself.”

           That afternoon during bingo, Ben casually brought up the breakup after calling out B-27.

           “Are you okay?” he asked.

           “Yeah, I’m okay,” she said.  She ran the machine and picked out the next ball.  “B-13!”  She put the ball down and said in a regular volume voice, “We just didn’t have that much in common.”

           “Yeah, I bet,” Ben said automatically.

           “Wow, okay,” Devi said with a laugh that didn’t exactly sound reassuring.

           “I didn’t mean,..” he trailed off, because he kind of did.  “Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay.”  He paused and picked up the next ball.  “N-7!”

           “Bingo!”

----

           Summer was coming to a close, and so was their time at the retirement home.  For some reason, Ben felt an impending sense of dread.  Sure, he would still see Devi, but it would be different.  Everyone else would be added back to the mix, including Paxton.  

           Their last big event at the retirement home was a movie night.  They set up a projector in one of the recreation rooms and made it up like an old theater, complete with velvet ropes and individual little bags of popcorn. They even wore old-timey usher costumes they rented from a local costume shop.

           “Does yours also smell like nachos?”  Devi asked.

           “Yeah.  I’m trying not to think about it.”

           The movie was It Happened One Night, and Devi and Ben sat in the back, watching the movie along with the residents.  It was secretly one of Ben’s favorites.  He and his mom had spent little time together when he was growing up, but she shared with him her love of old movies.

           It was the Jericho scene, where Clark Gable’s character was setting up a sheet between him and Claudette Colbert in their motel room.  He stripped down to just his undershirt, and Devi mused, “Clark Gable was super bangable.”

           “Shh,” Ben said.  “This is my favorite part.”

           Devi looked over at him and grinned.  Feeling her gaze, he glanced over and felt his breath stop when their eyes met.  They were close, and in the darkness her eyes seemed to glow.  He always thought she had pretty eyes.  Even before, when he hated her more times than he liked her. He felt an urge to lean forward. It would be so easy.  Just the slightest lean and his mouth would be against hers.  But, that would just be a kiss in the back of a dark room.  He wanted more.

           “Eleanor told me that you wanted to choose me after Malibu.”

           She blinked rapidly.  “What?”

           “After you scattered your dad’s ashes.  She said you wanted to choose me, but they made you also consider Paxton.”

           “Okay.”

           “Is that true?”

           Devi didn’t answer, so he kept talking.

           “And she said that you started the rumor about Aneesa because you thought that we were dating and you were jealous.  And, you see, I’ve had it in my mind all this time that it was always Paxton.  And that I was, I don’t know, some detour on the way, but-“

           “You were not a detour,” Devi said immediately. “You were…you were perfect.  And I messed us up.”

           “So, Eleanor was telling the truth?”

           Devi nodded.  “Yeah, she was.”

           Ben took a deep breath.  “Devi.  I’m going to kiss you now.”

           She nodded, all business, but he could hear the nerves in her voice when she said, “Okay.  Thank you for the advanced warning.”

           He leaned in and captured her mouth with his.  The kiss was sweet and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world.  And in a way, they did.  There was a noise behind them, and they pulled apart abruptly.  Their supervisor stood over them and said, "Remember what I said about no sex on property?"

"Are you kidding me right now?"  Devi said.  "Who is having sex in these gross costumes?"

"You'd be surprised."

The supervisor walked away, and Devi looked at Ben.  "You don't think she meant..."

"I think she absolutely did."

"I need to take this off immediately."

[flintsjohn]

If you're taking prompts, would love to read your take on Michael &/or Alex post- getting back together adjusting to normal little couple moments (brushing your teeth together, figuring out who empties the dishwasher, compromising on what you set the AC/heat at for the night etc.)

uhhh this got longer than originally planned but different scenes kept popping up in my head so here we are. cw for a lot of discussions of sexy times, but no actual sex is had. i hope you like this, nonnie!

They get back together in what is, in hindsight, aninevitable turn of events, and this is how it goes.

