#eternal gay disasters

[theeminentlyimpractical]

I love that, given the new [spoiler] info, Crowley has evidently been monkey’s paw-ing himself since before Time began.

2008 Crowley: shuts down cell phone network 2008 Crowley: hey Siri, call Aziraphale 2008 Crowley: FUCK

Angel Crowley: convinces God to change her Great Plan to an Ineffable Plan to extend the life of the Universe Angel Crowley: So we're cool right? I get to stay in Heaven for my role in this Ineffable Plan? AngelDemon Crawley: FUCK

[empty-movement]

Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection

IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.

Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?

This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 

It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 

What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:

Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.

Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.

Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 

I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!

We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha

* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM

You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!

I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D

If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!

** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 

I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)

[extraaa-30]

Why soft dom Aziraphale + bratty sub Crowley appeals to me

(be serious though they're both switches)*

Soft Dom Aziraphale

1. heaven

An angel is supposed to be the pure one, undefiled, meek, following orders without question, the girl to be got, the prize to be sought after, the white to be soiled. Subvert it! Aziraphale shouldn't be confined to an eternity of zero agency, naivety, and bland pastels. The idea of Aziraphale getting to really own his "bastard" side, getting to be "selfish," be demanding, be in control--delightful.

And, Aziraphale has guilt complexes on his guilt complexes. Because, unlike most of humanity, he is intimately aware of the righteous, pitiless violence that heaven is capable of. And he's made an art of subtly and ceaselessly defying it by being gentle, by demonstrating enormous restraint. He is a warrior who gave away his holy sword. He swerves severely in the direction of being reserved, harmless, feels clear guilt about any strong desires or direct asks. He has an obvious anxiety about excess (the mental acrobatics he does to justify his book collection, for example, are an entire circus). Free him from the fear of going too far!

2. the effeminate gay man

Thee Southern Pansy, "gay as a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide," with the fancy clothes and prim and proper aesthetic, ever the damsel in distress, flamboyant and limp-wristed, the one who is called slurs by children, the one who is sunshine and sweetness, "the nice one."

Except we know he is secretly a bastard! We know this bitch has preferences! Let him own that! The fact that he is effeminate should not automatically make him more submissive I literally hate that. On the inside Aziraphale is cunty and commanding and he should get to be!

3. with Crowley

Let him say what he craves directly so help me god! No double-speak, no games, no lustfully looking but then looking away immediately. Let him consume. Let him indulge in the gluttony he endlessly flirts with yet denies himself out of guilt and fear. The idea of Aziraphale as a gentle dom just seems so healing, like a puzzle piece that finally gets to click into place without shame.

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

Bratty Sub Crowley

1. hell

A demon is supposed to be the impure one, the defiler, the temptress, the seducer, the villain who takes, the black that soils. Subvert it! Crowley shouldn't be confined to the tropes of his demonic nature. He does not just take, just ruin. He is not inherently the one with experience while Aziraphale is the naive, pure little virgin. The idea of him being submissive to an angel (well...to this angel) is a delicious way to challenge that narrative.

And oh my god my girl has trust issues. As a demon his mentality is severely no allies, watch your back, the one who was cast out, rejected for a first offense, shaky ground, always in danger. He's not supposed to trust others, and he has legit biblically valid reasons to be wary and paranoid. Free him from the fear of trusting someone else to take control!

2. Mr. Cool

Mr. Bond, suave, smooth, stoic, sharp angles, stylish and slick, so very dangerous and criminal, the one with the car, the rebel, the snake. Compared with Aziraphale, he's supposed to be Mr. Hardass, "not nice."

Except we know he is secretly a disaster twink, 110% a soft sad little loser under that facade (and not buried that deep either)! He is a romantic who, in spite of hell, wants to give his angel chocolates! Let him own that!

3. with Aziraphale

Let him be unequivocally, unambiguously wanted oh my god! No guessing games! No trying to decipher what the fuck Aziraphale is really saying to him! Free him from the fear of always being "too fast" or "too late." All this bitch wants is for Aziraphale to be pleased by him, by Anthony J-acts-of-service Crowley! The idea of finally allowing him that...another puzzle piece. So satisfying and healing and safe.

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

*They're switches your honor

1. "our side"

Not heaven, not hell. Not angels or demons. Not all black or all white. If you think they don't switch, you're wrong.

2. weight & gender

Aziraphale is bigger and keeps his hair short and has a steadiness to him and all those things are perceived as more masculine by some and therefore stronger and more dominant. Fuck that! His size also is too often viewed as something unattractive, which--extremely fuck that. My boy is a treat and a catch. He should get to feel pretty and soft in a totally uncomplicated way as often as he goddamn wants.

Crowley is skinny, often has longer hair, has an absolute treasure hoard of gender, and there's a flightiness to him that's perceived as more feminine by some and therefore weaker and more submissive. Again I say fuck that! His slimness likewise is too often viewed as more desirable, more malleable and able to be cowed; to which I say: die! He is no dainty flower. He actually can often be commanding and capable. Take him seriously.

Furthermore: Aside from the obvious fact that weight, gender, and d/s all have jack shit to do with each other, subverting these tropes remains as important as subverting the other ones. Aziraphale should get to feel delicate and wanted just as much as Crowley. And Crowley should get to feel powerful and in control just as much as Aziraphale. To deny either of them those experiences...bad! Shut up!

3. Crowley & Aziraphale

Their dynamic is already basically gentle dom Aziraphale & bratty sub Crowley. Like literally inches below the surface lmao it's not that hard to spot (see: Az pouts about paint on his jacket, Crowley instantly rushes to fix it but in a cunty way; Crowley pins Az to a wall and Az isn't even slightly intimidated or out of control).

The problem is, they're not talking (see: Az can't ask directly; Crowley has to act tough). Which is why I personally feel that a more honest d/s dynamic, with all that unspoken ritual out in the open, would be an enormous relief for them.

That said, it's not fair to confine them to that familiar dynamic! Crowley isn't a sad wet rat all the time-- let him plan things and have them work out for once. Let him be (on purpose lol) successfully seductive! Likewise Aziraphale deserves to let his fucking hair down. Let my girl not have to do everything in this goddamn house! He deserves to not have to be the one in control all the time. He has trust issues just as deep as Crowley's, and equally deserves to feel safe and wanted.

Also Aziraphale is too much of a hedonist to not want to try everything. If you think he's sticking with one dynamic you are a fool. A clown. As my French-speaking 6,000 year old middle aged babygirl would say: an imbécile.

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

I wrote this for me, but if you read this far I hope you enjoyed it lol peace & love on planet earth

[ohanny]

things that i need happen once chen yi and ai di get their happy ending:

chen yi walking in on ai di hugging the cursed pillow. ai di telling him to shut the fuck up if he wants to get dick ever again and chen yi backing away with his hands raised in surrender.

xiao jie laying curled up on the couch, head on his girlfriend's lap, disassociating due to what he walked in on happening on the big table in the garage.

possessive gremlin ai di staking his claim in front of boss-daddy while chen yi is completely clueless. followed by boss-daddy and his henchman-lover having mature fancy adult wine dinner chuckling how it "took those two long enough"

bonus points if this claim staking involves ai di doing unspeakable things to chen yi in the milky white gay soup of doom in the leopard print bath house.

us finding out chen yi's chain necklace doubles up as a leash.

grumpy morning ai di shambling to get his coffee in chen yi's t-shirt which falls on him like a dress.

chen yi showing to work in one of ai di's colorful sweaters - that while oversized on ai di, fit him perfectly - making it halfway through a speech before pausing, wondering why everyone is so quiet. "it's just that... you're wearing a lot of pink" xiao jie whispers, in awe. "it's laundry day" chen yi answers, dead pan. "now where were we?"

the first birthday they share and chen yi actually using his one brain cell for romance (encouraged by the eternal patience and grace of zong yi) deciding to bake ai di a cake. it's a disaster. ai di eats a slice anyway despite having eggshells crunching between his teeth. he totally does not cry.

after brooding in the corner all night, once the bar closes, chen yi lifting ai di up onto the bar counter, calling him a fucking tease and proceeding to do some very unhygienic things.

chen yi helping ai di bleach his hair.

[determinate-negation]

But everybody I spoke to in Vienna showed an honest unconcern. They invited each other to full-dress parties (little thinking that they would soon be wearing prisoner's clothes in a concentration camp), they were lavish customers at Christmas for their beautiful homes (little thinking that in a few months they would be confiscated and plundered). And this eternal gay unconcern of old Vienna which I had formerly so much loved and which, as a matter of fact, I am always redreaming, this gay unconcern which Vienna's poet laureate Anzengruber once caught concisely in Es kann Dir nix g'schehn- for the first time it gave me pain. In the last analysis it seems likely that they were wiser than I, all those friends in Vienna, because they suffered everything only when it really happened, whereas I had already suffered the disaster in advance in my fantasy, and then again when it became reality. In any event, I no longer understood them and could not make myself understood by them. I stopped warning people after the second day. Why disturb people who do not wish to be disturbed?

