#also very often foster kids are just made to Do Stuff so that’s my excuse for him. boy got shoved into a ballet class

[noxexistant]

it’s so not feasible in literally any universe but the concept of morris doing ballet still possesses me body and soul

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Can you do a list of Mic being pure w/ his favorite student, (y/n) (like, he’s not afraid to show it), but she’s living with her friend and their family since she’s alone in Japan, and trying to keep it a secret. But when he finds out he’s just “ASDFGHJKLWHAT”, and he’s trying to help her with so many things, which soon evolves to “custody of child—”.

https://dontbesoweirdkira.tumblr.com/post/189518600672/hey-its-me-again-i-hope-you-are-still-open-for

A/N: I first would like to say I ALSO HAVE EATEN A NUCLEAR REACTOR...it tasted like radiation and strawberries yummy!  Here’s your soft present mic X student. I hope you enjoy.  

(I kind of made it where you aren’t fully living with your friend. Just bouncing from the streets to her house every so often if that makes sense??)Requests open

-So at first Mic didn’t notice anything was up...well no he did but he kind of brushed it off since he didn’t want to cross any boundaries.

-Like when he asked for your parents signature but they were always somehow “out of town” or “working overtime” 

-Or when he was going to offer you a ride home since it was pretty late but you just insisted to walk by yourself. And how you didn’t bother to call them and let them know you were going to be home a bit later than usual. 

-He was always curious but like i said he didn’t want to cross a boundary and make you feel uncomfortable about something so personal. Besides how would he bring it up?

-”Hey Y/N, Why do you always conveniently “forget” to fill out your home address on forms?” 

-Yeah see his dilemma?^ And like what if it was nothing and it really was just a convenience.  It seemed better to leave it alone and not worry. You’d tell him if something was going on, right?

-Maybe one day you’re talking to your friend and He’s just around the corner so he overhears the conversation.

-”Hey Y/N, my family is going out of town for a few weeks. I- i would ask if you could come with so you’ll have some place to stay but we are going out of the county and you know how that is..”

-”Oh..um..Don’t worry, I'll figure something out.”

-”Are you sure? I- i can always leave the house key so you can have somewhere safe to go? But uhm, My cousin might come over every so often to watch a game or to check the house so be alert and make sure he doesn’t see you.” 

-”N-No it’s okay, seriously. I’ll find somewhere to go, thank you though. ”

-”Well, I'll leave the key under the doormat if you change your mind, we’re leaving in the afternoon tomorrow so after then the place will be yours for a bit.I’ll text you later, ‘kay?”

-He’s shocked?? Like he thought maybe your at home life wasn’t good or maybe you were embarrassed about living in a low income place, but you were homeless?? And you’ve been staying with your friends every so often?? Why didn’t you tell him? Did you not feel comfortable? He’s in this weird state of shock and acknowledgement.

-For the rest of the school day hE Is cOnTemPlaTiNg oN WhaT tO Do. He’s not sure how he should bring it up or even if he should bring it up. 

- *is casually being torn apart internally as he’s trying to teach english*

-*dEeP sPaCe STarE while he is standing at the board pointing to the sentence structures*

-”Sensei, are you oka-”

-”IMTHINKINGASHARDASICANTOFIGUREOUTASOLUTIONDONTPRESSUREMEoKaY.”

-lolol but once classes are over he taps you on the shoulder and asks if he could walk with you home for a bit. You visibly nervous, you reject and say “Umm It’s all right Mr.Hizashi, you’re busy and I don't want you to take up any of your time plus it’s late and I'm tired and i have to go and-”

-”Y/n...You don’t have to make up excuses, I know you don’t have anywhere to stay.”

-stopping in your tracks, your eyes went wide and you faced him 

-”I heard you talking to that friend this morning.”

-M-mr.Hizashi I can explain-”

-cutting you off once again he begins “Hey, you don’t have to do any of that. It’s your business. But I don’t want you to just roaming around or staying anywhere alone anymore, okay? If you would like, I have an extra bedroom at my house, you can stay there until we get everything sorted.”

-”No..Mr.Hizashi...It’s okay..I’ll be okay, I’ve always have. Plus you have been such a great teacher and already went out of your way more than what I could have asked...staying with you would be too much.”

-”Y/n, it’s okay to ask for help. I seriously don’t mind. At least stay for the night so you can eat and have a roof over your head, then in the morning we’ll figure something out.”

-You hesitantly accepted but you told him that you’d be out of his hair as soon as the next morning hit.

-That night going to his house was...nice to say the least. The guest bedroom that he had was bigger than your friend’s kitchen and nicer than any place that you’ve stayed at. It really was heaven. So warm and cosy. There was a nice sense of nostalgia and security, something you’ve haven’t felt in years. His home was somewhere anyone would want to live in their whole lives. 

-”Once you’ve settled down, you can come to the dining room. I ordered some take out, I figured you’d be hungry.”

-For a moment you sat on the fluffy bed and just took in everything. God was so good to you right now and honestly you thanked him. Although it frustrates you to think that this would only last for a second and you’d be back on the streets, roaming around. Yeah yeah, Hizashi wants to help you but you knew soon he’d get tired of your presence in his house…..they all did. 

-Taking a deep breath, you went to go meet hizashi in the dining room.

-He welcomed you then motioned you to sit down at any of the seats at the table. “Oh hey, there’s miss america. You may sit anywhere you’d like. And help yourself to the food here.”

-You sat down across from him, only not to look at him just to have your eyes on the empty plate in front of you. You didn’t really touch any of the food actually or even make a sound. You weren’t trying to be rude or anything, you just..there was a lot on your mind and facing hizashi seemed difficult.

-”Are you okay Y/N? I hope sushi is okay. I- i meant to um ask what you would like to eat first. I’m sorry.”

-”No I’m sorry for-,”  twiddling your thumbs for a moment you then looked towards the blonde fellow “Mr.Hizashi..My parents left when I was around three but they left me with my aunt. She was a very good person and took good care of me but she got very ill...and um you know. At first I was living in her apartment but i couldn’t pay for it when it was time for rent so..I stayed with my friend for a couple of months. But her parents kind of got tired of me staying there and it was this thing, so I lied and told them I found a family member to stay with. And um up until now I've been staying on the streets. Sometimes having a sleepover once every so often.”

-”Y/n…”

-”I didn’t tell you because I was so scared… I didn't know what to do and I really really don’t want to go in foster care or anything so I just thought I was better off keeping it from you. But I guess it backfired anyways because you still found out haha….I’m sorry Hizashi. I hope you don’t think of me any less. I- it was a tough situation and all and you know how that is...”

-He immeadately stood up, walked over to you and hugged you. It was with So mUcH compassion and genuine love. You really was his favorite student no scratch that HIS FAVORITE HUMAN i swear he would end the world for you. 

-He gave you a little cheek kiss and was like “I’m not letting anyone put you in foster care and I'm sure as hell am not kicking you out even if i have to take custody of you.”

-”w-wait what? wAiT wHaT???”

-”KID IM fucking keeping you here safe with me even if i’m in court all year. We are going to make this work somehow, you aren’t doing this alone anymore. Do you understand?”

-YeAh hEs cRyInG iM cRyinG yOuRe CryInG wE aLl CryinG 

-BRO YOU ARE UGLY CRYING NOT NO SOFT CUTE CRY LIKE HAHA YOU SOUND LIKE A WALRUS TRYING TO SAY ‘t-tH-Th-HaNKy-yyy-YoUUU-UOi  mR hIzZaShIiIi”

-He whipes the tears of your cheeks and ruffles your hair 

-”it’ll be okay Y/N, I promise.”

-I swear he’s like rushing to the computer and trying to figure out how to adopt you.

-”HoW tO aDoPt a ChILD wHen You aRe a hEro.”

-There's an actual wiki-how about it???????

-No but he’s really doing his research and is visiting lawyers trying to find the right one. He has them immediately looking into everything and making sure that his chances of getting you is as high as possible. 

-He’s up late at night on the phone, emailing,  and writing

-He has pounds and pounds of evidence that he is the most fit person to take care of you. He is not playing whatsoever

-He already let’s you decorate and he even gives you an office so you can do work or whatever. He most definitely brought you clothes and stuff for your room.

-When the courts and everything finally approves it after a long year of fighting, he picked you up and spun you around.

-”What did I tell you?!? I was not going to lose you and i made sure of that. And starting today and the rest of  forever you’ll never have to be alone.”

-BonUs

-100% takes you out somewhere super fun and nice. 

-”Wait we must take a selfie, The first day we are legally Father-daughter!”

-The most chaotic duo now, Everyone at school knows he adopted you and like he won't let anyone forget it.

-MISSSSSS AMERICAAAAAAA, is now, MISSSSSSS HIZAAAAASSSHHHHHIIIIIIII.

-”WHEEEEERRREEEE ISSS MYYYY LITTLE MUSHROOM???”

-”YYYYYY/NNNNN YOU LEFT YOUR BAG IN MY MINIVAN.”

-He has a minivan now. It also has a ‘Yeah I’m a soccer dad and i’m proud’ sticker on it.

-He joined the PTA 

-HE IS SOOO BIASED I SWEAR NO ONE IS ABOVE YOU IN HIS CLASS AND NO ONE BETTER SAY ANYTHING ABOUT IT

-Always hugging you and giving you little cheek kisses when he sees you in the halls

-Made a titled track called “Now a dad”

-he most definitely wears ‘Best Dad’ shirts now. He also is in a ‘Single dad’s in Japan’ group now

-”I think we look just alike, Don’t we Y/N?” you both smiled and posed at the same time

[an-absolute-travesty]

Secret Santa fic!

Heya @all-eternity it was me all along! I hope you enjoy this :) very much looking foward to actually being able to follow you after this without looking sketchy lmao

Also shoutout to my lovely beta reader @keepersandqueens as if I don’t talk about Salas enough here lol

Warnings: underage drinking, drinking in general, hangover, drugs/medication mention (not abused, basic over the counter stuff dw), mentions of vomit (not described)

Pairings: Kam, background marelinh, ex titz

About: Kam coffee shop college au 

Word count: 5,205

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed): @cadence-talle @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlyvacksen @percabetn @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42​ @rainbowtay-11 @callas-starkflower-stew @impostertamsong @appalyneinstitute1 @stars-and-splendor @anna-without-an-e @mistythegenderqueermess @we-have-no-bananas-today @we-wont-dissapear @jadenightthewriter

Tam stumbled into his first 8 am class, anxiety making his heart feel like it was pounding out of his chest and stomach doing backflips.

If he could survive bouncing between foster homes, a short stint at juvie, and worst of all high school, he could survive college.

Well he thought he could until he saw a familiar person right next to the only available chair in the room.

God fucking damn it.

"Hey Bangs Boy!" Keefe waved him down, causing a scene. Tam had no option but to sit beside him, both because of the lack of chairs and the fact that everyone was now staring at him.

Not a great start.

"What a coincidence! I notice you still haven't taken my suggestions on your hair, I'm telling ya' you'd get all the girls and or guys and nonbinary pals with a man bun." Keefe looked smug at the fact he'd be able to taunt Tam for another semester, minimum. Tam was already making a mental note to check when he could swap out of classes.

