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what-do-1000-swords-look-like · 2 years

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That Destiel response

I know this is very delayed (work has been killer the last two weeks tbh) but I finally was able to get this done and wanted to throw it out into the void before the anniversary and con happening tomorrow:

So after that shitshow at DenCon 2021 (this is not hating on JP, it's stating facts: JP's rant was a shitshow for LGBTQIA+; was it unintentional? most likely, was it still hurtful for the community? yes = shitshow), I've finally been able to parse my thoughts and feelings about it all and have some thoughts on the topic of Destiel based on that response. And just a warning, this got really long.

For those of us that shipped Destiel before this event, I would just like to say this:

Regardless of how the actors may see the confession scene (and this includes Jensen), it does not take away from how we see the story (or the confirmation that Cas' confession was romantic and written/acted with romantic intent). This doesn't take away from how we view it, just as the romantic confirmation doesn't take away from how others view the scene as only platonic or brotherly. (though tbf, objectively, that assessment is incorrect because like I said above, we know what the intent was for that scene for Cas) For example, I'm a Fuffy shipper at heart. I know how Buffy's story went and how it ended. I know how it's been continued on in the comics. That doesn't take away from my reading of the very obvious subtext between Buffy and Faith during that show, no matter what Whedon or the actresses or show said. I know subtext when I see it.

So nothing that Jared or Jensen say can take away from how you read that scene. Especially Jared who had nothing to do with the scene, had no involvement in how it was shot/acted/written/blocked, or was even on set that day. What he's stating in his very problematic reply (yes, I am talking about the rant he went on that absolutely smacked of homophobia/acephobia no matter how unintentional it might have been) is purely his opinion. It's not Misha's or Berens' or even Jensen's. So in light of that, I want to focus purely on Jensen's words in his reply during this panel.

A lot of us see it as being his typical neutral answer that we all expected (which is totally fine) but I think a lot of it got lost in translation due to Jared's interrupting answer.

Question: "So um, actually, um, I'm a mom and a couple of my kids are--identify as queer and I always appreciated how, like, organically you just introduce like gay characters and things, and um, sorry I'm shaking I'm so nervous. Um, and so my question is with Castiel, when did you know that the way he loved Dean was a romantic, like deep love? Like, when in the series did you know? Because we always kind of debate over 'see, this is when they're kind of dropping hints.'"

Excellent question by this amazing mom. She's obviously asking when Jensen knew that Cas' love for Dean was indeed romantic in the story. And what she meant by the debate over the hints was about Cas and when it was decided that Cas was definitely in love with Dean, NOT about Dean himself.

Jensen: "Well, I don't think Dean ever really knew until the end there. Um, uh, in fact I know he didn't because I never played that. I would say when Jensen found out or it was kind of discussed internally that it's--it...it's interesting because the--the--I think romantic--" (why does Dean come into this? she was asking when Jensen himself knew...)

*Jared interrupts with "I think the point is--"* (because he sees this is going into a place that Jensen appears to be uncomfortable going into just based off of the beginning of his answer alone)

Jensen: "I think the term romantic is being used because there isn't necessarily a term that--"

*Jared interrupts again with "He's junkless, you know?"* (ah, the purposely distracting/garnering for laughs answer)

Jensen: "Yeah. I don't think-I don't think lust is involved with the romanticism--"

*Jared interrupts again and just takes over* (again, trying to obviously distract/misdirect away from Jensen because he views it as saving Jensen from having to answer while also making his point)

So, I kind of want to break down these words Jensen said above. Obviously, I'm not inside the man's head and have no complete knowledge of his intentions, especially since I didn't discuss it with him and I obviously don't know him at all personally but I'm going to focus on the words themselves of this first part:

"Well, I don't think Dean ever really knew until the end there. Um, uh, in fact I know he didn't because I never played that." -- this is absolutely how I saw Dean in the story line so this makes 100% sense to me. Dean had no idea that Cas felt that way about him at all until Cas says it (AND Jensen's own words confirm yes, peeps, Cas' ILY was definitely romantic, IT'S RIGHT THERE!). That, to me, is absolute fact and has now been officially confirmed by Jensen who states he didn't play Dean as knowing about Cas' feelings until that moment in 15x18. It's not that Dean didn't know that he and Cas had a profound bond, that other characters didn't hint at it to him (i.e. Sam, Balthazar, Ishim, etc.), that he wasn't aware that Cas had this odd fascination with him, but he never ever knew that Cas' feelings were indeed anything more than brotherly, platonic, and familial. And looking at Dean's character (without Jensen's confirmation of how he played it), this makes absolute sense. Dean always thought he was damaged goods, that he was nothing more than a soldier and that he would die a gruesome death at a young age, that he didn't deserve happiness, love, and a family, or even some semblance of a normal life. It's only in the last few seasons that we see his perception of himself start to change as well as his perceived (and expected) ending. It's Cas' words in 15x18 that finally get through to Dean about himself as well as his anger (not Amara, not Sam, not anyone else) and we see this come to fruition in 15x19 (and dare I say it, 15x20). Dean never thought anyone would love him or that he was deserving of that love. (look at how he couldn't settle into his life with Lisa and Ben in the beginning of season 6 regardless of the hunting itch and Sam, look at how the writer and director talked about how Jensen played Dean in the 'federal investigation' moment in season 8 with Aaron with 'somebody likes me' as if it's such a shock and not because it's coming from another man) Dean never felt he would be good enough for anything more than a roll in the hay (which is what he mostly has in the series minus his pre-existing relationship with Cassie, his relationship with Lisa, and of course the unwanted connection with Amara). So, Dean not knowing (and Jensen playing it that way) absolutely makes sense.

Now, notice how when he says this, he is not speaking about how Dean felt, up to that point or during that point or even after it. He's simply answering the question to the best of his ability with his interrupting buddy in close proximity and with (as most of us assume) studio/network constraints to keep the ending to be perceived as an open ending. He is not supposed to answer one way or the other and he knows that. That's why he's not speaking on how Dean feels, regardless of whichever way it was (or because he's simply not comfortable speaking publicly on how Dean felt).

"I would say when Jensen found out or it was kind of discussed internally that it's--it...it's interesting because the--the--I think romantic-- I think the term romantic is being used because there isn't necessarily a term that--" -- He is stating point blank that he didn't know Cas had romantic feelings for Dean officially until he found out himself internally (and it's interesting that he's attempting to backtrack away from Cas' ILY being romantic even though his words above/seconds before literally just confirmed it as being romantic). And even though he played Dean as not knowing until the confession itself happens, he obviously knew about it beforehand as himself bts. Let's remember, Misha himself has stated before that the confession scene would not have happened had Jensen not been on board with it (again, why did Jensen need to be on board with it if it was only platonic or brotherly on Cas' end?). Even before this question in this panel, Jensen praises Misha's acting in that scene. After the confession scene aired back on November 5th, 2020, Jensen was proud of that scene, how it was Misha's goodbye to Cas, and how it came together (the hand print specifically in this interview):

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Jensen also mentioned he had a crew member record the scene as they shot it, on his cell phone, so he could remember the experience as Jensen. Regardless of how he personally interprets what Dean's response would have been, what kind of love Cas had, this scene was very important to him, whether that be because it was his last scene with Misha, it being Misha's goodbye to Cas, an important scene for Dean as a character (it was), or all of it in combination. He absolutely cared about that scene and in no way is he out to sabotage someone's reading of it, however they choose to see it (and this includes Misha's "homosexual declaration of love" btw). Had Jared not been present at this panel, I do believe Jensen would have absolutely been able to answer this woman's question clearer while also operating within the constraints they all have been given (again, that a lot of us assume they have).

"Yeah. I don't think-I don't think lust is involved with the romanticism--" -- this is Jensen purely trying to undo what Jared just said about Cas being junkless (he's remembers this mom's words all too well when stating the question most likely). That idiotic comment Jared (it was idiotic, sorry not sorry) made has nothing to do with the question that was asked or the answer that Jensen was trying to give. Instead, Jared thought it would be hilarious and it would earn him a few laughs while he helps out his "good buddy" who is obviously attempting to give a thought out answer within the constraints they've been given (again, assumed), while Jared is determined to tow the company line (because let's face it, the same network has his current show on it). I think this line Jensen says is very important and actually not only shows that he absolutely understands the impact that scene had for people (not just for Dean's character or Cas', plus didn't he say he and Misha sent each other fan reaction videos to the scene at some point?) but also that he is very aware of the distinct difference between love and sex (as hopefully any person would be) and how the "romance" of the moment is not about someone being "junkless", whether he has been educated on the difference between romantic orientations and sexual orientations or not, and that they don't always go hand in hand. He's also purposely choosing the word "romanticism" here which if you look up the definition also means "the state or quality of being romantic" as we all know. He knows exactly how this scene was written and acted out, not just because he was involved with it and was there when it was filmed but also because obviously he was told the intent of it when it was discussed with him. He knows exactly what Cas' "I love you" meant from Cas' story line, from his perspective. He just isn't willing to confirm it (for whatever the reason). And I'm willing to bet that this is exactly why Jared jumps in here and completely takes over. Not because he understands the difference between romantic and sexual orientations (as is evidenced by his rant), not because he understands what the word "romanticism" means obviously, but because he was determined to be the one to answer and then he heard the beginning of that word when Jensen said it, went 'oh shit', and then we got the inevitable word vomit that turned into a very toxic and harmful homophobic (and acephobic) rant (no matter how unintentional it might have been on his part).

Then of course, after Jared's rant (which Jensen looked like he wanted to speak up at least twice during but refrained when it was obvious Jared was just going to keep going, which speaking from a professional perspective though Jensen and I have different careers, it didn't surprise me that he didn't; when someone is all geared up and is going to keep going, keep interrupting, keep ranting about a topic, sometimes the best thing to do is to literally wait them out, let them finish getting whatever it is off of their chest, and then speak your piece because when someone is that geared up, it will only get worse if you keep trying to interrupt or speak or get your point across, and before you know it, it's an argument that you're definitely not winning, so it's usually best to wait them out - I'm not excusing anyone here, I'm just explaining that from a professional perspective, I get why he didn't jump in during the rant), we get the rest of Jensen's reply which immediately tries to clarify whatever the fuck that reply of Jared's was but also starts backtracking from the open interpretation line slightly while also slightly reaffirming what Jared just said (which is where the problem comes in from where Jensen is involved):

"I think the, I'll just piggyback on what he said... The love that Cas had is...is heavenly. It was, you know, he's an angel. He's able to--he's able to, I think, love on a level and on a plane that human emotion doesn't necessarily comprehend. Um, and I think we might default to making it a romantic or a sexual love when I think that, the way that I kind of interpreted it, and this is the great thing about the show and I think some of these relationships and characters is that they're open for interpretation. If you find identity in a character because of--because of whatever reason, fantastic. Great. If that encourages you to be a better person or to love someone a little harder or to forgive someone for something then fantastic. That's-- I think, that's one of the beautiful things about doing what we do is we get to encourage people on a variety of levels. And I think Cas' love was a love that isn't identified by humans necessarily. It was the love that--that superseded that. And so we tried to find words to describe that and I just don't think they're our words."

So I'm going to break this down, too, piece by piece:

"I think the, I'll just piggyback on what he said... The love that Cas had is...is heavenly. It was, you know, he's an angel. He's able to--he's able to, I think, love on a level and on a plane that human emotion doesn't necessarily comprehend." -- once again, he is stating exactly what he said back when the confession scene happened in 2020. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this part of the reply because that's a very vague and diplomatic answer without confirming one way or the other how Dean felt about Cas' "I love you". But what does start to lean towards problematic is that instead of speaking once again on what the question actually was, which was when Jensen knew that Cas' feelings were romantic in the story line (which again has been confirmed by Misha, the other actor in that scene as well as him confirming that Berens' intent when writing the ILY was romantic on Cas' part), there seems to be a focus on Cas suddenly (due to Jared's rant that Jensen appears to be now grabbing like a lifeline) and how he feels and what his love actually means. Again, this is nothing we haven't heard before from Jensen when he's been asked about the confession scene and Dean's lack of reply one way or the other. It's actually a good way to answer it because like we've all said before, it keeps it open. He's not shutting the door on it and saying "yeah, no, Cas didn't love Dean like that, he's junkless, you know?" But it's when the focus shifts from Jensen (notice how Jared's rant purposely shifted all focus from Jensen btw, people like to say Jared has no idea what he's doing when he word vomits like that or that it wasn't intentional, maybe his homophobic and acephobic remarks weren't, but his intention to get the focus off of Jensen and tow the company line was; the guy is wicked smart, I'll give him that) to Cas that we start to see the problem in Jensen's remaining reply.

"Um, and I think we might default to making it a romantic or a sexual love when I think that, the way that I kind of interpreted it, and this is the great thing about the show and I think some of these relationships and characters is that they're open for interpretation. If you find identity in a character because of--because of whatever reason, fantastic. Great. If that encourages you to be a better person or to love someone a little harder or to forgive someone for something then fantastic. That's-- I think, that's one of the beautiful things about doing what we do is we get to encourage people on a variety of levels." -- this is the very problematic part of Jensen's reply. Not what he says about how great it is that everyone can have a different read on a scene or characters, etc, or how if it can affect your life in a positive way -- that's great. That's just more of the same line he's been giving since 15x18 aired. I also think (though tbf I don't know the man) he genuinely feels this way: "That's-- I think, that's one of the beautiful things about doing what we do is we get to encourage people on a variety of levels." For any character he plays, any story he is a part of. He's a natural born storyteller. That's literally who he is. But it's this part of his reply that's the issue: "I think we might default to making it a romantic or a sexual love". Here is where he started to flounder and basically without really meaning to (I think?) kind of reaffirmed what Jared said (about the confession not being romantic or sexual in nature) but also once again showing that he is very well aware of the difference between love and sex, and how different groups of viewers didn't necessarily see Cas' ILY as saying 'I want to bone you, Dean, but sadly I just don't have the time due to that big black goo coming out of the wall behind you'. By saying "I think we might default to making it" - well, that unfortunately is saying without explicitly saying that the interpretation/reading of the confession as "a romantic or a sexual love" is wrong. It's just a default setting so to speak.

But then he does manage to come back around with "And I think Cas' love was a love that isn't identified by humans necessarily. It was the love that--that superseded that." -- He circles back to the whole Cas' love is heavenly, his love is a different type of love that humans may not understand, etc. Nothing wrong with that. Tbf to him, I completely understand what he's saying here and I do tend to agree. It doesn't mean it's not romantic or a "homosexual declaration of love", but yes, I think Cas loved Dean unconditionally as he proved time and time again throughout the series up until his end. We've all talked about how this angel who had seen millennia meets this one human who not only changes his view on his own existence as well as humanity's but also becomes someone he cares very deeply for (even before that's made explicitly clear in season 15). Hence the wording for Cas in the confession scene: "I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean." So when Jensen says the love superseded the human idea of romantic or sexual love, he's not completely wrong. "Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester." That doesn't mean that Cas didn't have those feelings for Dean or have a romantic love for him or sexual attraction for him (he was once human for a bit there after all, and he also took on more humanistic traits as Cas' character evolved over time and developed further), but he loved Dean beyond those things. The power of it simply would blow away say if it had been a human man to say that to Dean. His love was unconditional (see episode 10x22 for reference for example), which as much as we as humans try to achieve that type of love, for ourselves and others, we're all still human. It doesn't take away from the love we have and give every single day but I think what Jensen is trying to get at here with this idea is that when a human loves another human, it's to the 100th degree, right? But when an angel loves a human in this fictional universe, it's to the nth degree. So he's not saying it's not romantic in nature, he's (purposefully) dancing around it and once again not committing to a particular intent or reading (again, due to possible constraints) while also trying to give some semblance of an answer. (which, again, was not the question but thanks to Jared, the focus was shifted off of the intent of said question; tho tbf Jensen had already started to go off topic before Jared spoke, Jared just took it all the way home)

But then, unfortunately, Jensen undoes some of the progress he just made away from the whole "default" line with this one: "And so we tried to find words to describe that and I just don't think they're our words." -- not terrible of course, at all, but by saying "I just don't think they're our words" it once again implies that it's not romantic in nature. Which steers away from the vague line of angelic love he had just been giving a moment earlier. The line starts out strong by saying "And so we tried to find words to describe that" but then tanks with "and I just don't think they're our words." And here's the thing, if it's his opinion, there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. Jared's opinion minus the unintentional homophobic/acephobic rant (which he was not asked for, just a reminder) is fine. It's what making these types of statements enable and give ammunition to that's the problem.

Sure enough, once this panel took place and that answer happened, more hatred, invalidation, and bullying (and other toxic behaviors) occurred. On this site and others. For those who saw the confession as romantic, for those who looked for validation in the scene and/or the actors' statements on said scene, for those who were upset by the actual homophobic/acephobic statements Jared made rather than about the ship. All of it occurred. Again. (which they've been dealing with for a year now, literally, and some for years before that) And that's what these statements when they're not prepared or well thought out (meaning on the spot, I for one think Jensen and Jared usually give very well thought out answers considering), when they get hijacked by someone thinking they're doing their buddy a solid by getting him out of an alleged tough spot, when the actors are most likely barred censored from speaking about the subject which then in turn makes them do an impossible form of legal limbo to try to answer fans' questions while trying not to get into trouble...that's when this particular section of people/fans/stans are able to operate and do their worst onto others. (and we all know very well which group I'm referring to in this fandom: two words that rhyme with Mared Shtans) Because they feel emboldened, empowered, and enabled to do so based on these types of answers given by the actors. And the actual harm Jared's rant did for the LGBTQIA+ community aside for a second, these words however unintentional or misguided or scrambling for a quick response they were, they essentially become weapons for a certain group (*cough* Jared Stans *cough cough*) and they were and are being gleefully and mercilessly used on others.

So, I get why so many were angry at Jensen and still are. I personally was disappointed for a while because though I understand the man is human and none of us know him personally, only the public persona he chooses to show us, I had hoped for better. Believing that he's an ally along with Danneel, I had hoped he would recognize the words coming out of Jared's mouth for what they were in the moment and while I didn't expect or hope that he would then immediately throw all caution to the wind and confirm Cas' ILY was romantic (to try to tamper some of the impact Jared's words would have on the community if nothing else) and Dean absolutely loves Cas back or tell Jared to kindly and politely f**k off, I had hoped he would at least not reaffirm what Jared had said. If only to spare the LGBTQIA+ community what we all knew would surely follow that panel. And sure enough, it did. So, when he unfortunately ended up reaffirming that word vomit in a way, I admit I was disappointed. Because based on the public persona he has shown us over the years, he appears to be a kind and good man who is enormously talented, exceptionally bright, wildly funny, beautifully compassionate, endlessly creative, a consummate professional, is a truly committed family man, and overall seems to have a good heart. So when he clapped softly after Jared said those horrific things and then the second part of his reply came, reaffirming some parts of the rant, my heart sank. Massive disappointment was I think a better way to describe how I felt. But ultimately, I realize he's a guy who is human, who gets thrown up in front of an audience with these panels and is expected to give Ted Talk type answers on the fly, got his explanation hijacked and turned into something just beyond words or understanding of just wtf that was, and had to think quickly on his feet while also dealing with possible constraints they may have to work around. And while it is disappointing and I'm not excusing it, I also understand the circumstances. Plus, as much as I respect the man, his words aren't the end all be all for me, not on this topic or any other. Would it be nice if Jared decides to go off in a future panel about a scene that has nothing to do with him and then turns it into an unintentional bite size homophobic/acephobic rant for Jensen to either cut him off and change the subject, or not reaffirm it at the very least, or basically just do better? Sure. But I'm not hanging my hat on it, one way or the other. I just always hope for the best where he's concerned and continue to be optimistic. I still respect him, I still enjoy his work and hearing his thoughts on said work (and just life, really, he just genuinely seems like a very cool individual), and I continue to wish the best for him. Jared...it's going to take me a bit longer for that one. I genuinely don't think he meant his words to be harmful. I really believe he thought he was helping to set down a line about romance in general on the show, was helping out his good buddy who was reeking of absolute discomfort, and just jumped in like Superman to try and save the day. I don't think he's anti-LGBTQIA+ like I've seen said on here; I think he just didn't do exactly that: think. But still, I think I need more time to process all of my thoughts on that particular part of the shitshow this was.

But back to Destiel. My whole very long point in this is that I get why people are tired of the whole "open to interpretation" answer when it comes to a canon event. (because remember, kids, canon is something that is an official part of the story and no matter what the haters/invalidaters try to tell you, if it happened on your television screen, it's canon; the confession scene is part of the official SPN story) A lot of people have said that they're just done with a queer love story being "open to interpretation" while a hetero love story no one questions what it is, and they're 100% right. This is very tiring indeed and it's not right. It's 2021 and this shit is still happening. I think that's why Jared's words (as well as the panel audience's reactions to them) sat with me for so long and it bothered me so much. Because we're still here. And had a female character said ILY to Dean instead of Cas (regardless of him being a non-binary angel in a male presenting body, just thought I'd mention that for a second), no one would question it. Even people who may not necessarily like the ship or the fact that this woman just told Dean she loves him. Even people who may have a different ship for Dean that they prefer (or for the female character). No one would question its intent. It would never be "open for interpretation". And yet, here we are. The only thing I can say on this is that when it comes to SPN, I've learned after this whole year to manage my expectations when it comes to that. I think moving forward, depending on how any future SPN-related projects go (like Jensen keeps talking about down the line), and depending on how rigid these alleged constraints still are when it does happen, I don't expect we'll get anything more than the "open to interpretation" line when it comes to Jensen, "the show isn't about that" when it comes to Jared, and Misha still out there with the steel chair of confirmation to knock the haters and toxic homophobes back like he's been basically doing for the last year. I hope for the best but I also expect less if that makes sense. And as many of you have said, at least we have Misha and he is one half of that scene, he is the actor who purposely performed that scene with a certain intent, he fought for that scene, he worked with the writer of that scene, and he appears to be a compassionate individual who fully understands now just how important that scene is to a lot of people. And hopefully, just a smidgen of hope really, this W*B/C*W line will change when it comes to the future of the SPN universe.

