Shortgrass Week 2026

FourDoubloons: honestly i would do that to my AssholeTM if i got the chance

FourDoubloons: he’s got this guy he’s always with and it would honestly be really hilarious if i started dating him just to piss AssholeTM off

FourDoubloons: his Guy is literally so hot. he’s a bit too captain america for me but he’s hot in a like, generally appealing cis guy sort of way. he’s got somethin for everybody

Smallishbeans: i know the winter soldier is more your type :3

FourDoubloons: this is lowkey an awesome idea thx beans

Smallishbeans: no prob four lmk how it works out for you

FourDoubloons: 👍

FourDoubloons: oh btw i found an incredible fic that i wanted to send you and then i opened it up… and it was x reader

Smallishbeans: 💀💀💀💀

Smallishbeans: i hATE x readers

FourDoubloons: buddy i KNOW you do!!

FourDoubloons: anyway you just posted petrichor and i IMMEDIATELY got such a strong vision of the scene where they’re packing the go bags

FourDoubloons: working on lineart right now :D

Smallishbeans: aaaaa you’re literally the best

Smallishbeans: ah fuck, i’ve got a friend gathering to get to. we’ll talk later, yeah?

FourDoubloons: o7

----

Joel tucks his phone away in his pocket. He likes talking to Four. They’ve been friends through the Final Fantasy VII fandom for a while, and they first connected because of a fic Joel wrote based around one of Four’s drawings. They started to collab and promo each other’s work, and a lot of Joel’s readers have started following Four (and vice versa). They’ve built a nice little community.

None of his friends can ever know he writes fanfiction, though. Which means he has to keep Smallishbeans very separate from Joel when he’s with his friend group. Like now, as he makes his way into the common area where they’ve agreed to meet up. He has to turn off Smallishbeans mode and just be Joel.

He waves to Etho, then takes a seat by Scott and Lizzie, who are playing Concentration. “Save Me,” says Scott.

“Another One Bites the Dust,” says Lizzie.

“Under Pressure.”

“I’m in Love With My Car.”

Joel snorts. “Are you guys doing Queen songs?”

“Bohemian Rhapsody,” Scott answers, and Joel rolls his eyes.

“Fat Bottomed Girls.”

Scott grins. “You already said that one.”

Lizzie swears, pulling her hands back. “Fine then. Are we waiting on anyone else?”

“Just Bdubs,” Etho answers, ruffling Lizzie’s hair. Lizzie leans into his hand, smiling up at him.

“Alright, love. Did he give you an ETA or—”

The door swings open. “B Double O has arrived!” announces the most annoying voice Joel has ever heard.

Okay, sure. He used to not like Scott so much, and then he got over it. But he will never, ever get over his dislike of Bdubs. They have absolutely nothing in common (except Etho) and every time they try to talk to each other, it turns into an argument. It’s impossible to be friends with him. Joel’s given up trying, if he ever really did in the first place.

“Great,” Etho says, and Joel sees the way he glances at him. Everyone knows how Joel feels about Bdubs. It’s not a secret. “Then we’re ready to hit the road. We just have to draw for sleeping arrangements.”

Joel pouts. He’d been stoutly opposed to the “draw stones for sleeping arrangements” plan, but everyone else agreed that it would minimize arguments. Probably.

Joel’s sure it’ll be fine, as long as he gets Scott. Or Lizzie, or Etho, or Oli. Most people. It’ll be fine! It’ll be fine.

Etho pulls out the bag he’s organized. It has a stone with the number of a hotel room for each of them, two to a room. One by one they pull them out. Joel pulls his: 502. Once everyone’s drawn, they start to walk around the room and compare their numbers, grouping up into their pairs.

Scott has 504. Lizzie has 515. Etho has 509.

Bdubs has 502.

“You motherfucker,” Joel mutters under his breath, standing next to Bdubs with tense shoulders.

“We’ll just ignore each other,” Bdubs answers. “It’ll be fine.” Though he doesn’t sound all that convinced.

----

The drive out is about five hours. Joel sits in the car at Lizzie’s side, staring morosely out the window at the clouds rolling above them. He’s not going to have any fun on this trip, he’s sure of it.

“Come on, Joel, it won’t be that bad,” says Lizzie. “He’s actually a pretty great guy, if you give him a chance.”

Joel sighs. “Right,” he says quietly. “I’ll just give him a chance then. I’m sure that won’t blow up in my face!”

Lizzie gives him a reproachful look before returning her gaze to the road. “You can’t do this forever,” she points out. “All the rest of us get along perfectly fine. Why do you even hate him so much?”

“He’s trying to steal Jimmy from me,” Joel answers petulantly.

(Look. He knows he’s being a bit of a brat. He’s well aware. He just… he doesn’t like how Bdubs seems to know everything about him. He doesn’t like the way Bdubs watches him, like he’s searching for something. Like he wants to wear Joel’s skin.)

Lizzie laughs. “No one’s trying to steal Jimmy,” she answers. “You’re just fine.”

Joel sighs. “Right,” he answers. “I’ll try and get along with him. Sorry, Liz.”

Her hand comes to rest on his leg. “It’s alright, Joel.” There’s something comforting in her presence. She’s good.

He decides to absorb himself in his phone again. He scrolls through tumblr, reblogging some of Four’s art as he goes. He’s got a really good new design for Reno, and he’s working on a Reno/Rude/Cloud AU with some pretty gorgeous concept art. He shoots Four a message, but gets no response. He must be busy.

The check-in at the hotel goes smoothly, but then Joel and Bdubs are left to carry their bags into their room. Joel tries to cling to that promise he made Lizzie; the problem is just that he doesn’t know how to get along with Bdubs.

He swipes the card and opens the door to let Bdubs in first. Bdubs watches him suspiciously, but steps inside, and Joel follows.