Alex Manes has never been the jealous type, and that’s anabsolute truth. Even during the brief-but-dramatic whirlwind that had beenMichael and Maria’s relationship, all he’d had the strength for was feeling disappointedthat neither of them had thought to talk to him before – or after – gettingtogether. But it’s fine now, he’s totally over it. The truth is, he’s never hadthe opportunity or the right to bejealous, not even now that he and Michael have been hanging out (as Michael so elegantly put it) and he has slowly butsurely been falling back in love with him.

No, jealousy is not for him. What is for him, however, is protectiveness over his friends, especially Michael, with what he’s gonethrough in his life. That’s why, he explains patiently to a cross-armed andnewly-resurrected (and yes, that’s still entirely too weird) Max Evans, he feltcompletely justified in sucker-punching a douchebag in the middle of the WildPony.

The aforementioned asshole – someone with a fancy name likeHarry or William, acting like he was any better than the other rednecks in town– had been talking shit about Michael since the moment he and Alex had steppedfoot into the bar. At first, Alex had thought it had something to do with agamble, or a past, not completely forgotten fight, but with the way the guy’stone quickly turned lewd, it was soon clear that it had nothing to do with anyof that. And while Michael seemed to tune him out rather quickly, Alex had nosuch luck, especially when the guy started talking directly to him.

“Hey, Manes!” He yelled over the music, clearly alreadydrunk, “Don’t you know you shouldn’t waste any time on Guerin?” Alex tried tobe polite and just side-step him, he really did, trying to ignore the wayMichael’s shoulders had gone tight even though he hadn’t stopped talking toMaria at the bar. The drunkard did not relent, oh no. “Yo, I said, didn’t youhear? He’ll whore it out for anyone, just begging for a co-“

That had been more than enough for Alex. He’d sighed,centered himself, and clocked the guy right in the jaw, sending him sprawlingon the bar floor. That had been when Max had showed up, pushing Alex backtowards the empty hallway as everyone stared wide-eyed at the scene. Not thatthe redirecting had been necessary – Alex was perfectly calm. It hadn’t evenbeen the proof that Michael had been sleeping around – he was under no illusionthat he hadn’t been, because Michael had been perfectly honest about the factthat he was seeing other people, since they weren’t officially dating. No, what had set him off had been the fact thatanyone in this town would have the gutsto speak about Michael like that.

He explains as much in a flat voice to Max, who eventuallyreleases him into Michael’s care with nothing more than a harsh (butmetaphorical) slap on the wrist. Michael, who’s still a little wide-eyed butsmirking at Alex.

“Did you just punch Billy because he was slut-shaming me?”Is what he says when Alex cocks an eyebrow at him. Billy, that’s right, that was the idiot’s name. Alex focuses onthat so he doesn’t have to explain himself all over again. “It’s not like hewas wrong, you know.” Alex balks at that, his forehead creasing as Michaelshrugs, a little self-consciously. “I’m not gonna apologize for liking sex,Alex. I don’t really mind people knowing I do, either. He was just mad becausehe couldn’t get it up with me, I guess.”

That, finally, releases some of the tension that had beenbuilding and building between them all night. Alex snorts and shakes his head,nodding to the exit. They’re quiet as they make their way out and into theparking lot, shoulders brushing together but both lost in their own thoughts.

“I can defend myself, you know,” Michael says as they stopnext to his truck. He has his hands buried in the front pockets of his jeansand is staring at the ground where he’s kicking up dust with the toe of hisboot.

Alex nods, tugging his jacket a little tighter aroundhimself like it will provide some kind of armor. What a stupid thought, really.None of his walls have ever been able to stay up when Michael is around. “Iknow that,” he whispers, looking anywhere but at Michael, “But you shouldn’thave to do it on your own.”

He gives Michael a little smile and an awkward wave andstarts to turn to make his way to his car, but before he can take more than a coupleof steps, Michael is grabbing at his arm with both of his hands and dragginghim back, their mouth smashing together in an uncoordinated kiss that mufflesthe baffled sound Alex makes. It’s so brief that Alex barely has the time tounderstand what’s happening before Michael is drawing back, apology ready onhis lips, which Alex promptly kisses away. They’re both chuckling when theypull apart for a second time, foreheads pressed together as they breathe eachother in.