It is not a decorative afterthought but the sober truth when I say that in those last two days in Vienna I looked at all the familiar streets, every church, every park, every hidden corner of my native city, with a despairing, silent "nevermore." I embraced my mother with the secret thought, "It is the last time." I reached to everything in the city, in the land, with this "never again," knowing that it was a farewell, a farewell for ever. I passed through Salzburg where stood the house in which I had worked for twenty years without even getting off at the station. I could have seen my house on the hill from the train window, with all its memories of faded years. But I did not look. What was the use? I would never again occupy it. And the moment when the train rolled across the Austrian border I knew, as did Lot in the Bible, that all that I had left behind was dust and ashes, a past frozen to a pillar of salt.

Stefan Zweig, The World of Yesterday

[vaguely-concerned]

I’m on a Star Wars books roll so here we go with my — unhinged thanks for asking! — thoughts on Dooku: Jedi Lost, specifically the audio play. Short version: I fucking loved this one! For maximum emotional devastation, pair with Master and Apprentice and Padawan the way my stupid ass did and then be sad about it forever I guess that's what I’m going to have to do.

 Long (LONG oopsie) version:

- So. First of all, let’s get the most important thing out of the way on this here old man yaoi website. We all agree dooku and sifo dyas explored each other’s bodies right. Or at least definitely would have if not for the laws of this order etc., potentially. That’s not just me. Good. Thank you. We can now move on 

- Secondly. Well. Guess I’m just going to be inconsolable about Sifo-Dyas forever now. I miss the days in which he was just a throwaway line in AotC spawned by a random misspelling to me, rather than an eternal raw aching wound in my heart

- poor poor ventress just reading through all the proof that dooku absolutely does have it in him to be a good dad I mean master and just — idk got tired of that and went the force lightning route with her. I love the move of having her dead master hang out with her all that time as well (having her slip up and refer to ‘us’ did something to me, god this is so sad. Is he actually there in spirit or is it just her grief dreaming him up because dooku is awful and cold as a cliff  wall and she needs some kind of attachment figure even if she’ll have to reinvent him herself, rebuild him word for word, gesture by gesture. Pain. sorry about your terrible track record with father figures asajj) 

- Lene: (About Averross): He hasn’t changed. 

Dooku: (In the warmest fondest voice you ever heard) And I hope he never does

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MYSELF? MUST I SET MYSELF ON FIRE TO ESCAPE THE PAIN???

Another strong showing for Rael in general, btw. He’s so warm and charming as a presence even though he’s also a little chaos gremlin. (He’s quite similar to how Sifo-Dyas was when he was young in some ways, I can definitely start to see what Dooku responds warmly to in terms of character traits.) 

- the fact that good ol’ sheev showed an interest in rael, dooku and anakin… interesting huh! He’s just got a soft spot for the disaster lineage I suppose, maybe there’s an element there of luring yoda’s most direct lineage into the dirt with him without yoda even noticing for the longest time. Also cackling at the idea that he looked at qui-gon ‘too fucking stubborn and insufferable to fall to the dark side out of sheer spite’ jinn and went ‘...not that one tho’ fhdskjfa. And obi-wan is more like ‘that one blorbo all my little guys seem wild about but I just don’t get it guys’ 

IF rael’s refusal to join dooku at the end of ‘master and apprentice’ is the last word (which I am not convinced of ;___; be safe cowboy jedi we never see in mainline canon so far), then he’s the only one who has dodged palpatine’s attentions. Wonderful if true love that for him

ALSO rael is one of the few people we know to be on (or at least to consider himself on despite what palps might think lol) first name basis with palpatine. Hilarious. I concur with dooku never change rael 

- Sifo-Dyas: That’s insane. 

Dooku, deadpan: Yes.

Sifo-Dyas: The worst plan I’ve ever heard.

Dooku, somehow even more deadpan: Most probably. 

Sifo-Dyas: I’m in. 

Crying… weeping and dying………… what if someone could have helped sifo with his unfortunate prophecy propensity and they hadn’t drifted apart. Clone Wars averted methinks if dooku still ended up leaving the order he would have been too busy having tender gay sex with the love of his life (and only person who can call him out on his shit and have him actually listen) to be a war criminal (I am being extremely facetious of course this is very much a ‘time traveler killing baby hitler’ situation where the underlying forces causing this point in history are way too powerful to avert the catastrophe in one move. but at least palps would probably have had to pick someone else to wreck the galaxy through and sifo-dyas would be kissed & held instead of going slowly mad. A net plus some (I, me) would say) 

- I just wanted to applaud both the writing and the voice acting for the characterization of Dooku in this, from his young self trying so hard to be haughty and self-possessed but also being like, y’know, twelve and a dweeb and easy for Sifo-Dyas to pull into trouble, to the dry wit and warmth he shows with Rael and Qui-Gon or his sister later. It took me a little while to get into the voice acting specifically (the actor makes no attempt at going the full Christopher Lee, which in hindsight was probably wise), but now I love it. It gets a bit goofy in places but you know what, I am a long time lover of audio plays, that’s part of the charm 

- “Master, have I done something wrong?”

My heart is clenching… do you think… that master yoda’s deal with leaving his student to try fucking everything to have some kind of relationship with him until he just breaks down in tears of despair… is the kind of thing that maybe started a little bit of a generational trauma cartwheel through the ages. The point that bb!dooku is arrogant isn’t without merit and he strikes out incredibly ungracefully about it (in fact I would be a lot more worried than yoda seems to be that he decides to try to kill a tree about it, ‘I felt like destroying something beautiful’-style)  but I just don’t think a… fourteen year old? A teen anyway, Is going to learn what you think he learns from this. I simply don’t believe that silent treatmenting kids will teach them emotional intelligence I guess especially if they already struggle with that naturally lol 

(It is exactly the same mistake (in my opinion) that Qui-Gon makes with Obi-Wan, too, just leaving the kid completely alone and forcing them to come to you every which way for comfort or guidance instead of meeting them or reaching out to them. Especially once you see that really Dooku’s prime emotion/big core wound right from the beginning is loneliness. And that doesn’t only come from a feeling of superiority (which to be sure is also a big factor), because he has no idea where he comes from until he meets his sister. I don’t think the jedi as a whole were unsalvageable by any stretch of the imagination, but Yoda specifically… you are on such very thin ice with me at this point you little green fuck. You’re very funny and moving in yoda dark rendezvous and that’s all that’s keeping you in my somewhat good graces.)

- Okay, coming back a bit later I think I’ve found the right words to say this. more precisely dooku has two big issues which you can later see haunting all the way down his lineage — loneliness and control. (and not incidentally the intersecting elements of the two haha.) We see from his relationship to sifo-dyas that he’s not incapable of having close mutual relationships with an equal, but that kind of crashed and burned for reasons neither of them could really help and after that it seems quite telling that he has the easiest time with deeper connection in a teacher-student sort of form. I think his affection is unconditional and real, but you can’t get away from the fact that he also has the most control in that relationship structure by default, he gets to dictate what form it takes to a big extent. He doesn’t trust other people — the underlying idea ‘Only I can do this’ that eventually leads him down the Separatist path is there the whole way. It speaks both to a sense of superiority and an utter lack of faith that other people can or will help him. And then that echoes down through the master-padawan line: 

Qui-Gon with his self-righteousness and utter refusal to compromise leaving him isolated among the jedi (only he is right. Yeah the Force told him so. Don’t worry I’ve got a permit *insert parks and rec I can do whatever I want meme here*), Obi-Wan with his anxiety and perfectionism and incredible sense of shame and responsibility that he should be able to carry the whole world on his shoulders alone and beating himself up for failing, all feeding into not knowing what to do with Anakin and his complete lack of control of himself and his desperation to gain and maintain connection and love (which earns him the title of ‘Dooku’s least favorite family member’ fhdsa his immediate disdain for him is so funny and so in character. Repress and go slowly mad like a normal person anakin the way you’re carrying on is just undignified and that is much worse than being evil)… 

- Rael gently telling Dooku to take on another padawan soon… so sweet, so sad, local cowboy jedi looking out for his dad. Also highlights something about Dooku I think is true: that he does much better and seems to have an easier time holding to the light when he’s responsible for someone else. Again, I do feel like Dooku’s core problem is loneliness, but it seems like raising kids is the one point where that relaxes somewhat. Maybe if Sifo-Dyas had stayed in a better mental place and they kept in touch it could have been different.