It’s a nice hotel room, certainly. Joel glances into the bathroom, which is pretty spacious for a hotel room, but freezes when Bdubs calls back to him. “Joel? We have a problem.”

Joel hesitantly steps out of the bathroom, his suitcase rolling along behind him, and he stops when he sees the bed.

Bed. Singular. Only one.

“Blummin’ heck—”

“Yeah,” Bdubs answers. “What kinda joke are they playing on us? I know that there’s two beds in some of the other rooms.”

Joel swears under his breath. “This is bullshit.” He pulls out his phone.

Joel: WHAT THE HECK

Etho: what

Joel: THERE’S ONLY ONE BLUMMIN BED IN OUR ROOM

Etho: sounds like a skill issue <3

Joel: i am going to burn your mask

Etho: i’d love to see you try

He barely stops himself from throwing his phone across the room. “Etho’s no help. Who are you texting?”

“Lizzie,” Bdubs answers gruffly from where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. “She doesn’t have much sympathy for us either.”

Joel groans. “What are we meant to blummin’ do? I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

Bdubs makes an offended noise. “I’m not sharing a freakin’ bed with you either! You’ll just have to sleep on the floor.”

Joel’s head whips around to glare at him. “Uh, like hell am I sleeping on the floor. You can sleep on the floor.”

Bdubs flops backward down onto the bed, waving his arms like he’s making a snow angel. Or a duvet angel. “Look at me, I’m already in the bed. I need my beauty sleep!”

“More than most,” Joel mutters.

“HEY!”

“I’m not sleeping on the floor,” Joel says sharply. “I’m not doing it.”

Bdubs sits up, getting right in his face to glare at him. “I’m not doing it either.”

“Then I guess we’re sharing the blummin’ bed.”

“Can you stop saying blummin’?” Bdubs demands. “And yeah, we are. Hope I don’t freak you out with my cooties.”

Joel makes a face at him. “No, I blummin’ won’t. You’re the worst.”

“Child.”

“Bitch.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Done.”

Joel grabs his phone from where he dropped it on the bed and nearly trips on his suitcase on the way out of the room. Bdubs’ laughter follows him all the way down the hall to Jimmy’s room. He bangs on the door. “Lemme in, Jim, it’s me.”

The door swings open. “Me, who?”

Joel grins at his best friend. “Don’t be a prick. C’mon. I’ve gotta complain about Bdubs.” Oh, speaking of which… he better update Four as well.

Jimmy sits and patiently listens to him complain about Bdubs for fifteen minutes before he rests his hand on Joel’s wrist. “Joel,” he says kindly. “Is there something else going on?”

Joel frowns at him, his brows furrowing. “What d’you mean?”

Jimmy sighs, looking a bit uncomfortable. “It’s just… you’re always talking about Bdubs, mate. Like you’ve got some kind of man-crush on him.”

Joel gasps, shocked at the mere accusation. “Never. He’s the most frustrating, annoying, irritating—”

“Pretty,” Jimmy intones, as if he’s heard Joel say this a thousand times.

“—Pretty, stupid piece of rubbish I’ve ever met in my life.”

“You think he’s pretty,” Gem sing-songs as she enters the room. “You have a crush on Bdubs.”

“I have not got a crush on Bdubs!” Joel yells. Birds take off outside the window.

Gem laughs, taking a seat next to him on the bed. “Say it a little louder, Joel, I don’t think they heard you in Bangladesh.”

Joel glares at her. “You’re both smelly and annoying. I’m going back to my room.”

“Have fun!” Jimmy calls after him. Joel sincerely considers punching him in the face.

----

Smallishbeans: bro save me

FourDoubloons: what’s going on?

Smallishbeans: i’m stuck in a hotel room with AssholeTM for the next three nights

Smallishbeans: AND THERE’S ONLY ONE BED

FourDoubloons: that sounds like something you’d write

Smallishbeans: it totally is, i could cleno the shit out of this

Smallishbeans: but instead it’s my life!!!!!!

Smallishbeans: i’m pissed off bro

FourDoubloons: ykw it’s weird

FourDoubloons: i’m in almost the exact same situation

----

Joel pulls up short, inches from their door.

----

Smallishbeans: you’re what now??

FourDoubloons: yeah we’re on a group outing me and my friends and of course AssholeTM came too

FourDoubloons: and we picked our room assignments randomly

FourDoubloons: and me n him got the room with only one bed

Smallishbeans: you’re.

Smallishbeans: that’s one hell of a coincidence

FourDoubloons: yep.

Smallishbeans: you’re not–

Smallishbeans: there’s no way you’re Bdubs, right?

FourDoubloons: judas priest

----

Joel swipes his card four times before the little red light turns green. He pushes the door open and walks into the room and there’s Bdubs, sitting on the bed, his phone open in front of him, and that’s…

Yep, that’s Four’s art style.

“You’re a fanartist?” Joel demands.

Bdubs stares at him. “You write fanfic?”

Joel swallows. “Er… yeah. I do. But you can’t tell Etho, or Lizzie, or– Scott, I would never live it down.”

Bdubs snorts quietly. “I won’t tell anyone. So, your Asshole Tee-Em?”

Joel sighs, leaning against the wall. “Yeah. You.”

“Ironic,” Bdubs laughs. “We were talking to each other this whole time, complaining about each other.”

“Jimmy thinks I fancy you,” Joel blurts out. He doesn’t know what possesses him to say it. It sort of just comes out.

Bdubs stares at him for a moment, unmoving. Then he says, “is he right?”

Joel wants to shake his head, to protest, to make sure everyone knows that he doesn’t fancy Bdubs. But he feels rooted to the floor, unable to say or do anything. And finally, slowly, he nods.

Bdubs uncrosses his legs, slides off the bed, and walks over to Joel. He takes Joel’s hands, uncharacteristically gentle, and leads him to the bed. Joel wants to protest, but his voice seems to have evaporated.