"Keefe, if I knew you were going here I would've just gotten myself back in jail, oh wait, you were the one who got me in there in the first place." Tam shot him a look, praying that he'd suddenly develop superpowers and shoot lasers from his eyes.

"Hey, just because I came up with the idea...and helped with some of the execution, doesn't mean I'm responsible for you trashing your parents house. Besides, you were only in there for like 3 days max before you got out," Keefe said, shrugging as if 3 days in jail was no biggie.

"Most peaceful 3 days of my life," Tam sneered, turning back to the front of the room as the professor walked in.

"Good morning class!" the prof turned to the white board, writing his name. "I am Dr. Harding," he tapped it for emphasis.

The class was silent.

"And you say good mor..."

"Good morning Dr. Harding," The class said in unison, they all sounded tired and bored.

This wasn't going to be fun.

~*~

"Grande ice vanilla latte for...Hen-are-y?"

The man shot Keefe a look as he grabbed his coffee.

"Henry." He dropped a tip in the jar, fifty cents. How generous.

He had come in before, and never left good tips. Keefe made it a game to pronounce the names of anyone who wasn't a college student and left bad tips wrong, no matter how much they came in. It was a wonder he hadn't been fired yet.

As he turned preparing another drink, the bell at the top of the door rang. He ignored it at first until he heard a quiet, "Fuck," come from behind.

"Bangs boy!"

"Why are you here?"

"I work here obviously," Keefe walked up to the counter. "Now, what'll it be?"

Tam sighed. "Iced caramel macchiato with two extra shots of espresso."

"Size?"

"Venti."

Keefe whistled thinking about how much caffeine that was as he wrote down "Bangs Boy" on the cup.

"Alright, that'll be 5.75, may I ask why the insane amount of coffee? I believe I remember you saying caffeine makes you anxious in high school."

"Yes, but it also helps me focus, and I have a quiz tomorrow I haven't studied for."

"Fair enough," Keefe said, going to prepare the drink. "It'll be ready in five."

Tam nodded, walking off to the side and scrolling on his phone. Keefe made the drink, occasionally sneaking looks over at Tam. He didn't seem to notice, thank God.

Soon after, they finished the transaction.

"See you at class," Keefe said, he was trying to be genuine, but it came across more taunting.

Tam grimaced, muttered "Thanks for the coffee," and walked out the door.

~*~

The class fell silent as a disheveled Dr. Harding walked in, a pack of gatorade in one hand and bottle of tylenol in the other. He popped one as he sat down.

"Hello class it seems today I have the worst headache imaginable, just give me about 5 minutes of silence and we will go over your assignments."

Keefe leaned over to Tam's desk.

"Well, we know what he got into last night," he whispered. "Heard the bar on the corner of 5th was giving out two for ones for professors."

"Isn't that place run by the alumni?"

"Exactly. Gotta thank Alvar tomorrow, Fitz said it was his idea."

"Wait Fitz goes here too? Why did I not-"

"Boys!" Dr. Harding practically yelled. "I am tired of the racket." He put his face in his hands where his elbows rested on the desk, bald spot showing to the world.

"We were whispering!" Keefe made a 'what the hell' sort of gesture. Tam glared at him, hoping he could communicate 'I will kill you myself if you say another word' with just his eyes.

"Sencen, do I look like I care?"

Keefe winced a bit at the use of his last name. That was something Tam could understand.

"Look, boys," Dr. Harding stood up and turned to the chalkboard, writing something down. "If you all like talking so much, you'll love this next project."

He walked to the side, revealing the board, that read '10 page essay, due the 25th'

"With the person next to you, you'll be writing a 10 page essay on um...the importance of keeping your oil changed in your car. You'll then present it to the class. It's worth 25 points."

A student raised their hand.

"Luka?"

"Sir, I thought this was a psychology course?"

"It is. You are all excused."

With that, he left the room with his tylenol and gatorade in his arms. The students glared at Keefe and Tam as they all got up, muttering amongst themselves about the pure bullshittery of it all.

"So..." Keefe said, slowly standing. "Does the library tomorrow at 3 work? I have work until then, so it can't be any earlier."

"Yeah, sure." Tam promptly walked out of the classroom as fast as possible, he didn't know why but his anxiety was spiking. He tried to tell himself it was just because he was a useless gay that didn't know jackshit about cars, yeah, surely that was it.

Just a useless gay.

~*~

Tam waited at a table in the library, it was 3:05, Keefe was late.

He didn't know what else he expected from him, he always seemed to do stuff like this. At the same time, Tam didn't have the energy to be particularly mad at him. This was going to be the stupidest essay ever written in the history of man, might as well put it off.

The library door slammed open, and in came Keefe. He balanced a large stack of papers and books along with four drinks. He stumbled over to Tam and practically threw them down on the table.

"Sorry I'm late, I thought it would be nice to, like, get you a coffee, but I didn't know how much caffeine you wanted, so I got one decaf caramel macchiato, one normal, and one with an extra shot, and also hot chocolate for me."

He sat down in the chair by Tam, as if getting three different coffees for someone you were forced to do a project with was totally normal.

"Um...thanks, I-I can pay you back-"

"Don't worry about it." Keefe turned to him and smiled, bright and friendly. Tam was frozen. "Okay, now it's car time." Keefe turned back to the desk.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a while as they researched, Keefe going through his piles of papers and books and Tam on his laptop like any sane person would.

Tam finally worked up the nerve to talk.

"So um...this is out of nowhere, but I think you mentioned Fitz went here?"

"Oh, yeah." Keefe put down the absurdly large textbook that was set up in front of him. "He's my roommate, he uh thought it would be best not to tell you after everything, I guess."

"That's fine," Tam shrugged like he didn't care. "I'm over it."

He was, really. They only dated like 2 weeks, sure it ended with a...pretty big fight after Fitz claimed he wouldn't be able to date someone who had gone to jail and Tam reminded him it was his best friend that got him in there in the first place, but he was still over it. There was still something bothering him, nothing to do with Fitz himself but...something. He just couldn't put his finger on what.

"Alright, I'll take your word." Keefe shrugged, setting his giant book back up in front of him.

Tam felt the need to start talking again, but didn't. They were mostly silent for the next 40 minutes or so, just researching and the occasional word exchanged between them.

Keefe checked his phone.

"Shit," He got up. "Work emergency, I gotta go. Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah that works."

"Chill, see ya' later."

"Bye."

Keefe waved (with a wide grin Tam would've called idiotic in high school) as he went out the door.

Tam found himself with a smile on his own face, he quickly stopped, hoping no one saw.

~*~

Keefe hurried into work, pulling his apron on as he saw the absurdly long line and a panicked Marella frantically making coffees behind the counter. She sighed with relief when she saw him.

"Thank God," She said as he stepped behind the counter with her. "There was a scheduling error, Forkle's useless at that stuff."

Mr. Forkle, their well-meaning but often mistaken manager, was out of town at the moment. The fate of the Starbucks rested on two college kids, what could go wrong.

And so they went, Keefe taking orders and Marella fulfilling them until there were no more to serve.

Marella, quite literally, threw in a towel she had wiped her face with. Promptly going to the back, presumably for her break. Keefe followed her.

"Alright, I think you can probably go back to whatever you were doing before this now if you'd like," said Marella, inspecting the small braids in her hair in the nearest shiny surface.

"Nah I was just doing a project with Tam for Harding's stupid class, he's probably left by now, I might as well rack up some overtime."

Marella turned back at him, clearly caught off guard at the name.

"Tam? As in my-girlfriend's-brother Tam? As in you-had-a-massive-crush-on-in-highschool Tam? As in dated-Fitz Tam? As in you-got-him-in-jail-"

"Yes! Yes! Why does everyone remind me of that, it was one time."

"When you get someone in jail, people tend to remember," Marella went silent for a second, thinking, before looking Keefe in the eye. "Wow, that must be awkward as hell, I mean seriously, if I were you I'd straight up file a restraining order just to avoid him. Maybe move to another country. I hear Estonia is lovely this time of year."

"Eh, it's not as bad as it seems. I mean it was awful at first, mostly because I tried to resume right where we left it on the taunting front, but I think it's ok now."

"Hm. Well good luck with that," Marella turned back to go to the front, but Keefe grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Uh, actually I need your advice on something. It has to do with Tam."

"Shoot."

"Well I was thinking of maybe, I don't know, asking him out or something? Look, yeah, it's an awful idea but is it 'he never wants to talk to me again' awful or 'he attempts to strangle me' awful?"

Marella looked him up and down, eyes uncomfortably cold, as usual.

"I mean, no hetero, but despite your annoying qualities you're a decent looking guy. Plus Tam's, like, super anxious according to Linh, so maybe he'll be too awkward to say no. You can probably squeeze at least one date in there."

"Wow, thanks Mare," Keefe mumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, I try. Also don't call me Mare."

"Alright Ella!" Keefe called as the front door's bell rang, signalling a new customer. Marella went off to take care of it, unable to respond she growled back at him.

~*~

Tap tap tap tap tap.

Tam glared from across the table.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

Keefe looked up, muttered a simple "Fidgety" and went right back to it, tapping his pen against the table. Tam said nothing more.

Keefe had been quiet for this entire meeting, something highly unusual for him.

"Ok, seriously dude, what's up? I haven't seen you this quiet literally ever."

He only seemed to get more fidgety at this question, his bouncing leg shaking the library table.

"I...um..." he looked down, running a hand through his hair "I have a test I need to cram for and no one to study with and keep me accountable. Y'know, ADHD issues."

Tam didn't overthink for once in his life but the moment the sentence was out of his mouth he regretted it.

"I have a test too, maybe we could study together?"

Keefe smiled his annoyingly charming smile.

"Sounds good."

"Good."

Tam quickly looked back down at his computer, trying to look like he was still doing car research when in actuality he was processing he just actively offered to spend more time with Keefe Sencen.

If Linh found out about this he'd never live it down.

He didn't think he cared.

~*~

Dr. Harding walked through the classroom door, clearly much less hungover than his last appearance.

The students waited, would they get an apology? Any sort of remorse?

"Alright, who wants to read first?"

Apparently not.

Keefe raised his hand with too much confidence for what their essay looked like. Tam gave him a confused look. He had his scheming face on, never good.

"Mr. Sencen!" Keefe winced at the use of his last name by the doctor. "What an amazing start, it's only appropriate. One of you boys come up and present."

Tam gave Keefe a look of 'do you want me to do it?' Keefe just smiled and got up from his chair. This would either be really good or really, really bad. Tam was all too familiar with the scheme face.

"Doc, I did depart from the source material a bit here, hope you don't mind. And I use 'I' because Tam had no involvement in this, he deserves full points for his essay."

Keefe cleared his throat, the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"Doctor Harding deserves to get fired: an essay. (And it's only been a week!) Paragraph one, his drinking problem-"

"Sencen! Back to your seat now. I will see you after class, or I will not see you in my next class, understand?"