- Lene Kostana is SUCH a character! Charismatic and deeply fucked up, when it’s revealed how her and Sifo-Dyas’ relationship remains long after his padawan stage is done I felt a little bit sick, to my surprise. Because that could just be kindness on her part, of course, it’s good that he has someone he trusts to look after him when he can’t himself, but also there’s something… queasy about the way it keeps him continually young, in a way. (Notably he still calls her ‘master’ even as an adult, when they’re working together. Not uncommon in Star Wars, of course, but together with everything else going on vibes-wise… hm.) The inherent unreliable narration of this story really worked for me in this regard especially — do we know that young Dooku was entirely wrong when he sensed the dark side in her? She certainly is willing to go to lengths that are… worrying! in her fascination with sith shit, she tempted children into a dangerous place they didn’t understand and couldn’t know the consequences of and she continually puts sifo-dyas in situations that are implied to be a risk to worsening his condition. Run of the mill incredibly irresponsible at best, sincerely sinister at worst. Did she choose Sifo over Dooku because he’s more vulnerable and shapeable? There is an undercurrent of something icky and emotionally incest-y going on with how she relates to Dooku and Sifo-Dyas in general (right down to the ‘NO, no one can know about this’ intensity after the… evil moss cave. I can’t believe I’m this emotional about a book with an evil moss cave). I don’t think she’s a proper sith in any way and I also believe there is real affection there on all sides, but idk something about the whole thing makes me deeply uneasy. Yoda where the fuck are you your son is out there with his irresponsible mom again they’re looking for dirty needles in haystacks and they’re not even wearing any gloves

- dooku telling sifo-dyas he can come back to haunt him if he likes as a joke… well well well I’m sure that doesn’t ring with some dramatic irony at some point down the line lmao

- honestly looking back at master and apprentice after reading jedi lost makes qui-gon's apparent lack of reaction to dooku leaving seem — let's call it highly suspect haha. rael asks him if he's spoken to dooku after and qui-gon is like 'no. why would I. it's literally fine. anyway this topic is done now'. (and rael seems to just go ‘*older brotherly knowing* uh-huh’) meanwhile he's thinking about dooku *all the time* trying to figure out his role as master to obi-wan, thinking about being a padawan himself, the parts of his life he shared with both dooku and rael. The jedi doth protest too much methinks  

ALSO how much of qui-gon thinking the council was too lenient with rael after he had to kill his padawan is about that actual situation, and how much is a ‘our family still likes my older brother more than me even though he Fucked Up so bad and breaks just as many rules as I do’ sort of deal mixed with his own neuroses about how he’s failing obi-wan (to which rael’s situation symbolizes the worst possible outcome, i.e. the kid dies and it’s basically your fault). Many thoughts. 

- moment of silence for jenza of house serenno. Girl your only sin was being surrounded by asshole male family members and I’m so sorry I think you did all you could with what you had to work with here.

Not… entirely sure how dooku’s claim to the title supersedes hers — is he a year older than her? (she’s eleven when they first meet, he might be twelve or older at that point I don’t remember haha) Does she just give up her place in the inheritance order? Are primogeniture and male heir preference factors in Serenno inheritance law? Not the most important thing honestly it works anyway thematically but could have been clarified quickly!

- interesting to see that the council’s restrictive policy against engaging with prophecies had a surprisingly big impact on how things went down. Kostana has a lot of responsibility in Sifo’s fate for insisting he keep it secret, but there is genuine fear for what might become of him if the rest of the order finds out he’s got 24/7 futurevision hovering over him threateningly… listen it’s not like the poor guy can help getting the future constantly pumped into his brain at nightmare resolutions, I think maybe if there had been more willingness to at least engage curiously with the concept of prophecy and how it works, even if you don’t put your faith in the particulars of what the prophecies say, this wouldn’t have had to be such a shitty isolated secretive life for him. hearing him slowly fall apart over the years considering how bright and lovely he started out... oof is all I can say 

- when dooku was a good jedi he was such a good jedi!!! The scene where they’re saving the kids from the collapsing hospital, every time he teaches his students anything…the impulse of someone has to do something about this! that made him so good at saving lives turning dark with the tarnish of frustration and rage over the years… nooooooooo problematic grandpa why did it have to be like this :(

- …do you think infant jedi can sense what’s going on around them in the Force. Because it makes a very sad kind of sense if dooku on some level remembers bodily or in the Force that he was not only abandoned but rejected in disgust as one of the first things he discovered in the world. Oh boy. With all the ways attachment relationships can go wonky in the first few years in real life I don’t even want to consider how much more wrong it can go when the baby is fucking psychic lol

- vaguely related: the way dooku seems to find the very idea of being truly reliant on anyone, emotionally or otherwise, personally offensive, terrifying and humiliating lol. Yoda saves him from being crushed by rubble and he is outraged because that means he can’t save himself (and his newfound sister) without anyone’s help like he thought for one glorious moment he could. The fantasy of perfect emotional self-sufficiency, doing away with all the messiness and risk of interpersonal relationships and cutting off the possibility of really being abandoned again. It’ll get ya every time. This is also a thing you see reflected in his lineage — they’re all quite inward-turning that way until you get to anakin, to different extents and with varying presentations but it is there I think. Qui-Gon turns to the Force, Obi-Wan to perfectionism and shame and rumination, Rael to the bottle and depression and hedonistic apathy, but they all struggle hugely with letting anyone in to help them. Dooku’s line are all much more comfortable being the helpers rather than the helpees, as it were.  

- “Thank you for everything, Lene. Tell Rael and Qui-Gon — tell them… tell them the Force will be with them, always”

Emotional terrorism against me specifically and personally. You asshole you just excused yourself from the non-attachment rules there’s literally nothing in the world except you to stop you from reaching out and telling your children you love them yOURSELF why are you like this

- the recurring theme of dooku seeing something beautiful (the tree in the temple, the tirra’taka as a child and an adult) and ending up lashing out to destroy it… but the tree was old and mighty and he was young and new and couldn’t truly harm it, so he was saved from his own impulsivity. And then when he sees the tirra’taka as an adult he loves it immediately. And in the end he still mangles and destroys it. He didn’t mean to, but he did. He woke it up and hurt it just by existing as a child and then he had to kill it as a mercy because he was too powerful at that point for anything to buffer his mistakes. The parallel with the bird he loved that he also couldn’t protect. He starts out with an aching loneliness somewhere at the core of him through no real fault of his own but by the end it is entirely his own fault that it’s worse, because he starts wrecking everything he loves in an almost absent-minded but definitely intentional way, like it’s a nightmare he’s listening to through the door as it happens in the next room over. He really IS the ‘I just felt like destroying something beautiful’ central of the jedi.

at the end qui-gon is dead and through dooku’s own influence, however indirectly. Rael has had to turn away from him. Sifo-Dyas is dead on Dooku’s own orders and so is his sister, he might as well have done it with his own hands. (though I think it’s very interesting that in each case he didn’t do it with his own hands, he consistently uses a middleman.) He lives within the coldness of his sterile empty castle and horrifically mistreats the one person he might have found something like connection with the way he did with his students before (Ventress), deliberately trapping her in a similar state of utter desolate isolation and telling her, essentially, ‘We’re like this as people and nothing can be done to change it. We can’t escape, we’re already doomed, stop trying, it’s too late. You are just like me (and if you aren't already I'll make you like me)’. And that’s the closest thing he gets to love anymore. When he accused Ky of using her ‘as a salve for his own loneliness’ and you’re like well well well mr projection man how’s that working out for you. He is completely, shatteringly alone and he is so entirely as a consequence of his own actions and he's too far gone to understand or care. I’m howling you useless fucking FOOL dooku  

- dooku 🤝 john gaius

“Hm. I have observed that there are in fact many flaws in our society and the government is deeply corrupt. So if I kill a few billion people here and there in order to fix it, is that not basically okay when you really think about it” 

Dooku making salient points about the political and ethical failures of the Republic and then, just when you think he’s onto something, he goes and makes The wildest fucking decisions about what to do about it. Sure. dark magic and genocide are probably the only ways out of this you’re so right bro. If we make enough minuses to add together surely we’ll end up in plus sooner or later

- *head in my hands once more* I can’t believe I am genuinely emotionally invested in someone called Count Dooku with the looks of a knockoff dracula and ultimate moral character to match right now this is terrible. hey. hey dooks. what you have to go and fuck everything up so bad for huh I’m so incredibly sad now

there is something to be said about how getting to see glimpses of what dooku looked like in the light makes it so much more heartwrenching that he never came back. he could have, a thousand times. and every time he chose not to.

[theroundbartable]

Okay, if you were asked who are in Merlin BBC & Voltron that you can see based on canon that are gay/bi/pan/demi, which characters are they? Why?

What a fun ask I'm totally not doing to procastinate on cooking... XD

BBC Merlin

Arthur Pendragon is, in my head, demiromantic and bisexual... It sort of depends on the circumstances/episode. Arthur needs a very long time to really feel connections with people and only starts to consider love after he really gets to know them, hence his constant search for true love in the show. With Merlin I'm not entirely sure if he was attracted to him instantly, strangely enough feeling a connection from the moment they met, or if it takes him till the end of the series when Merlin confesses his magic and finally shows his true self to realise the depth of his feelings.

Merlin is, well... Bi Bi Bi. A disaster bi in fact. With a preference for sweaty men in metal boxes, he's not very peculiar. However, Merlin is a one person hyperfixation kind of guy. Most people are convinced that Merlin's gay.

Gwen: I feel like most people in BBC Merlin are bi and Gwen is no exception. Like Merlin, she prefers the hero type in metal uniforms. But she also had a thing for Morgana in the beginning.

Morgana: lesbian. I have never seen a woman so disinterested in men, I'm not surprised that they casted Katie McGrath in supergirl as supergirls love interest. I might settle for homoromantic and asexual. But definitly in love with Gwen in the very beginning.

Sir Leon, my beloved, the immortal, the one and only, the eternal suffering aro/ace. I don't have to explain this one. The only counter moment is the Lamia episode where Leon suddenly develops interest in women out of nowhere. My personal take is that anyone could be fallen under a Lamia's spell, this one just had a taste for men (and male presenting).