“You’re kind of a dick,” Bdubs says bluntly. Joel makes a face but doesn’t answer. “But I like you. You’re annoying. You don’t let me push you around. I– you’re– I wish—”

“Take your time,” Joel croaks, his voice miraculously returning. Bdubs smiles at him, and for the first time, Joel recognizes why Etho thinks he’s so cute. His smile is soft and sweet when he looks at someone he likes—when he’s not just yelling and angry.

Bdubs fiddles awkwardly with the hem of his shirt. Joel wants to reach out and take his hand. “I thought you liked Etho,” he says finally. “Or Lizzie. You spend so much time with them—”

“I thought you hated me,” Joel whispers.

Bdubs sighs. “I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t hate you either, Four,” Joel breathes. He clears his throat. “I don’t hate you, Bdubs.”

Bdubs shifts. “Joel,” he whispers. “Can I…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he leans forward just a bit. Joel feels his own breath catch, and he nods. Bdubs brings their lips together and Joel gasps into his mouth.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

====

---

From: Joel Pinto ([email protected]) To: Gemini Taylor ([email protected]) Subject: alex steve and fucking herobrine

gem i sta did you see that paper that bdubs published??? how did that ever get approved and funded

From: Gemini Taylor ([email protected]) To: Joel Pinto ([email protected]) Subject: RE: alex steve and fucking herobrine

Joel, I’m not gossiping about our coworkers off the clock. It’s actually a really good paper, Bdubs has been working on it for a few months. If you actually read it, you might learn something.

Gem Taylor (she/her/hers) “If service is below you, leadership is beyond you.”

From: Joel Pinto ([email protected]) To: Gemini Taylor ([email protected]) Subject: RE: RE: alex steve and fucking herobrine

i don’t see the purpose of reading something so banal and stupid. sausage was NOT autistic and trying to analyse his works as if he was competely ignores the deeper themes and meanings in his paintings.

From: Gemini Taylor ([email protected]) To: Joel Pinto ([email protected]) Subject: RE: RE: RE: alex steve and fucking herobrine

The point of the paper isn’t whether he was or wasn’t autistic. It’s a conversation about art and symbolism through a particular lens. You’ve written like five hundred papers like that. Have you forgotten Poppies and Lilacs: An Anonymous Queer Love Story by Pinto & Taylor? We published that like eighteen months ago. It’s the exact same paper, but with gay instead of autism. What’s the difference? I think you just hate Bdubs.

Gem Taylor (she/her/hers) “If service is below you, leadership is beyond you.”

From: Gemini Taylor ([email protected]) To: Pearl Lunaria ([email protected]) Subject: FW: RE: RE: RE: alex steve and fucking herobrine

He’s going to make me give myself an undercut, fake my death, change my name, and move to Barbados.

Gem Taylor (she/her/hers) “If service is below you, leadership is beyond you.”

From: Pearl Lunaria ([email protected]) To: Gemini Taylor ([email protected]) Subject: RE: FW: RE: RE: RE: alex steve and fucking herobrine

At least he’s learning to use his personal email instead of his work one.

Many thanks, Dr. Pearl Lunaria (she/ve/moon)

---

dubble bubble: congratulations man, it’s a big milestone

juicy fruit: yeah i guess so

juicy fruit: finally got tenure! been working toward it for like fifteen years

dubble bubble: i’m proud of you joel :)

juicy fruit: thx bdubs

juicy fruit: btw ur paper is trash and so are you <3

dubble bubble: i’ll smash ur face in with an axe <3

dubble bubble: do you wanna go out with etho tonight? we’ll buy you a few drinks

juicy fruit: sure. but you’re not allowed to take videos of me this time

dubble bubble: no promises

dubble bubble: but i won’t share them in the groupchat

dubble bubble: i’ll just send them to gem and jimmy privately

juicy fruit: someday i’m going to murder you and i won’t feel bad about it >:3

dubble bubble: i know, dude

---

To: Joel Pinto ([email protected]) From: Avid Potter ([email protected]) Subject: Week 4 Analysis Assignment

Hello, Professor Pinto!

Just wondering if I could get some extra guidance on the analysis assignment we’re supposed to be doing next week. Most of the names on the list I understand, but isn’t Booker Octavio still alive? I’m pretty sure my friend Shelby had him for this class last quarter. I just don’t quite get why we would be analyzing his work when all the other names are people who are very dead.

Thanks, Avid Potter

To: Avid Potter ([email protected]) From: Joel Pinto ([email protected]) Subject: RE: Week 4 Analysis Assignment

That’s a great question, Avid. Octavio’s a very influential artist, but he’s also an interesting historian. If you wanted to look at his work, I’d be interested in your thoughts on his various analyses. He recently published a paper claiming that M. Sausage was autistic, and it would be fascinating to me to read my students’ thoughts on such a claim.

If you need a starting point for where to look, I can shoot you a few links. You’re also welcome to pick someone else off the list.

Joel Pinto, PhD – He/Him Professor of Art History Boatem University School of Fine Arts [email protected]

---

pretty princess gem: don’t you think joel’s obsession with bdubs is getting a little… creepy?

loyal knight pearl: honestly im starting to think he’s just got a crush

beloved queen scott: if joel has a crush on bdubs i will laugh so hard

beloved queen scott: that would actually be worse than when he had a crush on me

evil advisor cleo: oh god remember that

evil advisor cleo: genuinely one of the most painful things i’ve ever witnessed

beloved queen scott: to be fair we would be one hell of a power couple

loyal knight pearl: there’s an alternate universe where the two of you end up together and become fascist dictators

pretty princess gem: yeah but let’s keep on this universe for now yeah?

pretty princess gem: joel and bdubs. they totally have feelings for each other

beloved queen scott: yeah but neither of them would ever do anything about it because they’re both too weird about etho

pretty princess gem: polyamory

pretty princess gem: there i’ve solved the problem

loyal knight pearl: if you’re not careful word will get out that you’re matchmaking the art history department

pretty princess gem: technically etho works in the engineering department

beloved queen scott: etho’s everywhere. you learn not to question it. he kind of does everything

---

From: Booker Octavio ([email protected]) To: Joel Pinto ([email protected]) Subject: Did you assign your students to analyze my paper???