The easy silence between them finally gives Alex the time toreplay their conversation in the hallway, which is what prompts him to say, “Iwasn’t trying to shame you for liking sex, you know.” Michael only makes aconfused sound at that, not moving an inch. “Before, in the bar. I know you do.Fuck, I love that you do. It doesn’tmean I’ll let people talk about you like that.”

Michael hums and presses his smile against Alex’s cheek, hislips brushing against the stubbly skin as he says “You love that I do, huh?” ina drawl that sounds downright filthy and sends a shiver down Alex’s back thathe tries to dissimulate by shaking his head with a laugh.

“I do, and I love it even more when it’s me you’re having sex with, but if westart that up again now we’ll move too fast and never do that talking part wediscussed-“

“Slow has never really been our thing, darlin’,” Michaelinterrupts him in a whisper, hands moving from Alex’s hips to cup his faceinstead. And Alex… He can’t really argue with that, so he just lets himself bepulled in for another kiss, slow and languid, and he lets himself forget aboutthe world for a while.

It’s not like their relationship suddenly becomes perfectafter that. The first step, the most important for Alex even though Michaellaughs at him, is recognizing that they arein a relationship. They don’t announce it to the world or anything, but theystart casually bringing it up around people, and if somebody asks, they don’trush to deny it. It feels easy in a way that it never has before, and Alexcertainly basks in it.

The second step is accepting that their relationship hasalways been physical, and there’s no need to change that as long as they alsocommunicate. For all the sex Michael’s had in his life, he’s sure he can’tremember a time when he’s talked so much aboutsex, more so than actually having it.They nail down kinks – and hey, he probably should’ve realized sooner he had a massive praise kink, but he’s not goingto touch that with a ten-foot pole – but Alex always makes sure they discussthem before trying them out. Turns out, Michael’s need to be put in his placeevery once in a while is pretty evenly matched with Alex’s need to be incontrol (and yes, the begging does come up, and Michael can’t really complainabout its effects). If sex was epic before, it becomes out of this world – pun intended.

With Alex finally welcoming him into the cabin, Michael alsorediscovers the joys of having sex in an actual bed – a king-sized one, no less.If their hook ups before had been pretty bland – great, yes, but not verycreative – now Michael finds himself having a hard time keeping track of allthe positions they try. It starts when Alex casually brings up not knowing whatMichael’s favorite sex position is – Michael, in turn, insists that he does, and proceeds to show him byenthusiastically riding him right then and there on the cabin’s couch – but itquickly develops into an extensive research of what they can and can’t do withAlex’s leg.

Somewhere along the way, they also learn that: they both getflustered when the other uses a pet name – it’s the cowboy drawl of darlin’ (which Michael hilariouslyalternates with man and dude, without any distinction) for Alex,and anything between baby and love for Michael; Michael’s favoritedate spot is the drive in, where they can cuddle up on the bed of his truckunder the stars, while Alex loves sharing a milkshake at the Crashdown; they’reboth terrible at dancing, though notfor lack of trying; and they’ll agree on few things, chief among them being thatif this is how holding hands and kissing in public feels, they definitelyshould’ve tried it much sooner.

Over anything else, they bicker. They quip and prod andtease each other relentlessly, over the dumbest things, like the fact that Alexprefers wearing shoes up until he gets ready for bed, while Michael would gobarefoot everywhere if he could, or the fact that Alex will try and say thatMichael’s always the one that makes them late, but he’s actually the one who always has just one more thing to finish before leaving. It makes all of theirfriends roll their eyes at them and call them an old married couple, which inturns always sends them into spluttering fits of denial that nobody everbelieves (“Like you haven’t carried an engagement ring in your pocket since theday you met,” Isobel tells Michael, looking down at him with a knowing sniff).