Sir Elian: once upon a time I clocked them as nonbinary and sadly that's as far as I thought into this character. Pretty sure he's aromantic. He/they pronouns. I dunno, I don't think Elian would conform to anything if given a choice. Aromantic too, I think. Like Leon, there is no interest there, but he does play around with Percival and Gwaine quite often, so I'd take that as allosexual.

I am excluding Gwaine because I think canon Gwaine is written as a straight oblivious fuckboy. Albeit a kind one XD fanon Gwaine is often poly/ pan... Or into apples. Lmao XD and I'm not sure about Percival because the man has a dead wife and kids.

Voltron

Keith: with his lack of interest in women, he can only be gay. That man looks at no one quite the same as he looks at Lance. what the hell was the whole bonding thing if not a hint for post canon klance? Sorry, not sorry XD rivals to best friends to lovers.

Lance: *bi bo bi* bisexual lighting Lance. Doesn't matter if you prefer klance or shallura, this man is a walking bi flag. I don't know what you mean by proof, just look at this wiggly boy with the fingerguns. He can't even sit straight! Can't do math either. He's perfect!

Shiro: probably the only character in my entire history of shipping that I would unqueer without feeling bad about it. I know he's gay, I just don't really see it in the writing. Of course there aren't always clear signs that someone is gay which is why this is good rep actually (+he's married), but you asked me for proof in the show and all I see is that this man is a dad. That's his gender and his orientation and that's all I really need to know.

Pidge: aro/ace because I love my aroaces and this child loves robots and robots only. Also nonbinary/genderqueer. Pronouns: fuck/off XD

I think Lotor should have been bi. Pre-canon Lotor had us Langsters ship Lotor x Lance and it was so much fun :D

Bob: gender: evil, orientation: villain. I hate this guy

Coran: the georgous man is either gay or pan. More likely pan because I vaguely remember he had a son?

I hope I answered your question reasonably enough XD thank you for the ask, anon :3

[asliceofzosan]

Make the Yuletide Gay!

Hey, everyone! This year, I wanted to challenge myself and post one (or more) fics per day leading up to Christmas in my first 12 Days of Zosan Christmas Special! I have fallen in love with these idiots and also the lovely community who has been nothing but kind and welcoming to a newbie 💚💛 So this is my way to give gifts to all you wonderful people!

All the fics will be posted to my new AO3 account of the same name — asliceofzosan. Which is why you are seeing some repeat fics from tumblr here mainly the Dirty Rice Ball series. Other than those three, I will be posting 12 new fics from brainrot sessions that consumed my waking thoughts every night.

And as a super special treat, the lovely, gorgeous, and MOST talented @inoreuct and I are collaborating on a fic together for one of the days! You genuinely do NOT want to miss that.

(written schedule below the cut)

Schedule

December 14 - The Rice Ball Incident

Part One of the Dirty Rice Ball Series now cross posted to AO3 with an extra scene that is not on the original tumblr post!

December 15 - Debt and Doing Dishes

Part Two of the Dirty Rice Ball Series cross posted to AO3 + A surprise fic

December 16

Part Three of the Dirty Rice Ball Series cross posted to AO3 + Another surprise fic

December 17 - By any other name

Being labeled as "Roronoa Sanji" on the newest Wanted Posters doesn't bother Sanji as much as the rest of the crew thought it would.

December 18 - 2 left feet (2 hearts beat)

Espionage, fake wedding rings, and a vintage well-fitting tux is all it takes for this night to either be labeled a complete disaster or the greatest miracle to ever happen.

December 19 - if i loved you (like i'm capable of)

After his heart was broken by a man he thought loved him, Sanji finds out that he is loved by someone he is not worthy of.

December 20 - promises, promises

Even as the golden band around his finger symbolizes their eternal love, not seeing a third earring on Zoro doesn't feel right. Sanji's anniversary gift changes that.

December 21 - a royal disaster

Nobody told Zoro that the supposedly tyrannical prince to inherit the doomed kingdom is actually the most beautiful man he will ever meet in his lifetime.

December 22 - rough hands, soft heart

Sanji thought Zoro wasn't good with kids. It wasn't until Chopper joined the crew where he realized he was sorely mistaken.

December 23 - in another world, i'm yours

Sanji switches places with a man who plays him in a TV show about his crew. He discovers many things about himself and his relationship with a certain mosshead in the process. (Collab with inoreuct)

December 24 - when you dream

There's something about the way Sanji gushes about his near impossible dream that makes Zoro root for him. And maybe unknowingly fall in love in the process.

December 25 - becoming a decent best man for dumbasses

Nami asks Zoro to be her best man at her and Vivi's wedding. Zoro's problems cover so much more than just coming up with the best speech...

Teasers will be posted leading up to December 14! The two extra fics on day two and three will be a surprise instead 👀 Feel free to send asks about any of these stories as well 😚

Super excited to post all of these, ya'll have NO idea!! Hopefully, I'm able to reach my goals while also making the zosan community happy 💚💛

[queerweewoo]

CRACK (TO THE HEAD) WITH A CAPITAL 'C'

(AKA The Written at 4am Buddie Crack-ish Fic Starring: Thirsty Song Lyrics, National Treasure Christopher Diaz, and Way Too Many Feels For Its Own Damn Good)

.

It's Friday morning, two minutes to zero-ten hundred-hours, according to Eddie's Timex Indiglo watch which is never even a half-second out, when he unlocks the door to Buck's place to drop Christopher off for his overnight stay—Chris refuses to call them sleepovers anymore because age thirteen is apparently The Number of The Beast—before Eddie will have to bail pretty sharpish to kick-off his twenty-four shift that begins at eleven.

On entering the apartment, they're met by the sound of raucous, upbeat music.

Eddie scans the loft for his friend and has to do a seriously comical double take when he catches sight of Buck, who has one hand spread palm-down on his the couch cushions, and the other behind his back as he performs shirtless one-armed wonder press-ups (with perfect fucking form, as always) to the punky beat of The Offspring's Pretty Fly For A White Guy that's currently blasting from Buck's bluetooth speaker—riiiiiight as the Give it to me baby! A-ha! A-ha! part of the song hits and the whole scene has Eddie's brain record-scratching and stopping him dead in his army issue steelies.

Dead, fucking dead, ¡Santa María, salva mi alma!

His jaw instantly drops through the floor and into the apartment below without his permission as if there are lead weights attached to his teeth, his mouth now fully hanging open and catching all the damn flies in a completely horrifying display of blatant, lust-filled shock.

Buck is breathtaking at the best of times, but right here, right now, he is heart-stoppingly unfuckingreal.

READ MORE BELOW OR HERE ON AO3

Eddie's bestie (best friend-shaped, Eddie! Eddie thinks, Buck is best friend-shaped!) is carelessly grunting like some sort of sex-machine that's been built to Eddie's exact specifications, and each grunt is louder than the last with each new, hard push upwards of Buck's swollen-thick torso, glistening sweat beading on his—well, on his absolutely fucking everything, Jesus fucking Christ on a bike, and Eddie's washing machine brain is at once stuck on an eternal spin-cycle and may well break down any second now and have him collapsing like a shabby old rag doll dressed in Eddie's Henley and Eddie's ripped jeans and falling to his now-violently shaking knees if he doesn't grab the fuck onto something, STAT.

He's about to shamefully steady himself with a hand to his son's shoulder when Christopher starts yipping like a madman then joining in with the song lyrics by positively shouting out the chorus.

“Give it to me baby! A-ha! A-ha!” he screams in a deliberate and absurd soprano, and Eddie's mind is screaming in Shut-Down, having first upgraded to an aneurysm, or at least a stroke, and he has to slap a hand over his kid's mouth, pronto, because he doesn't know what the fuck else he possibly could do at this point in the fantasy-laiden world that is currently unfolding before his probably now bloodshot eyes; nothing else he can think of to stop himself from ending up in a drooling heap that will become known as The Reduction Formally Known As Eddie Diaz's Gay Panic when he melts onto Evan Buckley's kitchen linoleum at possibly one minute to ten on a Friday afternoon in June in the year of our Lord 2024.

Eddie just barely manages to squeak out a truly pathetic, “Nope! Nuh-huh! No!” before that particular Cartoon Network-esque slapstick disaster becomes an unfathomable and inescapable reality.

Christopher obviously protests his outrage with a muffled but still impressively indignant, “Daaaad! I'm thirteen YEARS old, not thirteen MONTHS old!” just as Buck spots them both and smiles his big, adorable smile, immediately abandoning his exercises to turn the music off (oh, thank the Heavens!) and jumping up to stride over towards Christopher and Eddie to meet them where they're standing around like kitchen gremlins by the central island in Buck's kitchenette.

Sopping wet, wide-spread sweat patches are darkening the majority of Buck's once-light grey jersey short-shorts (holy crap, they are short and are leaving nothing to the imagination), those unfairly long legs of his slick and shimmering with dewy-fresh perspiration, just like the rest of his devastatingly gorgeous half-naked body, and Eddie wouldn't be joking if he regaled this moment to somebody at a later date (as if he ever would) by telling them that his entire life flashed before his eyes—because it absolutely balls to the wall no fucking shit just did.