Joel, what in the world is going on? Over the weekend I got like seven emails from one of your students about my autism paper. What the heck man?

Professor Booker O. Octavio, PhD He/Him College of the Sciences | Boatem University 772-490-2237 | [email protected]

From: Joel Pinto ([email protected]) To: Booker Octavio ([email protected]) Subject: RE: Did you assign your students to analyze my paper???

Wait who emailed you?? Why did they email you??? They’re meant to email me, i’m their professor

Joel Pinto, PhD – He/Him Professor of Art History Boatem University School of Fine Arts [email protected]

From: Booker Octavio ([email protected]) To: Joel Pinto ([email protected]) Subject: RE: RE: Did you assign your students to analyze my paper???

A kid named Avid. He asked me what inspired me to write the paper, where all my research came from, and then asked if he could interview me about it. WHY are you assigning my work to your AH335 students???

Professor Booker O. Octavio, PhD He/Him College of the Sciences | Boatem University 772-490-2237 | [email protected]

From: Joel Pinto ([email protected]) To: Booker Octavio ([email protected]) Subject: RE: RE: RE: Did you assign your students to analyze my paper???

Cuz it’s funny. Obviously.

Joel Pinto, PhD – He/Him Professor of Art History Boatem University School of Fine Arts [email protected]

---

TinFoilChef Journal of Art History 17 (2025)

Reply to “Rainbow Infinity: An Autistic Reading of M. Sausage’s Works”

Joel Pinto, Etho T. Slab, Ren Wolfhard, Bernard B. Statz, and Mumbo J. Statz

October 23, 2025

Abstract

Octavio, B. O. and colleagues published a paper claiming that M. Sausage had autism spectrum disorder, an opinion with which the authors of this paper manifestly disagree. We will reply to each of the points that Octavio and colleagues presented, presenting our own thoughts on their interpretation. We found that there are several other potential interpretations than the autistic reading, and there is not sufficient basis for this claim.

Corresponding author: B. B. Statz ([email protected])

---

dubble bubble: oh nice

dubble bubble: make fun of bdubs cause he double majored

juicy fruit: listen mate i just don’t think there’s any substantial backing for your assertion that sausage was autistic

dubble bubble: yeah but YOU WROTE AN ENTIRE-ASS PAPER ABOUT IT

dubble bubble: like????

dubble bubble: WAIT ETHO HELPED YOU WITH IT

dubble bubble: HE’S THE SECOND AUTHOR ARE YOU KIDDING ME

dubble bubble: BETRAYAL!!!! im gonna kill that backstabbing judas iscariot sonofabitch

juicy fruit: lol ur cute

dubble bubble: im cute??

dubble bubble: the hell does that mean?

---

From: Gemini Taylor ([email protected]) To: Joel Pinto ([email protected]); Pearl Lunaria ([email protected]) Subject: Bdubs is going to Kill you

Joel,

I hope you know that I will not speak at your funeral. I will, however, use your life insurance to cater, and we will have spinach ravioli while we laugh at the way you brought about your own demise.

Prof. Gemini Taylor (she/her/hers) Boatem University College of Fine Arts “If service is below you, leadership is beyond you.” [email protected] – 772-841-2833

From: Pearl Lunaria ([email protected]) To: Joel Pinto ([email protected]); Gemini Taylor ([email protected]) Subject: RE: Bdubs is going to Kill you

Don’t worry mate, I’ll sub in for Gem as your sister. I’ll try and come up with something nice to say, other than “he was an idiot.”

Pearl Lunaria, PhD (she/ve/moon) Associate Professor of Graphic Design Boatem University School of Fine Arts [email protected]

From: Joel Pinto ([email protected]) To: Gemini Taylor ([email protected]); Pearl Lunaria ([email protected]) Subject: RE: RE: Bdubs is going to Kill you

Thanks guys. Feeling really supported right now.

Why does everyone think it’s fine when Bdubs says random shit he can’t back up, but when I knock him down a peg I’m a moron?

Joel Pinto, PhD – He/Him Professor of Art History Boatem University School of Fine Arts [email protected]

From: Gemini Taylor ([email protected]) To: Joel Pinto ([email protected]); Pearl Lunaria ([email protected]) Subject: RE: RE: RE: Bdubs is going to Kill you

Because Bdubs is generally a nice guy, and you’re a spineless taint-licking dickwad. You’re honestly insane for writing that paper, Joel, I commend you. I’ll at least try to miss you when Bdubs blasts you into a scorch mark on the floor.

Prof. Gemini Taylor (she/her/hers) Boatem University College of Fine Arts “If service is below you, leadership is beyond you.” [email protected] – 772-841-2833

From: Pearl Lunaria ([email protected]) To: Joel Pinto ([email protected]); Gemini Taylor ([email protected]) Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Bdubs is going to Kill you

Gem, I love you very much, and I would like you to not get fired for the shit you put on your work email.

Pearl Lunaria, PhD (she/ve/moon) Associate Professor of Graphic Design Boatem University School of Fine Arts [email protected]

---

dubble bubble: joel??

dubble bubble: what does ‘ur cute’ mean??????