Keefe gave a thumbs up as he sat back on his chair with a thud.

A few minutes later, in the middle of another student's essay, he passed Tam a note with his loopy handwriting.

"The amount of comebacks I had for 'see me after class' is absurd but if I get kicked out there's no way Elwin is helping me pay tuition a second time."

Tam tried not to smile, certainly failing, as he wrote his response.

"Yeah I think the time you talked back to Miss Cadence she wanted to expel you. Lucky Principal Alina had a thing for pseudo-dad Alden."

"Oh God I haven't talked to him in a whiiiiiile."

"?"

"You haven't heard? Yeah, he sorta found out like ALL his kids were ell gee bee tees and freaked out. Della found herself a new gf though!"

"Sounds like a lovely extra punch in the gut for a queerphobe."

"Yep. Honestly I recommend looking through his Facebook sometime. Just a million rants about how the gays destroy everything, great entertainment."

"Duly noted."

At that point it seemed like the doctor started to take notice of their note passing, and they stopped quickly. Tam wouldn't be surprised if he did the whole high school read in front of the class thing with the way he had been acting so far.

Tam was 100% sure tenure was the only thing keeping this guy's job intact. Apparently being a drunk asshole wasn't near enough to get a person out of their position. He tried to ignore the professor's annoyingly smug face for the rest of the class.

~*~

Keefe sat in his usual spot at the library, Tam sitting across from him, his brown eyes dancing across the textbook page and lips mumbling along the words. He didn't have much to do, often finding himself just staring at Tam, quickly looking away if he seemed to notice.

Eventually he sighed, sitting back.

"Ugh, this test is in a week and I have so much other crap to do, I'll never get this all memorized by Friday."

Keefe silently thanked his brain for managing to get around the having to study thing. Yay, photographic memory!

"Oh, uh, well I'm free to study more tomorrow if that would help? We could do, like, flashcards or something."

Tam seemed to repress a smile. He did that a lot. Keefe always noticed.

"That's okay, I'm sure you have better things to do. The Starbucks is always pretty packed."

"Eh, sometimes you have to get away from Marella. She's mean to me."

"Not just you, once she told me if I ever made fun of Linh's cat's name again she'd make me cut off my own bangs."

Keefe nodded sagely. "The shorter you are the closer to hell. That's why you're worse than her."

"Hey!"

Tam flicked a stray rubber band at Keefe.

"I'm at least 2 inches taller than Marella...we measured."

Keefe thought up about 12 inappropriate jokes he couldn't make before flicking the rubber band back.

"Two inches only counts in roller coasters, none of which you can ride."

Tam stuck his tongue out before returning to his studies. Unlike Tam, Keefe didn't hide his smile.

~*~

Tam strolled into the Starbucks that Friday morning, no longer surprised to see Keefe working the counter. He could barely hold still in line as he thought about the amount of cramming he'd have to do in the next few hours.

When he reached the counter, Keefe said nothing, just busily worked making a drink.

He stuck it right out at Tam.

"One venti iced caramel macchiato with 2 extra shots of espresso because you have a test today in political science and still haven't studied everything and also a muffin because you probably haven't eaten today. On the house. Good luck with the studying."

Tam froze.

"I- um- th-thaks. Y-you too...sport."

Oh, you fucking idiot.

He quickly scurried out of the Starbucks with drink and muffin in hand. Wow, he had screwed that up.

But...

Keefe...

He...

He remembered his order and that he had a test and that he forgot to eat when he was stressed holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-

Okay, deep breaths Tam, you got this. You can totally handle a frustratingly cute guy showing care for you this is fine...

Not fine, not fine, gotta tell Linh.

He called Linh with no forewarning. Despite the fact that she was currently across the country at a different university, and it was about 3 am for her, she picked up. He barely let her get out a groggy "Hello?" before explaining everything. She only seemed to think a moment before responding.

"Hm. Well it's good to know that college is going good for you. Do you need advice or comfort?"

"Yes."

"Well, first of all, everything's gonna be okay. And I know that doesn't help much but just try to remember we're eighteen, and it's not the end of the world. Second of all, try to ask him out or something. It doesn't have to be framed as a date, like Marella and I got together on a walk in the park, seriously it can be anything."

"Thanks Linh."

"No problem, also can you hug Marella for me?"

"If she doesn't try to kill me first, yes."

"Nice. Okay go do what you gotta do, also don't wake me up at 3 am again or else I'll sic Purryfins on you, I had just gone to bed."

With that she hung up and Tam continued on his way, still trying to not completely freak out.

~*~

Keefe stared blankly as Tam walked right out of the door. Marella appeared by his arm.

"So, how'd it go?"

"Well, he called me 'sport'."

Marella inhaled through her teeth.

"Yikes. Comfort, advice, or distraction?"

"Distraction, please." Keefe replied, absent-mindedly preparing a cup for the next customer.

"Uh, well I meant to ask you what ended up happening with that ass of a teacher, but I got a bit distracted at your attempt to woo Tam-"

"Hey I said distraction not reminder. But basically I just got a slap on the wrist because, and I quote, 'Your father is Cassius Sencen! He wrote half the books we use in this class, I'm sure he can straighten you out!'"

"There's absolutely nothing papa Sencen could do to make you straight, I'm pretty sure he tried that, and it obviously didn't work."

"He actually tried a few times and it most definitely did not. Lucky he doesn't have my number anymore or else I assure you he'd keep trying."

Marella laughed.

"Well, moving on from grade A assholes, I'm supposed to tell you there's a party tonight. I'll have to send you the address later, I have it on my phone though, I am told there's gonna be booze, so I'm going."

"Eh, I'll probably go. Just to get my mind off everything."

"Thata boy." She lifted her phone. "And my shifts over in three, two, one, and I am out of here! See ya' tonight Hunkyhair."

"That's Lord Hunkyhair to you."

She just rolled her eyes and clocked out, leaving Keefe to deal with both the customers and his own thoughts.

~*~

Tam sat in his dorm room alone, constantly refreshing his grades for the possibility that his 70-year-old professor would post the test results at 1:30 am.

His roommate was gone for the weekend, actually he was gone most of the time. Tam didn't think they'd even had a full conversation before.

He jumped as his phone began to ring, a call from Keefe of all people. He hesitantly picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Tam! Tam Tam Tam Tam Tam" Keefe's slurred speech was too loud for a phone call, Tam held his phone a bit away from his ear. "...fuck wait why did I call you..."

There was a long pause, neither said anything.

"Oh yeah! I needed to tell you something...but uh I uhm I forgot what it was."

"Keefe, where are you?"

"At a paaaaaarty, well, actually just outside a party because it was hot in there, but now it's cold out here so uh yeah."

Tam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, send me the address, I'm coming to pick you up. Wait right there and don't move."

"Okie dokie."

Tam heard a thud sort of sound and the rustling of grass from the other line before Keefe hung up and soon after got a message of his location.

After 20 minutes of walking in the cold, Tam came up to what seemed to be a frat house with Keefe sitting on the lawn in criss-cross, patiently waiting in short sleeves and basketball shorts, way too little clothing for the weather. His ruddy face smiled as he saw Tam approach.

"Tam! I remembered what I was going to tell you." He stood up, face falling right after. "Oh no wait I forgot again. Ooh! You need a drink."

Keefe grabbed Tam's hand, pulling him towards the house. Tam stayed in place.

"Hey, let's get you home dude."

Keefe pouted.

"I don't wannaaaa."

He slouched down, pulling on Tam's arm like a child having a tantrum.

Tam pulled him back up to his feet.

"C'mon, if you go to your dorm without fuss I'll buy you ice cream tomorrow."

Keefe seemed much more ok with going along with Tam with the ice cream deal. He pulled off his own coat and placed it around the very drunk boy, he didn't complain.

Keefe began humming some annoying song from the early 2000s that was playing from the house earlier as they walked back in the direction of the dorms.

Suddenly, Tam remembered something.

Fitz was Keefe's roommate.

Shit.

"Hey uh do you think Fitz is at your dorm?"

Keefe nodded confidently.

"Yep! Said he was gon' study. Wouldn't come to the party because of his 'reputation' or whatever."

Around reputation he did exaggerated finger quotes, nearly knocking Tam's jacket off his shoulders.

"Hm...in that case let's go to my dorm, ok?"

Keefe shrugged, apparently willing to go along with most things in his current state. Thank goodness Linh had made Tam bring extra pillows and blankets to college, he could sleep on the floor and just hope Keefe didn't get sick on him in the night.

It was ridiculously hard to lead Keefe back to his dorm. He tried to pull down his pants halfway there and Tam almost had to carry him up the stairs but soon enough they got there. He sighed with relief as he led his inebriated friend into the room.

"Okay, you can stay here for the night. I'll sleep on the floor."

Keefe plopped himself down on Tam's bed laying flat for only a moment before sitting up with a snap and a look of realization in his eyes.

"OOH! I remember what I was gonna tell you again!"

"Oh?" Tam said playing along, expecting him to forget again.

He patted the spot next to him on the bed, Tam continued to play along, sitting next to him.

"So Marella said that I should just tell you this, and it worked for her, so I'm gonna. And uh and you have to promise to listen 'cause I'm not sayin' it again."

At this point Keefe grabbed his face with both hands, staring right in Tam's eyes and squishing his cheeks.

"You're listening right?"

Tam nodded, mostly to shake Keefe's hands off his face.

"Okay."

Keefe took in an over dramatic breath as if he was preparing to preform in the Olympics before getting another grin on his face.

"I really like you."

"You really like me?"

He nodded mumbling "mhm".

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I like you. Like, like like you."

"Like...as a friend?"

"I said I wasn't gonna repeat myself. As a booooyfriend." At this point Keefe fell back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. Tam's cheeks were burning.

"How long have you liked me like that?"

"Mmmm..." Keefe seemed to ponder for a moment, "Prolly high school."

"Oh um...good to know. You should get some rest. I'll be down here if you need me."

"Alrighty."

Tam shut off the lights and Keefe started snoring quick. Tam could only stare up in the darkness, unable to sleep.

~*~

Keefe woke up that morning in a room he didn't recognize to a killer headache and dead phone.

He turned to the side, seeing a pile of blankets and pillows with a large gatorade, bottle of tylenol, and a note next to it. Suddenly last nights memories came flooding back.

Oh, shit.

He scrambled out of bed, headache and nausea hitting him harder as he stood up.

Despite the fact his head was spinning, he picked up the note from the ground and read it.

Hey, meet me at the reservoir around 6, we need to talk -Tam

F. U. C. K.

Had he really said all that stuff last night? Surely it was a dream, right?

Oh God.

He gathered his few belongings, plus the things to help the hangover, and left the dorms as fast as possible. Only having to stop once along the way to throw up in one of the campus trash cans, hopefully no one would notice.

Keefe didn't have anything to do and he really didn't want to face Fitz so he went about his day in last nights clothing. Then again, it was a college campus. Someone walking around with rumpled clothes carrying a gatorade probably wasn't that big of a deal for most people. By 5:30 he sat impatiently in the empty park where the reservoir was located, it was colder closer to the water.