He blinks approximately seven-hundred and thirty-three times in the less-than-four seconds it takes for Buck to reach them.

Christopher is flailing under Eddie's death-grip like a traumatised kidnap victim, while Eddie is continuing to freak the fuck out in Narnia like the crazed Closet Case that he is.

Edmundo Diaz—First Responder; Lapsed Roman Catholic—finds himself praying for a natural disaster, or an act of God, or, or, or, just... Something! Anything!

¡Por favor, Dios, por favor!

Resolute to the fact he has absolutely one-hundred percent secured his place in the very lowest circle of Hell, Eddie plasters a surely maniacal pearly-white grin onto his stupid and definitely reddening face, and says, “Howdy!” far too loudly in his thickest Texan accent for some unknown fucking reason—which is far, far louder and far, far thicker than any he ever sported while actually growing up in Texas—because he's clearly gone bat-shit fucking insane. Then he's breaking out into even more of a full-body sweat than Buck who has been working out for what is probably around the half-hour mark or more, by this point, because Sweaty Adonis Buckaroo is now right fucking there right in fucking front of Eddie so fucking close almost close enough to reach out and touch—

Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit!

And isn't this just aces?

Eddie thinks, Fuck fucking push-ups, fuck The Fucking Offspring, and fuck fucking Eddie's fucking life so fucking hard, godfuckingdammit.

Eddie is so Bucked.

Buck's smile is turning inquisitive (and somehow even more adorable) at Eddie's clear display of Buck-induced brain damage, before his baby-blues are twinkling with something... Mischievous? Cunning?

And then he's answering Eddie's dumb as shit greeting with, “Aloha, cowboy,” his brows snaking up his forehead, tongue lolling out of his mouth to rest on that sinfully pouty-pink bottom lip in a way that is the complete fucking opposite of innocent, leaving Eddie wondering if it's possible to die twice in the space of—well, ever.

(He knows all too well that it is, but he's been Bucked, remember, so how about giving his brain a break, hmm? THANK YOU SO MUCH).

Then Eddie wonders: Is this the ghost of Buck 1.0 that's come to say:

Hi, babygirl, I'm here to Buck you up good, real good, so you better hold on real tight because you're goin' downtown faster than a whore's panties, you slutty little—*GUNSHOTS*

About to possibly kick the bucket for the third time in as many minutes, Eddie realises he doesn't really know what Hawaii could possibly have to do with the Wild West (Aloha Cowboy?) but that he honestly couldn't give any amount of fucks, flying or otherwise, because unless his head has been cruelly hoodwinked with a massive serving of Wishful Thinking, he is also realising that...

That...

Buck is seriously flirting with him right now?!

He ponders briefly over how hard he actually hit his head when he'd banged it into the doorframe of his truck, maybe five minutes earlier when grabbing Christopher's crutches from the backseat just after they'd arrived.

Eddie then notices Christopher's teenage Smirky McSmirkerson features in his periphery (Chris had managed to prize Eddie's numb hand from his face a moment ago) and also the way his son's own head is snapping between his now fully-loco father and his Buck, and Eddie thinks of tennis matches, and flying pigs, and how stiflingly hot it seems to have become in the loft in the last thirty or so seconds.

Then Buck is licking at those lovely lips of his, turning to Christopher and saying, “What do you say we go out on a breakfast date on Sunday morning, after your Dad has slept a bunch, huh Christopher?”

Only, when he says the word 'date', Eddie doesn't think he's imagining the way Buck's eyes flicker pointedly in Eddie's exact direction.

“Because I'm off the whole weekend,” he continues, “so the three of us could drive the jeep out of town and I could buy you both giant syrupy waffles with maple bacon and Horchata milkshakes from Fosselman's and then... And then we can go visit the the Greek Theatre, and then maybe Griffith Observatory later on in the evening, when the stars come out, and we'll hold hands,”—again, his eyes bore longingly into Eddie's for a split-second that feels like a lived lifetime—“all three of us, like we used to when you were tiny, Chris, you remember that? And it'll be the best day that we've ever, ever had together, I absolutely know it.”

Buck is looking at Eddie again, only Buck isn't looking away this time and Eddie is almost positive that his eyes are screaming: Yes, Eds! Yes, I want you, too, man! So let's do this!

“Ew, no way,” Christopher instantaneously complains—before he's quickly backtracking and amending his statement with, “To the hand-holding, I mean. The rest sounds pretty good, though, Buck. What do you think, Dad?” and he even manages to sound marginally appreciative at the tail end—appreciative for a sharp, snarky teenager, that is.

Christopher then fully turns to Eddie (Eddie who's body is now sans soul) and says, “Can we really have waffles and milkshakes for breakfast Dad? Can we? Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease don't be a major Joy Assassin and say 'It's not a proper meal if there's no vitamins involved, Mijo', because it'll be a Sunday, and it sounds so awesome, like the rest of the day does, too, actually. And you love Buck, Dad, so maybe just you and him can be sappy Sallys and hold hands and be all gross together, and I'll secretly snap your picture when you're mooning at Buck with heart-eyes, like you always do, and Buck will give you heart-eyes back, like he always does, too, except this time you can both do it while you're actually looking at each other, and then I'll send the photo to Aunt Maddie and Uncle Chim who can maybe finally convince you two to move in together and get married like I've been trying to get them to for years, now!”

Eddie doesn't know where the hell the kid got the breath from for all those truths.

Because that's what that was; Eddie's truth, all of it.

But was it really Buck's truth, too?

Like they're rehearsing in a play based on their lives, Buck, on cue, lets out a really happy-sounding gasp that quickly morphs into a happy-sounding laugh, and Eddie bottle-rockets right out of the fucking apartment and off into the fucking stratosphere.

He is very much back in the room, though, when Christopher takes his hand to gracelessly slam-join it with Buck's, which is calloused like his own due to the life-saving work they proudly tackle together day-to-day—always together, every day they can be, always, partners in everything they do—and Buck's hand is big, and warm, too, and all kinds of wonderful, and then Eddie is not only thinking about all the skin and the hot and the sweaty and the gorgeous, but also about how Buck has saved Eddie's life, so many times, now, and saved him in so many different ways from practically the first week he and Chris spent in LA after leaving El Paso, has saved him in every way possible, actually, every which way under the sun and the moon and the stars, even the ones they can't see from Griffith Observatory. And even though Buck has just murdered Eddie twice already this morning in the silly-short space of time he and Christopher have been here, with his push-up grunts and sexy-swagger and his 'Aloha, Cowboy' (whatever the fuck that even means) and, most of all, above everything else, Buck's Over Nine-Thousand level of Adorability, Buck's boundless generosity and kindness, Buck's inherently thoughtful nature, and Buck's twelve-sizes-too-big heart, he is saving Eddie again with the way he's letting Eddie Eddie love, love, love him.

And the fact that he is taking care of Eddie's son today, tonight, is absolutely everything to Eddie. Buck is Christopher's Buck, Christopher's hero, and he's Eddie's hero, as well, and Eddie wants to claim him as Eddie's Buck, too, because Buck thinks Christopher is awesome and always genuinely looks forward to looking after him, to loving him all of the time, just like Eddie loves Chris, and like Eddie loves Buck because Buck cares about Christopher just as much as Eddie does, and Eddie knows—he knows without a shadow of a doubt—that Buck's love for the boy they're raising together is a type of love that no other person, bar Shannon, has had for him, for them, before or ever will again.

There is nobody else like Buck in the universe.

Nobody cares or loves like Evan Buckley, or more than Evan Buckley, and being on the receiving end of that love is worth more than solid gold, or oxygen, or even spicy pepperoni pizza and a cold one after pulling a gruelling shift as a Firefighter on the never-sleeping streets of Los Angeles, CA.

And then just like that, Eddie is able to put a timely yet abrupt stop to any and all of his panic (gay or otherwise) because there isn't a shred of anxiety left inside of him, now, not about this, at least, because he knows he's got nothing whatsoever to be scared of with Buck.

So addressing his son (their son, really) Eddie nods his head emphatically and tells his boy, “Yeah, Chris, that does sound awesome; Waffles and milkshakes and all of it,” and then squeezes the hand in his, Buck's hand, and leans over Buck's kitchen counter and says easily, “I love you, Buck—I mean, I'd love to, Buck! Shit—”

“Swearbox!” Christopher chides smugly.

Eddie pulls a face at his slip-up and at his son, then clears his throat and continues a little sheepishly with, “But, um,” before looking up to remind himself of that adoring that look Buck is giving him, and then saying more decisively,“ But yeah, that other thing, too, actually, because yeah, yes, you know I love you, Buck... At least, I hope you know it,” and then he huffs a little laugh as he adamantly says, “I love you, Evan Buckley,” and thinks 'In for a penny' and strains his neck to reach across and kiss Buck shyly on the cheek.

Only his aim is a little off and he ends up planting a kinda sloppy one right on the corner of Buck's slightly parted lips, but it turns out he's glad about it and is even sort of proud that he misjudged the angle and got to feel Buck's unabashed smile against his own upturned lips, because he's wanted to do that ever since he first laid eyes on the man standing in front of him who is radiating the sun's rays out of his very core, as if he actually owns them and the sun only has them on a loner for sunny days.