---

Bubble Wrap Menace: etho help

Bubble Wrap Menace: sos

Bubble Wrap Menace: this is not a drill

Bubble Wrap Menace: i think im having a heart attack

[Bubble Wrap Menace started a call that lasted a few seconds]

Bubble Wrap Menace: YOU ASSHOLE I KNOW YOU’RE NOT ASLEEP

[Bubble Wrap Menace started a call that lasted a few seconds]

Rocks (evil): bdubs it is eight am

Rocks (evil): you can’t wait until i’ve had my coffee

Bubble Wrap Menace: you have two minutes

Rocks (evil): christ okay

Rocks (evil): okay what’s up. sos? someone died? measles outbreak on campus? you cut your finger off?

Bubble Wrap Menace: i think im in love with joel

Rocks (evil): …

Rocks (evil): i’m going back to bed

Bubble Wrap Menace: if you ditch me i’m leaking that video of you throwing up glitter at mardi gras junior year of undergrad

Rocks (evil): wow you’re serious about this

Rocks (evil): okay. so you’re in love with joel. what am i supposed to do about it?

Bubble Wrap Menace: TELL ME NOT TO BE

Rocks (evil): stop being in love with joel

Rocks (evil): did that work?

Bubble Wrap Menace: …no

Rocks (evil): cool. how exactly did you think this would help you?

Bubble Wrap Menace: man idk i’m panicking

Bubble Wrap Menace: he wrote an entire paper basically calling me an idiot who doesn’t know what he’s talking about in academia-speak and i still kinda want to kiss him

Bubble Wrap Menace: btw don’t think i didn’t notice your name on that paper you sick double agent

Rocks (evil): listen dubs. i do what i want. if i want to attach my name to two papers that are in direct conflict with each other, i will. who cares?

Rocks (evil): for the record, if you were worried about me having feelings for joel, i don’t. trust me.

Rocks (evil): i’m not really into the whole dating and marriage thing

Rocks (evil): and even if i was, i wouldn’t touch a walking disaster like joel with a ten foot pole

Bubble Wrap Menace: HEY

Bubble Wrap Menace: i need to calm down

Bubble Wrap Menace: i want. i need. he’s.

Bubble Wrap Menace: etho i’m gonna explode

Bubble Wrap Menace: hlep

Rocks (evil): i still don’t know what you want me to do

Rocks (evil): cause i only see one way out of this for you

Bubble Wrap Menace: burn off my fingerprints and disappear into the night with nothing but the clothes on my back to build a new life in patagonia?

Rocks (evil): you could never get a work visa

Rocks (evil): tell him, dumbass

Bubble Wrap Menace: …you’re no help i’m asking scar

Rocks (evil): you’re going to scar over me???

Rocks (evil): he will not help you

---

From: Avid Potter ([email protected]) To: Shelby Grace ([email protected]) Subject: prof pinto & prof octavio

Hey, you had Professor Octavio last quarter for AH 335 right? Did he ever talk about Professor Pinto?

Thanks, Avid Potter

From: Shelby Grace ([email protected]) To: Avid Potter ([email protected]) Subject: RE: prof pinto & prof octavio

Yeah, he talks about Professor Pinto like, a weird amount. Almost as much as he talks about his friend from the Engineering department. He has a lot of random unprofessional tangents LMAO.

Best, Shelby Grace (she/they)

From: Avid Potter ([email protected]) To: Shelby Grace ([email protected]) Subject: RE: RE: prof pinto & prof octavio

They’re kind of obsessed with each other. Do you think they’re like. In love?

Thanks, Avid Potter

From: Shelby Grace ([email protected]) To: Avid Potter ([email protected]) Subject: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh my god you’re totally right. They’re absolutely in love. But they definitely don’t realize they are, so we’ve gotta like. Help them. Right?

Best, Shelby Grace (she/they)

---

---

Booker Orion Octavio: soooooo. hypothetically. if you had feelings for your coworker. what would you do about it.

Scar Goodman: arson

Booker Orion Octavio: yeah but you always want to do arson

Booker Orion Octavio: what would you do that wasn’t that

Scar Goodman: arson at the intersection of numbered streets that aligned with the crossword puzzle to spell out their name

Booker Orion Octavio: you are… such a freak

Scar Goodman: oh! i know! paper airplanes

Scar Goodman: write cheesy poems on them and then throw them at the other person

Booker Orion Octavio: no one in this fucking school is any help to me

Scar Goodman: idk man what’s the right answer?

Booker Orion Octavio: …the what now

Scar Goodman: you said it’s some kind of hypothetical brain teaser. obviously i’m getting it wrong so

Booker Orion Octavio: no, scar, it’s not a hypothetical

Scar Goodman: wait!! who’s caught your eye you sly minx you

Booker Orion Octavio: NONE OF UR BUSINESS

Booker Orion Octavio: I just need an answer for how to make the feelings go away quickly so i don’t have to talk about them

Scar Goodman: yeah, no can do. you’ll just have to tell em

Booker Orion Octavio: fuck.

---

just a short king: i’ve been getting these weird ass notes in my classroom for like a month

just a short king: [attachment: 5 images]

pathetic wet cat: you’ve been getting creepy anonymous notes?

just a short king: come on pearl they’re not…

just a short king: yeah they’re pretty creepy

gorgeous + perfect: you’re not going to meet up with them right?

just a short king: no listen—

pathetic wet cat: he’s totally gonna go

just a short king: i didn’t say that!!

gorgeous + perfect: joel you are gonna get MURDERED.

gorgeous + perfect: m to the u to the rdered

just a short king: okay calm down gem, i’m not gonna get blummin murdered

just a short king: it’s most likely a student and i need to let them down gently

pathetic wet cat: he just can’t handle being called a coward

just a short king: your commentary is not necessary

just a short king: why don’t you stuff it

pathetic wet cat: >:3

gorgeous + perfect: JOEL

gorgeous + perfect: you’re really gonna meet an anonymous stranger on the football field after the fucking campus closes AFTER THE SUN GOES DOWN IN NOVEMBER????