Just as promised, at 6 o'clock he saw Tam approaching on the horizon.

~*~

Tam was damn near a panic attack as he walked around the park attempting to find Keefe. Eventually he found him, sitting on a bench still in his clothes from last night, face once again ruddy from the cold. He sat next to him wordlessly.

"So," Keefe started.

"So," Tam replied, looking down at his lap.

"Tam I-" Keefe turned to face him. "I'm sorry about everything last night, I probably just made everything super awkward. Not to mention it's a giant violation of the friend code to even have a crush on your best friend's ex-"

"Yeah, about that."

"What?"

"You're gonna maybe kill me for this but uh," Tam pulled on his bangs. "I sorta talked to Fitz about it, I figured you wouldn't and apparently I was right. He said he was okay with it as long as we were ok with it."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Tam sighed, "Perhaps."

Keefe once again wore that shit-eating grin of his.

"Can I hear you say it?"

"Why don't you have to say it?"

"Already said it last night! Your turn now. Why did you take care of me while I was drunk?"

Keefe stared at Tam excitedly waiting for the answer. Tam sighed.

"Because I love you, little shit."

"Ooh you said it-"

Tam smashed his lips against Keefe's, both quickly melting into it. After only a moment they pulled away.

"Agh, you taste like gatorade and vomit."

"Well you taste like salt so really what's worse."

"Definitely the vomit."

Despite this, Tam leaned back in. This kiss was a moment longer than the last, and when Tam pulled away Keefe chased it.

"Ok, look I'm sorry but you look like shit Keefe you have to go change." Tam removed his jacket, throwing it around Keefe once again and helping him up from the bench. Keefe laughed.

"Yeah, you're right. Ooh now that we're a thing you need a new nickname!"

"I do?"

"You do, how about 'Bangs Boyf' ooh or maybe you can be my 'provoked partner' or my 'snappy spouse' my 'agitated accomplice' perhaps."

"Do you just have these ready and prepared for any situation?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

"You aren't Houdini, you're an 18-year-old boy that currently reeks of frat party."

"Eh that's basically the same thing. I've seen some 18-year-olds at frat parties preform tricks Houdini could never dream of."

Tam sighed dramatically. "It's a good thing you're pretty, you know."

"Hey!" Keefe jokingly shoved him.

For the first time Tam's smile wasn't repressed.

[kncrowder88]

So, I’ve been seeing some anti-Dumbledore stuff recently on various social media and having recently gone through the first book with one of the little ones in my life …. I’ve been thinking. Now, I’m not one who will proclaim Dumbledore is perfect or anything. Dude messed up. At a variety of moments throughout the books and throughout the history of the wizarding world. Along with that, we should all be able to agree no character in the books (or movies for that matter) is perfect. They all make mistakes. They all make choices that are not the best choice at times. This doesn’t mean they are horrible people or anything just … flawed. And that’s okay.

Now onto what I’m posting about…

So the timeframe that my brain has latched onto is the let’s just yeet Harry onto a doorstep.

Why you ask? Well, everyone – at least the antiDumbledore stuff I keep seeing – is focusing that as just a Dumbledore big no no moment. When in fact, he is not the only grown ass adult present in that moment who could have just … grabbed Harry and made a different choice. McGonagall and Hagrid were there as well. “But McGonagall did protest” … true. “But Hagrid was just doing what he was told” … also true. I’m sure there is a million other comments people can make but these are rather common ones I hear when this topic is being discussed “Hagrid was doing as he was told, and McGonagall did protest” is often mentioned during these scenes.

But here is the thing … anytime that argument of just following orders or just doing what they were told is used in other situations people will fight it. I’ve seen full on debates over it. But I guess because its Hagrid and he’s a precious character within this fandom it’s cool? I guess. I don’t know I’m not gonna go into great depth on that. The point is … its still not okay. I get why in this moment, near half a century after being given a place to live by the very man he is now desperately loyal to, that he doesn’t just suddenly up and change his behavior. That’s cool, I get it. That hasn’t been challenged for him. This is his flaw though … that extreme loyalty to Dumbledore – which is a flaw we can see within others like Remus (and a flaw within Dumbledore, this need to foster that in others, that is a whole other post). So … leaving that there. Just remember if you are willing to look at Hagrid and get that then try to look at other characters just following orders and maybe they got a reason why too. (doesn’t excuse it just explains the character)

Now, McGonagall … the one often presented with her is her “worst sorts of muggle” line from the movie. Which is a good line but … not what she said in the books. Remember, she spent the entire day watching this family. Watching Vernon and Petunia as parents with Dudley. From what she witnesses they LOVE this child. They care for him. They treat him well. They spoil him, yes. But they are not bad parents. They are adoring parents who care deeply for their child. The only moment they mention anything to do with the wizarding world she could have picked up on was during the news cast and its ‘her crowd’ and comment on Harry’s name being ‘nasty common name’. Which sorry but that’s not a bad indicator (tell me you’ve never made judgements on someones choice of baby name before or character name or any name you’ve come across and maybe I’ll consider judging this moment as some horrid thing). On top of that, we have no canon proof McGonagall knew anything about how Petunia was prior to this moment … all that is fanon. Now, to quote her book line:

“You don’t mean – you can’t mean the people who live here?” cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. “Dumbledore – you can’t. I’ve been watching them all day. You can’t find two people who are less like us. And they’ve got this son – I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!”

Her issue is literally based on two things: 1) they are nothing like them (wizards) and 2) Dudley is clearly spoiled.

None of this is “Harry will be in an abusive environment that will result in a poorly treated child.” No. She is literally judging them because they are MUGGLE. She went “they so muggle can’t raise Harry” and said that. That is what “nothing like us” means. I really shouldn’t have to do some real-world switcheroo on this to get those words to make any more sense but seriously? Seriously? Those words are clearly meant to define a clear us vs them thing from her. They aren’t magical, they should not have Harry Potter to raise. Then to her as well they spoiled one kid they may just spoiler him. Like their two biggest flaws are basically muggle and loving a child (to a excess of spoiling but still), that was her take away. And her argument in the book. Which means, when you look at that movie line “worst sorts of muggles” that is what she is getting at. They spoiled their kid, they are the types of muggles that are very muggle.

Furthermore, Minerva had a choice in this moment as well. She’s a grown woman, challenges Dumbledore often as we see. Is willing to have conversations with him and work things out – this is why its argued she isn’t just his second at the school but in the Order and so on within the fandom – and I’ve no doubt that she’d have the confidence to go against Dumbledore if she truly wanted to. Which means … she opted just as much as Dumbledore to just yeet Harry on that doorstep. She agreed with Dumbledore’s arguments and overlooked her own protests (which have a pretty prejudice viewpoint) to them and accepted it.

My point is … this is the first chapter of the book. And we are introduced to two loving parents and their spoiled kid. Parents who clearly have a strained relationship with another part of their family and along comes that part of the family’s life to just … judge them, drop a kid on their doorstep, tell them nothing, and walk away. All side are wrong in this not just Dumbledore. He does not hold all the blame in this moment. (the wrong from the Dursley’s is after this moment)

[dajokahhh]

Alright, time for some pretentious sociological-esque rambling. This is gonna be long as hell (its 1822 words to be specific) and I don’t begrudge anyone for not having the patience to read my over-thought perspectives on a murder clown. CWs for: child abuse, 

I think a lot of things have to go wrong in someone’s life for them to decide to become a clown themed supervillain. A lot of people in Gotham have issues but they don’t become the Joker. I think that as a writer it’s an interesting topic to explore, and this is especially true for roleplaying where a character might be in different scenarios or universes. This isn’t some peer reviewed or researched essay, it’s more my own personal beliefs and perspectives as they affect my writing. I think villains, generally, reflect societal understandings or fears about the world around us. This is obviously going to mean villains shift a lot over time and the perspective of the writer. In my case, I’m a queer, fat, mentally ill (cluster B personality disorder specifically) woman-thing who holds some pretty socialist ideas and political perspectives. My educational background is in history and legal studies. This definitely impacts how I write this character, how I see crime and violence, and how my particular villains reflect my understandings of the society I live in. I want to get this stuff out of the way now so that my particular take on what a potential origin story of a version of the Joker could be makes more sense.

Additionally, these backstory factors I want to discuss aren’t meant to excuse someone’s behaviour, especially not the fucking Joker’s of all people. It’s merely meant to explain how a person (because as far as we know that’s all he is) could get to that point in a way that doesn’t blame only one factor or chalk it up to “this is just an evil person.” I don’t find that particularly compelling as a writer or an audience member, so I write villains differently. I also don’t find it to be particularly true in real life either. If you like that style of writing or see the Joker or other fictional villains in this way, that’s fine. I’m not here to convince anyone they’re wrong, especially not when it comes to people’s perspectives on the nature of evil or anything that lofty. Nobody has to agree with me, or even like my headcanons; they’re just here to express the very specific position I’m writing from. 

The first thing I wanna do is set up some terms. These aren’t academic or anything, but I want to use specific and consistent phrasing for this post. When it comes to the factors that screw up someone’s life significantly (and in some instances push people towards crime), I’ll split them into micro and macro factors. Micro factors are interpersonal and personal issues, so things like personality traits, personal beliefs, mental health, family history, where and how someone is raised, and individual relationships with the people around them. Macro factors are sociological and deal with systems of oppression, cultural or social trends/norms, political and legal restrictions and/or discrimination, etc. These two groups of factors interact, sometimes in a fashion that is causative and sometimes not, but they aren’t entirely separate and the line between what is a micro vs macro issue isn’t always fixed or clear.

We’ll start in and work out. For this character, the micro factors are what determine the specifics of his actions, demeanor, and aesthetic. I think the main reason he’s the Joker and not just some guy with a whole lot of issues is his world view combined with his personality. He has a very pessimistic worldview, one that is steeped in a very toxic form of individualism, cynicism, and misanthropy. His life experience tells him the world is a cold place where everyone is on their own. To him the world is not a moral place. He doesn’t think people in general have much value. He learned at a young age that his life had no value to others, and he has internalized that view and extrapolated it to the world at large; if his life didn’t matter and doesn’t matter, why would anyone else’s? This worldview, in the case of my specific Joker, comes from a childhood rife with abandonment, abuse, and marginalization. While I will say he is definitively queer (in terms fo gender expression and non conformity, and sexuality), I’m not terribly interested in giving specific diagnoses of any mental health issues. Those will be discussed more broadly and in terms of specific symptoms with relation to how they affect the Joker’s internal experience, and externalized behaviours.