Buck is smiling like he's just won the World Series—which is funny because Eddie has just won the Being Gay With a Capital 'G' award, and that means they are both Imaginary Winning Title holders, now.

Except no, fuck that, because Eddie's win isn't imaginary at all, it is very much a beautiful and viscerally Real win, actually.

Real with a capital R, muchas gracias.

Apparently, all Buck has to say about all of this right now is, “Okay, alright, you get your fine ass to work now, Eddie Spaghetti, and Christopher and I will see you on the flipside for sleep and cuddles and, and, and a Real with a capital R adventure on Sunday,” and Eddie is looking at the universe sideways for the first time in the entirety of his non-believing life. “Oh and by the way, honey—and I am so calling you honey from now on, also by the way, just so you know—I absolutely one-hundred percent, honey,” he pauses for second and and winces a bit, “Christopher I will also be adding to the Swearbox for this one... Love the shit outta you too, Edmundo Diaz.”

Christopher just claps and laughs and laughs and claps and then shouts, “My two Dads love each other, universe, did you hear that?!”

Somehow managing to smile even bigger than he was a moment ago, Buck then lightly grabs the now half wolf-whistling, half dry-retching thirteen-year-old matchmaking genius who goes by Christopher Diaz, in a loose headlock and starts scrubbing gentle knuckles through his curls, before literally kicking the happiest man on the whole damn planet out of his apartment with a ridiculously big and adorably bare foot.

“Go! You'll be late! We'll see you tomorrow, honey.”

Eddie (said happiest man on the whole damn planet) waits until Buck's door has closed behind him and then till the elevator door has slid open and shut again before fist-pumping the air like the dorky First Place In The Game of Life winner that he is, smiling what is likely his biggest smile since his darling Christopher came into this world.

Then he pulls out his tongue at nobody at all and thinks, Fuck you, first place is first place; dork or not.

As he leaves Buck's building, he also thinks, I'll have to crack my head on random shit more often, joking with himself and chuckling like a prize idiot as he crosses the side road towards his truck.

Then he's immediately cursing himself out with every swear words he knows, in both English and Spanish, for somehow allowing himself to be pulled into Buck's nonsensical woo-woo Cosmic Universe bullshit.

Vida, vida, vida.

Although...

Maybe—just maybe—he could forgive the slip, just this one time, just this once, when he recognises his chuckle as the being the very same, gloriously happy-sounding laughter that Eddie had unbelievably managed to pull from the chest of the best man he's ever known (who also happens to be the hottest man in the whole frickin universe; cosmic or otherwise).

It's the man Eddie has loved for years who—apparently, amazingly—loves Eddie right back.

Evan 'Buck' Buckley.

Christopher's Buck. Eddie's Buck.

And when he's climbing into his truck and inexplicably clocks his head on the doorframe again, for the second time today (seriously, what the actual fuck is going on here?), Eddie looks around suspiciously and surreptitiously before taking a minute to peer hesitantly up at the sky-blue sky and its cotton-candy clouds and the hot, hot sun with its borrowed rays, out into the universe, or to God, or who—or what—ever is or isn't out there, before finding himself about to mutter a few choice incredulous words from under his breath.

He takes a gulp of air, and says, “Yeah, okay, muchas gracias, oh cosmic powers that be, yada yada et cetera et cetera, if you do in fact exist, not that I really think you do,” whispering the statement and feeling like a first class clown, “But, just in case?” Eddie swallows the lump in his throat and soldiers on. “Just in case, here it is: Yes, I obviously wholeheartedly appreciate whatever it was you might or might not have done for me back there, like, I really, honestly, seriously, do, but just—will you just please do me a solid and...” Eddie can't believe he's thinking this, let alone saying (albeit whispering) it for realsies, “...don't let Buck or Christopher or Hen or Karen or Chim or Maddie or Bobby or Athena or Ravi or, hell, any other fucker on the planet know that I actually said any of this phooey out loud, alright? Not ever. Or Santa Mierda, I will seriously come for you like a rabid Nordic Goat Herder on a mixture of bath salts and crack cocaine and crazy because I would never, ever be able to live this shit down if it got out. ¿Entiendes?”

Completely fucking done with that, Eddie starts up the engine and pulls out of his parking space outside of Buck's building, while annoyingly hoping that the universe understands at least a smidgen of Spanish, and begins the first day of the rest of his life, mumble-humming a not entirely unenthusiastic tune...

“Give it to me baby! A-ha! A-ha!”

.

(this had barely one skim-over edit so please be kind!)

[keicordelle]

Idolish7 sexuality headcanons because my head is full of cotton balls and anime boys today

Iori is quietly gay. Mostly closeted but not really trying to hide it, he just doesn't really want to talk about it. Secretly crushing on Riku, but has convinced himself it's just teenage infatuation. (A conviction that helps in no way whenever Riku does something cute or asks him for help)

Yamato is straight but open-minded. Get him drunk enough and he's ready to kiss whoever's at hand. Would be willing to swing the other way for the right person, but so far isn't really interested in anyone at all.

Mitsuki, my ace star! My boy has got no interest in sex whatsoever. He makes a great wingman though, always happy to tag along and talk up his friends. Iori comes to him for advice sometimes, and he always has the best responses to give him. Not aro tho, he wants to find someone(s) to settle down with someday who'll have just as much love to give him as he does them.

Tamaki : this boy is gay and doesn't even know what the closet is. Has never had any compunction about it, no worries, no revelation or coming out, he just is who he is. It's no big deal to him, and he's super perplexed as to why it matters to some.

Sogo spent the first 20 years of his so far in the closet that he's still not comfortable with himself. Only comes out as gay after he joins Idolish7 where he's surrounded by supportive friends. Is slowly starting to accept himself -- Tamaki is a hugely helpful influence with that.

Nagi is the most queer-friendly straight man in existence. An honorary queer. Very much a ladies man but frequently jokes(?) about how it's a shame that he deprives an entire half of the population of his charm. Very staunch trans ally and will hit on trans women just as readily as cis

Riku... I don't think even he knows what's going on inside his head. Had a gay awakening during puberty and straight up forgot about it. An oblivious gay, much to Iori's eternal despair. (Actually Iori's probably fine with it because it means Riku's less likely to notice his crush)

Gaku is bi but fem-leaning. But he's so head over heels for Tsumugi that it hardly even matters. He's Tsumugi-sexual now. Was never really into casual relationships anyway, and really rather hates that people think he's that type.

Tenn has known he's gay since he was very young and is really kind of resentful every time he's required to play up the sexy straight boy act. He's polite to the women he's paired up with of course, but he definitely bitches about it behind closed doors.

Ryu, aroace king. Please free him from the role of sexyman he just wants to go fishing and chill with his friends. He's running out of ways to politely turn people down. Gaku and Tenn come to his rescue whenever they're around, it's practically a routine now.

Momo came to terms with being gay some time ago now. Was a bit conflicted about it in high school, but being gay as an idol is a lot easier then being gay as a soccer player, especially with his partner up on stage with him.

Yuki is the most extremely pansexual man on the face of the planet. Attracted to anyone and everyone, but the attraction feels different from one gender to another. Has had way more casual relationships with women, but both people he's fallen in love with have been men. Maybe fem-leaning sexually and masc-leaning romantically. Or maybe it's just coincidence.

Haruka is a baby gay and still a little awkward about it. Still experimenting, and may or may not land on the gay label. Looks up to Minami for guidance and advice. Could stand to learn a thing or two from Tamaki, but whether or not he will...

Toma is a bisexual disaster. Everyone is pretty and he doesn't really know what to do about that. Thankfully he's got more important things to worry about so he just doesn't really think about it more than he has to.

Minami is cool, calm, collected, and fairly openly gay. Is perfectly content to take on the interest of their male fans. Knows what he wants and is entirely willing to go after it.

Torao : aggressively straight. Maybe a little homophobic about it. Definitely makes Haruka a little nervous. Minami just doesn't care. Will probably lighten up eventually, but things are a bit tense at first.

[uwuowotf2waslife]

Noone asked but

Mercs Sexualities ❤️

Scout is screaming closeted bi. Why you ask? I dunno, but my intuition never failed me.

Soldier is a chaotic person so in modern terms you could name him pansexual. He only cares if the person that he is snusnuing is capable of fighting. Thats all

Pyro is a monogamouss pan mess because with all the lighter fuel fogging up their goggles (and their minds) they couldnt care less about their S/Os genitals.

Demo is a casual straight man, but he isnt too much of a wuss to try new things (by things i mean you)

Heavy is gay as shit for Medic … come on.

Engie is a sad hetero man is his sad world (unless you count the fangirlies who wanna ride him like a cowboy)

Medic is a bi bitch queen (yeah fuck his ex wife, he wants to do but eternally pound (and fiddle) with Heavies guts)

Sniper is a proud disaster starved for a tender touch.