just a short king: well when you say it like that it sounds like a blummin awful idea

gorgeous + perfect: BECAUSE IT IS

pathetic wet cat: you know she’s right joel

just a short king: ykw the more you tell me not to the more i kinda wanna do it

gorgeous + perfect: cool. i’ll get started on your obit

---

juicy fruit: …

dubble bubble: …

juicy fruit: so.

dubble bubble: yep.

juicy fruit: so our students think we’re–

dubble bubble: gay for each ohter yeah

juicy fruit: are you gay for me?

dubble bubble: NO ARE YOU GAY FOR ME

juicy fruit: uh. no. definitely not

dubble bubble: cool then.

juicy fruit: yep.

dubble bubble: …hypothetically though.

juicy fruit: oh god

dubble bubble: if i did have feelings for you

dubble bubble: what would you. do. about that

juicy fruit: i dunno mate

juicy fruit: i’m tired and my head hurts and i’m stressed out of my mind and my best friend has barely been talking to me for like two weeks

dubble bubble: i’ll fight em

juicy fruit: gonna be hard

dubble bubble: why?

juicy fruit: cause it’ll hurt you a lot

dubble bubble: no it won’t i’m strong!!

dubble bubble: wait.

dubble bubble: im ur best friend

juicy fruit: yeah

juicy fruit: i just want you back. whatever that means

juicy fruit: i like you, bdubs

dubble bubble: i like you too joel

juicy fruit: cool. then how bout we go on a date next weekend and right now we both get some sleep

dubble bubble: agreed

dubble bubble: hey i’ve got a question

juicy fruit: bdubs it’s 2am

juicy fruit: aren’t you typically snork mimimi right now?

dubble bubble: woke up

dubble bubble: you keep telling people that sausage wasn’t autistic

dubble bubble: you wrote a Whole Paper about why you think that

dubble bubble: WITH ETHO.

dubble bubble: why do you care so much?

juicy fruit: i mean there’s not like anything wrong with being autistic i just dont think your evidence holds up

dubble bubble: come on that’s bull and you know it

juicy fruit: well it doesn’t!! all the stuff you said in that paper it’s like

juicy fruit: those aren’t autistic things. everyone’s like that

juicy fruit: i’m like that

juicy fruit: bdubs?

dubble bubble: not everyone’s like that

dubble bubble: my dad wasn’t like that at all

dubble bubble: he always played the neurotypical game really well. he didn’t have sensory issues. he had a lot of interests in a lot of things. he got social cues, he had no issues with ambiguity or his routine breaking. he was adaptable

dubble bubble: a key feature of autism is being rigid. it’s really hard for us to let go of the things we expect out of a person or a situation

dubble bubble: have you ever considered that you might just be autistic?

juicy fruit: tbh no i never considered that

dubble bubble: well you might look into it

juicy fruit: hey bdubs?

dubble bubble: yeah?

juicy fruit: would you like to come help me learn about this stuff as our first date?

dubble bubble: course :)

---

TinFoilChef Journal of Art History 20 (2026)

Autistic Readers’ Self-Perception and Self-Realization Through Literature

Joel Pinto & Booker O. Octavio

May 13, 2026

Abstract

In a collaborative effort between the Boatem University Colleges of Fine Arts and Sciences, psychology professor B. O. Octavio, bringing a unique perspective as someone with a Doctorate in Psychology and a Bachelor of Arts in Art and Design and who lives with autism spectrum disorder, and art history professor Joel Pinto, who has recently uncovered his autism, conducted a survey of 472 Boatem University students who self-identify as having autism. We found that more than 85% of them reported that hearing autistic stories, whether they were autobiographical narratives, fictional depictions, or poetry, helped them to recognize, understand, and come to terms with their autistic identity. Further research is needed to fully uncover the link between autistic self-identity and narrative media.

Note: Pinto, J. and Octavio, B. O. contributed equally to this work and share first authorship.

Bdubs stares at Joel. Joel stares at Bdubs. The rest of the room is silent around them.

Then Bdubs quirks his lips into a smile. “Well, pretty boy, are you gonna kiss me or not?”

“How about not,” Joel answers in a monotone, crossing his arms. “Don’t think you could pay me enough.”

Bdubs scoffs in disbelief. “Please, I’m an excellent kisser.”

“And yet I don’t want to kiss you,” Joel shoots back. “Is that such a shocker?”

Etho pipes up, because Etho can never keep his mouth shut. “You know, if you’re not gonna kiss him, you’ll have to do something else.”

Bdubs turns to look at him. “And what's that?” he asks.

Etho’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

Something in Bdubs’ chest flutters at that thought. They’re in Etho’s house, and Bdubs knows that Etho has a little coat closet where they’ll surely be shoved. The idea of that close proximity with Joel, face to face. It’s thrilling. Part of him hopes Joel won’t balk at the thought and will hold firm, just to see where it will go.

“Pfft,” says Joel. “I can manage that.”

Etho grins, hopping to his feet and ushering Bdubs and Joel to the closet, exactly as Bdubs expected, and they stand there staring out at him. “Seven minutes,” he reminds them. “Gimme your phones.”

Reluctantly, they hand them over, and the door latches quietly, casting them into darkness. The coat closet is quiet for a moment before Joel speaks.

“This is dumb.”

Bdubs sighs. “Mhm.”

“You suck.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re annoying.”

“I get it, ya don’t like me.”

Joel huffs. “I didn’t say I don’t like you. I just don’t want to kiss you.”

Bdubs wishes he could see him, to read in his eyes what he’s thinking. He tries to envision Joel, his fading green streak, his air of arrogance, his jaw set hard against his feelings. He’s sure he's not doing it justice in his mind; Joel has this quality to him that Bdubs can’t describe. He’s almost angelic, or would be if Bdubs believed in that sort of thing.

“You got a reason?” he wonders, trying not to be aggressive. The aggression can be fun, but Bdubs doesn’t want a fight to break out in here. They’d just hurt themselves.