As for the ship, regardless of what Jared said, regardless of some of what Jensen's reply turned out being, he still left it open enough for us to see that he's not outright saying "Destiel doesn't exist" like he did once upon a time. As we all have discussed, his outlook on the ship appears to have changed a lot over the years. He may not be coming out and saying "I was wrong, Destiel does exist and it happened on screen on November 5, 2020, mark your calendars hellers, we're doing this" but he's also not saying "hey, it never happened and y'all are crazy, two dudes wanting to fuck each other? i'm out." He has not changed his position since the confession scene happened, if anything I think he maybe talks a little less about it now than he did when it first aired? He still is very much down the middle and wanting people to read it how they want to. Like he said, it's like when someone looks at a painting, he doesn't want to tell them how they should see it. (which funnily enough, I think iirc Misha said something similar to this in his panel with Alex at DenCon - minefield of constraints, anyone?) And as we know, television is a form of visual media aka visual art. So while people might look at this reply of Jensen's as damaging to Destiel or as confirmation that the ILY is not romantic, I'm looking at it from the other end where it absolutely is implying but without saying it outright that yes, the ILY absolutely can be read as romantic (which it is because we know that was the intent in the script and in the performance for the scene) and is not at all damaging to Destiel in any way, shape, or form. The people who see the confession as romantic are not crazy. Those who go out of their way to tell you that it didn't happen and you're crazy if you see the ILY as anything other than brotherly or platonic are.

It's been there all along:

And once again, even though Jensen said he didn't play Dean as knowing how Cas felt about him until Cas actually says it, he also didn't say how Dean felt. And let's not forget (aside from Jacting Joices), the show very purposely did not have Dean answer back, one way or the other. They very purposely had time constraints in that scene to where Dean couldn't fully process everything he was being told, with the ILY at the end of it. They very purposely used the line "can't reciprocate" for Dean in the script, not "doesn't" or "won't".

And while I can be a bi-Dean truther by trade (sometimes), and I hate to give this next idiot any credit (Adam Williams has briefly entered the chat everybody), I do believe Adam was right but only to a point. Like Jensen said, Cas' love superseded everything because not only was it "heavenly" but it was unconditional. Now if we look at Dean's end of it, he may not be sexually attracted to Cas (though I tend to side eye that, 8x07 clean up scene anyone?) but he definitely loves him. You can't give me Jackles and this:

This:

And this:

And expect me not to side eye you with a smattering of disbelief when you try to tell me that this is all brotherly love.

They had him ignore Sam because he was so devastated after that confession. Sam! When people were disappearing. They didn't have to have Sam calling in that moment. They could have not had Dean crying in that scene but only being in shock. They could have not had the fakeout call with Lucifer (who apparently suddenly needed an open door for access to the bunker? what? was he demoted in The Empty?). They could have told Jensen to take it easy on his knees and slowly ascend the stairs or they could have chosen not to show it at all. But they did. All along, Dean's feelings have been there:

And until Jensen says "Dean absolutely does not have those types of feelings for Cas, I know he didn't because I never played it that way" (which I will then be sending him my huge Jacting Joices file along with my Destiel dissertation that I've been working on for the past year that will be for his eyes only with a post-it note on top in black magic marker asking "WHAT'S ALL THIS THEN?"), I will forever yell from the rooftops, mountain summits, and any other tall peak really that Dean absolutely loved Cas back.

So hang in there, peeps. No matter what this new con brings us. Know that Destiel is canon (again, the confession scene happened, it is an official part of the story, even Jared can't magic Walker 'y'all' smile his way out of that one...yeah, I'm still processing and part of my process is sarcasm, deal with it) and it was written (and acted, and even filmed - see the empty chair next to Alt!Charlie, see the empty car of Eileen's, see the dropped eggs from Stevie, see the dropped phone from Eileen, see the massive truth bomb drop from Cas before he hits Dean with the ILY, see the empty chair from in front of Dean in the dungeon, see Cas disappearing in front of Dean's eyes vs Alt!Charlie not seeing Stevie or Sam not seeing Eileen when they disappear) with romantic intent. No matter what is said, they chose to film this portion of the story and air it so it appeared on all of our television screens. They chose to let it become part of the official SPN story. We're not crazy and Destiel absolutely exists.

Stay positive, gang. <3

#destiel #deancas #dean x cas #spn #destiel meta #kind of?#denver con 2021 #spnposts #spn denver con 2021 #jared critical #jensen critical

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

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an ill-fitting definition

rating: M words: 4.3k relationships: jongeorgie, jontim, jonmartin, background wtgfs additional tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, scottish safehouse period, canon asexual character, fluff, kissing, implied sexual content, rumors and misconceptions

written for weeks two/three of @archivalpride for the prompts identity and doubt!

cw for misconceptions about asexuality, assumptions made about somebody’s sexuality, rumors and outing somebody without their knowledge, non-explicit/implied sexual content, mention of canonical character death, mention of canonical stalking and paranoia, gossip (including of the sexual nature), food, very mild blood, mild internalized acephobia

ao3 link in source

It’s three weeks and two days after they began dating, when Georgie picks up Jon’s hand where it’s clasped in hers and asks with plain curiosity in her voice, so does the ring, y’know, mean anything?, that Georgie hears the word asexual cross Jon’s lips for the first time.

It’s not a word she’s unfamiliar with; she’s run in enough LGBTQ spaces in her time in uni that she has a good idea of the breadth of identities that are out there. She rubs her thumb across Jon’s ring and thinks, in the voice of the gender and equality training instructor with sharp red heels and a “fun” black dress who’d stood in front of the seminar she’d been mandated to take for one of her courses:

Asexuality. A lack of sexual attraction. An aversion or repulsion to sexual activities.

It had been a small word on a large black-and-white slide, crammed in next to aromanticism and overcrowded by a myriad of other sexual identities discussed at length. It had been… quite a comprehensive training, Georgie thinks as she quits fidgeting with Jon’s ring and instead threads their fingers together. For a moment, she considers asking what he means anyway, but she quickly dismisses the thought. She wants to be supportive, and as Jon looks at her with open, trusting eyes and a faint smile, she decides that she knows enough. She doesn’t want to make it awkward, and with things like these, she’s found that asking Jon to explain his feelings in plain terms can be… well, awkward is certainly a word for it. Best just not to bring it up, she decides.

Still, she feels the need to ask, “Can I kiss you?” because the red no sex sign blinking on and off in her head is frustratingly vague on what, exactly, is contained within that stipulation. When Jon voices his assent, she tips her head up and presses a quick kiss to his chin before kissing him on the lips, wiping the disgruntled look off them.

So yes to kissing, she thinks, tucking that away next to no sex. Yes kissing, no sex. Yes holding hands, she adds as she squeezes Jon’s hand in hers and he smiles at her, warm and soft, that special side of Jon that she only sees on occasion. No pet names, she adds a week later when she tries out sweetheart and Jon’s nose wrinkles with displeasure. No foot rubs, when Jon swats at her and says, between giggles, that he’s awfully ticklish. Yes back rubs. Yes cuddling. No PDA. No touching with wet or sticky hands. Yes brushing hair.

That’s as far as she gets before, one year and two months after she begins dating Jonathan Sims, she stops. After which point she stops keeping track, because, well. There’s really no point anymore, is there?

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, burying his head in his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tim says quickly, holding his hands in the air in a placating gesture. He scoots a few inches away from Jon on the couch for good measure, unsure just how much space Jon needs right now. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize—I should apologize. I should have asked first.”

“It’s just—” Jon makes a frustrated noise, and when he takes his hands away his cheeks are dark and he won’t meet Tim’s eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s okay,” Tim repeats, watching with a twisting feeling in his stomach as Jon apparently notices that the button of his trousers is still undone and quickly goes to redo it. His eyes follow the movements of Jon’s hands automatically, and just as automatically, he notes the distinct lack of a tent in the front of Jon’s trousers. The same… cannot be said for his own. Particularly after nearly twenty minutes of kissing, which Tim had very much enjoyed.

Christ, had Jon been uncomfortable with that as well? All in a rush, Tim says, “Was the kissing bad too?” Then, he winces—fuck, that sounded accusatory—and adds, “It- it’s okay if it was, I just- I didn’t know, and I don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable, Jon.”

“No, the- the kissing was fine, it’s just...” Jon makes an aborted motion with his hands, like he’s trying and failing to find the words.

“... complicated?” Tim supplies.

Jon nods mutely.

“That’s okay,” Tim says, and he finds that he means it. “We don’t have to do anything more than kissing if you don’t want to.”

“I- I don’t…” Jon worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s searching for the right words, the crease in his forehead deepening every moment he fails to find them. Finally, he lets out a long, labored breath, pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and says, “Yes, that… that might be best.”

Tim studies Jon’s face. It’s pinched and a bit stiff, like Jon would very much like to crawl out of his skin or melt into a puddle and disappear. “You sure?” he feels compelled to ask, placing a hand carefully on Jon’s knee. “You, uh. You seem a bit unsure.”

Jon sits there a moment more, spine straight and rigid, before melting slightly against Tim’s hand, his face slipping into something more relaxed but no less unhappy. “Yes.” He hesitates a moment, then says, a bit stiltedly, “I’m, um. I’m asexual. Since we’re already talking about this, I… I may as well get that out in the open as well.”

Oh. A few pieces slot into place, and Tim says with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than necessary, “Oh. Why didn’t you tell—?” He cuts himself off and offers Jon a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you for telling me.”

“We’re dating,” Jon says bluntly. “It was going to come up eventually.”

“Still.” Tim shrugs, then reaches for Jon’s hand and holds it tightly in his. “Thanks.” He hesitates only a moment before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Jon’s nose. Jon makes a disgruntled noise, which Tim thinks is adorable. Then, because it feels appropriate, he says, “Y’know, Danny… Danny was asexual. Aromantic too, actually. We had a big talk about it a few years ago where he sort of… laid it all out for me.” No sex, no romance, no thank you, had been the overall gist of it. Tim makes a new box for Jon and fills it in with the words no sex, yes romance, it’s complicated.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly, with that same sort of sadness in his eyes that he gets every time Tim mentions Danny, something much gentler than pity and significantly less cloying. If Tim notices the faint discomfort that accompanies it, something that whispers that isn’t my definition of asexuality, we’re not the same, you don’t understand if one were to listen closely enough, he doesn’t let on.

Tim does, however, notice the discomfort in Jon’s eyes—now mixed with anger—when two years, six months, and seven days later, he accuses Tim of murder. But by then, their days of hand-holding and nose-kissing are far, far behind them.

“Maybe he just needs to get laid,” Melanie says with a groan, lying on Georgie’s couch and staring at the ceiling. The Admiral is curled up on her lap, purring contentedly. She scratches absentmindedly under his chin.

“What, Jon?” Georgie appears in Melanie’s field of vision, wielding a damp wooden spoon and frowning.

“No. No.” Melanie shakes her head emphatically. “Martin. He’s been all… sulky lately. I think he’s still upset that Jon came to me instead of him for help, but I don’t know why he has to be all… touchy about it.”

“Ah. Well, you know, he is a bit hung up on Jon. At least, according to you.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Melanie says grumpily. “Besides, didn’t you say that Jon went on about Martin, like, all the time? Sounds like he’s got it bad as well. Maybe they could just… y’know.”

“Melanie.”

“What?” Melanie tries to shoot Georgie a glare, but it’s obstructed by the back of the couch. “I’m on my last nerve, Georgie!”

“I know, honey. But Jon’s really not… well, he’s not very open about these sorts of things. Getting him to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth when we were together.”

“It still baffles me that you used to date.”

“He’s very sweet when you get to know him!” There’s a pause, a few clatters from the kitchen. “Besides, even if he and Martin got around to talking, Jon… well, he doesn’t.”

Melanie frowns. “Doesn’t what?”

“Have sex.”

“Really?” Melanie sits up, disturbing the Admiral, who lets out an irritated mrpp before adjusting himself accordingly and curling back up on her lap. “So when you were together…?”

Georgie shakes her head. “Nope. Never.”

“Huh.” Melanie thinks for a moment. “Is he like… religious or something?”

Georgie chuckles. “Jon? No, not at all. He’s asexual.”

“Isn’t that like… that thing that sponges are? Where they self-reproduce?”

“Seriously?”

Melanie scowls at the incredulous look Georgie’s giving her. “What? I’m not being a- a dick, I’ve just never heard of it before.”

“You were a YouTuber. Your job was to be internet famous.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

Georgie shoots Melanie a grin. “Sorry. Basically, it means that Jon doesn’t do sex. Like… at all. He just… doesn’t.”

“Huh,” Melanie says again.

“Yeah.” Georgie turns back to the stove. “Now, come here. Tell me if there’s too much salt?”

“Sorry Admiral,” Melanie whispers as she deposits him onto the floor and crosses the room to wrap her arms around Georgie’s waist from behind and take the bite of sauce on the spoon Georgie holds out for her. “Mm, tastes great. As always.”

And in the back of her mind, Melanie adds another line to the section labeled Jonathan Sims and writes, with careful handwriting, he doesn’t.

Although… according to Georgie, Jon doesn’t.

Martin pauses the tape and rubs his hands over his eyes. His cheeks are burning red, and he takes a few minutes to just breathe.

Doesn’t what? Doesn’t date? Doesn’t kiss? Doesn’t—

Martin stops that train of thought before it goes any further, the flush on his face growing in intensity. It’s none of my business, he tells himself as he ejects the tape and turns it over in his hands a few times before sliding it back into the small box it had come from.

He still can’t help but think about it. He thinks about it before the Unknowing, when Jon hesitates just a moment before wrapping him in a tight hug and whispering, I… I’ll be back, Martin. Then we can talk. He thinks about it when Jon’s in his coma, when Martin sits at his bedside and loses himself in daydreams and what-ifs. He thinks about it when Jon’s hand is clasped in his and he’s leading Martin out of cloying white fog and sea-salt air, his shirt speckled with bits of dark liquid that Martin tries to pretend isn’t blood. He thinks about it on the way to the safehouse, Jon leaning against his side, Martin’s hand clasped firmly in his.

He thinks about it a lot, in the confines of the wooden walls that let in the growing chill of the Scottish countryside.

Jon doesn’t.

He knows what Jon does. Jon makes him breakfast most days, eggs and toast and sometimes waffles, which Martin’s always considered a guilty pleasure but that he’s had more times in the past week and a half than he’s had for the past ten years. Jon puts his head on Martin’s shoulder when they sit on the couch and read, flipping through the dusty novels they’d found tucked in cardboard boxes underneath the bed that Jon had wrinkled his nose at but has been slowly making his way through nevertheless. Jon clings to Martin like his life depends on it when they sleep, and Martin will wake in the morning with one arm slung across his chest, a leg between his, and a sizeable portion of hair tickling at his nose.

And, nine days into their stay, Jon smiles at Martin as he shuffles into the kitchen in the morning, stands on his toes, and presses a soft kiss to Martin’s lips.

“Um,” Martin says eloquently, still half-asleep and trying to process what he’s 98% sure is their first kiss. He’d be 100% sure except for the fact that Jon kissed him like it was nothing, like it was easy, like it was something they do every morning.

The smile slips from Jon’s face, and he looks nervous. “I- I’m sorry, I should have asked first—”

“No, no, it’s- it’s okay,” Martin hastens to say, taking one of Jon’s hands in his and squeezing gently. “Just- just surprised, that’s all. I, um. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to kiss me, given that we haven’t…” He gestures absently, his face heating up. Stop talking, Martin. “Yeah,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” Jon says with a frown. “I… apologize for giving you that impression. I- I love you, Martin—I have no problems with kissing you.”

Warmth courses through Martin, as it always does when Jon tells him that he loves him. It all feels so unreal sometimes that he’s here, with Jon, away from it all and living in quiet domesticity. “Oh,” he says, face flushed. “A- all right, then. Great!”

“Great,” Jon echoes.

“Just- just thought maybe you didn’t—”

Martin clamps his mouth shut, face heating up more, this time in embarrassment. Shut up, Martin.

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t… what?”

“Um.” Martin rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Kiss?”

Jon looks at Martin blankly. “Oh. Well, I- I do.”

“Right, yeah, I- I put that together. When we, um. You know.”

Jon looks amused. “Kissed?”

“Yep, that,” Martin squeaks out.

They look at each other for a moment before dissolving into giggles. Jon presses another kiss to Martin’s lips and finishes making the waffles and kisses Martin again when he hands Jon his tea, and it’s really quite lovely indeed.

So Martin adds Jon kisses to his mental list of Jon does and finds a sole remainder on the list of Jon doesn’t. And it’s fine with him, he decides, if Jon doesn’t want to have sex. He just wants Jon, in whatever way Jon will have him.

Jon doesn’t do sex, he thinks as he kisses Jon goodnight.

So, three days later, when they’re on the couch and they’ve kissed until Martin is red-faced and breathless and Jon pulls back with a pinched expression on his face, Martin assumes—with hot embarrassment coursing through him—that he’s somehow gone too far and strayed into sex territory and made Jon uncomfortable.

Then, Jon says with cheeks dark and eyes focused resolutely on Martin’s chest, “Martin, would… would you like to move to the bedroom?” and Martin’s thoughts grind to a halt.

“Sorry, what?” is all he can think to say.

Jon’s cheeks grow incrementally darker. “I am asking,” he says slowly, like the words are clunky and unwieldy in his mouth, “if you would like to have sexual intercourse. With me, of course, I- I hope that was implied.”

Martin’s aware that his mouth is quite literally hanging open in shock. He closes it quickly before swallowing and saying, “I… yeah, Jon, I- I’d love that, but I thought you—”

He clamps his mouth shut again, a touch too late. Jon’s forehead creases in confusion and he says, “I what?”

Martin hems and haws for a moment before biting the bullet and saying, all in a rush, “I thought you didn’t like sex.”

Jon’s frown deepens. “What? Why?”

And god, Martin doesn’t want to admit that he’s been thinking about office gossip for nearly a year, but he’s dug his grave—he may as well lie in it. He sighs, worries his hands on his lap, and says, “I… may have listened to a tape where Melanie said that Georgie said that you… didn’t.”

Jon looks at Martin blankly for a moment before his expression flattens into something that’s equal parts irritated and resigned. “Ah. Right. That… that makes sense, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Martin says emphatically, placing his hand atop Jon’s and squeezing. “I- I didn’t mean to hear it; I was listening to the statements and it was just there.”

“No, it’s… it’s not your fault.” Jon sighs and rubs a hand across his eyes. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

“What?”

Jon makes an aborted, dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’ve… never been good at explaining my own preferences. I never did with Georgie, just… told her I was asexual and left it at that. I suppose she took that to mean that I, er. Didn’t.”

Asexual. Martin has a vague notion of what that means—he’s been in enough online LGBTQ spaces to have encountered the word before, but he’s never really looked into it much himself. If pressed, he thinks he’d also assume it meant that Jon didn’t. Something a bit guilty twists within him at that thought, amplified by his next thought that Georgie shouldn’t have assumed, because, well, that’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it? Still, he feels the need to voice it; he squeezes Jon’s hand again and says, “It’s not your fault that she just- just made assumptions about what you wanted, Jon.”

“Yes, but it’s my fault that I never corrected her.” Jon makes a face. “Or Tim, now that I think about it. I… I suppose I’m just not very good at talking about these things. Particularly because my own preferences are…” Jon’s pained expression deepens. “Christ, I don’t want to say complicated again, but there really is no other word for it.”

That’s not your fault either, Martin wants to say, but he knows Jon will just contradict him again, and he’ll repeat himself, and then they’ll just be talking in circles, and that won’t help anything. It’s frustrating, but it’s the truth. Still, Martin finds the words waiting on his lips when he opens his mouth, so he shuts it again and thinks for a moment, promising himself later. I’ll tell him later. Finally, he says carefully, “Do you… do you want to talk about it? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I don’t want to assume.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Well, I don’t want to keep assuming, I suppose, given that I’ve already assumed quite a lot.” Quieter: “Sorry, again.”

“It’s fi—” Jon cuts off, takes a breath. “Th… thank you, Martin.” He hesitates a moment, then says haltingly, “I- I do want to talk about it, but I don’t—” He makes a frustrated noise. “—I don’t know how.”

“Okay,” Martin says after a moment. “You said it’s complicated, yeah?” When Jon nods mutely, he continues, “Would it help if you described how you feel right now? That’s- that’s less complicated, right?”

Jon’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “I… suppose.”

“All right, then.” Martin makes a go-on gesture, then rests his hand atop Jon’s and applies a gentle pressure.

Jon takes a few deep breaths, squints at nothing, makes a few wordless noises, then says bluntly, “I want to have sex with you.”

Martin tries really, really hard not to blush, but he doesn’t think he quite succeeds given how hot his face feels when he says, “Right, okay.” His voice is a bit higher-pitched than normal; he hopes that Jon doesn’t notice. “And, um. Do you always… want to have sex with me? Or just right now.”

Jon grimaces. “That’s where it gets complicated.” He makes an I-don’t-know gesture with his free hand and says, “No? Yes? I don’t know, Martin. I’m told that not wanting sex all the time is- is normal, that- that you have to be in the mood, but apparently I’m just supposed to know when I’ll be in the mood and when I won’t be, and that- that doesn’t really work for me.”