Spy is a true manwhore, serving and receiving all genders better than a gas station bathroom

[youkaigakkou-tl]

seimei not fully human real????

i mean this might have only been like 7 years (assuming douman was like 11-13 when they met and 18-20 at the end) but to get such a high up position (even if he was a prodigy) i would assume it would take douman at least 10 years (probably more including the time he was an onmyouji, perhaps like 15) so either seimei looks the same for 10 years bc he just does or something funky is going on.

i wouldn't put it past him to get offered some kind of long lasting/eternal youth by a powerful youkai who liked him a lot, but then again that might be too powerful for just a youkai and would have to be a god... but idk how much the gods liked him, plus there's also the possibility of a god who has fallen to a youkai but is still powerful enough to do that

also i think i need to rereread the kyoto arc but lots of the gods don't seem to like rules being broken from what i remember? and eternal youth sounds like a broken rule to me (might be overthinking it)?

so my conclusion is either seimei has a really good skincare routine or it's something youkai related (might still be overthinking it) OR it's just a gag, but i can't trust anything is just a gag anymore

FOR REAL WHAT IS UP WITH THIS GUY

7 years is like the generous minimum, I feel like Douman knew him for at least around 15 years, and if he looked the same for the 10+ years Douman knew him, who knows how long he's looked the same before then right

At least based off Ebisu, the gods don't seem to like Seimei very much for being able to command gods, so they were probably more preoccupied with that than whatever else was going on with him (but also we don't have enough sample size, we know like, 4 current-active gods total, being Ebisu and 3/4 divine beasts)

A wack baseless theory:

This panel. The way it specifically highlights murder or romance (and we know there's other things gods can get exiled for, like whatever Sano did and the fuujin and raijin causing disasters).

Murder, which Suzaku did, and romance, which haha gay but also what if. What if. Kuzunoha (Seimei's kitsune mom from irl legends) was a god and had a kid with a human and was exiled. And this also somehow ties into Haru's mom (white hair, looks young, sees ghosts)

Kind of inane and baseless but I want to say "I knew it" if it comes true. Or "don't listen to anything I say ever again" if it turns out I'm so so wrong

[shipsgaysfordays]

for the @wolfstarmicrofic prompt mating, I had a really hard time trying to come up with a response, thought I would ignore this prompt, but then I thought about a joke from Doctor Who so I had to

I used the words: mating, cute, admirer, thirst, and lust

I never really do AU’s but I’ve seen people doing westerns lately and I wanted to see about doing that

“I just want a mate,” Remus sighed at the redhead next to him at the bar who he had recently been introduced to.

“You just want TO MATE?” Lily’s eyed were wide and hot like a million suns.

“No, I just want A MATE!”

“Well you’re not mating with me, cowboy!” Lily smashed her glass bottle on the floor, much to the amusement of the long black haired beauty passing by.

“A MATE, I just want A MATE, a friend,” Remus tried his might to emphasize his words.

Lily considered for a moment, about to say something, until the person behind her spoke.

“Wanna mate with me, darlin’?” The grey eyes stared into Remus’ soul, Remus prayed to anything up above that his soul wasn’t telling what his mind was yelling. YES, FUCK, OH GOD THEY’RE HOT AND COCKY, Remus blushed like the hottest of hot summer days.

Remus spaced out for what must have been eternity, because when his mind went back to his body Lily was hitting him over the head, “EARTH TO REMUS, are you with us?”

Remus pushed her away, “Yeah, yeah, stop hitting me. I’ve already got a headache, don’t wanna make it a concussion.”

“So his name is Remus,” the unfairly unnamed gorgeous cute gender-less being spoke.

“WHY are you still here?” Lily put her face in her hands, “WHY, I’d rather like to talk with my new mate without him falling mad in love.”

Remus coughed, “I’m…I’m doin’ just fine, they can, they can stay.”

“We could be a nice little trio, name’s Sirus,” Sirius held out their hand to Lily, she shook it, eyes squinting as she stared them down.

“I’m Lily, and as you already know, you’re little admirer is named Remus.”

Through the time that their exchange went on, a new barmaid started her shift. A beautiful green lacy dress that curved and showed quite a bit of the chest, she sauntered over to their corner of the bar.

“Y’all want any more drinks or refills?”

Lily stared.

Remus nudged her on the shoulder, “Yeah, I think my friend here’s quite a bit thirsty.”

Sirius chuckled as Lily shoved Remus back. She tapped along the counter, “Yeah, yeah I’d love a refill, and maybe an escape from these gay disasters.”

“Don’t think I can help you there, I’m probably just as bad if not worse,” the lady bit her lip, a lustful attempt at seducing the woman across from her.

“One of us, one of us!” Sirius and Remus started chanting enthusiastically, the bar maid (they later learned her name was Mary) joined in too, and exacerbated Lily ended up joining as well.

[scariercnidaria]

another kerapin modern au where lapin is a medieval history professor at a uni and keradin is a financial lawyer who took one of his classes because he was interested in the crusades and he needed a history credit 8 years ago. he ended up dropping the class after a semester and a half at his therapist (pastor) (who just so happened to be a friend of the police officer assigned to the case) polite "suggestion" (restraining order threat), after developing a bit of a psychosexual obsession with lapin and doing a little trolling (targetted harrassment/stalking). in the interim keradin got another therapist (real one) (court mandated) and is on mood stabilisers now but still has not stopped seething about professor cadburys evil woke cultural marxist agenda.

lapin in this scenario is living with amethar in theos Eternal Bachelor Pad. he was living with amethar and caramellina (with reduced rent in exchange for tutoring jet and ruby who are probably like 14 in this scenario [so sorry for de aging them all a little bit i know im committing old men yaoi crimes it just makes slightly more sense this way. itd still be like. lapin 56+, keradin 31, amethar 44, theo ~46, caramellina 49]) until The Divorce (over finanicial disputes - amethars business is crumbling and is bringing caramellindas down with it as she just cant keep funnelling profits from her business into amethars in order to keep it afloat any longer; amethars purported unfaithfulness is not really an issue here because um This is just politics).

theo is trying to find an excuse to kick lapin out without making amethar feel worse about the situation but the only thing he has on him is that hes a bitch and smokes weed outside the laundry room sometimes but its been legalised and anyway lapin is never late on rent cause he has like 700 jobs (on top of being a history professor, lapin also has a side hustle leading bdsm/consent workshops at the library and also moonlights as a professional dom at a local sex club) (he also is still tutoring jet and ruby (for money this time) and has a positive relationship with caramellinda (they bitch about amethar) but she wont let him move back in because she "needs space"). theo thinks they have a weird gay thing going on (and hates it) and lapin is aware that theo thinks this and plays into it (because its funny) (and also hates it)

meanwhile in the keradinosphere, he has been consistently working ~60 hour weeks at his one (1) job at the same law firm for the last 5 years with no (0) promotion. his life is literally: work (10 hours), gym (2 hours), commute (2 hours each way), doomscroll on The App (5 hours), sleep (3 hours) every day forever.

on saturdays he works from home and on sundays he has church and then spends 3 hours sitting on a bench at the park "chilling out" (staring into the distance) (he doesnt own any books) before going to his court mandated weekly therapy session. his apartment is a textbook r/malelivingspace populated with an absolutely obscene collection of anime posters, lifting equipment, nerd shit replica medieval weapons or something and also an ever-rotating cast of Windowsill Plants Of The Month because he cant stop accidentally killing them and bursting into tears. his therapist tells him this is progress and that his drywall & security deposit will thank him

at some point some disaster hits keradin or something and they make him take sometime off work, and strangely without spending 10 hours under high stress bullshit every day + some melatonin he is actually for once in his life able to get more than 3 hours of sleep per night. at the same time, keradins The App experience starts being psy-op'ed by a memepage called xXsugarPlvmF4IRY_ who has infiltrated his niche internet tradbulb /fit/ microculture and begun flooding it with """ironic""" grecian gay sex "RETVRN" propaganda. this is a big hit as far as engagement among terminally online perpetually enraged historypilled incel-adjacent men such as keradin, and 6 hours of seething at ancient femboys combined with 8 hours of sleep and his brain unshrivelling somewhat results in him starting to have Gay Sex Dreams, which metastatises into him having Regular Gay Thoughts in the conscious world. he is too mortified to tell his pastor (because it is a liberal church and hes worried hell be supported) so he tells his therapist instead in hopes that they will recommend conversion therapy.

spoiler alert they dont. they encourage him to test the waters at his own pace by passing him a flyer for a consent workshop at the library later in the week in hopes that it will help him Get Comfortable With Sex As A Concept. keradin shoves the flyer in his sock drawer hoping to ignore it but is so haunted that he stays up all night doing some inspired googling and eventually learns about bdsm and is like woah! just like bulbo from my self-flagellation! he tries his best to resist the urge but he cant stop thinking about it and hes found he quite likes getting 8 hours of sleep and this New Stress is compromising that. eventually he looks up the number for a local sex club and books an hour and a half-- the following day, so he doesnt have time to chicken out-- with "father candi" (priest roleplay) ($120 out of pocket) (he tries not to think about having to face his actual pastor after this).

keradin goes there and surprise surprise its lapin.

keradin thinks he seems a little bit familiar but he cant quite put his finger on from where... so he discards the thought, and lapin straight up doesnt recognise him either so it all goes ahead.

