(Baby screen-smashed delete on the original ask, excuse the janky posting)
Anonymous asked a question
Hey i get that you're trying to be a good cis writer and it IS good thst you're doing research but how you're reacting to the info is really off putting and to me insulting. Like essentially going squeeeee. It's infantilizing. We're real people not attributes you can add to fictional canonically cis cartoon characters to make them cuter. Sokka would not be "caught" doing that. (that one especially insulted me because it's not naughty. You are caught doing bad things. Euphoria is beautiful)
So let me start by saying your feelings are totally valid, so please no hate for this anon in the comments.
Let me continue by saying that people are sharing their life experiences. LOTS of people are. Which is inherently exciting because look at this beautiful community, look at these amazing people, look at these lived experiences that hurt and heal.
EXTREME EXCITEMENT is how I react to amazing things, and all y'all's input on this is indeed amazing. I'm sorry if it comes off as infantilizing, but I'm also unsure that pretending to be another dead-inside adult who doesn't find other people's experiences Astounding, Beautiful, Very Good is a thing that the world needs.
I would definitely not turn this enthusiasm on unsuspecting people, but everyone replying here has voluntarily stepped forward to do so. My general feelings on that subject is to validate the hell out of that act by showering credits into whatever novel comes of this + giving previews of how the character is shaping up based on responders' feedback. This is my version of "You have been heard and it shall be done."
And the Sokka who lives in my head, if caught doing fun and self-validating but rather private-for-him things in front of a mirror, would absolutely scream. If it had been the Suki, Toph, Jun, etc who live in my head, they would have grinned and OWNED it. That was meant as a personality-reflecting post, not a summation of the experience as had by all.
Which is sort of the problem in media, and I can absolutely see where that post could be taken wrong: there are so few queer characters of any persuasion that anything risks becoming associated with the queerness rather than the individual character. We needs more rep and more diversity of personality within that rep. We needs it muchly.
Which is very much what I'd like to do in my writing, but I can freely admit that a day-and-a-half of research does not make me any kind of expert on any kind of topic, and I apologise preemptively for any missteps I make along the way.
Also, uh. Between the fact that someone said "agender" in their comments and my brain went "wait that's an OPTION?" and the fact that I stared at the "cis" in this ask for far too long before realizing you meant me, I think it is possibly bold of either of us to assume I'm cis.
I can assure you I am absolutely Sokka-screaming right now, brain why.
I don’t know if this just bugged me cause I’m a trans guy or what but what the fuck was up with women- not even family sometimes like family friends too- talking about your chest when you were going through puberty. Why the fuck were they always talking about how big your chest is and that you “got it from your mother” or whatever? That’s weird? What?
Red is the colour of Akira’s motorcycle, of the jacket he always wears. It glows along the hilt of the dagger he keeps sheathed at his side, colours the uneven scar running down the right side of his face.
Blue swirls in the pools of Leo’s eyes. It adorns the tip of each finger, blasts hot and bright from the barrel of his gun each time he uses one slender digit to pull the trigger.
Akira had only been on a handful of missions with Leo, but of one thing he’d become absolutely certain. Much like their colours, both him and Leo were complete opposites.
When Akira ran right, Leo ran left. When Akira backed away, Leo went all in. Where he was dark, cool, and quiet, Leo was bright, warm, and vivid; as if Akira were nightfall, and Leo were daybreak.
While Leo always said that they were two sides of the same coin, to Akira, there was a reason that the sun and moon had never met.
They just weren’t supposed to.
Read the full piece below the bar, or @/sleapea on ao3 or instagram ✨
Red are the letters of the glowing, neon sign outside of the club they currently hurry out of, Leo’s fingers wrapped tight around his wrist.
Blue is the colour of the hard drive they’d taken from the back room, the very same hard drive now buried deep within Akira’s pocket.
Under the cover of darkness, fog, and neon glow, Akira is sure no one had seen them swipe it, but he also knows that it doesn’t matter. A shiver runs up his spine as the hard drive thrums from within his pocket, as if it has a heartbeat of its own. Whatever’s on this drive, it’s important, and if the higher ups hadn’t already noticed it was missing, they would soon.
As they step into the backlit street, red and blue lights greet them in the form of three suspended police crafts parked and flashing along the curb. Akira swears under his breath— or had they been expecting them from the very beginning?
That’s when he runs into Leo’s back.