They don’t move thatfast, but Alex does ask Michael to move in with him on their first anniversary (“Theday you fought for my honor”, is what Michael likes to call it, rather than theday they got together) – or, well, they consider it the first, thoughtechnically it’s their twelfth; explaining their relationship always takes abit of math. Living in the cabin together works for all of two weeks beforethey explode into a massive fight. Michael screams about always being oneggshells, asking for permission in a space that should feel like his own; Alexscreams back about Michael not understanding what the cabin means to him, howmuch of a safe haven it’s been since he came back from Iraq. It’s the firsttime they sleep separately since they’ve gotten back together.

Eventually, after spending the next two days glaring at eachother and giving each other the silent treatment like they’re five-year-olds,they compromise on living together, but in a new space that will feel entirely theirs. It takes a while for them tofind the perfect place – closer to town than the cabin so that Alex will get tohis consulting gigs around town without any problem, but on the outskirtsenough that Michael can still get to the junkyard with a minimum hassle;open-spaced and accessible for Alex’s needs, but with at the very least aclosed space for the bedroom, which Michael needs to feel safe after a decadespent in the Airstream.

The game-changer is Isobel offering her help. Unrequited atfirst, it turns out to be indispensable, and in no time they find themselvesmoving into their new place, all accessibility fixtures already installedthanks to Isobel. They are, fortunately, able to talk her out of a grand housewarmingparty, deciding to keep it nice and intimate with just dinner among friends, aweek after they’ve moved in.

It seems like such a cliché, but living together bringsthings up about the other that they wouldn’t have found out in a million years otherwise.Some things, like the fact that Michael will wrap himself around Alex duringthe night, and freak out if he can’t, they had already learned in their yeartogether. He’d been embarrassed by it, at first, never having had someone tostay with him through the night – except that one, memorable time in theairstream – and consequently not having developed a knowledge of his behaviorsin such occasions. At their new place, it’s a given, and it also means that in thesummer Alex will not budge fromhaving the air conditioning on during the night, muttering about how otherwisehe’d die of a heatstroke from Michael’s warmer-than-human body temperature,which, on the other hand, absolutely saves them money in heating during thewinter.

Michael also gets painfully intimate with Alex’s tendencytowards insomnia, caused partly by his PTSD, partly by phantom pains, andpartly by the fact that he just tends to lose himself in his work and becomeunaware of the world around him. On such nights, Michael always wanders out ofbed, sleep-rumpled and rubbing at his eyes, usually to find Alex sitting at thekitchen table, face lighted up by the laptop screen. Sometimes, when he’s tootired to function, Michael will just press a kiss to Alex’s hair and go back tobed. Other nights, like tonight, he wraps his arms around Alex and presses upagainst his back where he’s standing at the counter filling another cup ofcoffee.

“Come back to bed, you’re sleeping on your feet like ahorse,” he mumbles into Alex’s neck, nuzzling at the short hairs at the nape ofhis neck. He hears Alex yawn around a chuckle and smiles.

“I can’t believe you just quoted Brokeback Mountain to me.”

“Hey, I’m totally the New Mexico version of Ennis DelMar,”he quips back, arms tightening just a fraction before he releases Alex withanother quick kiss and goes back to bed. On nights like this, Alex followsquickly, laptop and coffee forgotten in the kitchen as he curls up into thewarmth of Michael’s body.

But they also learn things about each other that their timetogether before that hadn’t been able to teach them. Michael learns that Alexgets borderline OCD when he’s stressed, and he can always tell when he’s aboutto have a breakdown because he starts folding his underwear (which Michaelmakes fun of him for, but only after enough time has passed after he’s talkedAlex down from the ledge).

Alex has to teach Michael, with utter delight, how to use adishwasher (I had three plates in thetrailer, Alex), a washing machine (Laundromatsonly have the one button, what the fuck is this, Alex?), and a drier (The New Mexico air was enough before, why can’tit still be enough, Alex?). For all that Michael grumbles and muttersthrough the instructions, he finds that once he’s learned how to do it – itreally just takes the one try – the tasks are mindless and calming, to thepoint where he’ll offer to do the laundry and load the dishwasher on most days.It works well, because for some reason Michael can’t fathom Alex likes to dustand vacuum and make the bed, so the housework ends up being divided prettyevenly.