“Are you—” Martin cringes internally, but forces the words out. “—in the mood right now?”

“Well,” Jon grumbles, “not anymore, but I was. And it’s complicated, because even if I am, I- I don’t always want to be touched, but how do you explain that to someone, how- how do you tell someone that it’s mostly no but sometimes yes and there’s a very good chance that I might change my mind halfway through and decide that it’s no after all?”

“I think,” Martin says patiently, “that you just say that.”

Jon gives Martin a look. “Martin.”

“What? It’s true!” Martin gives Jon as reassuring a smile as he can muster. “It made sense to me, at least.”

“Yes, but that’s not—” Jon makes a frustrated noise. “It’s not whether or not it makes sense, it’s whether or not somebody is willing to put up with a sexual partner who doesn’t know whether or not they’re going to want to have sex on any given day, whether they- they’ll be repulsed or interested or want to give but not receive or the other way around or- or something else that I haven’t thought of but that will likely happen because consistency is, apparently, off the cards for me entirely.”

“Hey, hey,” Martin says gently, placing a hand on Jon’s shoulder and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. “Jon, look at me.” When Jon looks, albeit reluctantly, Martin continues, “I can’t speak for other people, and I- I can’t tell you how to feel, but I can tell you how I feel, and I… I’m willing. No, more than willing—I love you, Jon, all of you, and if this is how you feel, then I love that about you too. Whatever you’re willing to give me, it… it’ll be enough. You’re enough.”

Jon’s cheeks darken and he looks away. After a long moment, he says in a stiff voice, “Well. Thank you, Martin.” Then, a bit softer: “I… I love you too.” He looks at Martin then and offers him a small, weak smile. “It’s… well, it’s still awkward, but it’s not quite as bad—talking about all of this—as I thought it would be.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Talk to me about it, that is.”

Jon’s smile turns a bit hesitant. “So you would really be okay if I… if I never asked again? To, er. To have sex.”

“Yes,” Martin says, without hesitation.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly. “And- and if I said that I did? Want to? That… that would be okay too? Even if I’d already said that I didn’t?”

“Yep.”

Jon looks down at his hands where they’re twisted tightly in the hem of his jumper, then back up at Martin. “All right.” He hesitates a moment, then says, “And if… if I said that I wanted to have sex… now?”

Ah. It looks like Martin’s not done blushing quite yet. “Yep, that- that’s fine with me,” he squeaks out, then cringes internally. Fine? Really?

Thankfully, Jon doesn’t seem offended; if anything, he seems amused, his mouth quirking up into a small smirk. “All right, then.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Martin’s lips, soft and chaste and ever-so-slightly lingering before he pulls away. “I, er. I think I’d like to just kiss for a bit, though.” His smile turns teasing. “Foreplay is very important, after all.”

Martin groans and gives Jon a look, his face likely fully tomato-red by now. “Jon.”

“Need to make sure we’re fully in the mood before beginning proceedings—”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” Martin says, a giggle slipping out around the words. Then, because he’s nothing if not a little mischievous himself, he leans forward and captures Jon’s lips in a kiss, significantly less chaste and a touch more insistent, pressing until Jon is leaned back against the arm of the couch and Martin is hovering over him. Martin disengages from the kiss so he can marvel at the flushed, wide-eyed expression on Jon’s face. “Like that?” he says innocently.

Jon blinks up at him for a few seconds, like he’s not entirely sure how to process everything in front of him, before he smiles, a warm, happy thing that captures Martin’s heart entirely and steals it away. “I do believe that was adequate, yes. Perhaps you should do it again though, just to make sure.”

So Martin does. I love him, he thinks as he kisses Jon on the couch and kisses him again on the bed, kisses him in the spot between his shoulder blades where he always carries tension and in the dip of his clavicle and on the inside of his thigh. And when he’s curled up next to Jon after, he presses another kiss to the crown of Jon’s head and wraps his arms around him and quietly discards his mental lists of does and doesn’t. He’ll start from scratch, he decides, and after a moment’s thought, he comes up with two more lists, upon which it’s surprisingly easy to add item after item after item.

Jon likes to be kissed. Jon likes eggs and toast, but not jam, and likes his tea black and slightly oversteeped. Jon doesn’t like wool because he finds it itchy. Jon doesn’t like white wine, but he likes red, the kinds that are too dry for Martin’s tastes.

Jon likes Martin, and Martin likes him too. So, so much. And even when things change, when Jon finds a white wine he likes at a restaurant they visit and he takes his tea once with honey and enjoys it and he goes through a period where he doesn’t enjoy open-mouthed kisses and Martin adjusts his lists accordingly, that remains.

#archivalpride #the magnus archives #jongeorgie #jontim #jonmartin #tma #jonathan sims #tim stoker #georgie barker #melanie king #martin blackwood #my fic #my writing

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strxwberrylemonxde · 3 years

Text

Coming Out as Asexual

Featuring: Bakugou, Todoroki

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Comfort

Warning: Mentions of internalized aphobia/acephobia

Word Count: 1.97k

A/N - This one was a little self-indulgent, I used to struggle with something like this and I thought maybe writing it out would help me release all the bad feelings! I was originally gonna make this with five characters, but the first two ended up being really long, so I'll make a part two with the rest of them. I hope you guys enjoy it! <33

It’s common knowledge that Bakugou was perceptive, especially when it came to you

So the moment he saw the shift in your behavior he knew something was up

For the past couple of months you had been struggling to come to terms with your sexuality

You wanted to be proud of yourself, but there was always the lingering thought that there was something wrong with you, that maybe your mind was broken, or that you weren’t normal

Left and right you were surrounded by the idea that having little interest in sex was “unnatural” and that “you just haven’t found the right person yet”

You felt isolated and invalid

You started to hate yourself for not fitting into society's expectations

And you feared that your relationship with Bakugou would start to have less value if you were to come out to him

Which was probably why you were avoiding the topic with him

“Hey dumbass, what’s wrong with you?”

The two of you were together in his dorm for a little study date and he noticed that you were spacing out

“Hm? Nothing, it’s nothing. My mind’s just wandering.”

“Don’t lie to me babe, I know when something’s up”

“Really Katsu, it’s nothing, don’t worry about me, I’m okay”

Bakugou knew that was bullshit, and he hated being kept in the dark

It was his job to worry about you, hell, that’s all he ever did when you guys got together, he wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself, even when he didn’t say it out loud

He wanted you to know that you could always come to him with issues you face, even with his abrasive attitude, he would always be there to carry you through the dark

He did this because you showed him how to, and he wanted to reciprocate that same energy

He decided to let it go the first time because he didn’t wanna push you too far

He knew something was up, but he also knew you were adamant on keeping whatever it was that was bugging you to yourself, so he decided to wait before he pushed further

However, as time went on your thoughts began to boil over

You felt like you needed to rip the bandaid off and tell him

Better he leaves you now than later on

“Babe, can I… can I talk to you for a minute?”

The two of you were in his dorm again for another study date, but you were preoccupied with your fears to do work

He hummed and turned around, looking up at you expectantly

He knew you would cave eventually

“Um, you know how you asked if there was something wrong the other day?”

“Tch, yeah. Are you finally ready to tell me what’s wrong with you dumbass?”

You started to shake because you knew what would be coming the moment the words escaped your lips

“Uh, well, it’s- it’s, um”

Your eyes began to water because you didn’t want him to leave, you really loved Bakugou, and it pained you to think about watching him leave

Bakugou was taken aback by your body’s reaction and right before he was about to say something, you finally spit it out

“I-I’m asexual”

You hang your head down in shame, covering your face with your arms

You didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole

Bakugou was so confused by this

He really didn’t understand why you were crying over this

He was silent for a moment and that scared you, so you quickly started apologizing

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I’m not normal, but please, don’t leave, my mind is just a little brok-”

That’s when you felt his hands on your arms, prying them away from your face and he tilted your head up so you could look at him

“Are you stupid or something? What in the hell makes you think I would leave you because of who you are??”

You tried to speak but no words came out

“AND WHO THE HELL TOLD YOU THAT YOU WERE BROKEN? CUS I’LL BLAST THEM ALL THE WAY TO HELL!”

More tears fell from your eyes as you looked at him and he softened

“Idiot, I don’t care about that. If that’s who you think you are, then that’s who you are. You’re not broken for feeling that way, for being you.”

He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, swiping at the stray tears that fell from your eyes

“But what about y-”

“And if you think for one damn second that I would leave you over this then you’re wrong dumbass. I don’t want you for your body and I sure as hell don’t believe that sex determines the value of our relationship. Tch, I love you for you stupid, I don’t need to have sex to prove it. AND IF ANYONE DOESN’T RESPECT THAT, I’M KICKING THEIR ASS! So stop crying, you’re valid and I love you just the way you are.”

You never understood why sex was such a big part of teenage culture

You’ve seen it all the time in teen films and in parts of your everyday life, but you failed to understand the appeal of it, you felt indifferent about the topic

By the time you started high school at U.A. you’ve heard about all sorts of scandals and gossip dealing with these types of things (mostly from Mina, who loves to spill tea)

You’d hear about third-year students doing it, saying it was “magical” and “perfect” and they made it out to be some sort of fairytale, but it was never something you identified with or had any interest in identifying with

By the time your third year rolled around, you would hear stories from some of your friends and acquaintances, sharing their experiences with their own s/o, and again, you posed no reactions to them

You and your boyfriend Shoto had been dating since your guys’ first year at U.A. and the two of you never expressed interest in taking things to the “next level” as some of your friends put it

You were perfectly happy with where you were currently in your relationship and you didn’t want anything to change

One day, you and Mina were hanging out with some other third-year girls from another class, Mina made friends with them during a training session and instantly clicked

You guys were together in your dorm hanging out when the topic suddenly arose

“Sooooo, Mina, found anybody interesting lately??” One of them asked

“Nope, no one is worthy of such beauty 💅 But enough about me, what’s up with you and that one third-year from Class 3-B?”

She blushed a deep shade of red at Mina’s question

“Well, we were at this party together with a few of our mutual friends right? Annnddd let’s just say one thing led to another and…”

You zoned out

Your brain was able to process a few of the details mentioned and you tried to feign interest

Meanwhile, Mina was eating the story up

“NO WAY?? WHAT DID IT FEEL LIKE? DID IT HURT? ARE YOU GUYS SEEING EACH OTHER NOW?”

“Oh hush Mina, it’s no big deal. I’m more interested to hear about y/n over here, they’ve been real quiet lately. I know you and Todoroki have been together for so long! Have you guys done it yet??”

You fidgeted in discomfort

“Uh, nope… We haven’t done anything really.”

“WHAT? No way?! For as long as you guys have been together and you guys HAVEN’T done anything?? Come on y/n, you can’t be serious!”

Were you guys supposed to be doing something during this stage of the relationship?

“Nope, I’m serious… we haven’t done anything. I’m not really interested in that kind of stuff 😅”

“Really?? What if he gets bored? Not to be mean or anything y/n but you have to keep him wanting more if you want him to stay. Give and take, ya know?”

That’s when one of the other girls chimed in

“Exactly! And if you don’t, I might have to do it for you~”

You and Mina both went silent for a moment, she knew you had no interest in that sort of stuff so she never asked you for details on that between you and Shoto

Mina cleared her throat and tried to come up with a flimsy excuse to make the girls leave, telling them that you guys had some work to catch up on

“Oh my god y/n I’m so sorry they said that to you! That was absolutely out of line and I never should’ve-”

“It’s all good Mina, don’t worry about it, but that interaction has me very exhausted so I think I’m gonna take a nap or something.”

After Mina left, you went to work researching what was wrong with you

You hadn’t given it much thought before, but what Shoto did get bored of you? What if he was already bored?

You didn’t want to lose him to someone else, it made your heart hurt

That’s when you came across the word, asexual

“Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction to others or a low interest in sexual activity”

What bugged you about the term most was how nicely it fit you

For the longest time, you were thought of as a prude, or picky, or boring

But Shoto never thought of you as any of these, he loved you for you, but what if he was starting to get sick and tired of you

There was a knock on your door, a voice following, “Hey baby, it’s me. May I come in?”

You had to make a choice, it was now or never, you didn’t want to go against what your body and mind wanted, but you didn’t Shoto to leave over something like this either

You opened the door and greeted him with a sweet smile, “Hey Sho, come in! What’s up?”

“Mina told me to come by, she said you might be feeling down, do you wanna talk about it?”

You gulped as he guided you toward your bed, the both of you sitting on the edge of it as he took your hand in his, brushing soothing circles with his thumb

“Sho… does it bother you that we don’t do what other couples do?”

Shoto furrowed his eyebrows in confusion

“Are we not a normal couple?”

You had to explain to him what you meant, in terms of the physical aspects of relationships

“I see… I thought you weren’t interested in that type of stuff?”

“I’m not… I’ve done some research on this and I think I’m… I think I’m asexual”

You had to explain what that meant but once you did he was smiling at you

“Thank you for feeling safe enough to tell me y/n”

You right now: ????

“You’re not angry?”

Now Shoto’s the one going ???

“Why would I be angry?”

“Won’t you get tired of me eventually? I mean, you wouldn’t really be able to have sex with me and stuff and I’m afraid you’re gonna get sick of that and… and leave…”

“y/n, I don’t think that just because we don’t do any of those things doesn’t make us a ‘normal couple,’ I fell in love with you, not your body, and I’m so proud of you for telling me. It couldn’t have been easy to realize that. And before you say anything, no, you’re not broken. I don’t need intercourse in a relationship to love you the way I do right now, please remember that dear.”

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eliemo · 3 years

Text

Love Our Way

Summary: Virgil knew he should have said something right there. But he didn’t, because he knew that would be the end.

Notes: Ace Virgil fic with romantic LAMP

TWs: Mentions of sex but no details. A little bit of internalized acephobia but barely, Virgil just has negative self esteem.

They’d been together a few months now and it had been, without a doubt, the best few months of Virgil’s life.

It’d been a bit nerve wracking in the beginning, those first couple of weeks, as excited and thrilled as he was, Virgil had been extra paranoid about doing something wrong, about giving them any reason to lose feelings for him.

He honestly hadn’t thought it could work at first. Relationships rarely worked out with two people, let alone four. Eventually they would fight, or lose feelings, or decide it was all too complicated. And things would get awkward and they could all end up hating each other and who knew what it would do to Thomas if they could no longer stand to be in the same room—

But they didn’t. By some miracle, that never happened.

Things were...things were perfect, as scared as Virgil had been to use the word. They’d been amazing ever since the anxious side was allowed to join their family, the love and warmth a wonderful kind of overwhelming he’d never felt before, but actually dating the people he loved more than anything, no longer needing to be afraid to express his feelings…

It was more than he’d ever thought he would get. More than he ever thought could be possible. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe it was real.

They fit together like puzzle pieces, making each other stronger, pushing each other to be better, gentle and encouraging, coexisting in peaceful harmony.

Virgil had never felt so welcomed, so surrounded by unconditional support and affection. They showed him just how much he had to offer. For the first time he’d actually felt like he wasn’t just a burden.

It was hard, especially when it took a while to convince himself that he wasn’t invited into the relationship out of convenience, but because they actually wanted him.

But they loved him. He knew that now. They all loved each other, flaws and all.

And, well...Virgil should have known it wouldn't last forever.

Not for him. Because...because that was just the way things were, wasn’t it? He’d made progress, he wasn’t the bad guy anymore, but he was still Anxiety. Things were just destined to go wrong.

He really hadn’t given a single thought. It never crossed his mind as something that could ever be a problem, even when they had initially gotten together. No one else seemed intent on bringing it up, so Virgil had figured they never would.

But then it had. Logan had brought the topic up about a week ago, somewhat awkward but still painfully casual, the conversation simply to discuss everyone’s level of comfort when it came to intimacy.

Which...yeah, Virgil guessed it made sense. They were dating, the four of them happy and comfortable with their relationship, and had been for months now. So obviously sex was going to get brought up eventually. Boundaries needed to be set before...anything actually happened. It was routine for a healthy relationship.

Except Virgil hadn’t actually thought they would ever talk about it. Because he’d known for a long time that he was asexual and he’d just...kind of assumed the others were too.

Which in retrospect, was a stupid conclusion to jump to.

Virgil had known for years now, long before befriending the others. It had taken him a while to be sure, lots of research and panic and overthinking, but he’d eventually grown comfortable with the label. It was just another part of who he was.

But he’d also never really understood why. Thomas wasn’t asexual so it didn’t make any sense for Virgil to have a separate identity.

Unless it was just something all the sides experienced, none of them able to feel that kind of attraction.

But he’d never actually gotten around to asking. No one brought it up, and before the...development in their relationship it never seemed like something that would be an issue. So he’d just assumed, and ran with it.

But clearly that wasn’t the case. Not when Roman and Patton were responding to Logan’s question with varying levels of eagerness and approval, comfortable and willing to take the next step when they were all ready.

And Virgil knew he should have said something right there. They had given him the perfect opportunity to come out, quick and easy, and avoid anything uncomfortable in the future.

But he didn’t. Because...because that would be the end, wouldn’t it?

They would be sweet about it, of course. Thank him for being honest. But if he was the only one who didn’t want that...well, what was the point of him being a part of things?

It was a cruel thing to assume, he knew that. None of them were shallow enough to see sex as something necessary, and he knew they would never force him into anything.

But...but he already offered so little. They already had to jump through so many hoops to accommodate his anxiety, and it wasn’t like he was particularly loving or good at romance, as hard as he tried. As loving and amazing as they were, this could simply be the final straw.

He wanted to be with them. He wanted them in every other way. He loved them more than anything. But he wouldn’t fight it when they ended up distancing themselves from him.

Virgil just wasn’t ready for that heartbreak yet. So he plastered on a fake smile, and nodded along with the others.

He’d tell them tomorrow. The longer he waited, the worse it would be.

“Movie night!” Patton declared, skipping into the living room where Virgil was scrolling aimlessly on his phone. “And don’t think you’re getting out of it this time, Virge!”

Virgil tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted at the phrasing, swallowing against rising panic and sending Patton a smile. It was just movie night, same as every Friday.

It had been two weeks now, and he still hadn’t told them. He’d managed to avoid last week’s movie night with the excuse of an upset stomach, desperately trying not to think about what they could be doing without him.

And now...now he’d have to tell. They’d already be upset he waited this long, he couldn’t put it off any longer.

Besides, they’d all be in the same bed all night, as they often were, relaxed and happy and enjoying each other’s company. They wouldn’t ever force him into something he wasn’t comfortable with, even if they wanted nothing to do with him after he came out.

He’d lied, after all. He should have told them right away.

“I'll be right there,” he said, forcing a smile as Patton made his way upstairs to his bedroom where the others were likely waiting. “Just...give me a second.”

This was it, then. Hopefully afterwards, it wouldn’t be too awkward. Hopefully they would still be willing to keep him around as a friend.

They were all waiting for him by the time he made it to Roman’s room, the three of them sprawled out on the bed in a pile of laughs and smiles, and Virgil’s heart felt like it was trying to break through his chest.

He loved them so much. He wanted nothing more than to forget all of this and be held in their arms, content and warm until the sun came up.

But putting it off wasn’t fair to them. And it wasn’t fair to him either.

“Virgil!” Roman exclaimed, and Virgil felt lightheaded at the fond, excited looks he was being given. “Come help us choose a movie!”

He almost chickened out again, just for a second. But he couldn’t panic. Not until it was out in the open and he could deal with the consequences.

After tonight, he could very well end up alone again. Isolated like a villain.

Why did he have to keep turning out to be different? Why was he always meant to end up alone?

“In a second,” he said, stopping just inside the doorway. “I...I need to say something first, if that’s ok.”

Their smiles dropped slightly, but their gentle, welcoming expressions never wavered. The three of them sat up in bed, scooting forward as Patton nodded.

“Of course, honey,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

He was actually doing this. He just...had to figure out how to start.

Virgil took a breath and stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide how they’d begun to shake. “Just to- just to get it out there to make it easier for you guys...I- I get it if you want to break up with me after this.”

That got their attention, their heads snapping up with wide, wary eyes. Virgil couldn’t quite bring himself to look at them anymore.

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, and god he was shaking so bad. “I’ll understand.”

The silence only stretched on another few seconds before Logan cleared his throat. “We’re listening, Virgil.”

Ok. Ok he could do this. He...really should have planned out what he was going to say first.

“I should have told you right away,” he started. “I know I should have. It’s not fair to you guys and I’m...I’m really sorry that I didn’t. I wasn’t trying to...to lie or- or lead you on or anything, I just...love you guys. A lot. I’ve loved being with you and I wasn’t ready to...you know...ruin that.”

“Virge? What...what did you do, darling?”

It was passed off as a joke, the Prince forcing a small smile, but there was serious concern behind it.

Virgil quickly shook his head. “It’s not...I didn’t realize that it would be, you know, an issue. But you guys want...you want someone who’s not...me. Because- because I’m…”

Say it, just say it.

“I’m asexual. And you guys...I shouldn’t have kept that from you. I’m sorry. I’m just...sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

And that was...it. That was it. They knew now.

They knew, and they could react how they wanted. If they were angry, Virgil wouldn’t blame him. If they were disgusted and demanded he leave...Virgil wouldn’t fight it, no matter how badly it hurt.

He knew them better than to truly assume that would be the case, but the thought was still there.

Furious or not, there was no way they’d trust him enough to keep him in the relationship.

But he had to hold it together until the end of the conversation. He’d escape as soon as they let him, and then...and then he’d readjust to being alone.