Leo stands still in front of him, having stopped his pursuit entirely. “Hey, babe!” He exclaims, facing the cruisers, a smile curling his lips. “It’s our colours!”
Akira scowls, punches his partner in the back. “I told you not to call me that,” he huffs, digging into Leo’s back. He continues to push him along until Leo finally starts to move again on his own accord. “It’s like you want us to get caught,” he murmurs, earning a low chuckle from Leo. It makes Akira’s stomach do a funny little flip that he, vehemently, pretends not to notice.
He has to focus.
He takes a deep breath in, lets it out slowly. Despite the loud, distorted music emanating from the club, Akira can hear as hurried footsteps break from the crowd within and begin approaching the exit. Heavy, metal ones— ones that are getting much closer, much faster.
“Leo—” he manages, but he’s already being pulled around a corner and into the alleyway alongside the club. Leo spins to face him, expression alight with anticipation.
In the dark cover of the alley, he zeros in on the sound of their pursuers as their footsteps grow louder, louder, and as they exit the club and set foot onto the street. The entire time, he can feel Leo’s eyes on him.
“You’re hearing is crazy, Red,” he whispers, breathless, and then Akira surges forward.
They needed to get out of there, and they needed to get out of there now.
To Akira, it all happens slowly. He grabs Leo’s wrist, hard, before breaking out into a sprint down the alley, away from their pursuers. Akira’s fast, and they get a decent head start before—
“There they are!” A voice shouts from behind them, and then a bright purple blast from a military grade ray gun is whirling past him, almost grazing the tip of his ear.
“You’re my eyes,” Leo breathes, and Akira reflexively tightens the hold he has around his wrist. He nods once, and then Leo is turning to face their pursuers, gun in hand. He hears the faint click of Leo pulling the trigger, followed by the loud clank of metal against pavement, of someone dropping their weapon.
Although they’ve only been partners for a short time, Leo never slows his pace as Akira continues forward, never so much as glances behind himself to check where they’re headed. It makes him shiver despite the fact that he’s currently running, full tilt, down a dark, humid alleyway.
Blast after blast start to rain past them, no matter how many times Leo fires back. And Leo never misses.
They don’t have time for this.
“There’s too many!” Leo grunts, and Akira impulsively whirls around a corner and yanks Leo into the damp side alley along with him.
Too bad it’s a dead end.
Leo stumbles as Akira pulls, and his next blast fires off kilter. It skims the top of a surrounding building, rains dust and rock over their heads as Akira catches Leo, shoves him against the alley wall, and cages him with his arms. Akira doesn’t have to look at Leo to know that he’s grinning.
“Man, if you wanted to get close, all you had to do was—” he practically purrs.
“They went down there!” An approaching voice suddenly cuts him off, echoes down the sleek metal of the alley walls. Leo goes quiet, and Akira fixes his eyes on him. Leo simply stares, a playful smirk still toying at his lips.
“Leo!” He hisses under his breath, “Hurry!” For a moment, he looks taken aback, but then understanding washes over his features, along with a flash of something that looks a little too much like excitement.
“Damn adrenaline junkie.”
“Alright, alright,” Leo laughs, nonchalant and breathless. “It’s like I’m the one who lead us into a dead end.” Akira scowls, but all Leo does is grin as he quickly holsters his weapon, raises his right hand, and pushes the glowing blue centre of the ring wrapped around his index finger.
Akira watches intently as Leo’s reflection begins to fizzle. It blurs along the edges, and slowly, his frame begins to flicker and fade into his surroundings like a light going out. It’s Pidge and Hunk’s newest invention— a ring that’s able to cast a temporary invisibility cloak over the wearer and anyone they touch. Akira presses himself against Leo until he can feel the thudding of his heart through his jacket.
A small group arrives at the mouth of the alley just as their frames fully disappear, and Akira has to stifle his sigh of relief as they hide, stark still and camouflaged, against the alley wall. He concentrates on the way Leo’s breathing slows, becomes shallow; on the warm hands that come to grip at his waist and draw him in closer. Although they’re both so still, they’re hearts continue to run rapid and loud. It’s all Akira can hear as a group of around four or five stalk into the alley, weapons raised as they scan the slim corridor for any signs of movement.
“They went down here, I know I saw them,” one of them says, voice low and gruff.