There are other, way less innocent things too, of course,because this is still them. The novelty of having sex in an actual bed in ahouse with an actual lock had worn off for Michael after the cabin, but thatdoesn’t mean he doesn’t make a valiant effort to discover more opportunitieshe’d missed living in a trailer. It takes all of three days to christen everyavailable surface in the house and after that, it mostly becomes a competitionbetween them, bringing up new things to try. They’ve mostly run out of newpositions by now, but Michael refuses to let their sex drive dry up becausethey have most decidedly not beentogether long enough for that to happen.

For all that they like spending time together, it stillhelps that they’re both busy with work – and online classes from UNM forMichael – so that they rarely have the urge to smother each other. Michaelfinds that his favorite days are when they curl up around each other on thecouch with a movie and popcorn after a long day. They will, inevitably, bothfall asleep halfway through, and Michael will carry Alex to bed when they wakeup in the middle of the night. Alex will never admit it, but he definitelyfalls a little bit more in love with Michael every time that happens, and willstay curled up in Michael’s arms even when they’re settled in bed.

Somehow, their home also becomes the preferred spot forfamily – because yes, that’s how they both see their little group – gatherings,and one or two of their friends are always around. The one that surprises Alexthe most is Kyle – not that he’s around, per se, because they’ve gone back tobeing the best of friends, but the fact that Michael has learned to love having Kyle around. They’ll sit andwatch baseball games and drink beer, rarely ever talking, but with the kind ofeasy intimacy that always manages to put a smile on Alex’s face. On his part,Alex finds himself spending more and more time with Isobel – something that horrifies Michael at first, because oftheir combined energy, which they obviously use against him whenever they can.Alex has never felt so fancy in his life as when he’s drinking wine in Isobel’skitchen and teaching her how to make lasagne.

So in the end, with the way their home has become the safestplace on Earth for humans and aliens alike, it’s no surprise that that’s wherethey finally propose to each other, at the same time, at Christmas dinner threeyears into their relationship, their friends distracted by variousconversations around the table and by Max and Liz’s twins in turn. In thechaos, nobody pays attention to them leaning into each other, Michaelwhispering marry me into Alex’s ear,followed by a kiss to his cheek. No one pays any mind to Alex drawing back withtears in his eyes, Michael nodding to show he’s serious, and Alex leaning backin to whisper his own proposal against Michael’s lips. They do, however, focus onthem when Michael uses his telekinesis to fly the ring box in from the bedroom,narrowly avoiding driving it into Kyle’s skull, and slips the engagement ringon Alex’s finger while Alex roots around in his pocket (and Michael is giddy with the fact that he’d alsoapparently been planning to do this) to do the same for him. It’s chaos again afterthat, questions raining down on them and being decidedly ignored in favor ofAlex pulling Michael close and kissing him until they forget the world for thenext five minutes or hours.

[davidmann95]

On one level hasn't Byrne's Superman been a smashing success? What other DC character has survived intact since 1986?

Well…I mean, this dude’s done pretty well for himself since 1986 too, I’d say.

I’d say considerably better, given that it was right around when Byrne revamped Superman that this guy beat him in the public eye now and forever, and people were generally satisfied enough with how he turned out that he’s stayed pretty much the same ever since with only a few tweaks - even the full reboot of the New 52 left him close enough to alone that it had to be retroactively established with Zero Year that anything of substance had been changed about him. Superman meanwhile went in the wake of Byrne’s reimagining from striding across the industry as a colossus, the undisputed most popular and lucrative superhero (and I’d say the most artistically successful as well up to that point other than Swamp Thing, the Spirit, and maybe Daredevil, between Moore’s work and Maggin’s novels), to a wistful kitsch afterthought at best, at worst a ‘mistake’ WB has spent decades and hundreds of millions of dollars trying to correct. Obviously there’s much more to what went wrong there than Byrne’s work - I’ve written about it before - but dispensing with politeness for a second for the sake of directness? I 100% think John Byrne bears the blame for Superman’s diminished state over the years as much as any other one person alive. At minimum, he is the closest there is to an embodiment of the most destructive era for the character.