lapin asks about boundaries and keradin is like "what are boundaries" so lapin spends the first hour and 15 minutes explaining boundaries and trying to get keradin to come up with something, anything dear bulb please. eventually they settle on a very rudimentary list and lapins like. ok that took ages we have 15 minutes left if you want to try and scene and keradin made it this far he isnt going to leave without at least trying gay sex It Would Kill Him. so they do an incredibly light d/s scene involving a confession booth or something and keradin comes within 2 minutes and then hits lapin with the old "if by my life or death i can protect you i shall". and lapin is like. um ok. thats nice. your time is up tho do u want a warm wet towel and a glass of water. ok. cool (<- his ass is clocking out immediately)

keradin immediately goes home and books another time slot precisely one month to the hour after the last one. during that month he goes back to work, is assigned to do some donkey work noone else wanna do on some fraud investigation around some local failing businesses, replaces his windowsill plant again, spends marginally less time on The App and somehow manages to look his pastor in the eye. he doesnt tell his therapist about the experience but they do ask how the consent workshop went and keradin lies and said it was good it was interesting and they ask like is that it so he badly paraphrases something lapin said about boundaries to get them off his back. they give him a flyer for the next one and keradin still doesnt go.

the month passes and he goes back and has another epic gay sex moment with father candi. and it becomes a regular occurance. every month, on the dot, like clockwork. for a while keradin is fucking crushed under the pressure of trying to come up with a non-gaysex reason for why he has to leave work before 7pm for once every month on the exact same day but nobody actually cares enough to ask him. and hes relaxed. hes not on The App. his windowsill plant lives for 2 months this time. so its just. like. good. its just a good situation.

...maybe too good.

[EXTREMELY LOUD BULBIAN GUILT SFX]

lapin, largely unaware of this, thinks the whole thing is pretty amusing. he knows that keradin works some stuffy office job and has some major religious hangups but he mostly just wants to be beat up a little and then praised and he always walks out 5gorillion % less stressed than he came in and its like ok. lapin can do that. its literally the least weird thing anyones ever asked him to do in a scene. yeah keradin is hot but mostly lapin wants to put him under a microscope and study him like a bug. its like having a favourite customer. he doesnt really think about it outside of when he knows its coming up its literally not that deep.

besides, he has other things to worry about like more pressingly: that amethar is being investigated by the IRS for being bad at running a business and if he goes to prison then theres no way theo will let him keep staying at his flat (the novelty of playing along with theos "weird gay thing" suspicions wore off, like, so fucking quick). he could go stay with his old scene partner "sugar plum mommy" but her whole place looks like serial experiments lain and he will not be able to grade papers over the sound of her bumping grindcore out a subwoofer she stole from a nightclub 4 years ago for 13 hours straight while she joshua citarellas the target audience for europa universalis into getting gayer than they already were.

meanwhile keradin literally cannot stop thinking about hot gay sex gay religious old man sex in your area click here right now and he feels crazy wazy and conflicted and awful about it and on the verge of getting psychosexually obsessed again. he decides to bring it up with his therapist finally because what are they gonna do? court mandate that he gets More Therapy? they end up being like ok yknow what would be really good for this actually is if you Went to the consent workshop ive been telling you about all this time. it would definitely help. its at the library its free. theres one in 30 minutes. ill drive you there (maybe not precisely).

either way. keradin goes. and guess whose fucking running it.

keradin stays but sits in the back and only feels slightly awkward but for once its like. no this is. it would be a good thing if father candi saw that i was here. i am listening and learning.

and he sits there.

in the back of the library.

set out like a lecture hall.

listening and learning.

and it slowly dawns on him exactly why "father candi" seemed so familiar.

[hauntedbyharrowhark]

Unless Alecto will be out this year, this is the best book I read in 2023. Yes, I‘m comfortable making this claim in march.

„A Queer Retelling of Satan's fall that's part cozy coming of age, part fast-paced tragedy, with a little love story in between –

In an eternal paradise, the most beautiful angel, Lucifer, struggles with shame, identity, and timidity, with little more than the desire to worship his creator.

It isn't until the strongest angel, Michael, comes into his life that Lucifer learns to love himself. Along the way, their friendship begins to bloom into something else. Maybe the first romance in the history of everything.

But this God is a jealous one, and maybe paradise is not paradise.“

I don‘t have the words to properly describe the experience of this book. The prose is stunning, the emotional journey is wild, the story is cozy, devastating, heartbreaking and encouraging.

If you need a distraction from waiting for Alecto, if you‘re looking for unhinged gay disasters becoming worse and worse, read Angels Before Man by Rafael Nicolás!

[blocksruinedme]

SmallEtho wip clip cause ao3's down

[final fic! The Hangover Brunch ]

This is my fourth. I certainly hope ao3 will be up come tuesday afternoon, if not I'll put out more fic bits.

This one was supposed to be for @smallethoweek, back in january. I have two wips from that week that I still plan to publish! They are college larpers, they met playing a larp called "double life" and started hooking up. It's a few weeks later and they are hooking up all the time.

The final fic will be, I think, barely M. I don't love the title and i hope to be struck with inspiration.

(I also have a 2k modern Flower Husbands wip clip up and a "smallidarity back on empires without grian" post-lim life fic, and a silly smallidarity emp s2 one.)

"The Hangover Brunch" by BlocksRuinedMe

Thinking about the ongoing, and perhaps eternal, ambiguity around the nature of his relationship with Etho made Joel anxious, so he tried to limit how much he let himself dwell. He wasn’t very successful, but he kept trying because he couldn’t see a better option. The one time he’d tried to discuss it with Etho had been unpleasant and ended with Joel very drunk and making questionable decisions, sure he had been thoroughly and permanently dumped. It was still unclear to Joel (and he wasn’t about to ask) what Etho thought had happened, if he even thought there had been a fight, because he texted Joel two days later as if nothing had changed. Joel was relieved to be able to slip back into whatever-they-had-going-on as if nothing had happened, and privately swore to not bring it up again, regardless of how many times his friends asked him to. He was sure it would get sorted out eventually, one way or another. The (perhaps imagined) breakup had left Joel very clear that he wanted whatever he could get from Etho. He didn’t see any reason to risk losing what he was getting and his hopes for the future.  

The anxiety about Etho was usually easiest to push away when he was with Etho. Joel didn’t know enough about relationships to know if that was unusual or ironic, but he was very grateful to not (always) be a total disaster when they were together. The nights alone, the days spent repeatedly checking his messages (despite always having push notifications on for Etho), the wandering thoughts during class and in lab – those were the real problem. 

It was clear that Joel’s friends had grown weary of hearing him whine about Etho, possibly even more than they seemed sick of him gushing about Etho, so he tried to only share the anxiety spirals when he was at his worst and desperate for distraction. None of them knew how consistently (every day) he felt crazy about Etho - and not the good kind of “being crazy” about a super hot, totally ripped genius who keeps showing up at your dorm room to show you a very good time. Instead he had “try your best to not become a stalker but it’s looking dicey” crazy and “maybe fail out of school from being too gay” crazy. Not instead of, though, he’d accepted he had multiple kinds of crazy, and might be suffering from more kinds of Etho crazy than he realized. He told himself it was worth it. 

Despite being over nearly every night, Etho didn’t often stay the night in Joel’s cramped dorm room. When he did he usually woke up and left early. They never talked about it, of course, but Joel knew it was early enough that his housemates might not realize he hadn’t come home the night before. After weeks Joel hadn’t even been in Etho’s bedroom, which he told himself was… fine. When Etho fell asleep before Joel, or slept in after Joel (who never slept much anyway), Joel let himself be–or at least feel like–a total creep by watching Etho sleep. Those moments were both excruciating and exquisite to Joel’s fragile heart. In the relaxation of sleep, Etho looked peaceful, vulnerable, open - even soft. It felt precious and beautiful and it made Joel’s heart hurt. He longed to have that from waking Etho, and tried to be patient.

The rest of the world (or at least most of it) didn’t get to see this Etho, and Joel clung desperately to that knowledge, that he was being gifted with some special part of Etho. He knew he would sound crazy if he said it out loud. He knew that Etho wasn’t specifically gifting him this, he was on some level taking it without Etho’s knowledge.  But Etho felt safe enough to give Joel that [access], and that meant the world to Joel. 

For all their sexual connection and intensity, these moments were when Joel felt an intimacy he’d lacked in all of his ill-fated and brief attempts at dating. No matter what Etho thought, or felt, this was the best relationship Joel had ever had. 

On the excruciating side, all those feelings reminded Joel of everything he didn't have with Etho. Being affectionate and using pet names in public, romantic things like dates and sappy goodnight texts if they slept apart, and getting to introduce Etho to people and say “This is my boyfriend, Etho.” Right now he’d settle for having literally any idea of what he could expect from Etho, of what this meant to Etho, what he meant to Etho. They'd never even had a conversation about sex with other people, so Joel operated under the assumption that Etho was sleeping with an unknown number of other people. Joel was a little surprised that he didn't feel particularly jealous about the idea – he didn't think he needed to be Etho’s Only in any regard. It wasn't about the amount of time they spent together (though he'd love more), it was more about how they spent the time they had, how they interacted with the world, and with each other. If Etho had an actual serious public relationship, while Joel was left in limbo, that would at minimum sting, if not devastate him. Joel felt sure he’d be happy for Etho to have a dozen boyfriends (or girlfriends, or whoever friends)... as long as he could be one too.