The silence that follows is the loudest Akira’s ever heard. It’s heavy, thick with the damp night air and the weight of the searching eyes that comb over their camouflaged figures again, and again, and again. There’s a moment when the tallest of them seems to look Akira in the eyes, and he’s so sure that they can see him that all he can do for a moment is remain still, heart in his throat. Leo tenses, twitches like he might reach for his weapon, and Akira braces himself for... nothing.
Leo relaxes slightly, and Akira watches as they avert their eyes, relax their posture as if satisfied that no one’s there. He doesn’t have time to feel relieved.
“Let’s go,” the gruff one murmurs, the abrupt sound causing both him and Leo to stiffen. And then, just like that, the group is leaving to continue their search.
They both remain still until the sound of the groups’ footsteps fade into the night air. Leo makes a strangled sound, like he’s been holding his breath, and Akira looks up at him. His head is dizzy with adrenaline, heart fluttering like a caged bird in his chest as he meets Leo’s eyes. They’re wide and searching, and the sight of them makes him grin. He draws a single finger up to his mouth.
“Shh,” he breathes, and he doesn’t miss how Leo’s eyes flit momentarily to his lips, or how they linger there for just a second too long.
“Hmm,” Leo muses quietly, smiles a crooked little grin that makes the bird in his chest flap its wings. He’s reminded of the hands holding his waist as Leo loosens his grip, hands shaking like he’d been holding onto him for dear life. Absently, he begins to rub small, soothing circles against the fabric of Akira’s jeans with his thumbs, as if in silent apology. After a few moments, his chest rumbles with a laugh, low and breathy. “I think the coast is clear.”
“Yeah,” Akira sighs. They should leave, contact Hunk and Pidge and arrange for extraction before anyone else has a chance to come looking for them.
“We can… probably leave.”
“Yeah,” he repeats. They should leave, but for some reason, his body remains still.
“We should leave,” Leo whispers, and Akira thinks it’s the first reasonable thing that’s ever come out of his mouth.
He moves then, but he makes no effort to leave. Instead, he finds himself pulling closer, hands gripping at Leo’s shoulders. Drunk on adrenaline, he doesn’t think, just pushes to the tips of his toes, leans in, and presses their lips together. Leo hesitates for a moment, but it’s quick. Within seconds, he’s pushing right back into him, following his lead, again, and Akira hates to admit it but he melts. For a moment he loses himself to the rush of the adrenaline in his veins, to the warmth of the air between them as their breaths come hot and clipped, always diving in for more, more, more. This close, Leo smells like coconut and sweat and it makes him dizzy.
All at once, he realizes what he’s doing. Like a clap of lightning, the moment is bright and electrifying, but then it’s gone completely as Akira breaks their lips apart, breath heavy and eyes wide. This was Leo, his annoying, childish partner who almost got them killed on every other mission they went on. Who was obnoxious and loud and charming and exciting, and who had a funny way of making him feel alive even though he’d long forgotten what that felt like. He looks at Leo, his usual bravado completely gone from his face. He almost looked pretty like this, up close, with his face softened, lips a little red, cheeks a ruddy pink. His eyes always remind Akira of an ocean he’s never seen, and something swirls within their depths that makes his toes curl. He wonders, briefly, if he’ll drown if he looks into them for too long. He swallows then, averts his eyes.
“That is never happening again,” is what he says.
And Leo laughs, quirks a brow. Akira was the one who pulled him in, after all. The bravado returns to his features almost instantly.
“Awh, babe, come on,” he whines, voice hushed and teasing. Akira backs away, walks a few paces forward and turns away from him quickly. He tells himself it’s because he’s annoyed, that it has nothing to do with hiding the blush he can feel creeping up his neck.
“Don’t call me that,” he clips, busies himself with fishing a small communicator from his pocket and dialling Pidge.
“Or what?” By the sound of his voice, Leo’s closer to him now, practically at his back.
“Leo, I swear—”
“Are you guys okay?!” Pidge lights up his phone, voice ringing into the small earpieces they both wear. “What took you so long? Hunk and I were starting to worry.” Leo snorts, and Akira doesn’t even look up as he elbows him in the ribs.
“Nothing. Meet us at the extraction point,” is all he says before turning off his communicator and shoving it into his pocket.
This was a one time thing, he tells himself. He was simply distracted by the mission, caught up in the adrenaline of the moment. He’d had a temporary lapse in judgement— that’s all it was. That’s it. Leo was just his partner, his annoying, obnoxious new partner who he had to put up with until he found Shiro.