Unfortunately, none of them seemed particularly inclined to answer, the silence stretching on a moment too long. He risked a glance up from the floor, hunching his shoulders when he caught Logan’s eye.

“Virgil,” the logical side said. “Come sit down, please.”

He quickly shook his head, taking a step back. He didn’t need a long, drawn out ending to this. He wouldn’t be able to hold it together that long.

“You...you guys don’t have to--”

“Virgil,” Patton cut him off, scooting aside to make room. “Come over here and talk to us.”

And he’d never be able to deny Patton anything, would he? Not when he sounded so desperate.

Virgil moved forward on shaky legs, focusing solely on his breathing to keep himself from crying, ending up seated in between Patton and Logan, Roman pressed up against the moral side.

“This doesn’t need to be a conversation,” he said, just wanting to get out. “I...I said I would understand.”

Virgil jumped when there was a hand against his cheek, Logan suddenly cupping his jaw and turning his head until they were face to face, the logical side’s eyes piercing behind his glasses.

“Virgil,” Logan started, sounding almost breathless. “How...on earth could you think this would end in a break up?”

Virgil blinked, wondering if this was some kind of trick question. “What? I don’t--”

“Darling,” Roman said, and the Prince was suddenly scooting over to sit in front of Virgil, the three of them surrounding him. “You thought we would leave if you came out as Ace?”

Virgil shook his head because no, that...that wasn’t the problem. Not entirely, anyway. “It’s not...guys I lied. You asked me to be in a relationship with you and I didn’t say anything.”

“You did not lie,” Logan said, never dropping his hand from Virgil’s face. “You just were not ready to come out yet. You and I both know there is a substantial difference.”

There was a hand suddenly slipping into his own, and Virgil startled when he realized it was Patton’s, the moral side’s free hand now running fingers through his hair.

“You weren’t comfortable sharing that part of yourself,” he said. “That’s totally ok, sweetheart. No one’s mad at you. I’m just glad you said something before something...happened.”

Logan’s hand suddenly dropped, his eyes big and painfully worried, and Virgil had to force himself not to look away.

“Virgil,” he said slowly. “You do not...owe us anything. Especially not something like sex. If we made you feel like--”

“What? Jesus- no.” Virgil moved his hand away from Patton, pulling his knees up to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut to try to get a hold of himself. “It wasn’t...I just thought...it would be too...t-too much to deal with, you know?”

They weren’t breaking up with him. They weren’t. He’d been stupid to think that. There was no reason he should still be so upset.

He couldn’t make them feel guilty. He couldn’t make them think they’d been the ones to do something wrong when they’d been nothing but perfect. He couldn’t--

“Oh Virgil.”

Too late he realized the tears had started to spill over, his face burning as he pressed a hand against his mouth to try and muffle any treacherous sobs.

There was a pair of arms around him, warm and grounding, and it took Virgil a moment to realize it was Roman, gently guiding him into the embrace. He didn’t fight it, falling limp against the Prince’s chest with a pathetic choking noise.

“S-sorry,” he managed in between sobs. “I’m sorry, I- I don’t know why I’m...I sh-should have told you, I- I thought you’d...I thought you’d run out of reasons to- to want me.”

“We could never,” Roman whispered, holding him tight. Patton moved forward to rub circles along his back, Logan reaching out to squeeze his hand. “You’re beautiful, Virgil. And this doesn’t change a thing.”

It didn’t make sense. None of it made any sense. If one of them had come out, it would be different. But with him...there was already so much to deal with, so much they were forced to handle.

Eventually, it had to get to be too much, right? He’d already figured they’d get fed up with the extra steps they had to take to respect his boundaries, Virgil always a little more wary when it came to being vulnerable.

But they all sounded so...genuine. Princey hadn’t once loosened his hold, still whispering quiet reassurances, Patton was back to running his fingers through Virgil’s hair, pressing kisses to his free hand.

And Logan still held on tight, counting out familiar breathing exercises just loud enough for Virgil to hear, always knowing how to calm him down.

When he finally managed to calm down, taking in deep, shuddering breaths, he reluctantly pulled away from Roman, wiping at his eyes as he stared down at his lap.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I never thought...I wouldn’t have let you guys do anything. I was always gonna tell you eventually I just...kept putting it off.”

“That is quite alright,” Logan said, sounding oddly hesitant. “But I...don’t think I could forgive myself if we had taken the next step without realizing you would not enjoy it.”

Virgil nodded, forcefully pushing down the sickening panic at the thought. “I know. I wouldn’t have let that happen. I promise.”

Patton and Logan both squeezed his hands, Patton tilting forward to press a kiss to his temple before leaning his forehead on Virgil’s shoulder. He allowed himself to lean into the touch, taking another shaky breath before continuing.

“I’m...I am sorry though. If this complicates things.”

Roman cocked his head slightly, frowning. “Complicates things?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, hoping he wasn’t about to refute every wonderful thing that had just been said. “We’re...in a relationship. And you all want...I mean, Roman you’re pretty much all romance, so I know you want--”

He cut himself off, caught completely off guard when Roman started laughing.

“Sorry,” the Prince said quickly, smiling at the exasperated looks Virgil realized the others were giving him. “Sorry, I just...gosh, Virgil can I kiss you?”

Virgil blinked, mind suddenly completely blank. “I...uh, sure?”

True to his word, Roman was suddenly cupping Virgil’s face in both his hands, gently pressing their lips together, and just like always Virgil melted against the touch, completely safe for just a single, blissful moment.

When Roman pulled back, he met Virgil’s gaze, brimming with nothing but adoration and love. “Virgil, darling, you really think I see something as trivial as sex romantic?”

“I mean...yeah?”

“Virgil, I love you. You, not...not what you have to offer. I love seeing you in the mornings, and holding you...I love hearing your voice. I want to cook you dinners and pick you flowers and sing for you. That’s romantic, Virge. Not...not something as small as sex. That’s not what’s important. Not to me.”

“I, for once, am in agreement with Roman,” Logan said. “Sexual intimacy has never been of importance to me. It certainly does not hold enough power to damage our relationship in any way if you do not desire it. And it certainly has no power over my feelings for you.”

Virgil was suddenly dangerously close to crying again. “I--”

“Besides, there is no logical reason for us to engage in sexual intercourse. We are not human, so the need to reproduce does not--”

Roman thankfully cut him off with a kiss, Logan making a noise somewhere between surprise and annoyance, but reciprocated without further complaint.

Patton was suddenly taking both of Virgil’s hands, their fingers laced together, and Virgil suddenly wasn't quite so scared to meet the moral side’s eyes.

“I don’t care about something silly like that,” Patton said. “I just care about you, honey. The four of us being safe and happy and together. If we all just cuddle and tell each other how much we love each other...nothing else could ever make me that happy. So don’t you worry about a thing, ok?”

Virgil wasn’t sure whether he laughed or sobbed, but he was smiling back at Patton, at the people who surrounded him with unconditional love, and he nodded.

“Ok,” he agreed, feeling lighter than he thought he ever had. “Thank you. All of you. I...I love you all. So much.”

Within moments they were all tangled up in each other, the television playing an old comfort movie, Virgil wrapped up in Logan’s arms with his head against Roman’s chest, Patton leaned against his legs.

It was still perfect, and Virgil had a funny feeling it always would be. He loved them, more than anything in the entire world, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind they felt the same way.

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aspecpplarebeautiful · 2 years

Note

tw // internalized acephobia: I’m having a really hard time shaking off allonormativity and accepting my own sex repulsion. I usually avoid sexual content in media and online and I’m much happier for it, but every once in a while I get this feeling like, what if I’m actually just repressed and need to power through and overcome it? so I’ll try to read smut or watch a sex scene with an open mind, feel squicked out during and awful after, and decide yeah, this is not for me, but a few months later the doubts come creeping back again. (I think part of it is that I do experience arousal when I do these things and I think bodies are beautiful in non-sexual situations so it’s not a 100% unpleasant experience, but the sexual situations themselves really make my stomach turn.) I don’t know when it’ll stick that my repulsion is legitimate and I don’t have to keep putting myself through this because I’m honestly just really frustrated and tired

Yeah, I definitely don't recommend powering through repulsion. That can have a really detrimental effect on your mental health if you do it too much.

One thing that may help you though is turning your focus more on ace things. So following ace people (both ace themed blogs and people who happen to be ace) on social media, joining or lurking on ace communities, like maybe on Discord. Or going through Carnival of Ace archives (monthly themed blogging event for aces). And sometimes even just seeing and being around other aces can really help you feel more like it's OK to be ace and it's normal to be ace.

Seeking out ace media can be really good too. And there's more all the time, especially podcasts and books. Some very popular like Elatsoe and the Magnus Archives. Personally if you're looking for recommendations, I really liked the Jughead 2015 run from Archie Comics, Todd in Bojack Horseman also has a really indepth figuring out he's ace arc that I really enjoyed (arc begins in season 3 and mostly explored in season 4). But there's some really good stuff out there and I definitely recommend looking around and seeing what's out there that interests you.

Watch your media consumption too, if you're watching anything that's really pushing sex as an essential, necessary to be healthy or life changing experience, maybe it's a good idea to drop that for the time being (you can go back to it later when this is less of an issue if you want). Or focus on media that's more built around found family or platonic and familial relationships. Same if you know someone who's really sexual and always going on about how great sex is, see if you can steer them to another topic you're both interested in.

But yeah as a general rule people tend to be emotionally influenced by what they're hearing and seeing around them. If you're constantly hearing sex is an essential part of life and you're missing out if you're not having it, then it's really easy to internalize it. But if you're seeing people regularly who are interesting, well-rounded people who are ace, or seeing ace characters who are interesting and you can connect to, that can help a lot in helping convince yourself on an emotional level that it's actually OK to be sex repulsed and not enjoy sex/sexual situations.

All the best, Anon! Good luck!

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amethystdarkwolf · 3 years

Text

Broken

AU: X Ship: Poly of Eijiro Kirishima, Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, and Hitoshi Shinso (This was easier than typing out all the pairings) Prompt: X Requested by: X Warnings: Internalized Acephobia, mentions of sex, non con like elements (Nothing happens though it is mentioned), insecurities and fears of breaking up. If I missed any please let me know! Summary: Eijiro loved his partners. He loved them more than life itself. They were more than accepting of any eccentricities of each other, which is to be expected from a poly of seven different personalities. But he didn’t know if they would accept him when they realized he was broken. F/A/H-C: Hurt/Comfort POV: 3rd, following Eijiro. Word Count: 3,735 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Side Note: Hi, I’m finally back to writing fics, even though it’s for a different fandom now, it’s still something lmao. I may come back to writing Sanders Sides eventually but we shall see. Let me know what you think of it! And I hope you enjoy!

They are all 3rd years and about to graduate UA! I wasn’t sure if that was considered an au or not but they are of legal age! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eijiro knew there was something about him that was different from his other classmates. Originally he had just blamed all the weirdly delayed interest in any girls, moreso any talk of ‘hooking up’, on him being gay once he finally figured that out.

But then the thoughts he thought he should have about guys, about doing things with guys never came either. He knew that he found guys attractive, obviously, he developed the biggest crush on two of the most powerful students in his class incredibly quickly after seeing both of their strengths, but whenever he thought about them, about being with them. Nothing sexual came from it. He’s a teenager he should be having these thoughts right?

He heard Denki talking about some of the guys in the class at one point, saying how hot a few of them were. And, well, Eijiro could agree, however when Denki started going into more detail about what he saw in the locker room, the redhead went silent. He couldn’t see anyone like that, not even two of his most prominent crushes. Was there something wrong?

He was not able to figure it out until their third year of high school. Now in a relationship that consisted of seven total. Polyamory was a thing introduced to him by Izuku once they had started dating and Eijiro realized he still had feelings for Katsuki after quite some time. He was overjoyed that Izuku had shown him that, moreso that he and Katsuki both agreed to it.

Not too long later, Izuku realized his feelings for Shoto, and Denki. Eijiro came to these realizations himself later. Denki then had feelings for both Hanta and Hitoshi. After quite a while of this, everyone in the poly was dating everyone. Which made things both a little less complicated and a little more complicated.

Eijiro loved his partners. He loved them more than life itself. They were more than accepting of any eccentricities of each other, which is to be expected from a poly of seven different personalities.

But he didn’t know if they would accept him when they realized he was broken.

He didn’t start off thinking like that. He just thought he was taking longer than everyone else to develop these kinds of feelings towards the others. Denki and Hanta using obviously suggestive flirting with one another while the group was together was to be expected. Then Hitoshi joined in, then Katsuki, Shoto, and eventually Izuku was making remarks that can and were meant to be taken in a not so innocent way.

Eijiro laughed along with these jokes, he understood them and was fine with them. So he thought there was nothing wrong with him. It wasn’t until the words turned into actions that he came to the realization about himself.

Katsuki and him were both incredibly physical with their fighting styles. So it’s only natural that every once in a while, their very playful spats would turn into wrestling matches in one of their rooms.

It was later into the night, a majority of the students were either asleep or down in the common area. Eijiro smirked as he managed to pin Katsuki down onto the floor, his hands grabbed his wrists keeping them pinned beside his head, using his quirk to ensure they stayed there. Both of the boys were a little out of breath panting in eachother's faces.

Eijiro wasn’t thinking about what position they were in. The fact that he was on top of Katsuki, kneeling on either side of the others lower body was lost on him. Until he realized Katsuki wasn’t continuing to struggle. As the pairs of red eyes met one another, Eijiro noticed the look in his partner’s. They were slightly darkened yet hazy. A look that he recognized instantly.

The same look he had given Denki before he had pinned him against the wall, marked up his neck so much that the bruises were left for at least two weeks. There was probably more to that story that he hadn’t quite heard, or had subconsciously tuned out due to the nature of it.

A sickening feeling of panic bubbled up in his stomach, along with a feeling of near disgust. The second he realized it, he jerked away, scrambling off of his boyfriend with a nervous laugh. “Ha! Gotcha, man!” He prayed Katsuki wouldn’t pick up on the tremble of his voice. Katsuki’s expression immediately changed from the look he had before, to one of confusion. He was silent as he seemed to examine the redhead.

Eijiro had gotten really good at reading Katsuki’s expressions, but there was one he was never able to quite pinpoint. Katsuki’s blank expression. None of his normal anger that seemed to constantly reside on his face, no annoyance, no smugness, absolutely nothing. That was the expression most of his partners tended to worry about when it showed up, just because it was so unreadable.

That was the expression Kirishima was met with after the confusion seemed to fade.

“Right.” Katsuki mumbled.

Eijiro glanced around the room quickly, looking for anything to change the topic or clear the awkward air around them. His eyes caught his bookbag and he grinned, “Oh hey, would you mind uh, helping me study again? I’m getting a little hung up on how some of the equations work.” Please work, please work, please work.

It did and it didn’t.

Katsuki hummed, the annoyance finally reading on his face once again. He knew something was up, but he knew that Eijiro was trying to hide it, he could tell. But despite that, he nodded, “Fine. What is it?”

There was going to be a talk later. It was going to be asked, Eijiro could tell. But now it wasn’t happening. He could only hope that he would have some explanation once the talk did happen.

----

He did come to an explanation. A much worse one than he hoped he would come to and in a much worse way.

He thought he had it figured out. That he was just awkward about it since he had never tried it, the position he had gotten Katsuki in was weird and that’s all it was. Maybe it would stop being like that once he was prepared to take that step with his partners. They had all waited for one another to be ready before trying anything at all so he figured it would be fine.

That’s all he thought it was.

Like Katsuki and Eijiro’s playful wrestling matches, Denki and him had something very similar. Only, they were often brought on by Kirishima winning in whatever game they were playing, and Denki tackling him, which led to more of a tickle fight than anything. Both laughing and giggling as they rolled around on the floor.

Golden eyes met red ones once they calmed down, the electric boy was now above him. Easily Eijiro could push him off, but he was still too giddy from the childlike roll around they had just had to even think about it. Denki leaned down once he caught his breath, placing a small chaste kiss onto Eijiro’s lips. Another small laugh leaving him before he repeated the process.

Eijiro was fine with this, this was sweet. He returned the kisses gladly, not at all complaining even when it progressed to a full makeout session. This didn’t make him feel uncomfortable. This didn’t make him have that feeling of panic and disgust. Maybe he was better now! Maybe he’s finally over whatever that was!

He should have known not to be so hopeful.

He leaned up on his elbows a little, feeling like he couldn’t get enough of his boyfriend’s kiss. He didn’t stop Denki when the other’s hands began to wander down his chest. This felt okay, this felt nice. This was just Denki being touchy. He was used to it.

Until it wasn’t just that.

Denki’s hand wandered down, down further past Eijiro’s stomach, as it made its way closer and closer, that feeling came back. Bubbling up much worse than last time, the thought came too quickly, the thought of any of his partners touching him like that, made him immediately tense up. Finally he was getting those thoughts he thought he should have been getting, but now instead of getting aroused by them, all he felt was that gross, uncomfortable and panicky feeling.

He finally snapped out of his own thoughts when he felt a small shock course through him. He blinked a couple times, feeling hot tears falling down his face. His body was shaking, and in front of him, he saw those golden eyes again. Looking at him with so much worry.

Eijiro drew his hand away from Denki’s wrist quickly. When had he grabbed him? “Eijiro!” He managed to register that his boyfriend was talking to him. It took him a moment longer to gather his voice enough to respond, “w-wh… what happened?”

Denki looked even more confused, “You tell me! I-dude I would’ve stopped! You were just suddenly shaking and crying and you jerked my arm away from you! Are you okay?”

Eijiro nodded after a moment, “Yeah, Yeah sorry, I just kinda freaked out I guess?” That was the only way he could explain it, though it was obvious enough that Denki knew that much. Denki’s expressions were much easier to read than Katsuki. Which only made it that much easier to see the confusion and worry now be joined by hurt.

“Did… Did you not think I’d stop?” He sounded just as petrified as Eijiro felt currently. Eijiro shook his head immediately, “No! No! I mean-Yes! I knew you would have stopped! I trust you! I just wasn't thinking, I guess…? I don’t really know.”

Denki nodded, seemingly content with that answer. “Okay, dude. Uh, do you wanna keep playing?” Gesturing over to the forgotten Switch. Eijiro smiled a little and nodded, “Yeah! Can’t wait to kick your ass again!” He said hitting his fists together.

The blonde grinned, immediately returning back to his normal happy self. “Oh whatever! That last round was a total flub! Doesn’t count!”

That night, Eijiro rested his head against his pillow, his mind racing through the events of the day. Something that hadn’t quite clicked in his head finally did. “I trust you” was what he had said in reassuring Denki. Which was true, he trusted all of his partners, he couldn’t have a relationship if he didn’t.

But, if he couldn’t even bear the thought of the people he trusted with his life, he loved with all of his heart, to touch him like that… Then that wasn’t the problem. Being awkward and nervous wasn’t the explanation. Not being ready wasn’t the explanation.

Finally he accepted it as tears came to his eyes. “I’m never going to be ready for it…” he murmured to himself. “I’m never going to want that.”

It made sense, he had never liked the idea before, never thought about it before, and now that it was almost thrown in his face (On accident, Denki of course didn’t know he felt like this and Eijiro couldn’t blame him). He panicked. He wasn’t afraid of it. It didn’t make him nervous. It made him uncomfortable.

He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, as a sob left his mouth. He wasn’t like any of his partners, he wasn’t like anyone in the class, hell he didn’t even know if there was a possibility of anyone like him being at the school. He’s Broken.

Quickly remembering that Katsuki was right next door, he grabbed a pillow, biting it in order to muffle himself.

He was broken, he didn’t feel the things he was supposed to. He didn’t want the things his partners wanted. What most people consider a crucial part of a relationship he couldn’t even think about without feeling sick.

It hurt, it hurt and ached every part of his being. His partners were all accepting, but they’ll want that. He’d be a horrible partner to deny them something that they’d consider important in the relationship. Why would they bother sticking with him if he wasn’t enough? If he couldn’t make them fully happy what was the point?

How vividly he could imagine their faces made it so much worse. Izuku would smile softly, try to let Eijiro down slowly, probably even apologizing. Katsuki would be annoyed, thinking he wasn’t tough enough to handle it. Denki would think it was funny and ridiculous. Hanta would be confused, who wouldn’t want to have sex with their partners? Shoto wouldn’t really have any glaring expression, just a simple sigh of dissatisfaction, and Hitoshi would just roll his eyes, like Eijiro had been a waste of time.

He was pretty sure he had torn open his pillow at this point, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He never wanted to see them like that. He never wanted to lose them just because he was broken. He was supposed to be unbreakable after all! He needed to fix it. There had to be some way to keep that from happening.

A terrifying thought crossed his mind.

‘If I just force myself through it once, with one of them, and then it’ll be fine after that.’

It made him feel sick again, thinking about it. He wouldn’t want it, and he knew his partners would stop and question if they noticed how uncomfortable he was. He sniffled as he continued to debate on it, it would make him feel disgusting, gross and uncomfortable, but it would only be for a little while, and then after that, he could keep his partners, and make sure they’re happy.

That’s what was most important.

---

He made out a little plan, to try to get himself to go through with this. In his mind it was like training. Trying to think of what he thought of that day with Denki without tensing up. Or at least learning how to hide it. Trying to convince himself that ‘it’ll feel good. It’ll feel good.’ The shaking he wasn’t able to get under control, he could blame that on nervousness though, right?

He knew which partner he was going to try to initiate this with. The one he had been with the longest. Izuku. He was so sweet, gentle and kind, but was incredibly strong and determined. It would feel safe, comfortable, right? It had to, it was Izuku.