His childhood was, to say the least, pretty fucked up. The details I do have for him are that he was surrendered at birth because his parents, for some reason, did not want to care for him or could not care for him; which it was, he isn’t sure. He grew up effectively orphaned, and ended up in the foster care system. He wasn’t very “adoptable”; he had behavioural issues, mostly violent behaviours towards authority figures and other children. He never exactly grew out of these either, and the older he got the harder it was to actually be adopted. His legal name was Baby Boy Doe for a number of years, but the name he would identify the most with is Jack. Eventually he took on the surname of one of his more stable foster families, becoming Jack Napier as far as the government was concerned. By the time he had that stability in his mid to late teens, however, most of the damage had already been done. In his younger years he was passed between foster families and government agencies, always a ward of the government, something that would follow him to his time in Arkham and Gotham’s city jails. Some of his foster families were decent, others were just okay, but some were physically and psychologically abusive. This abuse is part of what defines his worldview and causes him to see the world as inherently hostile and unjust. It also became one of the things that taught him that violence is how you solve problems, particularly when emotions run high. 

This was definitely a problem at school too; moving around a lot meant going to a lot of different schools. Always being the new student made him a target, and being poor, exhibiting increasingly apparent signs of some sort of mental illness or disorder, and being typically suspected as queer (even moreso as he got into high school) typically did more harm than good for him. He never got to stay anywhere long enough to form deep relationships, and even in the places where he did have more time to do that he often ended up isolated from his peers. He was often bullied, sometimes just verbally but often physically which got worse as he got older and was more easily read as queer. This is part of why he’s so good at combat and used to taking hits; he’s been doing it since he was a kid, and got a hell of a lot of practice at school. He would tend to group up with other kids like him, other outcasts or social rejects, which in some ways meant being around some pretty negative influences in terms of peers. A lot of his acquaintances were fine, but some were more... rebellious and ended up introducing Jack to things like drinking, smoking cigarettes, using recreational drugs, and most important to his backstory, to petty crimes like theft and vandalism, sometimes even physical fights. This is another micro factor in that maybe if he had different friends, or a different school experience individually, he might have avoided getting involved in criminal activities annd may have been able to avoid taking up the mantle of The Joker.

Then there’s how his adult life has reinforced these experiences and beliefs. Being institutionalized, dealing with police and jails, and losing what little support he had as a minor and foster child just reinforced his worldview and told him that being The Joker was the right thing to do, that he was correct in his actions and perspectives. Becoming The Joker was his birthday present to himself at age 18, how he ushered himself into adulthood, and I plan to make a post about that on its own. But the fact that he decided to determine this part of his identity so young means that this has defined how he sees himself as an adult. It’s one of the last micro factors (when in life he adopted this identity) that have gotten him so entrenched in his typical behaviours and self image.

As for macro factors, a lot of them have to do specifically with the failing of Gotham’s institutions. Someone like Bruce Wayne, for example, was also orphaned and also deals with trauma; the difference for the Joker is that he had no safety net to catch him when he fell (or rather, was dropped). Someone like Wayne could fall into the cushioning of wealth and the care of someone like Alfred, whereas the Joker (metaphorically) hit the pavement hard and alone. Someone like the Joker should never have become the Joker in the first place because the systems in place in Gotham should have seen every red flag and done something to intervene; this just didn’t happen for him, and not out of coincidence but because Gotham seems like a pretty corrupt place with a lot of systemic issues. Critically underfunded social services (healthcare, welfare, children & family services) that result in a lack of resources for the people who need them and critically underfunded schools that can’t offer extra curricular activities or solid educations that allow kids to stay occupied and develop life skills are probably the most directly influential macro factors that shaped Jack into someone who could resent people and the society around him so much that he’d lose all regard for it to the point of exacting violence against others. There’s also the reality of living in a violent culture, and in violent neighbourhoods exacerbated by poverty, poor policing or overpolicing, and being raised as a boy and then a young man with certain gendered expectations about violence but especially ideas/narratives that minimalize or excuse male violence (especially when it comes to bullying or violent peer-to-peer behaviour under the guise of ‘boys will be boys’). 

Beyond that, there’s the same basic prejudices and societal forces that affect so many people: classism, homphobia/queerphobia, (toxic) masculinity/masculine expectations, and ableism (specifically in regards to people who are mentally ill or otherwise neurodivergent) stand out as the primary factors. I’m touching on these broadly because if I were to talk about them all, they would probably need their own posts just to illustrate how they affect this character. But they definitely exist in Gotham if it’s anything like the real world, and I think it’s fair to extrapolate that these kinds of these exist in Gotham and would impact someone like The Joker with the background I’ve given him.

I have no idea how to end this so if you got this far, thank you for reading!

[doktorpeace]

🖊 please introduce us to Erato, I know they're in a masks campaign but I have no idea what else

Oh, gosh, I feel like I talk about them too much as is but I can’t say I’m not glad to have the excuse. This is gonna be really long cause tbh I’m just gonna dump like, a bunch of their lore lmao.

Erato is my Masks: A New Generation character in a campaign being played alongside @twerkyvulture (As Amanda ‘Megafauna’ Ghorbani, The Transformed) @draayder (as Josephine ‘Rattlesnake’ Short, The Reformed) @spitblaze (as Les ‘Void’ Hawking, The Doomed) @heedra (as Enid ‘Frag Beetle’ Day, The Scion) and @skarchomp (as Parker ‘Cobalt’ Andrews, The Legacy) with @dykeceratops as our GM. The current arc features @mechanicalriddle as Zoe, The Nova as a guest member. Here’s a group shot done by @tredlocity. Clockwise from the top left: Cobalt in blue, Erato in the track suit, Les in the cloak, Zoe with the mismatched eyes, Enid’s the big robot, Amanda’s got the scales and claws, and Josephine’s got the mask and tonfa.

To get back to Erato specifically though they’re an Anti Metahuman/Metahuman Suppression Weapon created by the in universe tech group Wright Industries, founded by Ingrid Day, Enid’s mom. They’re generally stronger, faster, and more durable than humans and can copy the superpowers of others for 5-10 minutes by touching them thanks to what is basically a meta-stem cell transplant interacting with other parts of their systems. (Also, I 100% swear to god that I did not consider ‘Robot Hero Who Copies The Powers Of Others’ is literally fucking Mega Man despite loving Mega Man a ton until after I had hashed out the concept with my GM’s assistance. Only once Abby said ‘oh like mega man’ I was like ‘wait, shit’.) I’ll tell you some about them as a person before unloading their history onto you, lol. Being an android built for combat and kept in an underground research lab, kept on a rigid schedule, constantly taking tests, physical, mental, written, oral, ethical, etc. etc. etc. and under constant supervision Erato lacked for real interactive experience before the campaign started only really ever getting to takl with authority figures and their sisters. They were very passive and observational, owing in part to their power set requiring a lot of adaptation to make the most of. They’re naive and very bad at exercising discretion in decision making, sometimes they overstep boundaries when talking with people without meaning to, and they’re really emotional! They have trouble dealing with strong emotions cause they haven’t managed to discover coping mechanisms that work well for them, they tend to get angry kind of easily and need time to blow off steam. But they’re also very genuine, honest, and well meaning. They are almost never mean, rude, or snippy, they do their best to do well by others, and have a strong sense of justice paired with a deep distrust and dislike of the current legal system in universe. This is in part due to the conditions of their creation (and in part because the intent behind it was kind of right!) and in part due to Enid’s life being threatened by a representative of the state while they and their teammates were in jail after being arrested following a huge brawl with an anti-methuman terrorist group. They’re also very willing to put forth the effort to improve as a person and to mend relationship wounds, almost always apologizing first to Enid when they fight and genuinely trying to work in advice and feedback they get from others, which they often get from Les and Parker. They’re also relatively educated, from the tests of their creators, from home and public schooling, from personal research, but that doesn’t undo their naivety. They also just straight up lack some very basic and/or common sense knowledge. Like, they don’t know what a bear is. Why would you teach a battle android working in a densely populated, extremely built up city about wild animals? All in all they’re kind of inexperienced and immature and make mistakes a lot but they’re (usually) very willing to admit their mistakes and to try and improve and get better. They genuinely and truly want what’s best for others and are learning to value them self as much as their teammates. They’ve also taken it upon them self to start doing humanitarian work in their free time over the summer. In a fight Erato is adaptive and quick witted but tends to put themself in more danger than is necessary. They also sometimes use more extreme force than the others believe is called for, but after the first time they did they and Parker had a real heart to heart about it, Les helped Erato learn and practice some coping, centering, behaviors they could do even under pressure and Erato did their best to adapt. That said they Fucking Hate The Keeper So God Damned Much Because Of How Much Suffering He’s Caused Their Friends And How Much Danger He Presents And Would Kill Him With No Remorse. So they don’t intend to apologize for ripping his arms off whatsoever. They and their sisters, collectively known as The Muse Units, were made to work as a group and as a proof of concept that atomized units could replace traditional police for use against metahuman criminals and to slowly phase out The Registry, the legal department which handles general metahuman based laws. If successful the units could be mass produced and improved upon, rapidly replacing current, error prone, law enforcement. At the time of their development, between late 1999 for blueprint drafting and until mid 2002 when the project was shut down, they were the cutting edge for AI development aided in no small part by Ingrid’s technokinetic powers allowing her to make advancements few others could. (As a note Erato’s body was finished being built in early 2001 but their unique personhood didn’t really come to fruition until February 18th, 2002, so that’s what I consider their ‘birthday’.) Ultimately, however, while a few of the Muses excelled some did not perform to expectations, the project fell behind schedule, investors lost interest, and a minor scandal involving a casualty happened, resulting in the project being shut down. The Muses were placed in indefinite storage, the data gained from their short existence used on other projects such and some of the tech advancements used to inform future decisions by the company. And it would have stayed that way, if not for the fact that in 2018 Ingrid Day was revealed to be The Locust in a conflict where Enid tried to defend her against a militia group who had been hired to take her down, being shot and presumably killed in the process. As The Locust she had been terrorizing Boston for over a decade trying to take it over and being involved in the deaths of over 70 people. (Which irl btw would make her like, the 8th most prolific confirmed serial killer of all time, Yikes!) Wright Industries, desperately needing to prove their hard stance against metahuman criminals and needing a PR stunt to deflect from their connection to their former CEO re-awakened Erato. They weren’t the most powerful or best performing of the Muses, but they were above average, obedient, and had an easy enough to monitor and control power set with little risk for property damage to boot, the perfect choice. Erato then took to the streets of Boston acting basically as a vigilante, following orders, stopping minor crimes, and sometimes working alongside the police. They attracted the attention of The Viceroy, a semi-retired 56 year old hero who never registered in spite of it being compulsory legally. They both have the ability to copy the powers of others, though he can just by sight, and he has body elasticity too. These make him durable and extremely adaptable, add to that his detective skills and he’s something of a local Boston legend. He took them in as his Protégé. Though they remained distant for quite some time with Erato still coming and going between his place and Wright Industries, having promised not to reveal his assistance to the doctors who Erato reported their work to. It was this way for about a year and a half before the campaign started and Erato began living with Viceroy full time, no longer wanting to go back to Wright Industries as they began to think more independently and consider what they wanted for them self more. During this time Erato had chance encounters with each of the other characters a few times as they also did minor vigilante work, peaking with a villain who is a member of Superhuman, an extremist pro-metahuman group, attacked the school that Josephine, Les, and Amanda all attend. After that incident Erato was prompted by Viceroy to contact each of these other young potential heroes to form a team, The Upstarts. Additionally during this time Viceroy took in Enid who had been abandoned by her biological father and had been getting bounced around foster care. Over time the three of them have become kind of a weird family, living in a warehouse full of cats with a couple of bedrooms grafted on and an ultra secret basement lair underneath full of advanced stuff Viceroy makes. Though Erato and Enid have definitely had their ups and down, more recently in the story (and we’ve been doing this campaign for well over a year now) they’ve been putting in serious effort to better their relationship and be good adoptive siblings to one another. I love their relationship a lot, they’re good kids.