Something bumps him in the dark. He thinks it might be Joel’s elbow. “I’m not gay,” says Joel quietly, like he’s questioning himself. Or Bdubs is reading too much into it, that’s a possibility as well.

Bdubs suppresses the laughter that threatens to bubble in his chest. “You're not gay,” he repeats, unable to mask his disbelief. “I got news for ya, buddy, straight guys don't look at me like that.”

An affronted noise echoes in the darkness. “Look at you like what?”

“Like they want to spread me out on their bedsheets and devour me like a three-course meal,” Bdubs answers, amused. If he’s honest, it never once occurred to him that Joel didn’t know what he was doing. That he didn’t realize their whole game was one long act of foreplay.

Joel’s quiet. Quieter than Bdubs might have ever heard him, quiet enough that Bdubs can hear his breathing. Can feel it on his collarbone. They’re so close. My, this closet’s warm.

Bdubs entertains the idea of apologizing, but he can’t wrap his tongue around the words. They taste like bitter medicine. He went too far, but he can’t bring himself to regret it.

“I’m not gay,” Joel says again, more hesitantly this time.

Bdubs closes his eyes. He’s not equipped to be a baby gay’s awakening. He shouldn’t have put himself in this situation. “Okay,” he manages. “Then keep being not gay. Honestly, it doesn't affect me much either way.” (He tries to will that to be true.) “I’ll still be gay when you change your mind.”

He lifts his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and feels the back of his knuckles graze Joel’s cheekbones. He can feel what he looks like. He's stupid hot. Someday Bdubs is going to rearrange his pretty face.

(He says that, but deep down, he knows that he’d be far too sad if Joel stopped looking this good.)

“Don’t touch me,” Joel mutters. Bdubs sighs through his nose.

“Didn't do it on purpose. What are you gonna do about it if you're too much of a coward to kiss me?”

Joel growls. “I’m not a coward.”

Bdubs leans into his space. “Prove it.”

The door swings open. Seven minutes already?

Bdubs straightens himself out. “Alright then. I’ll be around if you ever want that kiss.”

As he’s driving home, he realizes he forgot to ask what prompted Joel to participate in Spin the Bottle in the first place if he didn't want to kiss a guy.

The sky is long dark when the knock comes. Bdubs is just preparing for bed, and it startles him a bit. At least he’s not already asleep, because he would not answer even if it woke him up.

He opens the door and is greeted by Joel, shifting nervously on his front step. Immediately, he’s hit with the thought that he was right; he can’t imagine Joel properly. His mind could never capture all the wholeness and reality of him.

“Were you serious?” Joel asks. “When you said…” He trails off, and Bdubs fills in for him.

“That you could kiss me if you wanted to try?”

Wordlessly, Joel nods.

“Yeah, Joel. I was serious.”

Joel takes a step forward. Bdubs’ breath quickens. Is it really going to happen?

Joel reaches out awkwardly, then hesitates, like he doesn’t know where to put his hands. Bdubs laughs patiently, taking his hands and pulling him inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

He grabs Joel’s wrists and sets his hands on Bdubs’ waist. His hands rest on Joel’s jaw, and he grins at him. “Gonna back out on me now?”

Joel licks his lips—a nervous tic, surely— and shakes his head. “Never.”

“Good.”

booty jorts — I’m on my way I’m just merging onto I five right now will you fucking get out of my way you Cybertruck moron I hope your car blows up with you inside anyway I have ice cream and a movie let me know if you need anything else send I said send will you please

Jayla manages a wet laugh. (She’s not crying. She doesn’t cry.) Beth always uses voice-to-text when she’s driving, which never picks up on punctuation. Jayla can read the interjection in the middle, directed at some nameless Cybertruck owner, in her voice. She was probably yelling it. She always had terrible road rage.

Let me know if you need anything else, she’d said. It’s a long shot, but there is one thing that might help.

With shaking hands, Jayla presses the little call button next to Beth’s name. Beth answers midway through the second ring.

“—sus fucking Christ, are you people insane?” she’s yelling through the phone. “Sorry Jayjay, I’m here. No one knows how to drive today. You need anything?”

Jayla swallows hard. “Hair dye?” she croaks. “Just thought– nevermind, it was a dumb thought anyway. Ignore me, it’s fine.”

“Nah, what’s up? Hair dye, you said? I’ve got some green in my bathroom somewhere. Might not be enough to do your whole head, you’ve got a lot of hair, but I could give ya a streak!”

That’s her Beth. Or– not her Beth, like, they’re not like, an item or anything, and Beth doesn’t belong to Jay, she’s just– whatever. Point is, Beth’s always figuring out a way to put a positive spin on things. Except when it comes to Etho.

Jay sighs. “Yeah, sure. A streak sounds great.”

She can hear Beth’s smile through the crackle of static; Beth must be going through the rough part of the Corridor where the service is spotty. “Alright, see you soon! I just gotta stop at home and then I’ll be on my way. Love ya to death!”

Beth hangs up before Jay can respond. Probably for the best; she never knows what to say when Beth tells her that. She never knows how to answer without betraying the emotion that quivers in her chest, viscous and sweet like molasses and so, so raw where it intersects with the knowledge that no one, not even her best friend Beth, will ever love her as the woman she so desperately wants to be.

She tries not to work herself up into a fit before Beth arrives. Beth likes to see her fits. Jokes aside, she doesn’t want to ruin their evening together by being a bit of a mess. She’s not sure exactly how successful she is, though, because by the time she hears tyres on the driveway, her eyes feel hot and pricking with tears. She stares at her reflection in the mirror for one more moment, as if memorizing everything that’s wrong with her face, before she turns to let Beth into the house.

Beth knows something’s wrong immediately. Jay can tell she does, because she stares at her just a few seconds longer than she normally would. It’s long enough that Jay considers putting on her sunglasses, even though that’s ridiculous. They’re inside, and they would get in the way of the hair dyeing. (She assumes. She doesn’t actually know much about it.)