If Izuku said no, he would go to Katsuki, who he knew would have no problems taking the lead if he teased a little, he would be a lot more to deal with than Izuku though, but if it’ll work then he had to do it. If that didn’t work he would go to Denki, then Hanta, then Shoto and then Hitoshi. Hopefully, Izuku would say yes. He loved and trusted all of his partners, but it would be easiest to handle with Izuku.

-----

It started off a lot like the other two mishaps. Just some playful roughhousing ending with Eijiro pinning Izuku. Eijiro tried desperately to hide any hint of feeling off, looking up to Izuku’s eyes quickly before kissing him.

Izuku returned the kiss, and he was both a little surprised and not surprised at all that Izuku was the one to push it to a makeout session. He was hesitating a little and Izuku seemed to be enjoying this. Good. Good. He was doing good.

He remembered what Denki did with his hands, how he touched him and tried to mimic that on Izuku as best as he could. The memory however, caused that feeling to bubble up again. As he began tracing Izuku’s thighs through the shorts he was wearing, an arm on his own stopped him. He swallowed and looked up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.

“Ei…?” His voice was so soft and gentle.

Eijiro pulled his hands away immediately, “S-sorry, was I-do you not want-I didn’t mean to-” Everything was crumbling. He could feel the barriers he put up beginning to crack and break. The feeling was only getting worse. He’d have to go to Katsuki.

Izuku shook his head, “No! I-I do, want that! Just… you’re shaking…?”

Eijiro gave a little fake laugh, “Ah! I’m just, kinda nervous, don’t wanna mess this up.” He lied through his teeth. Izuku smiled so gently again, “Don’t worry too much, it’s okay, I’m here.” he murmured comfortingly, the hand that had grabbed Eijiro’s forearm moved down to hold his hand.

The redhead let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you.” The sickening feeling only bubbled up once more once he continued. Now placing kisses down Izuku’s neck, while his hand went back to tracing up and down his boyfriend’s body.

He could feel the trembling get worse. He tried to swallow down the panic that was trying to force itself through him as he scraped his teeth against Izuku’s neck. He reached a spot right where his neck and shoulder meet that made Izuku breathe heavier, and whine, right next to Eijiro’s ear. He had no chance.

Hearing the sound was so different than just the touch. With the touch he could try to think of something else to keep from breaking, but with that noise it shot him right back. Making him realize exactly what he was doing. Exactly what he was about to force himself to do. It was too much. It was all too much.

The barrier broke.

The tears and sick feeling he had been trying to hold back now came in full force. He withdrew his hands from Izuku but kept his face in his neck for a moment as he let the tears fall. Izuku tensed under him. Strong arms immediately came to wrap around him. “Ei?” he asked again. His voice sounded so much more panicked than before.

Sounded like Denki did, concern, worry and panic.

Eijiro shook his head, “I-I’m… I’m so sorry, Izuku. I tried, I really did. But I can’t.” the words managed to get choked out between sobs. “I can’t do it, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m broken.”

He couldn’t see Izuku’s face, but with the silence he could only imagine what he had thought of when he first came up with this plan. The soft smile, ready to let him down slow. To end things with him. He deserved it anyways, for not being enough. He shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to see it when he felt Izuku start to pull away.

Suddenly he was being picked up, and placed on the bed. “Ei… Look at me, please.” Izuku’s voice was shaking, that he wouldn’t pick up until later. But he didn’t need to. Once he finally managed to open his eyes and look at Izuku’s face. The thought of Izuku letting him down slow with that smile vanished instantly.

Izuku had tears in his eyes too. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to hold him more at that moment. “Please, just breathe, okay? Then we can talk, I’m just confused.” He was more than confused. Eijiro could see it. But he accepted that for now. And slowly worked through calming himself down from the panic attack.

He looked back at Izuku and nodded, “‘m okay to talk now…”

Izuku smiled at him, genuinely luckily, and nodded back. “Okay, please tell me what you meant by that…?”

Eijiro looked off to the side, not wanting to meet those sad green eyes again as he gathered his thoughts to explain.

“I never, ever really, felt anything like that towards anyone. Whenever I’d get a crush, I couldn’t even imagine anything like that with them… This is just how I’ve been. And I just thought that eventually, I’d get those feelings. They didn’t come. And when I fell for all of you, I thought, okay maybe once I’m comfortable with them, maybe it’s just because I’m nervous at the thought of it that it was like that… But I am comfortable with all of you, I trust all of you.”

He sniffled, rubbing at his eye as he could feel more tears threatening to spill.

“I realized that I probably won’t ever want to do anything like that. Or be comfortable with it. Even when it came to you guys, any thought of that I felt… Gross and uncomfortable and panicky. But, I know a lot of people, most people say that that is an important part in a relationship. And-And I didn’t… Didn’t want to be a bad boyfriend. I want you guys to be happy and satisfied and content and… all of that… and if you all wanted that to be happy, then… you wouldn’t want me…”

“Eijiro…” Izuku’s voice was barely above a whisper, in more shock than actually wanting to get his attention or stop his talking.

“So I thought, maybe. Maybe if I can just bare it once. Then I’d stop feeling that way. But, I-I couldn’t… so…” He finally let the tears fall as he shrugged. That was the end, he was expecting Izuku to agree with him. But when he looked up at Izuku’s face.

There were tears falling at a rapid pace down his pretty freckled cheeks, his mouth was slightly open in shock. “Eijiro… Can-Can I hug you?” Eijiro barely let him finish his sentence before he practically lept at Izuku. Holding him tightly, Izuku held him just as tight.

“You don’t have to do anything that makes you feel like that, it doesn’t matter. None of us will think any less of you for that. We love you. It isn’t about sex or anything! We love you. Please, please don’t force yourself, if one day you do feel okay to try then that’s okay! If not? Then that’s also okay. You aren’t broken, Eijiro. You’re perfect.”

Eijiro sobbed as Izuku spoke, murmuring ‘Thank you’s and ‘I love you’s between breaths and sobs. They stayed like that until both of them fell into a comfortable silence. Cuddling and holding one another, perfectly content.

That night Izuku introduced him to a new term. One that meant exactly what Eijiro had thought was him being ‘broken’. The term was ‘Asexual’. He wasn’t broken, he wasn’t wrong, he’s Asexual.

Now, many years later, as a pro-hero that is married to his partners, Eijiro wears that label with pride.

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obeyme-kaidii-writes · 3 years

Text

Love

ace!Leviathan x ace gn!MC

Words - 2503

Content warnings - asexual characters, some internalized acephobia, lots of love and comfort

Prompt/inspiration - a gift for a reader on AO3 ☺️

Summary - You head to Levi’s room to check on him after not hearing from him all day, only to find him crying alone. After talking with him, you both learn something special about one another.

AO3

You were standing outside of Levi’s door debating whether or not to knock. Usually he was the one calling and texting you, inviting you to join him to play games, or watch anime, or just to hang out together in his room. But today, he had been quiet. Something that hadn’t happened since your early days in the Devildom.

To make matters worse, he was leaving all your messages on read, so you weren’t sure if he was mad at you or just too busy to respond. And you couldn’t think of anything that he had been looking forward to recently that would leave him so occupied. While you were contemplating your options, you pressed your ear to his door to see if you could hear any sounds from inside that might give you a clue as to what he was doing. That’s when you heard the unmistakable sounds of your favorite otaku sniffling and choking back sobs.

“Levi?”, you called out to him, opening his door without waiting for a response.

“Hmm?! Yeah?!” Levi startled, roughly scrubbing at his face to rid himself of his tears and trying to make himself look at least a bit like he hadn’t spent the better part of the day sitting in his room feeling sorry for himself.

“Hey, Levi, what’s wrong?” you asked him gently, as you sat down next to him by his aquarium, facing the opposite direction so you could see him better. He had his knees drawn up to his chest, and by now had given up trying to dry his tears and instead just hid his face in his arms.

When Levi didn’t respond, you simply wrapped your arms around his head and shoulders and held him, running your fingers through his hair. He stiffened for a moment, unsure if he really wanted you so close right now, but soon he had released his hold on his own legs, opting instead to wrap his arms around your middle, practically pulling himself into your lap in the process. And as soon as his face was hidden in the fabric of your shirt, he started crying once more.

All you could do for Levi was hold him, gently rubbing his back and combing his hair with your other hand. You had never seen him so upset before. Is this why he was hiding in his room all day?

“It’s ok Levi, it’s ok.”

But it was definitely not ok. At least not from Levi’s perspective. This had officially been the worst day ever, and there was exactly zero possibility of it getting better. He had stayed up late the night before, crafting the most eloquent love letter he had ever written (well, the only love letter he had ever written), determined to give it to you today to tell you how he felt. And just as he was about to slip it under your door, he stopped dead in his tracks, watching as you smiled and laughed with his brothers on your way to breakfast.

Oh. That’s right. How had he forgotten?

Levi wasn’t stupid, he could tell how smitten his brothers were with you. It was obvious to anyone with eyes, and especially obvious to him who had known them for so long. They had all changed in subtle ways, becoming kinder, softer, more loving, since you had come along. And he had changed too. He knew that. He wrote a love letter for goodness sake. He never would have imagined he would be doing that for anyone that wasn’t 2D.

Still, there was one striking difference between himself and his brothers that he knew from all his anime and manga and dating sims was an essential part of any healthy relationship, and it wasn’t something he could give you. At least, not how he knew it was supposed to be. He loved you more than anything, he had no doubt in his mind about that. He even thought sometimes that you loved him too, with the way you would smile at him or gently hold his hand when he got anxious. But that didn’t make any difference did it? Love alone wouldn’t change things.

That didn’t stop him from clinging to you though, sobbing into your shirt and wishing you could just know how he felt and that he didn’t have to put it into words or explain. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same, even though he knew that was impossible. But he could still dream couldn’t he? Dreams were all he had left now.

After a while, Levi’s breathing started to calm and he was able to focus on the sound of your heartbeat. He loved that sound. More times than he’d care to admit, he had gotten distracted just listening to it while you cuddled with him and watched a show together. Sometimes even falling asleep. You had never said anything to him about it before, but the way you held him to you now made him think that perhaps you knew and wanted to make sure he could hear it.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, trying to sit up, but you didn’t let him go and he didn’t fight you. He only snuggled closer to you, which made you smile as you hugged him tight.

“It’s ok, Levi. You don’t need to apologize,” you felt him nod against your chest, and you pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“I was worried about you today. I tried calling you and texting you all day at RAD,” you paused before continuing, “Can you tell me what happened?”

He didn’t answer right away, and you felt his arms tighten around you.

“It’s ok, take your time. I just want to help,” you soothed, continuing to rub his back as you held him, patiently waiting for him to open up.

“...do you like any of my brothers?”

“Uh, huh? I mean, they're all important to me, if that’s what you’re asking. But where’s this coming from?”

“No, I mean like like them. You know,” he mumbled into your chest.

“Like do I have a crush on them?”

“...yeah,” he replied, meekly.

“Well, no, I can’t say I do. But seriously, where is this coming from?”

Levi didn’t want to answer. He was bad at this stuff. It’s why he wrote the letter in the first place. His thoughts and feelings would just get so jumbled up whenever he tried to talk about these things out loud. He tightened his fist around the letter that he was still holding, crumpled up in his hand. Maybe if he could just give it to you, you would understand?

This time when he tried to sit up and pull away from you, you let him, studying his face closely as he did his best to hide behind his bangs. When you noticed the wad of paper he was holding out to you, you took it from him and carefully unfolded it.

“What’s this?” you asked, and when he still didn’t answer, you started to read.

Dear Henry,

I bet this is weird, getting a letter from me right? I hope you don’t mind. I thought about talking to you, but every time I tried I forgot what to say so I thought writing would be easier.

I’m really glad that you were chosen for the exchange program, and that I got to know you. I’ve never had a best friend before. And you’re the best friend I could ever imagine. I know I’m just...well, me...but I hope I’m able to be at least half as good of a friend to you.

I love you.

xoxo,

Lord of Shadow

aka

Leviathan

You had to read over the letter a couple times just to make sure it was real and you weren’t imagining the whole thing. Levi loved you? But why was he so upset? And what was with all the weird questions about his brothers? As much as you wanted to leap for joy after finally receiving his confession, you were also deeply confused.

“Levi, I’m not sure I understand,” you asked, raising your head to look at him again. Levi was curled up on himself once more, hugging his knees tightly to his chest and keeping his face from view.

“What is there to understand? It’s exactly what it looks like.”

“Then why are you so sad?” you scooted closer to him so that your legs were touching again, and tenderly stroked his head, “Did you think I’d reject you?”

“That’s what you’re going to do isn’t it?” he said, sniffling and pulling his legs even closer.

“No, Levi. Of course not. I love you too.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Why would you think that?” your arms were now wrapped around his shoulders again, your cheek resting on top of his head. You had to admit that it stung hearing him reject your own confession, but it only strengthened your resolve to get answers.

“I’m not like my brothers.”

“I know, that’s why I’m here with you and not them.”

“I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend.”

“I’d like to be the judge of that.”

“But it’s true. I can’t...you know...do the thing.”

“The thing?”

“Yeah the thing.”

“I don’t know what that is, Levi.”

“THE thing. The thing only couples do,” he was getting a bit frustrated now. Were you really going to make him say it?

“Levi...do you mean sex?” you raised your head to try to catch a glimpse of Levi’s face, but all you could see were the tips of his (very red) ears as he turned his head more to the side and buried it further in his arms.

“...yeah.”

“Hey, that’s ok. You don’t need to,” you said, wrapping your arms back around him, hugging him tightly.

“Of course you need to. That’s what couples do,” Levi couldn’t conceal the waiver in his voice as his eyes started to well with tears once again.

“And where did you hear that?”

“I dunno. Everywhere. It’s how it is, isn’t it? You fall in love, you kiss, you...you know...and that’s how you know you’re a couple.”

“Levi,” you chuckled softly, “this isn’t a shojo manga or a dating sim. There are plenty of people in relationships that don’t have sex.” You pressed another kiss to the top of his head as you started to run your fingers through his hair like you had been earlier.

The truth was, this was the exact conversation you had been fearing and why you had avoided admitting to your own feelings for so long. You had been in relationships before, and some of them ended quite badly after you had explained your sexual preferences, or lack thereof you could say. The last thing you wanted was to have Levi reject you, but even more than that, you didn’t want him to think that there was something wrong with him that made you not want to have that sort of a relationship.

Learning that he felt the same way, and struggled with the same fears, was a huge relief to you, lifting a weight you hadn’t even been aware you had been carrying from your shoulders.

“There are plenty of ways to be intimate, to feel connected, that don’t involve sex. And I think we have a pretty good connection already, don’t you?”

You heard Levi sniffle, before he cautiously raised his head to look at you. He was surprised to see the understanding in your eyes, as well as the soft smile that spread across your lips. He hadn’t thought it possible to love you anymore than he already did, but here he was, heart threatening to beat out of his chest, while you looked at him like he was the most precious person in the entire world. When his tears started to fall again, you were quick to pull him back into a hug, and this time he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“I love you, Levi. So much. So so so much,” you whispered to him, “Do you want to know a secret?”

Levi nodded against your neck, still too emotional to verbally respond.

“I feel the same way as you. I don’t want that sort of relationship either.”

He tightened his grip around you, soaking up all your words and reassurances. Did you really feel the same way as him? Is that why you understood him so well? Because you wanted the same things? Is that why he always felt so at ease around you? Because you never asked of him more than he was able to give?

“We can do things our own way, you know? That’s for us to decide. Doesn’t matter what anyone else does.”

“Really? I can just hug you and watch anime with you and stuff and you’ll be happy?”

“Yeah. I’ll be happy. I am happy. You’re my best friend, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then that’s all I need. My best friend.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, hugging and cuddling one another, the occasional giggle being exchanged as the smile started to return to Levi’s face.

“Hey, you think we could go cuddle in the bean bag? We could put on an anime or something if you want. My back is just getting kinda sore sitting on the floor like this,” you asked, straightening up and stretching out your neck. Levi was quick to agree and help you up off the floor, leading you by the hand to his oversized bean bag chair.

“Umm...do you think we could...just cuddle?” he gave your hand a small squeeze, blushing at having asked such a direct question.

“Yeah, we can do that,” you replied, taking a seat and tugging Levi down to join you, causing him to tumble into your lap.

“Ah! S-sorry…!” he scrambled to get off of you, but you only laughed and adjusted your legs so that he was seated between them, perpendicular to you.

“It’s ok, you can stay,” you said with a smile, gently holding him in place with your hand on his hip. Levi’s blush deepened, but he nodded in agreement, quickly wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his head on your shoulder, with his forehead pressed against your neck.

As you began to scratch his back, he relaxed more fully against you, enjoying your warmth and the tenderness of your touch. He could feel his worries melting away. He felt so safe with you. So understood. Accepted. It didn’t matter what weird quirk he revealed to you, intentionally or otherwise, you always embraced it, often revealing one of your own to help put him at ease. It was like the two of you were made for each other. Soulmates, if such a thing existed. And his heart had never before felt so full.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Levi,” you replied.

#gn!mc #ace!mc #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me levi #levi x mc #obey me fanfic #obey me angst #obey me comfort #levi fanfic #levi angst #levi comfort

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rosesisupposes · 3 years

Text

Objections, Your Honor

Two lawyers are across the aisle in open court once more. But today something is off, and no one is happy with the result.

read on ao3

characters: mainly Logan & Janus; background Virgil, Patton, Roman, Remus, Remy, and Emile

pairings: soulmate Loceit; QPP Analogical; QPP Moceit; romantic soulmate Royality; romantic soulmate Dukexiety; romantic soulmate Remile

content tags: non-traditional soulmate AU; courtroom drama; arophobia and acephobia; shameless self-pandering with legal arguments about the MCU; gushing about QPPs; couples therapy

reader tags: @royally-anxious @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty @max-is-tired @almostoveranalyzed @potestessemagishomosexualitatis @mariniacipher @vintage-squid

word count: 10,386

⁂

The day it happened was no normal day for Logan. But not, of course, because of that.

He cared because it was a trial day. Months of motions back and forth, weeks and weeks of preparation, and today was oral arguments. He normally avoided open court, particularly against such an opponent, but nothing could be done.

His case files were impeccably arranged in his padfolio, his grocery list of arguments annotated in precise writing, blue ink dotting the page with emphases and connections, his notepad prepared at his left.

He glanced to his right out of the corner of his eye at his opposing counsel. He didn't want them to see him looking. But he sneered internally at the haphazard stacks of papers spreading across the table and the garish gold ink that looped and curved across sticky notes.

The judge finally came out, and Logan stood, crisply buttoning his tailored jacket as he did so. At the signal, he identified himself clearly. "Logan Finch for the appellant, Your Honor."

And then, from his right: "Janus Alighieri for the appellee, Your Honor."

Logan rolled his eyes internally. Janus was, unfortunately, a very familiar foe at this point. But then, they were two of the most respected lawyers in their state, with opposing specialties and reputations for innovative tactics.

Logan was self-aware. He had another reputation, too: as a black-and-white thinker, unshakable, unalterable. He preferred to think of it as a particularly strong conviction. Versus "The Snake" against him, who coiled and twisted the facts of his cases to benefit his clients.

And of course, that was the issue today - Logan strove to show that his client had a straightforward, airtight argument that should clearly prevail, while Janus found miniscule details that he said should be enough to distinguish the case at hand and make it different from previous decisions, enough so to allow the case to be decided in his favor. He'd charmed the jury at trial, and now argued against Logan's appeal.

Logan prided himself on keeping a cool head, but listening to Janus' speech just got under his skin. His neat handwriting started to get messier and messier as he furiously scribbled notes of counterarguments and responses to his opponent's points. Then Janus turned slightly, just enough to see frustration's color burn in Logan's cheek, and he smirked.

Logan barely heard the gasp from the observers behind the bar, because he'd just snapped his pen in his grip.

He looked straight ahead, somewhere slightly to the left of the judge's head, but he saw very little, his furious thoughts too loud to allow any else to be processed. But the audience was murmuring and talking, far louder than any judge usually allowed - what was going on?

A clerk from behind him hurried up to the judge's dais and whispered urgently in her ear. Logan had yet to look around, but he was slowly coming back to himself, enough to be confused at this disruption in normal procedure. He refused to look over at Janus' probably-still-smirking face.

The judge cleared her throat. "Counselors, we will recess for the day. Please join me in my chambers now."

Logan frowned, but cleaned up the broken pen and gathered his file neatly back into his leather briefcase. He didn't look over, but he heard the flurry and crinkling of papers as Janus threw his notes into his own bag. Without glancing over, Logan followed the judge to the small office at the back of the courtroom.

"Mr. Finch, Mr. Alighieri. I do hope there's a good explanation for this breach in propriety, not to mention the code of conduct," she said sternly as they both stood before her heavy desk.

"Breach, Your Honor?" Janus asked. He sounded just as confused as Logan felt.

"As barred attorneys, you are expected to know the code as well as I," Judge Kasel said severely. "No soulmates may be involved in a trial together, except as co-counsel."

Logan's ears roared. "Your Honor, I apologize, I must have misheard. Soulmates? How is that relevant-"

"Mr. Finch, don't play dumb with me - the entire courtroom saw!"

"Saw what?" Janus asked. His voice was oddly distant and strained from its normal silky tones.

Judge Kasel stared at them in disbelief. "You mean to tell me you both managed to not see that? I'm quite certain the entire county saw the glow just now, through even the back of your suits!"

"Glow?" Logan asked. His chest was suddenly very, very empty, a vacuum of air or substance, and had he not been sitting he was sure he would have fainted.