That gets us up to the start of the campaign but hoo boy, I’ve been writing for like, an hour now. Since then Erato’s helped take down a nazi-aligned terrorist organization, they’ve got a boyfriend in their teammate, Les, and they’ve made friends outside of their core group of teammates. They’ve also enrolled in school doing well on some classes and poorly in others, namely learning how to Code and Woodworking. Currently they’re at a sleep away summer camp for superpowered kids called Camp Justice, about 10 miles outside of Boston. They really, really hate it there. Constant supervision, being made to do tests, things scheduled out against their will, inability to leave the area? Yeah that certainly reminds them of something. The difference between it and school, which does share these features, is they wanted to go to school. They very much Did Not want to go to camp. As a result they’re finally going to have to start facing the trauma they’ve got from their origin and also actually tell the others other than Les and Amanda about their sisters. Whiiiiich...Enid saw one of them disassembled and showed off in parts at a school science fair display set up by Wright Industries to gauge interest in students. And she hasn’t mentioned this to Erato...for 4 months Uh Oh! Lastly, here’s my tag I use mostly for art I make of them, it includes some texts posts and picrew dumps too though, lol. Feel free to look!

[bigskydreaming]

One thing I never really see come up in the discussions about Dick not having wanted Bruce to be his father....

Like, there’s a reason kids orphaned at ten years old aren’t typically given the final say on what the rest of their life looks like from there.

They’re still kids.

No, this doesn’t mean what they want shouldn’t matter (far more than its typically allowed to within our fucked up system, that’s for sure).

But what it does mean is......anybody who fosters or adopts kids who are separated from their first families for whatever reason, is supposed to be aware of the reality that....KIDS CHANGE THEIR MINDS.

We’re talking about a person’s formative years here. Kids this age don’t typically know WHAT they want yet, even WITHOUT the overhanging influence of some huge tragedy or trauma, mixed in as well.

And they’re not supposed to. They shouldn’t be expected to.

I mean, how often do people hold you to things you say when you’re ten or twelve, no matter how much conviction you say it with? Let alone in the wake of serious emotional upheaval? What kid from a loving home is going to be ready let alone eager to see a new face occupying the picture they normally hold in their head when they think “dad”? Do children of divorce who have a parent remarry typically seem in a rush to call the new step-parent in their life by the title someone else already holds? Does this mean those children never end up calling their step-parent Dad or Mom....even while still having another person they call by that name?

No, I’m not suggesting that Bruce should have told a ten year old, grieving Dick Grayson “you may not want another father now, but I know what you’ll ultimately want better than you, so I’m going to adopt you and you’re going to like it.”

I’m just saying.....even if you go with the idea that Dick said this, early on when living with Bruce.....Bruce should have made this a topic to be revisited in a couple of years, to make sure that was still what Dick wanted. And yes, it should be on the parent or guardian to take the initiative here, because children who wind up in second homes with pre-existing reasons for not always being entirely certain of how stable their position there is....like, realistically, understandably....they’re NOT going to be the ones to broach these topics themselves.

And they should never be expected to be! Very few kids are going to have the surety to say “I know we’ve never really talked about this before but I would really like to be adopted,” and not feel super fucking presumptuous...even WITHOUT having the kinds of abandonment issues and insecurities Dick canonically has.

So I’m always going to maintain its a mistake to go with this take and attribute it to Dick’s wants and desires....based on something he expressed relatively early on in the grieving process and the early stages of his relationship with Bruce. Because inevitably, given many of his later insecurities and issues with Bruce, it becomes a kind of victim-blaming where its like, well if you wanted to be adopted, you shouldn’t have said otherwise.

(Never mind again that time in the 80s after Jason was adopted and Bruce and Dick were at a gala talking about it and why Bruce had never adopted Dick, and like....it was made ABUNDANTLY clear this was a want of Dick’s, and yet it was almost twenty years in real time and about four or five in comic book time before Bruce got around to it for some reason BUT I DIGRESS).

*Shrugs* Anyway, yeah. IMO its absolutely valid for Dick to express this when he’s nine or ten or even twelve, and its absolutely a good thing for Bruce to respect and honor this, regardless of whether it matches his own wants for what he wants his and Dick’s relationship to be.

The problem only lies in treating that like it was or should be the final word on the matter.

At the very least, its reasonable to expect Bruce to bring up the topic again a year or two later, after Dick’s had time to acclimate to his new environment, and not even need to make it a question that Dick has to answer now or even ever, but to simply like....express that there are options there, if Dick ever wants them. It really can be that simple. All it takes is Bruce making a point to make Dick aware that Bruce is open to whatever Dick wants, if Dick ever DOES want to change the nature of their relationship in any way, whether he wants to talk about adoption or changing the way they refer to each other to something more like “Dad” and “son” or even just if Dick wants to talk about what it might look like for them to still have a family relationship after he’s eighteen, if Dick still doesn’t want it to be as official as something like adoption but still would like to know that they have some solid connection or tie past that point...

(Like, so Dick never has to wonder when he’s fourteen or fifteen what’s going to happen after he turns eighteen if he’s not ‘really’ Bruce’s son. Is Dick expected to move out then, would it be weird for Dick to still just drop by whenever he’s in the mood, is that even okay....like, this is stuff that foster kids actually wonder about A LOT because like.....outside of adoption, most legal arrangements dissolve the second a kid turns eighteen and that means there is NO CERTAINTY in any of these kids’ lives past that point....unless someone makes sure to GIVE THEM a sense of certainty in something specific, something they can picture...yet this is also something I’ve never seen touched on in fanfics, when it almost certainly has to be something Dick thought or worried about at some point, given how much of their estrangement after he moved out in canon WAS rooted in mutual uncertainty as to what they even were to each other at this point.)

And if Bruce is afraid to have that conversation with Dick himself because he doesn’t want Dick to feel pressured at all, is worried about guilting Dick into asking for an adoption he doesn’t really want just because Dick thinks its what Bruce wants.....that’s actually not unreasonable either, but I mean, you know what else Bruce has? A best friend who’s a child of adoption, and whose experiences might not be interchangeable with Dick’s, but at least knows far better than Bruce what its like to have conflicting feelings about two sets of parents and guilt over maybe feeling like you’re abandoning one set by putting more focus on the other.

And if Bruce asks Clark to casually bring up this sort of conversation with Dick, at least Clark will be able to give Dick encouragement to open up to Bruce about this if he does have things he wants to say there, without the conversation itself making Dick feel pressured to go in any specific direction.

The point is, Bruce has options, and resources, and tons of different ways he can approach all this, while Dick is only ever going to have the blunt, straight forward approach with no guarantee of what answer he’ll get, especially if he worries he’s already made Bruce feel like he ‘rejected’ the idea of having Bruce be his father once.

And most importantly.....Dick, like any child in this kind of situation....

IS ALWAYS GOING TO BE THE ONE WHO HAS MORE TO LOSE.

If the answer isn’t what he hopes or wanted to hear. If the asking itself ends up destabilizing their relationship or his environment.

THE KID WHO HAD TO BE WELCOMED INTO THE HOME IS ALWAYS GOING TO HAVE MORE AT RISK THAN THE PERSON WHO OPENED UP THEIR HOME AND IS NOT OBLIGATED TO DO ANY MORE THAN THAT.

Like. That’s just how it is. That’s just the reality.

So....there’s no excuse for putting the weight of all that, all the expectations and deliberations that are involved in something this emotionally charged and complicated and with such myriad possible ramifications....

On just the once-voiced statement of a grieving ten year old. And with it to never be brought up again unless that same kid decides to some day ask “hey, you know how I said I didn’t want you to be my Dad once, well I changed my mind, can you be my Dad now?”

Like, that’s just not reasonable.

[m00nslippers]

Isabel gets a lot of flack but in the comics Jason reciprocated her interest. Even now he stated he regrets how things ended. Why do you think Jason pursued her? In 52 another girl asked him to call her too. Was only because he wanted something normal and she was an attractive blond who made herself available?

Eh, I think Isabel gets a lot of flak because she’s just…a very unfinished character. Despite people suggesting she doesn’t have a personality–she actually does, she’s extremely practical and cool-headed in an emergency, makes good decisions, is thoughtful but outspoken about what she wants, I can see exactly why Jason likes her. She actually is a pretty good fit for him. I think what she’s missing is anything about her personal life and likes or dislikes, how she got to the place she was when we met her in the story. If we were able to say, “She enjoys drinking wine and watching action movies, has a pet mossball that won’t have to feed when she’s away for a day or two on flights, plays the flute but as a kid she wanted to learn the harp but it was too expensive to buy one, likes 90s soft rock and grew up in the foster system so she took the first job she could find that didn’t need a degree she couldn’t afford and would take her away from Gotham City–airline stewardess,” then I think people would like her a lot better.

I don’t remember when someone else gave Jason her number, so I can’t tell you why he didn’t pursue that girl, but I’ll tell you why I think he pursued Isabel–Roy and Kori. Isabel gave Jason her number before Roy and Kori got together, but by the time Jason had visited Gotham city for the Court of Owls event, his two friends were together and I think Jason figured he should also find someone, both to have an excuse to give them more time together and because he wanted what they had and maybe it just felt like something he ‘should’ do, “I’m twenty, I should date, that’s a thing normal people do, right?” So at that time, Isabel was just convenient. At that point Jason thought she was pretty and everything, but he wasn’t exactly invested yet–and then they all got kidnapped by the Omega Men and roped into a space adventure and the way Isabel just ran with it and stepped up really made Jason fall in love with her.

Jason likes reliable, practical, brave women who can handle themselves in a bad situation, that’s like Jason’s kink, lol. Look at all the girls he’s been with or crushed on (Talia, Barbara, Artemis, Kara, maybe Essence and Rose deviate a little because even if they are badasses they seem a bit erratic but there’s a reason neither relationship worked out) and that’s kind of what you get. It’s never said anywhere, but I think Jason’s mother was quite unreliable and he was taking care of her more than she took care of him, so when he sees a girl who is independent, strong, dependable even when bad stuff is happening, that really hits home for him. Like if there’s ever a moment when he isn’t strong enough, she would take care of him, or if he had to leave her for some reason, she’d still be okay, life would go on.

A bit of a tangent, but I was reading the scene where Isabel and Jason first meet and…Isabel is really putting herself out there trying to get Jason’s attention. I feel like through the whole flight she was eyeing this crazy-hot twenty-something guy in a suit who looked like he had his shit together and she was really interested in Jason, so she tries to be flirty. Gives eye contact, smiles, asks him if he needs anything maybe a little more often than she does for the other passengers–you know, the type of behavior the average guy would interpret in a woman as flirting even if she was just being nice and didn’t intend to flirt at all. But Jason just didn’t even react.