But then Beth shoulders her bag and starts to make her way into the bathroom. Jayla stares after until she turns back around. “Are ya coming?” she demands, and Jay nods, jumping into action to scramble after her.

Beth sets down the bag on the floor and seats Jay on the toilet lid. “You gotta chill,” she says casually. “I’m good at this, but not good enough to not stain your clothes if you’re jerkin’ your head around. Got it?”

Jay looks up at her. She’s not tall by any means, but seated like this, her tits are right in Jayla’s face, and… oh, god. She can’t let that thought go off. She can’t open the door of what if because she’ll just be setting herself up for disappointment. She’s been zip tying that door shut, barring it with chairs and boxes made of denial because if she lets that train leave the station, it’ll hit terminal velocity in minutes and she’ll be off the rails. And now she’s mixing her metaphors, because proximity to boobs kind of does that to her brain.

Beth’s fingers twist in Jay’s hair and tip her head back. “Got it?” she repeats, and Jay realizes she hasn’t answered. Though honestly, the hair pulling isn’t really helping.

Jay swallows. “Uh– er– yes. Mhm.”

Beth releases her, then takes a step back, looking down at her. “How attached are you to that shirt?”

Jay glances down at it. It’s not her favourite, but it’s not technically hers. “It’s my mum’s,” she manages. “She’d probably be mad if she didn’t get it back.”

Beth nods. “Cool. Take it off.”

Handbrakes squeal in Jay’s head. “Wait– you want me to do what?”

Beth puts her hands on her hips and Jayla tries to tell herself not to get distracted again. (It’s just that Beth is so pretty, stout and a little chubby, endearing and sweet and perfectly shaped, and Jay l—)

“Take your frickin’ shirt off!” Beth repeats, clearly irritated. “I thought you wanted to dye your hair. Is every single step of this gonna be a fight?”

Chastened, Jay ducks her head. “Sorry, B,” she mumbles, lifting her hands to unbutton the top and shrug it off, leaving her in just her trousers and bra. She can’t meet Beth’s eyes as she does, but Beth says nothing, just starting to part her hair and comb through it.

“Alright– jeeze, could you frickin’ stay still?” Beth requests as Jay lifts her head. Instinctually, Jay freezes and Beth sighs. “Thank you.”

They lapse into mildly uncomfortable silence as Beth starts to squeeze some kind of cool gel into her freshly gloved hand and spread it onto Jay’s hair with a brush. Jay tries not to fidget. Beth asked her to keep still.

Her mind drifts, inevitably, to Beth. Beth cares about her. Beth is her friend. But that doesn’t mean Beth wants the same things that Jayla wants, that she feels the same things. That is, if she even recognizes Jayla as a woman.

Jay should ask. She should say something. But every time she tries, the words stick in her throat. Every part of this is so hard. She just wants one thing to be easy and achievable.

In the end, it’s Beth who asks.

“So, you gonna tell me what you were cryin’ about?”

If it were Etho, or Jamie, or god forbid Scott, Jay would think they were making fun of her. But with Beth it’s just… she noticed. And she didn’t say anything earlier because she didn’t think it was the right time.

The tears make a reappearance, but Jay feels a little more secure this time. “Just… gender stuff. Not a big deal.”

Beth puts a clip in her hair and steps back to meet her eyes. “It’s a big deal if it makes you cry.”

Jayla wipes at her eye absentmindedly. “I just… I want to be loved.” She laughs awkwardly. How embarrassing is that? Someday she’ll surely succeed in killing the part of her that desires connection and affection. It hasn’t worked yet, but someday. “But I want to be loved as myself. I don’t want everyone to think of me as Joel forever, as a boy cosplaying a girl, as a pervert in womanface. I want to be one of the girls.”

The tears flow freely now, and Jay sniffles, turning her face away as she finishes. She doesn’t want to see Beth’s face, whether it’s amusement or scorn or pity that graces her gorgeous features. She doesn’t want to know.

But Beth crouches to be on Jay’s level. “How ‘bout we do your nails, too?”

Jayla blinks, trying to comprehend. “We… huh?”

Beth reaches into her bag and pulls out a plastic organizer full of fake nails and a little bottle of nail glue. “Make you look all pretty.”

Jay swallows, searching her face for any sign of insincerity. “Are you sure? That’s your stuff.”

The ghost of a smile appears on Beth’s lips. “Brought it for you. C’mon.” She reaches for one of Jayla’s hands, and Jay lets her, just staring as she pulls nails out of the plastic to compare them to Jay’s fingertips until she has the ones she wants. She starts to glue them on, humming quietly to herself. Then she holds up nail polish for Jay to examine. “What color?”

Jay flexes her hand, examining her fingers, which look considerably more graceful and feminine with the fake nails. She glances at Beth’s too, which match hers and are painted in the lesbian flag colors. Jay licks her lips. “Could I do… the trans flag?”

Beth grins, and it knocks the wind out of Jay’s chest. Something comes loose inside her, the zip tie holding the door shut. It comes clean off its hinges and everything floods her all at once.

“Beth,” she whispers. Beth looks up from where she’s digging in her bag for white nail polish.

“Yeah?”

“You’re… a great friend.” It’s not what she wants to say, but it’s close enough, she guesses. The fear overpowers her in the last second and she doesn’t manage to get the words out.

Beth smiles a little sadly. “Jay, would I be doing all this if I didn’t love you? Would I offer my own supplies from home if I didn’t love you? You’re my girl as much as Etho is. You’re already loved.”

Jay bites her tongue. If she opens her mouth she’s gonna say something really dumb. She just nods, and Beth looks… almost disappointed.

“Thanks,” Jay manages without sounding like an idiot. Beth squeezes her shoulder.