"Yes, glow, both your marks on your shoulders. Given your mutual surprise, I will assume that this was indeed unknown, and will not declare this case a retroactive mistrial. But you will both need to send in replacements from your firms."

Janus spoke up, his voice tinny. "Replacements, Your Honor? I should think even in light of this- development, only one of us would need to withdraw-"

"Mr. Alighieri, while I appreciate your dedication, I will not delay this trial for the entirety of your bonding. I will give you both 3 days to propose counsel to take over, and scheduling will proceed with them."

Oh fuck. Bonding, Logan thought, unable to speak. That absolutely ridiculous expectation.

The clerk poked her head in. "If they need to speak privately, this side office is empty."

"Yes," Logan responded robotically. "Yes, I believe we need to speak."

They filed into the small room. The clerk closed the door behind her, whispering "Congratulations!" as she disappeared.

Janus sat in one of the chairs heavily. Logan remained standing, staring blankly at the bookshelves built into the wall.

"I can't believe this," Janus said finally. "We've known each other for years, how could we possibly be...?"

"Soulmarks frequently emit a barely visible glow from proximity alone, particularly when located on skin that is generally covered. Heightened emotion or situations with high levels of stress lead to brighter glows that were invisible or unnoticed previously," Logan recited dully.

"Oh yes, how could I forget, I'm talking to Encyclopedia Brown," Janus said, rolling his eyes. "Of course you've memorized that too." He unbuttoned his suit vest dexterously despite his trademark yellow gloves, slumping forward in his chair as he threw his vest over the arm carelessly.

"At least one of us actually has a factual basis for this event, rather than us both being in the dark," Logan snapped back.

"Yeah, your vast knowledge of facts really helped! Did your misguided quest to know everything somehow miss the detail of who's your fucking soulmate?" Janus said, nearly whisper-screaming.

Logan whirled to face him, a fiery reply already on his lips, when he suddenly saw a blue light showing through Janus' white shirt, bright enough to glint off the polished chair back and off the glass of the picture frames on the wall.

He closed his eyes, breathing out slowly. "Yes. That was a detail I had not learned. It felt trivial, unable to affect my work. But now that it has, we're better off resolving this."

Janus deflated too. "Yeah. We should. If we can just get through this part, at least we'll stop glowing like horny teenagers."

Logan focused on a tiny flag displayed on the desk as he spoke, not looking over. "I know of a very respectable landlord who rents bonding apartments in the city. Nothing overdone or kitschy, no 'honeymoon' suites, just furnished apartments for indefinite stays."

"Fine. Not like we can't afford it, whatever the price."

"I have some arrangements to make at home-" Logan began

"As do I, unless-"

"Unless what?"

Janus took a breath. "How would you feel about living with a snake?"

"I rather thought that was the entire idea," Logan replied coolly.

Janus shot him a withering glare. "I mean a python, you absolute cotton-headed ninnymuggin."

"Ah, my mistake," Logan said calmly. "That should be fine. A pet, I assume? Or your chosen co-counsel?"

"Let's get one thing straight, Finch," Janus said, rising to his full height, looking down at his infuriating opponent. "I don't like you. I don't expect or particularly want you to like me. We are going to be residing together up until, and only until, our illogical marks have decided in their weird cosmic energy to stop lighting up like neon signs whenever we experience strong emotion in each other's company. I fully expect to be pissed off the entire time, which will make figuring that out easier. But you do not get to speak to me that way, or I'll-"

Logan looked up to meet Janus' eyes. "Or you'll what, Alighieri?"

"I'll report you to the bar for breaking the code, and convince them you already knew," Janus replied smoothly. "And you of all people should know- I am very persuasive."

Logan's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "Fine. And yes, you may bring your python. I'll be leaving my cat at home, however."

"Fine with me," Janus said curtly, deflating back into his normal slouch.

"I will send you the details of the landlord I mentioned. I can make the arrangements within the hour."

"Sure. Wait-"

"What?"

"How are you going to send me the details?"

Logan paused. Their only real contact over the years had been in person or by professional communications. He could hardly use a process server or subpoena to give Janus his key. "Ah. Right. Your contact information, then?" He pulled out his notepad.

Janus pulled out his gold pen and scribbled his phone number at an angle, entirely crossing the college-ruled lines. Logan cringed but took it.

"I will contact you shortly, then. And I will may sure to look for pet-friendly apartments."

Janus nodded. "Right."

"Right."

They both paused.

"Uh. See you soon, then," Janus said, and left the room abruptly.

⁂

Janus had to hand it to him - the apartment was all Logan had promised. Clean, sleek, and spacious. The landlord had even left a spare heat lamp, so Janus' sweet Monty would be comfortable.

Best of all, there were several separate rooms in the suite - two bed, two bath, and two offices.

The kitchen was also well-furnished, and came stocked with staple foods. Logan had arrived, however, with extra bags of groceries.

"I brought my own additions," he said. "The landlord is a friend, but he doesn't buy from the shops I prefer."

He proceeded to pull out several large jars of kimchi, what looked like at least a gallon of soy sauce, and various bright packages that Janus couldn't read.

Janus resolved to take pictures and look up what these things were later. Not while Logan was standing here, glaring up and over as if daring him to comment.

"I've picked the smaller bedroom," Janus informed the shorter man calmly. "Monty is set up in there, so if you're weird about snakes, just avoid it. Actually, feel free to avoid it anyway. I've got a brief to write."

Logan made a noncommittal sound in response.

Hours later, Janus emerged from his office to eat something. His brief was finished, sent off to his senior partner. He hadn’t yet told the firm about the day’s events- only that the appeal would need to be handled by another partner with his associates’ help, he needed to take emergency leave, and he would let them know soon how long he expected to be unavailable. H

e found evidence in the kitchen that Logan had prepared, eaten, and cleaned up dinner for himself. That was fine by him. He made his own food, grabbed a bag of candy, and retreated back to his room.

The next morning, he woke up at his normal late time, stretching in the sun. The kitchen once again showed evidence of Logan's presence- particularly the currently-soaking coffee pot.

When the sun started to descend once more and Janus had yet to see his new roommate, he grumbled. Guess he'd have to be the fucking practical one.

He blew Monty a kiss for good luck and stumped down to the rooms Logan had claimed. He rapped on the door. "Finch. We need to talk."

He waited. There was silence, then a slow drag of a chair. The doors cracked open.

"Yes? What about?"

"No. We need to talk. Or, fuck, I don't know. Be in the same room occasionally."

Logan sighed deeply, and opened the door more. "Fine."

Janus went to the living room and sat on one side of the couch. Logan followed him and settled on the chair facing him.

"So." Janus began.

"So what," Logan replied flatly.

"Sew buttons," Janus replied automatically.

"What?"

"Just something one of my friends says," Janus muttered.

"Ah. So what was it you want to discuss?"

"I don't know!" Janus snapped. "But I'd really like to get back to my life, eventually, and that can only happen if we bond." His lip curled.

Logan sighed heavily. "And how, exactly, do you propose we do that?”

Janus fell silent. He had very few ideas. Pop culture made it very clear that bonding was an extremely romantic event. First kisses. Proposals. Or, in the less sappy movies, it seemed to consist purely of falling into bed together. None of which appealed in the least, particularly not with Logan.

Logan stared expectantly. "Nothing? You just pulled me out with no ideas?"

"If you're the fucking brilliant one, you come up with one then!" Janus spat out the suggestion with a glare, but then he saw it - a soft gold glow shining through Logan's tee, reflected in the tasteful mirror behind him.

They both deflated again, glows reducing down to hidden beneath their clothes.

Logan adjusted his glasses. "I. Ah. Apologize. I realize you are attempting to resolve this issue."

"But you're right. I have no idea how to," Janus admitted.

Logan took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "Unfortunately, neither do I. Perhaps just coexisting will be enough."

"How long will that take, though?"

"I haven't the foggiest."

They lapsed into silence.

Finally, Janus suggested, "Maybe we can do our work in the same room. Set up in the dining room with all our stuff. Coexist but in proximity."

Logan glanced over. "That seems relatively painless. Let us make an attempt, then."

⁂

Logan had not had any particular expectations for how well they could share a work space.

And yet, it was still far worse than he'd expected.

Janus talked to himself. As he read, as he wrote, as he researched. Not loud, but a constant stream of soft muttering, disjointed words and full sentences.

It was the most distracting thing Logan had ever been suffered to experience.

"Will you please be quiet," he said tightly, after an hour passed with no signs of letup.

"What do you mean?" Janus asked.

"That infernal whispering, please, could you stop?"

Janus looked at him quizzically.

"You're talking under your breath," Logan said. He felt a headache coming on.

"Oh, am I?" Janus asked. "Sorry. I'll be quiet."

It lasted all of half an hour, and then the muttering started again. "SCOTUS said yes but that was a city sidewalk, 2nd says no but that was Lincoln Center, hm, decoration, use, separation, intent?"

"You're doing it again!"

Janus looked slightly guilty. "It's barely conscious, it's how I process things. Could you just wear headphones?"

"I need silence."

"Noise-canceling, then?"

"Fine. Do you own a pair?"

But the headphones didn't help. The sensation was too odd, of being closed-in, and he kept bumping then as he went to lean against his hand. Finally, Logan stood. "I'm going back to my office. This experiment has failed."

Janus' eyes narrowed. "Well, thanks for deigning to sit in my presence for a full three hours before giving up."

"I'm not giving up, this is just not tenable!" Logan insisted.

"Well, you asked for ideas, and I came up with one. If it's not working for you, you come up with a better one. Come find me when you're done thinking, I know it could take you a while."

He stood and grabbed an apartment key, and stalked out to walk off his frustration.

As he walked, he called his best friend.

"Hey Pat, it's me."

"Jan! Hi buddy, how are you?!"

He sighed heavily. "I want to go home."

"But you only just got there?"

"Yeah, and it's going shi- I mean, badly. Really badly."

"I'm sure you'll work it out," Patton said confidently. "You're a brilliant and wonderful human, and anyone smart enough to argue against you will be able to see that!"

"Thanks, hun," Janus said. "The fact remains that I also don't like him."

Patton hummed tunelessly. "It doesn't have to be instant, Jan. These things usually take time."

"Unlike you and Ro."

"Well, yes, but that's because we were meant to be!" Patton soft, his voice taking on that soft, besotted tone it always did when he talked about his soulmate.

"Isn't the whole point that all soulmates are meant to be?"

"Well, yes..." Patton faltered. "But it doesn't have to look like us, we're just hopeless romantics!"

"I know. How's wedding planning going?"

"We started watching movies for inspiration and got distracted with a Disney marathon," Patton said fondly.

"But you had fun?"

"Absolutely!"

"Good," Janus said, meaning it. There were very few people, in his opinion, who deserved happiness the way Patton did.

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Pat- what if it was a mistake? What if we just have defective marks or something?"

"I'm sure that's not true!" Patton insisted.

"It just seems like - I mean, we're not even friends. Most people get to start from strangers at worst, but we've been antagonizing each other for years, what if, I don't know. Neither of us had a soulmate and so they glitched out?"

"You just need to find some common ground," Patton said confidently. "You can't both be so passionate about being lawyers without something more in common. I believe in you, buddy!"

Janus sighed. "Thanks, Pat. Say hi to Roman for me, tell him Monty misses him."

"Will do, nephew! Call any time you need, okay?"

"Love you, Pat."

"Love you tooooo!"

Janus realized he'd circled the block and was back at the apartment entrance. He steeled himself, then went back up. He repressed the petty urge to bang open the door to disturb Logan's quiet as much as possible.

Logan wasn't in the common spaces, but emerged not long after Janus returned.

"I feel I must apologize," he began. "It wasn't my intent to denigrate how you work. It is just clear that sharing a workspace is not going to be preferable for either of us."

"Yes, I'm aware I had a bad idea," Janus said, overly patient. "Kind of an odd apology, but I accept. Can I have lunch now?"

"Yes, of course. May I join you?" Logan asked.

Janus raised a distrusting brow.

"The idea of spending time in the same space was a good one. I thought we might try a context in which we don't need to focus."

"Fine."

They prepared food around each other, both managing to bite their tongues when they needed the same counter space or cooking implements, which Janus was proud of himself for. They ate in silence.

Janus heard Logan sigh in exasperation and braced himself for yet another snippy comment. Instead, he heard an unexpected question.

"Do you enjoy superheroes?"

"To eat? No, they upset my stomach," Janus replied drily.

"I mean to watch. Superhero movies and shows."

"Occasionally, yeah, why?"

"Perhaps we could watch one this evening. At the same time."

"Sure."

And they parted to continue working on their own.

⁂

Logan had been correct that, as far as superhero movies went, the MCU was a safe choice.

In retrospect, though, perhaps Civil War had been... less so.

It had started when Steve first objected to the Sokovia Accord plan- and Logan had scoffed.

Quick as a cat’s pounce, or an adder’s strike, Janus’ head whipped around.

“You disagree?”

Logan glanced over briefly, screen light blinking off his glasses. “Well, of course. Didn’t New York and Sokovia show that some control is needed? Lawlessness leads to more civilian casualties.”

“And yet, if supers are controlled so much that risk of liability keeps them from acting at all, casualties would be just a tad higher, don’t you think?”

Tony and Steve’s voices raised on the screen as Logan replied, “What would the difference be of the villains and heroes if they all act with complete impunity?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did we lose mens rea when we switched over into Marvel-land?” Janus asked, voice clipped. “Isn’t the entire basis of our modern penal system based on culpability, not just the act or harm done?”

Logan looked down his nose. “Of course culpability matters. But you well know that one of the factors for absolute liability is when an act is inherently and extremely dangerous. Say, for instance, displays of superhuman force in a densely populated area.”

“So you don’t think there can be any space for personal judgment on the heroes’ behalf?” Janus asked incredulously.

“Look what that space did already! Does the name Ultron ring a bell?”

“So of course, the one who made a terrible call is the one who now wants to be restricted? That sounds like asking for the global government to save him from himself instead of taking responsibility.”

“Better that those with actual accountability be the ones bearing the responsibility!”

“Oh, yeah, and we can definitely trust this government’s judgment! A Hydra infestation was all part of the plan!” Janus’ voice was raising, far louder than the movie that still flickered on, ignored.

“There still needs to be rule of law! Steve wants to abandon it all for one person, and a war criminal at that-!”

“And that’s incomprehensible?”

“Of course!”

Janus fixed his supposed soulmate with a glare. “And you mean to tell me that there’s no one, no one, that you would be willing to burn the world down for?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, but Janus continued quickly before he could. “No one who won’t fight for themselves, because they think they’re not worth it, but you know they’re so worth it that you would be willing to kill for them?”

Logan, about to spit out an impulsive reply, paused, momentarily speechless. As clearly as if they were sitting on the edge of the couch next to him, his best friend from childhood filled his mind. Virgil, who never believed their worth no matter how many times Logan and their soulmate Remus told them so.

Janus saw the pause and continued softly. “I’m not saying rule of law isn’t important. But the trouble with laws is they’re only as tailored as legislators make them. And they’re human, and therefore fallible. We need exceptions, for those situations that they didn’t imagine.”

Logan struggled for moment, then replied, just as quietly, “You’re right.”

Janus’ mouth fell open in shock, but just as he did, the tv’s faint blue glow throughout the room was washed over with two beacons in blue and gold, blazing from their backs.

At the sight, Logan’s face went from contemplative and open to stony. He stood abruptly and stalked off into his room. The door closed behind him with a decisive click, and Janus was left staring at the wood in confusion and anger.

⁂

“I just don’t get it!” Janus whisper-screamed into the phone. He was power walking through a nearby park, moving so fast he’d passed a skateboarder and a particularly leisurely biker. “Does he want to keep on glowing forever? What is his problem?!”

Patton made sympathetic noises in response, quite familiar with the sound of Janus in full rant mode. Roman was lying with his head in his lap, listening on speaker, so Patton was settled in to be as receptive to his friend’s complaints as he needed.

“I mean, we finally agreed on something, besides the fact that we want to get this fucking resolved, and then he just, what, shuts me out? Literally and figuratively? I literally can’t even catch him leaving to the kitchen for food now!”

Patton winced. “Not since? But it’s been two days!”

“Two and a half, yeah,” Janus replied. His voice suddenly sounded weary. “I can’t keep doing this. The trial’s going on without us anyway, I might as well just give it up and make sure I never have to argue against him again.”

At that, Roman sat bolt upright. “Janus, my dear esquire! You cannot abandon your quest! This is your soulmate!”

“Yeah, well. Maybe some soulmarks are broken. Or we just met at the wrong time. Maybe if we’d met in law school we would have been a team, but now it’s too late.”

Janus sounded contemptuous, but Patton could hear a distinct note of regret.

“Maybe...” he started, but trailed off, thinking.

“Maybe what, Pat?”

“Well, it’s just that I’ve heard of soulmates who, you know, take an abnormally long time to bond, or manage to un-bond after years together, but they can fix it. Do you remember my old roommate?”

Janus wrinkled his nose. “Patton, are you suggesting couple’s therapy? I’m fairly certain that only applies to couples.”

“Well, you’ve kinda been forced to be one, right? At least to figure out bonding? They could probably help, or at least let you know if it’s not worth the effort.”

Janus sighed. “No, you’re right, it’s a good idea. I just have no idea how I’ll get Finch to go along with it.”

“Might I make a suggestion?” Roman asked politely.

“Sure.”

“Perhaps try calling him ‘Logan.’”

Janus rolled his eyes. “Worth a shot, I guess. Love you both.”

“Love you Jan!”

“Best of luck with the love of your soul!”

Back in the apartment, Logan was pacing in precise squares in his bedroom. He half-expected the rug to be worn down by the repeated impact at this point.

“L, I don’t know what to tell you, buddy,” the gravely voice on the phone said. “You really have only two options here: find a way to avoid him forever, which will probably involve having to turn down cases you’d like-“

“I bet he’d stay on them just to force me off,” Logan interrupted, growling.

“That is a possibility,” Virgil replied, their voice overly patient. “The other option, though, is to work this out,” they continued.

Logan scoffed.

“Lo, that doesn’t mean you’ve gotta turn into a Hallmark movie! But it’s clear this isn’t just going away, and it’s not like you’ve got nothing in common.”

Logan groaned. “Virge, I don’t-“

“I know, man. I know. But you can’t just hide in your room until he just decides to move out, which means you’re gonna have to talk to him at some point.”

Logan didn’t reply, just continued pacing.

“You know I’m right, Lo,” Virgil said patiently. “You don’t have to say it, just promise me you’re not going to keep being a hermit, okay?”

Logan sighed. “I promise.”

“There we go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

About to hang up, Logan heard a voice in the background and Virgil asked him to wait. Then, “Reme wants to say hi.”

Logan let out an exasperated sigh, but he was smiling. “Fine, I’ll allow it-“

“Loooogggyyyyy! How’s the soulmate boning going? Have you figured out that you’re a power bottom yet?”

“Hello, Remus. I take it you’re well.”

“Let’s just say I’m glad you’re my brother-in-law because I may have some need for a lawyer soon.”

Logan couldn’t conceal the grin from his voice as he replied, “As I know you know, I am not a defense attorney, nor would I ever be so unwise as to take you as a client.”

“Aww, you’re such a smart cookie! And by cookie I mean a snack, because mmmm-MMMm you’re a snacc!”

“Always glad to know I’m appreciated,” Logan replied drily. “Goodbye, Virgil. Goodbye, Remus.”

“See ya, L.”

“Byeeeeeeeeeee!”

⁂

When Janus returned, he was a bit taken aback to see Logan sitting in an armchair, reading. At the sound of the door, he looked up.

“Ah, Alighieri. I- I wanted to apologize for my behavior.”

Janus paused. It was a good sign, but still so unexpected as to be unsettling.

Logan cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have left you in a lurch. You did not cause this situation anymore than did I, and you have not been unkind. I have a suggestion for how we might move forward.”

Janus winced internally, thinking of another disastrous attempt at a movie or workspace. “I actually had a thought on that as well, but um. What was yours?”

Logan cleared his throat again. “Well, since we have been... brought into this situation together, but as a pair are struggling to adjust, it seems logical to consult with an expert, much as we would in our work. Therefore, we should consult a professional on personal relationships.”

“Oh, thank god,” muttered Janus. “Yeah, I was gonna suggest a couples counselor too. I think that would make sense. And I actually have a personal reference to a very experienced therapist.”

That settled, they found the earliest possible appointment, only two days later.

“I do need to warn you-“ Janus said as they walked up to the office. It was their first time out of the apartment together, and it had been a very quiet walk over. “The methods of this therapist are- unorthodox. But they are highly acclaimed in their field.”

“Oh, are they an enby?” Logan asked.

“Yes and no,” Janus replied. “You see, there’s two of them.”

“Two?”

“Yeah, they’re a couple therapist that is also a couple.”

“I don’t- well- I mean, that’s odd, right?”

Janus grinned. “Yeah, odd is a common word to describe them. But they’re highly praised and like I said, they were recommended personally.”

“Right,” Logan said, squaring his shoulders. “An open mind is helpful for effective therapy, after all.”

“That’s the spirit! I think,” Janus replied, holding the door open.

A gothy receptionist showed them to a private room with a comfortably large couch. Logan looked around in trepidation and slight alarm at the decorations. There were countless Funko-Pops, posters, stuffed animals, and an alarmingly high number of travel mugs from what looked like every single cartoon that had ever existed.

Janus was slightly more prepared then Logan, but he still jumped out of his skin by the sudden singing coming around the door. A deep voice was booming, “Duhhh duh-duh-duh-duh-da-DUH!” in a building crescendo that went on and on, until both lawyers were staring in a mixture of confusion and irritation.