So Isabel’s mind is racing like, is he gay? Not hitting my gaydar but he sure is bantering a lot with the guy with him, so maybe that’s it. I usually get hit on left and right even when I’m trying to be cold, it’s irritating actually and the one time I actually try to flirt the guy is ignoring me. He isn’t wearing a ring, he’s probably not married. Maybe he’s just not interested in me? Am I being too subtle? Am I crazy for being this attracted to a passenger I might never see again? So she decides to be overt as fuck and hope that gets his attention, lol. And as it turns out, Jason is both respectful enough to women that he doesn’t think normal polite behavior is flirting and is goddamn oblivious to people being interested in him so he barely notices even if it’s obvious.

Like Jason following Isabel to the drink cart could easily have been some creepy guy thinking he was going to join the mile high club, you know? But no he really just wanted to walk and get his drink he didn’t pull anything weird. I’m sure Isabel was just like, okay I have to spell it out for this guy, he’s too nice and too polite, he really just doesn’t get it. So she gave him her number.

And like, look at this dork. Jason gets a girl’s number and he’s just so very confused like, “Huh? Why would a girl give me her number? Why would anyone be interested in me?”

Jason is just too precious.

[massivedrickhead]

Home: Chapter 2/8

A/N: Thank you to those that reviews. Didn't get a huge response but I know the first couple of chapters are kind of weak so I'm hoping you stick with me on this.

If you can find it in you to leave me a review I'd be forever grateful haha

Read on Fanfic.net

I do not own Pitch Perfect or Harry Potter or any of their characters.

Second Year

"Beca," a voice groaned from the ground beside her.

Beca did not, could not, take her eyes of the Death Eater in front of her. She felt like if she did, he would either attack, or escape.

Yet she couldn't bring herself to attack first.

"Beca," the voice groaned again. "Help."

"So?" Stacie asked, sitting on the bottom of Beca's bed, crossing her legs.

Beca spent most of her time in their dormitory these days. Last year, she spent more time in the common room with the other Slytherins, but ever since this Heir of Slytherin stuff started happening, talk in the common room turned more and more into how muggle-borns didn't belong in Hogwarts, which Beca, of course, didn't agree with. So Beca spent most of her time out the way.

"So what?" Beca asked, looking up from her book. She was reading up on the disarming charm. She hadn't managed to get to grips with the wand movement, and their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was, to put it mildly, an idiot.

"Are you gonna come audition for Flitwick's choir or not?" Stacie asked.

Beca rolled her eyes. "Not," she said, looking back at her book. Stacie took it out of her hands with a huff of annoyance. "Dude!"

"Why not?" Stacie asked.

"Why would I?"

"Because," Stacie held up a finger, "you're good at singing," she held up a second, "you actually like singing," she held up a third, "I don't want to be the only Slytherin there."

"Imagine what my dad would say if I joined a choir," Beca said, shaking her head. "I still haven't told him I tried to try out for the Quidditch team. Not that it mattered."

The Quidditch try-out had been beyond frustrating. She was a good chaser, she knew she was, but captain Marcus Flint took one look at her small, skinny frame and laughed. He wouldn't even watch her fly. The memory of it still caused a flare of anger to rush through her.

"Are you going to spend your whole time at Hogwarts worrying what your dad will say? Here's a thought, just don't tell him," Stacie said.

"That's easy for you to say, your parents are actually nice," Beca said.

"And your dad is an asshole, I know, but still," Stacie said, "he isn't here, is he? You are."

Beca sighed. "I just… I don't know, Stace."

"Chloe will be there," Stacie added, a last ditch attempt to get Beca to agree to come.

Beca flushed red. "Why are you telling me that?"

"Oh, are you trying to tell me you don't want an excuse to see her? Don't insult my intelligence," Stacie said.

Beca didn't bother to argue. "Fine," she said. "I'll come."

"Hurray!" Stacie said, her arms raised in triumph. "This will be fun."

Beca shook her head and picked up her book again. "You're a weirdo."

When she and Stacie had arrived at the audition that Saturday afternoon, everyone already there fell silent at the sight of them and their green and silver ties. They really were the only two Slytherins there.

Beca was on the verge of walking out, but Chloe leapt to her feet, clearly so happy to see her.

"Beca!" She yelled, pulling a startled Beca into a hug. "You came!"

"Uhh," Beca said, looking alarmed. "Yeah. You know Stacie, right?"

"Of course!" Chloe said, hugging her too.

Beca glanced around the room and saw a few people she recognised.

There was Chloe's best friend Aubrey, with the self-named Fat Amy and some other Gryffindors who later introduced themselves as Jesse and Flo.

Emily Junk was there, along with two other Hufflepuffs called Jessica and Ashley, who seemed glued at the hip.

Ravenclaw Benjamin ("Call me Benji," he had said, introducing himself) was also there. The other two Ravenclaws was a third year girl called Cynthia-Rose, and a slightly terrifying girl named Lily, who, when Stacie asked what year she was in, mumbled something none of them could quite hear, but which sounded like "I've been here longer than Dumbledore."

Auditioning for Flitwick's choir turned out to be less of an audition, and more of singing the Hogwarts house song so Flitwick knew where to put you.

Beca was put with the altos and they began to sing. By the end of her first rehearsal, Beca wondered why she'd been nervous and reluctant to join. Singing was probably her second favourite thing to do, after flying, and she liked everyone there. They were nerds, sure, but they were kind of awesome nerds.

Also, due to the way Flitwick had arranged them, she had been stood next to Chloe the entire time, which Beca was definitely not complaining about. Being in close proximity to Chloe made her heart speed up and her face feel hot. It was like standing too close to a fire. Beca was afraid she would get burned.

After a few weeks of rehearsing, the group actually started to sound good together.

She especially liked the way hers and Chloe's voices had blended. As if they were made to harmonise with each other. While they both sounded great on their own, as soon as they came together it was like, well, magic.

Rehearsals were put on hold, however, when a member of their choir was found petrified outside of his common room. It was the slightly dorky but very lovable muggle-born Benji, who had impressed them so often with his muggle magic tricks.

People started to take the heir of Slytherin stuff more seriously. People started travelling in groups, shooting dirty looks at any Slytherin they came across.

After a third student was attacked, a Hufflepuff this time, but no one that Beca knew, the atmosphere in the castle was starting to get tense.

Some Slytherins, the ones Beca always tried to avoid, thought the heir was some hero. Someone trying to "cleanse the school of filth". It made Beca feel sick. On Christmas evening, Beca heard Draco Malfoy talk loudly to a stupider than usual Crabbe and Goyle, about how he wish he knew who the heir was.

One morning Beca was standing just outside the Great Hall, looking at the hour glasses containing the house points. Slytherin were in the lead again, but that didn't mean much. They had actually won last year but due to some, as Stacie put it, Dumbledore bullshit, they'd come second to Gryffindor.

To be fair to Harry Potter and his friends, they had stopped Voldemort from getting some important stone. Beca had to admit that they deserved those few hundred points, even though she'd never admit that to her fellow Slytherins.

The thought that he'd been in the school, had actually been in the same room as Beca, still made her feel cold all over.

She was lost in thought, still looking at the constantly changing hour glasses, when she was shoved aside.

"Hey!" Beca said, annoyed as the books she was holding fell out of her arms. One of the Gryffindors who'd pushed her turned around.

"Sorry!" They said, their voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't set Slytherin's monster on me!"

Beca rolled her eyes but didn't respond. It wasn't a fun time to be a Slytherin.

When she crouched to pick up her books, her vision was obscured by red hair.

"Ignore them," Chloe said, helping her pick up her books. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Beca said, taking the books from Chloe. "Thanks."

"They're just idiots. I bet they think Harry Potter's involved too," Chloe said.

"I mean when is he not involved in something? He literally flew a car to school this year."

Chloe laughed. "Right?"

"So, uh, I'll see you round," Beca said, turning and walking into the Great Hall.

"Wait!" Chloe said, catching up to her. "I wanted to tell you something."

"What's up?"

"So I had a detention with Snape last week," she said.

"You had detention? What for?"

"Oh, you know my thing where I ask too many questions and don't realise I'm being annoying?"

"Yeah," Beca said.

"Well Snape didn't appreciate me asking over and over what Slytherin's monster could be. I figured of all the teachers he would know, but he didn't," Chloe said. "Anyway, while I was doing my detention, I found out that there's this book that has every single person who ever went to Hogwarts, and what house they were in. It also shows if they'd ever been a prefect, head boy or girl, or a Quidditch captain."

"So?"

"So you can find out some stuff about your Mom, can't you?" Chloe asked, grinning broadly.

Beca felt a stomach flip and her face flush. "I, um, I don't think I'll be able to find her."

"Why? Do you not even know her name?" Chloe asked, shocked.

"I know her first name," Beca said, "but not her surname." Beca was aware that she could stop right there. She didn't need to say anymore, but for some reason she didn't want to hide anything from Chloe. "But even if I did, she wouldn't be in there."

Chloe looked at her, tilting her head slightly. "Let's go take a walk," she said. "We have a bit of time before class."

"Sure," Beca said, wanting to get away from anyone who could overhear.

It was cold outside, and Chloe linked her arm with Beca's as they walked, huddling close to her.

"Your Mom was a muggle," Chloe said. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," Beca replied.

More silence followed.

"Are you ashamed of that?"

"No!" Beca said, pulling away slightly. "Of course not."

More silence.

"You know who my dad is, right?" Beca asked.

"Of course I do."

"Well… He thinks if it gets out that he had a kid with a muggle, it'll be bad for him. For his reputation. I don't care about his reputation, but I do care about getting through summer break alive," Beca said, sounding bitter. "He made me swear that if anyone asked about her, I'd say she was some witch that I never met."

"I'm sorry Beca," Chloe said. "Did she really die when you were born?"

Beca shrugged. "I think so. That's what he told me, anyway. I think she lived long enough to tell them my dad's name. And my dad came to get me from a foster home when I was a baby. I don't think he actually wanted me, he never loved my Mom or anything, but he said he couldn't have me being raised as a muggle and then coming to Hogwarts with his name."

"That's… That's really sad Beca. I'm sorry," Chloe said, putting an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. "He doesn't sound like a good dad."

"He isn't," Beca said. "He's not a good person."

"All those rumours about him… Are they true?"

"Yeah," Beca said. "I hate having his name. I hate the way people look at me when they hear it. I hate that people assume I'm like him."

"Anyone who gets to know you, knows you aren't like him," Chloe said.

"I guess," Beca said with a sigh. "Come on, we'll be late for our first class."

"Thank you for telling me all this."

"Thank you for listening. But, um, please don't share it with anyone else? If he found out…"

"I won't say a word," Chloe said. "I promise."

[bi-and-happy]

i dare u to answer all the questions on the pride ask game ☺️☺️

Oh boy, here we go!