It’s a funny thing; Man of Steel was actually one of my first comics as a kid, and for years I really did love it. Superman was my favorite between picture books, the animated series and the Flesicher shorts my dad had on tape, and I guess that was the closest I had to a big, weighty story with him (it probably didn’t hurt either that my first version of his origin as a kid, The True Story of Superman, was based on it). Batman and Spider-Man eventually took the lead though, and when I really got into Superman again as a teenager and he really became my favorite character, and I reread that in light of what I had come to appreciate about him? It just left me cold. The middle chunk is still a solid little run of superhero adventure comics - even if they get a little checklist-ey - and they’re absolutely gorgeous between Byrne, Giordano, and Ziuko, but the beginning and end, how they establish him as a character, built a foundation I am absolutely willing to say has just not worked, even aside from Superman’s entire journey to heroism turning out to be “boy, I sure did ignore your moral lessons for the first 17 years of my life, mom and dad. I suddenly am The Best Person now though, so I’ll be Superman in arbitrarily-presented secrecy until I reveal myself to the world in plain streetclothes”.

I’ve talked plenty in chunks before about a lot of what didn’t work for me here, but hitting the high points:

* Streamlining the Superman/Clark divide to the point of near-nonexistence with a more ‘normal’ Clark makes sense in the abstract as a way of making him more down-to-earth and understandable, but in practice it removes an indescribable degree of character tension and definition, and also makes Clark relatively boring because he’s exactly like Superman but not doing Superman stuff.

* In an attempt at incorporating Christopher Reeve’s charming, all-loving take, one that hadn’t really been seen in the comics up to that point, Byrne settled on a guy with a decidedly limited emotional scope. While trimming out some of the neuroticism of the Silver Age version was probably a good move, what we ended up with was a Superman who, pleasant as he may have been, didn’t have much range to him beyond calm beneficence, affection, determined seriousness, and the odd moment of sadness/shock where appropriate. He may not have been outright stiff, but he definitely came off less as Your Cool Dad so much as just The Dad. Nice, but not really charming. He’s got a sense of humor, but he’s not exactly down with The Kids™ either. Great coworker, standup Joe, but you couldn’t exactly imagine having much of a conversation with the guy.

* It scaled his world to exactly the wrong degree for an ongoing comics version of the character. I may be onboard with a cosmic Superman, but bringing him closer to square one for a total overhaul makes sense. But instead of taking the logical step of bringing him all the way back to near the Golden Age and having him fight ‘realistic’ threats again, he fought the same array of supervillains as ever. So you got neither the catharsis of a champion of the oppressed battling real-world ills or the awe of a godlike superbeing battling unimaginable perils from beyond the stars; instead he was a very strong (but not too strong, that’d be silly) guy in a generic city who fought bad guys and won, and never struggled too hard in that because again, he’s the clean-cut Superman, so you can never show anything getting too intense. Not that it’s impossible to tell satisfying stories with that setup, Mark Millar did great stuff on a similar scale in Superman Adventures with clever adventure stories, but in practice most writers took the easy out of regular villain brawls - an inevitability for something as long-running as comics with creators not being forced to push themselves in one direction or another - and it ended up a worst-of-all-worlds mix in that regard.

* The soap opera approach of those years led to a ton of what’s commonly regarded as the dumbest stuff for the character, and I think led pretty directly to the neverending crossover setup that’s done so much to hobble him over the last decade. And when that approach ostensibly driven by emotional drama was paired with the reduction of internal conflict in Clark himself, I think the attempts at forcing that necessary conflict again while staying in line with how Byrne had established things ultimately led to a lot of the hand-wringing “What does it truly mean…for me to be…a…Superman?” moping of the last twenty years.

* Much like its years-later namesake, this version of Superman pushes a fairly hardline assimilation take on his relationship with his heritage where the place he came from was bad and wrong, and the climax of what emotional journey he has is embracing his status as a real human/American, which cuts out a lot of the idea of him as an alienated figure showing us to accept the strange and different. It also hasn’t particularly aged well in how blatant it is as an 80s Cold War metaphor: there sure is a lot of talk about how the Kents imagined the cold, isolationist, inhuman, deservedly-doomed-to-die place Clark came from might have been Russia.