Then a tall, lanky man slid in the door and lowered his glasses to wink at them both. “Hey babes. Welcome to therapy.”

The singer followed him through the door, their bright pink hair a sharp contrast to their warm brown skin. “And thank you as always for the intro, honey!”

They smiled, big and toothy. “Welcome indeed! I’m Dr. Emile Picani, pronouns they/them, and this tall drink of coffee is my partner, Dr. Remy Picani, pronouns he/him! And you are Janus and Logan, correct?”

Logan looked a bit stunned still, so Janus took the lead. “Yes, I’m Janus Alighieri and this is Logan Finch, pronouns he/him for both. And I was referred by Patton Corwan-Augustus.”

Emile smiled even bigger, if that were possible. “Oh Patty! Best roommate ever, I still miss his brownies. It’s lovely to meet you both!”

“Best roommate? What am I, chopped liver?” Remy asked, hand pressed to his chest.

“Best friend, best coffee-maker, best of men and best of husbands,” Emile replied, and said husband immediately blushed.

Logan coughed politely. “Have you been married long?”

Remy smiled, still pink around the edges. “We’ve actually been married almost 10 years. The minute we graduated university, actually, when we knew our parents had not a shred left of financial control. We went through our PhDs together, which is why, of course, we’re qualified to help out other couples, because let me tell you, would not recommend.”

“Which brings us, of course, to you two!” Emile said brightly. “What is your goal in coming to therapy?”

Janus and Logan both began speaking at once.

“Well, it started in court-“

“It was completely unexpected, we’ve known each other for years-“

“-dreadfully embarrassing, not to mention the professional ramifications-“

“-it just feels like something’s missing-“

“-really want to just sort this out-“

“-just want to figure out the disconnect-“

“-and we can forget about the whole thing.”

“-want to make this work.”

They looked at each other, shocked, as their words both sank in.

Emile was tapping their Powerpuff Girls pencil topper steadily against their lips, eyes wide behind their pink-framed glasses.

Remy, at their side, leaned back and took a long, loud slurp of his iced coffee, rattling the ice around until the room’s attention was on him. Then he looked up and said, “Hoooo-wheee.”

“So I’m getting a lot of differing goals here,” Emile said delicately. “Let’s start with you, Janus. Can you expand, please?”

Janus tried to speak, but felt like his voice had dropped into the cold pit that was suddenly his stomach. “I, um,” he started with a shaky breath. He barely noticed when Remy pushed a cup of ice water into his hand, but a sip steadied him somewhat.

“You can look just at me, if that helps,” Emile said softly. “Or at my buddy Kaa here.” They gestured to the stuffed snake on the shelf behind them.

He looked like a fuzzy little Monty. That would do.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Janus said, acknowledging the water from Remy. “So. We’ve been rival lawyers for years, because we’re both the best at what we do. It was shocking, to suddenly be glowing in open court, but I thought we just needed to find common ground that’s not arguing. That’s why I’m here, at least.”

“And Logan?” Emile asked, still in that kind voice. Logan wouldn’t meet their eyes, though, or anyone’s.

“I thought- we both seemed so upset by the news. Or at least, I was, and perceived you to be as well.” He didn’t look up as he addressed Janus, but his eyes shifted over and took root on Janus’ polished loafers. “My plan was to spend whatever time was needed to stop glowing, then get back to our respective lives.”

“Do either of you have a question you’d like to ask of one another?” Remy asked. “It can be as large or small scale as you’d like, serious or frivolous.”

Both men looked up at the lanky therapist, who’d actually removed his dark glasses, revealing slightly foggy-looking irises. “Logan, it looks like you have one.”

“Oh- yes. So, Alighieri- I mean, Janus. To be clear- you were not upset by the news?”

Janus took a breath. “I mean, I was shocked, and upset to be removed in the middle of a case. But not about the soulmate thing, specifically. And I have a question too?” He looked to the therapists, who both nodded.

Janus looked over, and saw the Logan was watching him in his periphery. “When you say you were upset about the news- was it about the soulmate thing, or about me as your soulmate?”

Logan actually sat up, looking shocked. “Oh, goodness gracious. Absolutely about the concept of ‘soulmate’ in general, not personal in any way. Did I-?”

“Well, yeah, a bit,” Janus said.

“I am- I am so sorry. I would have absolutely have been equally upset, no matter who I found to be an accidental soulmate.”

Janus felt his stomach unclench just a bit.

“Logan, what about soulmates in general upsets you?” Emile asked.

Logan’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and he stayed silent for a moment, then two. Finally, he said curtly, “I never asked for one. And no one asked if I wanted one, either.”

“No one asked if I wanted to be trans, and yet here I am,” Emile said with a cheeky grin. “We don’t always get a say over the circumstances of our birth.”

“But Emmy, you’ve found self-acceptance and happiness deriving from coming out,” Remy put in. “Logan, were you content with life before this reveal?”

Logan nodded.

“So there was no sense of dysphoria prior, or absence of a euphoria that was gained since.”

Again, Logan nodded.

“Couldn’t-“ Janus began. His throat felt a bit stuck. “Couldn’t there be something to be gained, though?”

Logan picked up a small figurine of Dexter from the table next to the couch, and fiddled with it in his lap as he spoke. “It’s not impossible, there could certainly be gains from a better acquaintance with you. But that’s not what a soulmate is supposed to be, is it? They’re supposed to complete you,” he said, his voice dripping in disdain. “Because you were incomplete before. Because you weren’t enough, alone, you were just waiting for the One. And of course, you can’t be trusted to find them yourself, some cosmic force determines it for you.”

Remy rested his hand in his hand, elbow propped on his knee. “Spill it, sis.”

Logan stared in confusion.

Remy smiled. “It means, approximately, ‘continue, you’ve got something good to say’. I’m getting a lot here- but a lot of the frustration seems to be with the idea that forces you can’t control are messing with your life, is that fair?”

Logan shifted. “Well, yeah, but that makes me sound like a control freak.”

“Not at all,” Janus interrupted. “Of course you don’t want something incomprehensible to make decisions for you. That’s not controlling, that’s perfectly understandable and human!”

Logan managed a small smile in response.

Emile beamed. “I couldn’t have said it better myself!”

“But I am def gonna poke some holes in your thought bubble,” Remy said cheerfully. “Starting with this: what do you mean when you say a soulmate is intended to be The One?”

Logan stared in disbelief. “Come on. Really? Look at, I don’t know, any piece of media ever. Or at you two. Or at my- friend and his husband. Or any other pair of soulmates!”

Janus added, “I mean, that’s what’s intended, right? With the whole ‘marked from birth’ thing?”

Emile looked at them both very seriously. “Did you know that Remy isn’t The One for me?”

“But he’s your soulmate?” Janus gasped out.

Emile nodded gravely. “He is my soulmate. But he is not my only soulmate.”

“I was designated female at birth to very traditional parents. They wanted me to marry my soulmate at 18, like they had, and they assumed he’d be a man. But my other soulmate was a girl, and I loved her with all my heart. And when I realized I wasn’t a girl, I thought my parents might accept us more. I was wrong.” They took a breath. “We were separated. I don’t know what happened to her. But it was enough to know that my parents didn’t care about my happiness, soulmate or no.”

“I’m so sorry,” Logan said quietly, and Janus nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“I was lucky, though,” they continued. “I found Remy only two years later. And he accepted me as I am, both my gender and my other soulmate. And the cartoons, of course.”

“I never got to meet her,” Remy said. “So we will never know if she was my soulmate, too. I choose to believe she wasn’t. I think she could have been Emile’s one and only, had they been able to stay together. And that doesn’t make me feel any less lucky to be Emile’s husband, nor any less loved by them.”

“And not to shock you even more, but not all soulmates are romantic,” Emile said. “I know that’s the media portrayal- but well, the media is also pretty straight. And cis. And white. And neurotypical. And-”

“What they’re getting at,” Remy interrupted, “is that common portrayals miss a lot of the variety and complexity of humanity as a whole, let alone the complexity of relationships.”

Logan was sitting very still, and not speaking. Janus was trying to wrap his mind around this, and spoke with uncharacteristic uncertainty as he asked, “So- for instance, um, you could have soulmates who are, uh, queerplatonic partners?”

Logan’s head snapped up, staring at Janus with wide eyes.

Remy grinned. “Yes, of course! I was worried I was going to have to do a vocab lesson, but you both seem to know what that is.”

“But-“ Janus began, brows furrowing.

“But that means-“ Logan muttered to himself.

“Why isn’t he my soulmate?” Janus asked, at the same time Logan asked, “Why aren’t they my soulmate?”

Lit by the twin glows reflecting against the wall, the therapist couple exchanged a pregnant look. Emile reached out and took a hand of each patient. “I know this is a lot to process, but I really want you to keep something in mind: a soulmate is not the only way we can love someone. It’s not the ‘best’ way or only valid way to love someone. The same way the platonic love you clearly both hold for a significant person in your life is no less valid than romantic.”

Remy sat up straight. “I want you both to think about this when you go home. Your love for your QPPs is wonderful, and worth cherishing. And I know you are both lawyers, so here’s a question for you to brief. We cannot know the actual intent of whatever force gave you marks that respond to each other. So I want to you look for what evidence there might be, in each other, for your connection.”

Emile added on, “You have a link, and it’s worth exploring. It doesn’t have to ever be more important, more meaningful than another connection you have. But understanding it is critical to bonding successfully.”

“I think we should wrap there, for this week,” Remy added. “But you can talk about this, of course, without us.”

Janus and Logan nodded, and left. The walk home was as quiet as the walk there had been, but this time the air thrummed with thoughts and ponderings.

⁂

Janus and Logan made dinner with relatively little talk, only quiet asks to pass a spice or a cooking implement. It wasn't an uncomfortable quiet, but one where their minds were far too loud to vocalize just yet.

Janus quietly suggested putting on TV, and picked the game show network as a neutral, unobjectionable option.

They ate as they watched, still burdened with their own thoughts, but slowly started to murmur the correct questions under their breath before the Jeopardy contestants were able to.

Final Jeopardy, as luck would have it, was on Latin - but specifically, Latin as used in law. Both attorneys chuckled at the contestants' answers, some of which weren't even close to correct.

Janus directed a cautious smile in Logan's direction, and found it reciprocated. But as he saw that familiar glow start to reflect off the walls, he tensed, waiting for Logan flee once more.

For the first time, though, he didn't. His eyes widened as he took in the lights, but he didn't move to stand or leave.

"About today-" Logan began. "I don't know that I am quite ready to discuss it all, but I did want to once again apologize for my handling of this situation, and its emotional impact on you. It was entirely unintentional, but I regret causing you distress."

"Thank you," Janus replied softly. "And thank you for being willing and open to go to counseling. I learned a lot today, all of it important."

"I'd like to talk about it tomorrow, if you'd be willing," Logan added. "There are some additional details I need to share, but I don't think I'm able at the present moment."

"Sounds good," Janus nodded. "I'm going to turn in for the night. Sleep well."

"You as well."

But despite feeling tired, Janus found he wasn't at all sleepy. He ended up sitting up until the wee hours of the morning, stroking Monty gently and thinking a great deal.

⁂

The next morning, Janus woke up much earlier than his usual habit, but he needn't have worried - Logan was clearly waiting for him in the kitchen, sipping coffee and idly solving the entire Sunday crossword.

He looked up at the sound of Janus' door, and indicated the mostly-full coffee pot with a nod. Janus gratefully filled a mug for himself and lightened it thoroughly with cream, drinking deep as he stood angled so that he could offer critique and suggestions on the crossword.

"No, shush," Janus said, though Logan had not spoken. "It's gotta be White. Y'know, Betty? C'mon. Most-loved Gold? It's obvious."

Logan just smiled and penned in “White” in the horizontal boxes, immediately able to fill in the Down clues crossing them.

Once the puzzle was complete, Janus refilled his coffee and sat properly at the kitchen island.

"So, if you're amenable-" Logan began. "I believe I'm prepared to discuss yesterday in more detail."

Janus nodded. "Did you want to start off?"

"Yes, I think I must. Because there was one detail that I wasn't quite prepared to share that I think will be quite helpful in securing a full understanding."

At Janus' encouraging nod, Logan closed his eyes to take a breath, and said, "The truth is, I'm an aromantic asexual. That's why the concept of a soulmate was so upsetting to me, particularly because up until this week I had assumed I didn't have one."

Janus looked down. "I'm ace, too, but not aro, and... yeah, same boat, mostly. I thought I wouldn't have one, but when we started to glow, I assumed it must be romantic. But that must not be the case."

Logan tented his fingers together. "So you're not aro, but you do have a QPP?"

"Yeah - I definitely can experience romantic attraction, but what I feel for Patton has always been stronger, and different."

"I'd like to hear about him, if you'd be willing," Logan said softly, and was rewarded by a smile that seemed about to glow as brightly as his soulmark on Janus' face.

"Oh, he's just the best," Janus gushed. "I met him at the perfect time in my life. I'd just been dumped by an asshole because he couldn't deal with the fact that the asexual part wasn't just me being a tease. I was feeling pretty low, post-college, all alone in a new apartment, and then this beam of sunshine turns out to be the kind of neighbor who brings cookies as a greeting. Even though I wasn't exactly receptive, he just kept coming back, even just to check up on me, and soon I found myself looking forward to it, and then inviting myself over in return."

Logan paused. "Wait, your ex broke up with you because you were ace? Was it a surprise?"

Janus rolled his eyes. "No, not in the least. I'd told him, and reminded him, and he'd just been assuming I would 'get over it,' the fucker. Right after the breakup, there were times I wondered if he was right, if I should have just powered through my repulsion to make him happy. But Patton was amazing about that, too. When he heard what happened - oh my goodness, he was so angry on my behalf, he looked like he was going to Hulk out. And then he made it his mission to make sure I was being validated in my identity and knew that I was eminently lovable both in spite of and because of my aceness."

Logan smiled. "That's wonderful. I can see why you love him so much."

Janus sighed happily. "And it hasn't changed even though he's met his allo soulmate. Roman knows that our bond isn't and will never be a threat to theirs, and he makes Pat so happy. They're planning their wedding right now, but they've already signed all the papers and it'll just be a party where they gush about each other in public."

Janus sat for a moment, basking in the glow of his affection for Patton, before he turned to Logan and asked, “You have a QPP too, right?”

“I do,” Logan said, a smile stretching across his face unconsciously. “Their name is Virgil. And they’re also married to their soulmate.”

“Tell me about them,” Janus said, when Logan fell silent.

“They’re- they are just amazing. They’re my best friend, have been since about fourth grade. ” Logan’s eyes went a bit misty as he considered his childhood. “We bonded over being surrounded by idiots, after a debate simulation where we were on opposing sides.”

Janus smirked. “You mean I’m not your first? I’m heartbroken.”

Logan shot him a glare, but it had none of true anger’s heat.

“I guess we always had the feeling that we weren’t quite like everyone else. Besides the introverted tendencies, it wasn’t really a shock when they came out as nonbinary. They’d been online, discovering new terms, and in learning about their identity I ran into the aro and ace labels. I felt seen, do you know what I mean? And then Virgil just compounded that feeling by immediately understanding and accepting me. They call me a brother, just to explain that our relationship isn’t “just” friends.”

“What was it like when they met their soulmate?” Janus asked.

“It wasn’t nearly as smooth as your experience seems to have been,” Logan admitted.

“Their husband is... unique. Prone to rather odd fixations and interests. But he’s also demisexual, and like us, had thought he wouldn’t have a soulmate. And part of his defense mechanism against that kind of rejection was, well. Embracing his off-putting side. Being disgusting for the sake of it. Grossing out others before they could judge him for his orientation.”

Janus grimaced. “I know that feeling, all too well. Donning a mask, so that a rejection won’t be of you, just your persona.”

“Exactly,” Logan said, nodding. “I don’t think it helped that both Virgil’s and Remus’ soulmarks were in their hair. They’d both dyed their hair many times over the years, but it wasn’t enough to hide it. And once they had shown up- there was no more pretending.”

“Was it hard for them?” Janus asked.

“Accepting it was. But then they started actually talking and then it just- clicked. All those macabre interests that overlapped, the mutual obsession with MCR. They fell in love the minute they both let their walls down. And like you said- it never really changed what I had with Virge. They didn’t meet Reme until college, and didn’t get married until last year. So Virge told Reme that I was here to stay, and part of their life, and he accepted it without a blink. He’s a forensic archeologist now, to Virge’s forensic detective, so they’ve actually both been helpful in cases, too.”

“That’s... kind of adorable, in a weird way,” Janus said, scrunching his nose.

Logan chuckled. “‘Adorable in a weird way’ is the best possible description for their relationship.”

Janus tapped his finger on the island. “That sounds so familiar, though, and I can’t quite place it.” He closed his eyes, murmuring under his breath. “Wait! Is Virgil’s husband an Augustus?”

“That was his surname, yes, though now it’s Angelico-“

“Oh my god!” Janus burst out. “That’s Patton’s brother-in-law!”

“What?”

“Roman Augustus! That’s his soulmate’s name! And he had a twin, but they had a falling out and haven’t been in contact for a couple of years. But he said he’d been in forensics!”

Logan blinked. “Well, it is certainly a small world. Not that Remus has ever talked about his brother, but I knew he had one.”

“That’s kind of crazy. What are the chances?” Janus asked, laughing.

Logan looked pointedly over. “Do you really want to know? I could calculate them-“

“Thanks, calculator watch, but I’m good.”

They both chuckled quietly, sitting side by side at the kitchen island.

“Hey, uh- thank you for trusting me, with the other day, and with this,” Janus said softly.

“I owe you thanks as well,” Logan replied. “I don’t frequently have the opportunity to talk about Virgil in detail and it’s- it’s nice.”

Janus just beamed, returning the sentiment without words.

In that moment, the sunlight of the room was tinged with colored light, gold and blue overlapping into rich emerald.

Logan hesitated, seeing it, but after a moment lifted his arm. Janus smiled and leaned in, accepting the offered side-hug.

“Hey Finch- I mean, Logan?”

“Yes Janus?”

“I may not be sure yet why we’re soulmates, but I’m definitely not disappointed that we are.”

A beat.

Then a soft murmur replied, “Neither am I.”

⁂

Later that afternoon, Logan returned from stocking up on more food to find Janus lying upside-down on the couch, lanky legs dangling over the back. His face was red enough to show that he’d been sitting there for a while as the blood rushed downward.

“I cannot imagine that is at all comfortable,” Logan commented drily, neatly putting away the packets of noodles and snacks he’d purchased.

“It helps me think,” Janus replied. “Especially when I’m trying to see something from another perspective.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “This better not have been a set-up just to make that terrible pun.”

Janus looked over, grinning. “It actually started that way, not gonna lie. I’d been venting to Patton about an oral argument simulation in law school and he suggested this as a joke. And then it actually helped.”

Logan huffed in what sounded suspiciously like a muffled laugh and came to sit more normally in a chair next to the couch. “So what is it that you’re trying to change your perception of so literally?”

“Our case, actually - Gomex.” At Logan’s quizzical look, he replied, “The partners aren’t letting me onto new cases until they know I’ll be back in person. I’m getting bored. So I thought, you know. Why not figure out what I was missing in this one.” He shrugged, an odd contortion for an inverted torso.

“You were missing something? But you won at trial.”

“And I was caught off-guard by your appeal - or at least, the part where it survived my motion to dismiss.”

Logan allowed himself a satisfied smirk. “Surprised you with my impeccable research, did I? All my rock-solid precedent pointing out the clear error in the original jury instruction?”

Janus’ legs kicked idly in the air. “Your research is always impeccable. Of course you were able to find precedent on-point for the general issue, you’re good at this. But the facts of the case are just so different that how could any of those past rulings be definitive?”

Logan leaned back in his chair, tapping the arm pensively. “Wait, so you really believe that? It wasn’t just a tactic to make Gomex feel like they’re getting their money’s worth for your legal fees?”

Janus finally righted himself, sitting upright with a leg balancing on the coffee table. “Well, yeah , of course I do. I don’t take the time and effort to go to trial for bullshit unless the client can’t be talked down from combat mode. Racking up charges for unnecessary trial prep is only fun when they don’t take my advice.” He looked quizzically at Logan. “So you really didn’t see the difference between Gomex and, what, Sourgoutsis?”

“No material difference, no. It’s in the right circuit, it’s recent and binding, and it established a test that clearly applies here.”

“But the test requires knowledge!”

“Knowing includes reckless disregard for the truth, and Gomex had that.”

“Oh, you can hardly say it’s reckless when all the claims were paid without issue for a decade!”

Logan leaned forward, counting off points on his fingers. “The guidance is updated each year. The commentary points out the changes. Gomex has to certify as a company that they accept all current guidance and direction. If they didn’t actually know they were submitting false claims, they should have known, and had a duty to know.”

Janus’ eyes were flashing, but more with excitement than anger. “But even the commentary didn’t clarify that these specific claims would no longer be accepted in the future. Doesn’t the agency have a duty to be clear about changes in accepted policy when the code is so vast and companies used past claims as standards for future approval?”

“But the companies are the experts in their own industries. They should know that these kind of differences are significant and material.”

Janus sat up fully straight, pointing enthusiastically. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“I figured it out! It is a matter of perspective. But not the perspective of side versus side, like I was thinking. It’s time.”

Logan leaned in, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Expand, please.”

Janus nodded, mirroring Logan’s pose even as his hands remained free to gesture. “So you’re looking at this as: company knows their procedures best, they’re the ones making profit off it, so their duty to know details is higher than the public agency. Right?”

Logan nodded.

“Here’s where I’m coming from - it’s not a question of if this company knew or should have known this distinction, or even if this industry has the expertise that the agency lacks. It’s about what this case would do to the Sourgoutsis test for cases in the future. If the agency doesn’t have to clarify a policy change now, why would it ever? If it’s not enough that companies rely on a long history of approval here, when will it ever be? Do you follow, Logan?”

Logan linked his fingers, tapping the tips of his forefingers gently. “So your concern is about using a history of compliance as evidence of good faith?”

“Exactly, yes.”

“But Gomex knew that the change meant the compliant history was no longer relevant.”

“Only because they had insider knowledge of the change process. Not from the public information.”

“Wait, so you agree that Gomex knew?”

Janus grinned sheepishly, baring all his teeth. “Well, we’re both off the case now, so- yeah. They knew or should have known their claims would get rejected and banked on the agency not noticing for just long enough.”

Logan gasped. “But you still went into court and got the jury to agree with you that they didn’t!?”

Janus shrugged pragmatically. “It’s not about Gomex, it’s about the precedent this will set. I’d rather one bad actor get away with it now than have who-knows-how-many claims get screwed in the future for a good-faith misunderstanding.”

“Especially if that bad actor is paying you millions to help them get away with it?” Logan asked with an eyebrow raised.

Janus raised one of his own. “So you’d rather let a bad test become binding because the agency is paying you millions to get it set in stone?”

Logan, about to respond hotly, paused. “I suppose that’s a fair assessment. I didn’t think it was that bad a test until now - I assumed the insider knowledge would be baked into the standard.”

“You gotta think cynically, Mr. Finch,” Janus said with a chuckle. “Picture the worst-faith application and work backwards from there, cause you know it’ll end up happening.”

“Hmm,” Logan said with a quiet laugh. “When you’re right, you’re right.”

Janus fluttered his lashes. “The great Logan Finch thinks I’m right about something. My life’s goal is achieved.”

“Hey, I think you’re correct quite a lot!” Logan objected. “Infuriatingly precise and pedantic, sure, but ultimately right. There’s a reason my firm sends me against you - no one else wants to fight what’ll be a losing battle half the time.”

“Only half?”

“Even you must admit I’ve been correct on more than one occasion,” Logan said with a smile.

“That is true,” Janus admitted. “Knowing that you’re going to be the opposing counsel always makes me up my game.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Logan said wryly. “I’d never admit it to the other partners, but you make me a better lawyer, Janus.”

The flattered glow of Janus’ grin was immediately dwarfed by two other, brighter bursts of light. Gold and blue pulsed from their backs in a flash, then settled into steady light. The colors lit the stylish room, blending to emerald as they pulsed in time with each man’s heartbeat. Logan looked at the glow reflected on the white couch cushions with wonder as he realized that Janus’ back was no longer shining blue, but green. He caught his eyes and realized his own glow must have changed colors as well.

The lights pulsed more and more gently until they dimmed and went out, leaving Janus and Logan sitting across from one another just as the last of the sunlight fell below the horizon and the room went dark.

The silence stretched for several moments, until Janus finally broke it with a bemused, “Huh.”

“So that was-”

“I think so.

“So now we’re-”

“Bonded, yeah. I think.”

“That would be a logical assumption.”

The silence returned, each man lost in his own thoughts. When they spoke again, it was at once.

“Maybe we should-”

“Perhaps we could still-”

“-make sure it’s permanent?

“-take a few days more?”

They shared a grin.

“A couple more days couldn’t hurt,” Janus said. “After all, it could be a fluke. We wouldn’t want to set a standard from a mere fluke.”

“Oh, of course not,” Logan responded with the same tone of amusement. “We want to confirm the integrity of the test.”

Janus stood to flick on a light, then turned as a thought occurred.

“Wait, Logan - even once we go back, we won’t be able to be opposing counsel anymore. The soulmate code will still be applied, even though we’re not romantic or QP soulmates.”

Logan’s face fell for a moment, then lit up once more as he stood. “Well, we’ve got a couple days at least. I think the two best lawyers in the state might be able to argue that every precedent has an exception, don’t you, Mr. Alighieri?”

Janus’ smile mirrored Logan’s own as he replied, “Why yes, Mr. Finch, I think we might.”

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ao3feed-fierrochase · 3 years

Text

but the speech is coming back (with a vengeance it seems)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3kilmsR

by BakedBananners

“I need your help,” he reiterated, “with Alex.” “Ohhh?” She perked right up at the mention of her name.

“I think she dumped me.”

“Ohhhhh,” Annabeth deflated a bit. “Sorry about that.”

“Well- I don’t know- if we were even really dating in the first place.” Magnus tried to explain. He walked over and sat on her bed. The way his feet dangled above the floor made him feel like a child. He clasped his hands together in an anxious ritual. “I thought it was more than, I dunno, friendship, but… I dunno,” he finished lamely.

...

Magnus and Alex get together, and they break up not even a month later.

Words: 13745, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M

Characters: Magnus Chase, Alex Fierro, Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson), Athena (Percy Jackson), Samirah al-Abbas, Sif (Magnus Chase), Thomas Jefferson Jr. (Magnus Chase), Mallory Keen, Halfborn Gunderson

Relationships: Magnus Chase/Alex Fierro, Magnus Chase & Alex Fierro, Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson) & Magnus Chase, Samirah al-Abbas & Alex Fierro, Magnus Chase & Athena (Percy Jackson), Alex Fierro & Sif, Athena & Frederick Chase, Sif/Thor, Samirah al-Abbas/Amir Fadlan, Halfborn Gunderson/Mallory Keen

Additional Tags: Queerplatonic Relationships, Queerplatonic Fierrochase, this one goes out to all my fellow aspecs heehee, Genderfluid Character, Asexuality, Demisexuality, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Relationship Discussions, Demisexual Alex Fierro, Panromantic Asexual Magnus Chase, Self-Indulgent, THIS IS SO SELF INDULGENT TEEHEE, Dorks in Love, i cannot emphasize enough how in love they are, Internalized Acephobia, its like subtext but yeah, Asexual Relationship, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Break Up, Haircuts, Extended Metaphors, Queerplatonic love, asexual love, Hiking, unnecessarily deep explanations of massachusettes nature reservations, American Sign Language, multiple instances of plant symbolism, Shapeshifting, Internalized Transphobia, Friendship, one (1) reference to The Odyssey

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3kilmsR

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #fierrochase #Magnus Chase #Alex Fierro #Magnus Chase and The Gods of Asgard

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ao3feed-destiel-02 · 10 months

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your needs my needs

your needs, my needs https://ift.tt/dqpl0cz by junkyardheart “You enjoy sex,” he says simply. “Uh, well… yeah.” “I want to make you happy Dean. I want to give you everything you need,” Cas whispers as he smooths his thumb across Dean’s pink cheek. He purposefully doesn’t mention all the other reasons he wants to do this. “You already do. More than that man, you’re here. That’s enough for me.” Castiel knows that’s not true. It can’t be enough because it’s not everything. Dean needs someone who can give him everything. -------------- this is part 2 to weeds or wildflowers? a fic i wrote as an exploration of what it would be like for dean and cas to be in a queer-platonic relationship. in these fics cas is ace, and dean is aromantic, and they're learning how to make it work. this particular fic is 2 years on from w.o.w and focuses on cas' asexuality. Words: 4568, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Weeds or Wildflowers Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural) Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Asexual Castiel (Supernatural), Aromantic Dean Winchester, Queer-Platonic Relationship, Mentions of Masturbation, Panic Attacks, (minor) - Freeform, Internalized Acephobia via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/XSI045v July 10, 2023 at 03:47PM

#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester'#Destiel #ao3feed #ao3feed Destiel #Destiel fanfic #Dean Winchester/Castiel #Castiel/Dean Winchester #Dean x Castiel #Castiel x Dean

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thatsamericano · 3 years

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I Just Want You To Know Who I Am

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano. Brief appearances from Spain, Belgium, and Veneziano. Background mention of Gerita.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mentions of transphobia, misgendering, and gender dysphoria. Some internalized acephobia. The fic is overall very fluffy in tone, and none of the characters are shown dealing with someone who doesn’t accept their sexuality or gender identity.

Summary: Romano didn’t always have the words to tell people who he was, but now that he does, he wants America to know he’s transgender. He’s scared, but he isn’t going to let that stop him anymore.

Word Count: 3065

Savino was glad he had words to succinctly describe who he was now. A long time ago, there hadn’t been words to describe the innate sense of wrongness he felt in his own body, his aversion to the name his grandfather had given him that went beyond his personal issues with the man, or the inexplicable way he’d felt like crying every time someone complimented him by telling him what a pretty little girl he was.

Centuries ago, when he was small, confused, and terrified, he tried to explain it for the first time. Spain was his guardian, and the only person he could turn to. Savino had told Antonio that he didn’t want to wear dresses like Belgium did. He wanted to wear trousers like Spain and have his hair cut like Spain’s too.

“But why?” Spain had asked, brow creased in confusion. “You look so preciosa in the clothes you have now.”

Romano had looked away, ashamed. “I… I don’t want to be preciosa, Spain. I want to be precioso.”

Spain blinked, stunned by what Romano had said. He’d probably never heard of such a thing, but to his credit, he had reacted as well as could be expected. He smiled at Romano and ruffled his hair. “I’ll make you some trousers and a shirt then, mijo.”

“Grazie, Tonio.” There was something that felt so right about Spain calling him mijo, acknowledging him as a son instead of a daughter. He puffed up his chest with a pride he’d never felt before.

“Of course. Should I call you another name too?”

“Just call me Romano for now.” He wasn’t sure of the human name he wanted yet.

Spain had helped so much after Romano told him the truth as he understood it back then. He cut Romano’s hair, dressed him as a boy, and agreed to use the human name Romano eventually decided upon. Spanish and Italian were both gendered languages, and Spain was very good about referring to him with the right endearments and adjectives. He complimented his little henchman just as much as he had before, but he never called him preciosa again.

When Belgium saw him in trousers for the first time, she had naturally been confused. Antonio had rubbed the back of his neck and sheepishly explained how he had been mistaken. Romano had always been a boy, but he hadn’t known. And since he was a boy, he ought to wear boy clothes and have his hair cut like one.

Belgium had bent down closer to his height and told Savino what a handsome boy he was. And that had made him feel so wonderful, to have someone else see him as a boy, especially a beautiful woman like Belgium. Romano had been able to explain everything to her later once he was an adult and had better language to describe who he was. Belgium nodded along with a soft little smile and said she hadn’t known that at the time, but figured it might have been something like that later, when she had been able to reflect on what happened with a better, more modern understanding of transgender people. She agreed to keep it secret for Savino, since it wasn’t something he wanted spread around.

He’d told Veneziano too. By then, he was presenting as a boy and most people believed he was one because they didn’t know he’d ever been considered a girl. Veneziano knew about his past, but it didn’t seem to make a difference to him. “Famiglia is famiglia,” he’d said. “And a fratello’s just as good as a sorella.” After asking for his new human name, Feliciano had hugged him and told him he didn’t need to know anything else unless Savino wanted to share it with him. From that day on, Feli had been just like Tonio. He never spoke to him as if he wasn’t a man, even if the idea of someone like Savino being a man wasn’t well understood at the time.

There were others he’d told over the years, mostly his prospective lovers. Savino couldn’t risk someone being disgusted by the sight of his naked body, so he’d always told them in advance, long before he got involved with them physically. But each time he was taking a huge risk, not just of rejection but of violence. Humans were not kind to men like him, and nations wouldn’t necessarily be either. There were many people he wanted but never pursued for that very reason, and America was one of them.

Alfred seemed kind, and he was a loud and vocal supporter of LGBT rights. He saw himself as a hero, and he truly wanted to make the world a better place for everyone. Once, Alfred had put his arm around Savino’s shoulders and promised that Romano could count on him if he was ever in a fix. Romano had pretended to be annoyed, mostly because he liked America’s arm around his shoulders a little too much. He liked Alfred a little too much, and he had for decades, ever since he had lived in his house so long ago and grown to feel like Alfred’s place was a home as much as he anywhere that wasn’t South Italy could be. But he couldn’t bring himself to admit he loved him, not now, not when he hadn’t revealed something so important about who he was. It was one thing to be rejected by someone you had a silly crush on that didn’t mean anything, but it was another thing to be rejected by someone you loved. Savino didn’t know if he could survive the latter.

Romano was in such a better place than he’d been when he told Spain that first time, so long ago. He knew who he was and he had words for it that would make sense to other people who had never felt as he did. He’d been living as a man for centuries, and no one had questioned that in a long time. The twentieth century had brought with it medicines and surgeries for men like him, wonderful inventions that could bring his body more in line with his internal sense of himself. Romano still had occasional bouts of dysphoria, but now he could look at his naked body in the mirror without shame. He was mostly fine with who he was these days, and with the long journey he’d taken to get there. But would America be?

There was only one way to find out. Romano frowned down at his phone as he pressed the button to call America. It rang once, twice before America picked up.

“Hey, Little Italy! I’m so glad you called! I’ve been totally bored, and I’ve had no one to talk to all day!”

Romano smirked and decided to tease America a little. He enjoyed teasing him, seeing the way his face would get all red as he shyly glanced away. If only he’d ever been able to kiss Alfred when he was acting like that. “So you were lonely without me, Fredo?”

“I… uh, I didn’t say that. No, ‘cause like I tried to call Mattie, but he was hanging out with the Netherlands and Cuba and was too busy to do anything with his own brother.” Savino just knew that Alfred was pouting and making sad puppy eyes at being “abandoned” by Canada for his friends.

Savino snorted. “Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Feli’s on a date with his macho potato right now.”

Alfred giggled. “Macho potato. I always thought it was so funny when you call him that. But I’ve never really understood why.”

Because I’m jealous, Savino thought. I’m jealous of his height and his muscles, and how he got them so easily. I’m jealous of how he was born to look so macho with hardly any effort, and I’ve had to work so hard just to get where I am right now.

Savino cleared his throat and tried to shove the dysphoric thoughts away. “I don’t fucking know. He likes potatoes, and he likes to pretend he’s Mr. Macho Man. Do I need another reason?”

“Nah, that makes sense, I guess. But you can be pretty macho too. I still remember that one time on Halloween you dressed up as the Grandma from Little Red Riding Hood.” America paused, and Romano could hear him letting out a long sigh over the phone line. “You were wearing a dress, but like in a manly way? I don’t know how to explain it, but it was macho of you. Very macho.”

Dio, Alfred sounded turned on just from the memory of it. Savino remembered that costume. Spain and Belgium had both been surprised when he volunteered to dress up as the Grandma in keeping with their Little Red Riding Hood theme, and Spain had even pulled him aside to make sure he was comfortable wearing a dress, given how much it had bothered him as a child. But Romano had explained it was different this time. He was dressing up as a character, not him, and it was just that one night. Romano had worn sunglasses and toted in a gun to feel more tough and manly, and no one mistook his for a little old woman. That costume now hung in the back of his closet, behind the suit separates and shirts that were his normal, daily attire. Savino had considered finding selling the costume on eBay or donating it to an organization that took women’s clothing since he’d probably never wear it again.

But if he could make Alfred sound like that again, maybe Savino would hold onto the dress.

“Vinny? You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just drifted off for a minute there.” His hand moved through the air like he was sweeping cobwebs out of his mind.

“It’s cool. Oh! Speaking of costumes, Japan was talking about this awesome anime convention in Tokyo next month. Hopefully my boss will give me enough time off for me to go, because it sounds amazing.”

Romano smiled at America’s enthusiasm. “I hope so too.”

Alfred launched into an excited discussion of all the characters he might cosplay as at the convention if he got to go. Romano didn’t know many of them, and America was speaking so fast he couldn’t hear the names of all of them, but he listened attentively regardless.

This was nice, Romano reflected. His friendship with America was warm, safe, and comfortable. He could listen to Alfred talk about something that made him happy for hours on end. If he didn’t say anything, never brought up the real reason he had called Alfred, it could stay this way forever.

But the thing was that he would gladly listen to Alfred talk about something that made him happy for hours on end. That Alfred made him feel warm, safe, and comfortable just by being himself. He was so close to letting himself fall in love with the idiota, and there was only one thing stopping him.

Savino broke into the middle of Alfred’s sentence. “Alfredo, I need to tell you something.”

“Is it something bad? You sound really scared. Is someone hurting you? Whose ass do I have to kick?”

“No… no one is. I’m fine. This is just really hard for me to say.” It had been so difficult each time. With Spain, Veneziano, and Belgium, he didn’t have words for it, and he had to explain himself in painful, drawn out sentences that didn’t always reflect the truth he knew in his heart (like telling Belgium he had been born a girl, when he’d never really felt like one). He was afraid of being rejected by people who mattered to him, and he was afraid they might not even comprehend what he was trying to tell them. Now, Savino had words, but that didn’t make him any less scared of losing someone who mattered to him.

“What is it?” Alfred asked gently.

He took a deep breath, in and out, then bit the bullet. “I’m transgender.”

Savino tried not to panic in the stunned silence than followed. Luckily that silence only lasted a few seconds. “Oh, wow, that’s… that’s awesome!”

Romano laughed in relief. “It is?”

“Of course it is, dude! I am so proud of you, and I am so glad you felt comfortable enough to share that with me!”

Savino closed his eyes, feeling that last barrier to falling in love with Alfred giving way. “You made it easy for me to feel comfortable, caro.”

“Umm, can I ask you a question?” Alfred’s voice sounded hesitant and strained. “I promise it won’t be too weird.”

“Sure, I guess.” Savino frowned and brushed some imaginary dust off his knee. People could ask invasive questions when someone revealed they were trans, but that didn’t sound like what Alfred was planning to do.

“What kind of transgender person are you? Because I just called you dude, but only because I called you dude so many times before and didn’t know it was wrong. I’d never intentionally misgender someone right after they came out to me. That would be epically shitty of me.” Alfred seemed worried and apologetic.

“It’s okay. I’m a trans guy, so you can call me dude if you want to.”

“Thank God! For a second, I thought I’d fucked up really badly. He/him pronouns still okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What about your name, Savino? And the nicknames I give you, Vinny and Little Italy?”

Savino grinned. “Yes. And I don’t even know why you’re worried about Little Italy. That has nothing to do with my gender.”

Alfred chuckled. “I figured I should make sure, just in case.”

“I’m glad I decided to tell you today,” Romano said. “I wanted to tell you before, but I was scared. You didn’t seem like you’d have a bad reaction, but it’s a hard thing to talk about, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Alfred paused, and it felt like he was preparing to say something important. Savino waited until he was ready. “I’m uhh… queer, I guess? I’m not really sure what to call myself.”

Savino smiled sadly at the insecurity he could hear in Alfred’s voice. “That’s okay. For a long time, I didn’t know what to call myself either.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t have.” America sighed, and he sounded distressed. “It’s… fuck, I don’t even know how to explain this. For most of my life, I thought I was asexual. Well, actually, I thought I was broken and that there was something wrong with me, but I’m trying not to feel that way anymore.”

“There is nothing wrong with you.” Damn it, he wished America wasn’t on another continent so he could hug him. He could probably use a hug right now.

“But then there was this guy. This one amazing, wonderful, really special guy.” Alfred laughed softly, thinking about whatever lucky bastard he was obviously in love with, and Savino wondered who it might be. Lithuania? Japan? Prussia? South Korea? America was close to a lot of people.

Or maybe it was him. Maybe he was the lucky bastard.

“He’s the only person I’ve ever, umm, wanted that way,” America continued. “I don’t think it’s because he’s a guy, because I’m not into guys generally, and I’m not into girls either. But I do like the specific ways he is a guy, so maybe I’m gay? I don’t know.”

“That’s fine, Fredo. You don’t have to label yourself if you don’t want to.” No wonder America was so confused. He had only liked one person his entire life. That wasn’t much information to determine your sexuality on.

“I really appreciate you saying that, but I wish I could label myself. All my other friends seem to know what genders they’re into, and it feels kind of weird that I don’t.”

“Well, you seem to be fixated on this one particular person. Do you think anything would be different if the guy you told me about had been a girl instead?” Romano wanted to help America figure this out, since his uncertainty seemed to be bothering him. This was the only way Romano could think of.

America thought it over. “I guess I still don’t know,” he answered quietly. His volume was more typical of Canada than what Romano was used to from America. “When you told me you were transgender and I wasn’t sure how you were transgender, I was more worried about hurting you than if I’d still think you were hot as a girl.”

Savino teared up. He was the lucky bastard after all. “Alfredo, you…”

“Crap, I didn’t make things weird, did I?! We can totally go back and pretend I didn’t say anything. You know me, open mouth, insert foot.” Alfred laughed shakily.

“I don’t want to go back and pretend you didn’t say anything. You know what I really want, idiota? I want to kiss the hell out of you, like I’ve wanted to kiss you for years. But I’d have to get on a goddamn plane and be trapped in a tin can of death with hundreds of other passengers for several hours to make that happen.” Romano hated flying, but he was willing to consider it.

“Or I could fly to see you. I’ve got a private jet, so I wouldn’t have to waste time going through airport security.”

Romano grinned. “That works too.”

“Can I call you back in a little bit? I need to call my boss to make sure he can spare me for a few days while I fly out to see you.”

“Sure, tesoro. Talk to you soon.”

Alfred hung up the phone, and Savino set his phone down on the table in front of him. Coming out to America had gone much better than he could’ve expected. Romano was glad he didn’t have that burden on his shoulders anymore, and he was hoping America would call back in a few minutes to let him know his boss’s decision. If he couldn’t be spared for a few days and Romano’s boss wouldn’t let him go either, they would have to find some way around that. As far as Romano was concerned, he’d been waiting more than long enough as it was, and he wasn’t going to wait any longer than he had to.

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