* It’s the first set of Superman comics to start to internalize in a big way the idea that Superman, or at least most of the mythology of his world, is silly and dumb and need to be fixed, even as creators wanted to bring all the fun old stuff back, squaring that circle by way of making everything either tremendously more boring or infinitely dumber. A square world is stupid, Bizarro’s just a sad grunting Frankenstein who dies in his first appearance now. Invulnerable? That makes no physical sense, so he’s got a forcefield, that somehow totally explains it all. He’s gotta truly be the sole survivor of Krypton now, that’s heavy and realistic, but what about Supergirl? Well, she’s, ah, a fire-angel protoplasmic clone of Lana Lang from a pocket universe. Sure. Also Brainiac’s a carny possessed by/possibly hallucinating the classic villain. And later on, following in those footsteps, Krypto’s from a fake Phantom Zone Krypton, and Kandor has no Kryptonians, and there were no other Kryptonian survivors because of genetic manipulation by a nationalist Kryptonian supercomputer, and the Supermen Red and Blue were electric energy beings brought about to fight the Millennium Giants, and Toyman’s a pedophilic serial killer, and Zod’s a mutant dictator in power armor who absorbs red sunlight and may be in telepathic communion with the original character. Yes, all that’s dribbling fucking idiocy removing every ounce of charm from the basic concepts with almost surgical precision, but at least it’s all quite serious.

I know Byrne’s era has a ton of support - it’s an 80s soap opera comic, those tended to accumulate die-hard fans. I understand it was better from a craft perspective than its immediate predecessors, since the Superman titles had been intentionally kept in a holding pattern (except for Moore’s work) of simple adventure stories as introductory stuff for kids. I imagine the focus on his personal relationships did a lot for people, it introduced a handful of genuinely good ideas (Wolfman’s corporate baron Luthor ended up meshing well with the best of the established take, and him drinking in solar radiation over time to explain his changing powers was inspired, for instance), and this particular brand of smoothed-out clean-cut pleasant superheroism is easy to look back on as a brighter, lighter time. But it was a creative dead zone - just about every major beloved Superman story either came before this period, or after its influence notably started to wane. And boy did it wane: people have been trying to reboot away from this thing constantly, over and over again, restoring every old element Byrne and company discarded. There have been three major origin reboots in the last decade-and-a-half, each farther away from the last, with Mark Waid (one of Byrne’s loudest critics for decades) bringing back the conceptual baseline stuff Byrne had missed in Birthright, Geoff Johns bringing back all the Silver Age mythology he could, and Grant Morrison (who while appreciative of aspects of Byrne’s take, also commented it had a “whiff of prefab plastic smugness”) pulling things all the way back to the Golden Age. And, with absolutely no caveats, Waid and Morrison’s word on Superman carries more weight than Byrne’s ever will. DC’s finally tried going back to Byrne’s version lately to grab on nostalgia dollars, and they’re even rebooting away from that next month less than a year after it began in earnest.

Obviously, Superman’s comics can only have so much impact on his public profile at this point. But Byrne’s ‘clean slate’ constricted possibilities and character, deadened the titles creatively for years, threw the line into a constant state of chaotic push-pull between creators who love essentially two different characters calling themselves Superman, and judging by how Superman’s lagged behind in other media since then, failed to inspire much in those charged with bringing his adventures to a larger audience, poisoning the brand far beyond the people still picking up his regular printed adventures. The film that did bring major aspects of Byrne’s vision to a larger audience in Man of Steel was…well, it was Man of Steel. Love it or hate it, there’s no argument to be made that the world broadly accepted it as an iconic, recognizable take on the character.

And that’s why, petty as it may be, I’ll always smile when I remember that Dick Giordano once pulled Byrne aside to explain to him "You have to realize there are now two Supermen – the one you do and the one we license.“ Still damn good art though.