1. I am bisexual and I use she/her pronouns

2. I first realised I like girls when I was about ten years old, when I started secondary school. Because I also liked boys, I did some classic Repression^TM and convinced myself I was straight, which included a lot of internal homophobia, biphobia and bi erasure. It wasn’t until my second year of uni when I had my first boyfriend that I realised I was never going to have a good and healthy relationship with anyone, let along myself, if I didn’t come to terms with my sexuality and eventually come out

3. I am cisgender and I don’t look particularly androgynous so I have never been misgendered (except one time by a very embarrassed pizza delivery man)

4. The first person I told was my ex-boyfriend (see answer 2!) We had actually been broken up for about 8 months by that point but we were still friends at the time and he’s pansexual, so I knew he’d understand. He was annoyingly nonchalant about it and immediately made inappropriate comments but that actually worked out because we were in an airport so I couldn’t really have an emotional breakdown!

5. When I first came out (and then when I came out to my parents six months later) it was like I’d spent all this time and effort trying to hide this side of myself, and the effort of hiding just got too much. When I told my best friend (who’s a lesbian) it was super chill - I didn’t want it to be a massive deal so I found a time to slip it in, she was very excited that I’d finally told her (she’d known for about two years longer than I did!) and we immediately started talking about all the girls we had crushes on

6. I’ve kind of brushed on some people, but there were two main reactions: “That does not surprise me, I’ve suspected/known for a while” and “Wait? You like men?! I thought you were gay?” The only person who was surprised was my mum. She was very very quiet for a long time (although she gave me a hug so I knew she wasn’t mad) and let my dad do the talking (she did have some not-so-great things to say but it was nothing I hadn’t heard her say before so I had answers prepared). The next day, we had another chat, and she was a bit more positive then. It’s also worth mentioning that this is an ongoing process. I came out to them two and a half years ago now, and we’re still working some things out but we’re in the right direction!

7. Honestly this doesn’t come up very much, mostly because the vast majority of my friends are also bi, and I study performing arts so everyone’s at least a little bit queer. The question I get asked more often is how I can be an openly LGBT+ Christian (which is a whole other conversation which I would be happy to have if anyone is interested!)

8. Flannel. So much flannel. Also birkenstocks in the summer and combat boots (with rainbow laces) in the winter. I sometimes wear dresses (especially in autumn), and I do like pretty dresses/ballgowns when the occasion calls for it (which again, performing arts - sometimes I feel like I live in concert dresses). But my everyday look is fairly semi-butch. I’m working on my top butch energy

9. WHERE TO START. Okay, Jack/Bitty from Check Please; Jack/Ianto from Torchwood; Patsy/Delia from Call the Midwife; Callie/Aaron from the Fosters; Merlin/Arthur from Merlin; Lena/Kara from Supergirl; and my guilty pleasure, Harry/Cedric from Harry Potter (don’t judge me!!)

10. I very rarely leave the house without eyeliner and mascara on, but I rarely wear anything else unless it’s a special occasion. I’m generally of the opinion that if I can start the day with some killer eyeliner wings, you can make that day your bitch

11. Nope! Never experienced dysphoria

12. This isn’t the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, but it is stupid because it was said by a gay men. “All these kids these days, in their LGBTQWXYZ community... [goes on to deliberately misgender people]”. Again, I have lots of thoughts on the dynamics of this which I will not unpack unless someone asks me to.

13. My friends!! I only have about two straight friends. I love all my friends, and I love my queer friends, and I love how we’re always there for each other and we always support each other. Even if everyone needs to stop dating within the friendship group.

14. See answer 12! The politics about different identities really annoy me. Non-binary people exist! Ace and aro people are part of the LGBT+ community! Bi and pan are different but overlapping identities and neither is better or worse than the other! So much infighting! Bi girls will not leave lesbians for a man! So much infighting.

15. I have never been and I’m out of town this year as well and I’m absolutely heartbroken!! I usually spend my summers working on various week-long projects around the country, and they always manage to bugger up any pride plans I had!

16. Ooooh absolute favourite? Probably Stephanie Beatriz. Followed by Kristen Stewart. And Tom Daley.

17. I had a boyfriend for a short time in my second year, we met at uni. Otherwise, I’ve been a single pringle!

18. I HAVE SO MANY. Absolute, complete, 100% favourite? The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. YOU ALL HAVE TO READ THIS OH MY GOODNESS. 

19. I’ve experienced more discrimination as a woman than as a member of the LGBT+ community! That being said, I was bullied in years 7-9 which included lots of calling me a lesbian, because children aren’t creative in their bullying and this was 2006. That definitely taught me to be ashamed of my feelings for girls.

20. Pride!! I love that film. Also Torchwood!

21. I’ll admit I don’t follow that many LGBT+ bloggers/vloggers... sorry!!

22. Queer!!! (And whether or not it should be defined primarily as a slur is also up for debate; again, I’ll expand if anyone wants me to.)

23. Yes yes yes! I have been to a grand total of three gay bars and loved all of them. Especially that last one. Because that was the one where I got drunk and snogged a girl which was great.

24. I’m a cisgender woman, and most of my thoughts about my gender link with my reading into feminist reading and my constant striving to become a better intersectional feminist!

25. I like the thought of having children. I do not like the idea of being pregnant and giving birth. For me, children is always something that comes as part of a relationship and probably marriage (spot the Christian upbringing!). I’m not definite either way; it’s a decision I would want to make with a future partner, as we created a family.

26. Bi people exist! You’re one of them! Stop hating yourself! Stop using your Christian upbringing as an excuse to ignore anything relating to your sexuality!

27. Gender roles are complete bullshit. Every couple is different, the strengths each member of the couple brings will be different, and it’s up to them to find their dynamic, regardless of how closely it resembles traditional gender roles.

28. Not really! Only that since coming out I’ve felt less pressure to be feminine

29. It’s bloody hard. Even if we’re loud and proud and yelling about it and having a good time, each and every one of us has been through shit to get here.

30. Because it’s who I am! I’m proud to be LGBT+ because it’s who I am, and it’s a community that has come so far and is still making incredible strives forward but is subjected to so much pain and yet we keep going. Much love to you all!

Wow, I’m exhausted after that. Feel free to ask any questions about anything I said there! I touched on a lot of stuff. Much love!! xxx

[gratiasancti]

100 PERSONAL QUESTIONS

because @ineffablequestion​ decided to really put my patience to the test today . not that i mind , ily .

1. What is your middle name ?

maria 

2. How old are you ?

23 as of right now !

3. When is your birthday?

oct. 19th

4. What is your zodiac sign?

libra waddup

5. What is your favorite color?

i don’t really have one ? muted colours probably

6. What’s your lucky number?

again, can’t say i have one but maybe 29

7. Do you have any pets?

a dod and a horse

8. Where are you from?

finland / uk

9. How tall are you?

174 cm

10. What shoe size are you?

eu 39-40

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

like seven, if you don’t count my collection of riding shoes and boots. oxfords, brogues, wellies, trainers, and the rest are probably heels. as for riding boots, a lot.

12. What was your last dream about?

that i was late from work and got thrown in a tar pit because of it. and then i sold my old history teacher 500€ worth of alcohol and lottery tickets.

13. What talents do you have?

none?? unlimited sarcasm, idk

14. Are you psychic in any way?

i’m not sure if i believe in this stuff

15. Favorite song?

honestly, anything from hippo campus or glass animals.

16. Favorite movie?

the grand budapest hotel

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

someone who counteracts some of my anxiety and excitedness with a calm and, when needed, firm character but is still funny and can be themselves. preferably someone who i feel is my intellectual equal, and we can share everything with each other. maybe a bit older than myself, but not by much. other than that, i really don’t care.

18. Do you want children?

currently, i can’t see myself ever having kids. just doesn’t seem like my thing. especially babies. maybe adopting or fostering could be an option, but only if i was sure i could give the child a good home.

19. Do you want a church wedding?

i don’t think i want to get married

20. Are you religious?

not particularly

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

maaaaaaany times. multiple riding accidents, broken bones, a car crash. then just being an idiot in general. and chronic back problems.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

apart from once forgetting to pay for the underground and getting an 80€ fine, no.

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

i’ve met and had dinner with two different finnish presidents and some other ‘upper class’ people but other than that, no. 

24. Baths or showers?

one of those rain shower things

25. What color socks are you wearing?

i have no socks !!!

26. Have you ever been famous?

uhhhh not in the literal sense of the word but i’ve been infamous at school when i was like 15. made a meme of one of our teachers that went low key viral in our city.

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

definitely not in the hollywood sense of things. 

28. What type of music do you like?

a lot of things. anything, really, depending on the time of day and if i’m feeling particularly emo.

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

that’s like the only type of swimming finnish people partake in. naked in the sauna, naked in the lake/ocean. so yes, multiple times a year jhdsnhb

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

currently like five

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

either on my back or on my stomach. depends on what place hurts that day lmao.

32. How big is your house?

closer to 400 m^2 . i still live with my parents but will move into my own flat in six months, once it’s ready. that’s going to be appx 70 m^2.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

i know its a bad habit but i often dont have breakfast. if i do it's usually fruit and yoghurt or some toast.

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

yes

35. Have you ever tried archery?

yes. fun fact; my cousin has won the european championchip ( in some form of archery idk ) like twice , i think. 

36. Favorite clean word?

defenestrate

37. Favorite swear word?

fuck. i use it Too Much™

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

can’t remember the exact amount of hours but we were sailing and our shifts got messed up to the point where i had either not slept at all or slept so little in like four days i was genuinely hallucinating. almost jumped into the sea because i thought i dropped my life vest,,, which i was wearing.

39. Do you have any scars?

a few. dumbest one probably when i rode in my shorts but used a saddle and rubbed the skin off of my calf. also from hay work, those little dots that look almost like moles.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

not that i know of

41. Are you a good liar?

yes, unfortunately. it’s a bad habit in the sense that i tell a lot of white lies when i could genuinely tell the truth with no consequence. like, it would be the one and the same.

42. Are you a good judge of character?

also yes. i’ve seen some shit. also i have surprisingly good people skills.

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

i can speak english in my normal accent which is kind of queen’s english (?) upper class idk, then in world’s english ( so basically no accent / neutral ) and then in finnish (rally) english .  i can also speak swedish with a rikssvenska (standard swedish ???) accent and then finlandssvenska which is finnish swedish (and an actual thing lmao). also i can butcher a norwegian or danish accent in swedish if i really try. my finnish is very neutral, but it does vary a bit depending on what city i’m in.

oh, and also a shitty southern american accent. 

44. Do you have a strong accent?

if i let it shine through, yes, but i tend toward world english because anything else scares finns. but when i speak finnish (which is most of the time) i don’t really have an accent. maybe you can hear that i’m not 100% finnish but that’s about it.

45. What is your favorite accent?

i don’t really have one ! all accents are really fascinating.

46. What is your personality type?

entj-a

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

i have a few expensive dresses, and then of course my riding clothes which cost ridiculous amounts of money because fuck everyone who likes horses, i guess. like excuse me but why is it normalised that you pay over 1000€ for a helmet??? anything less and you’re a peasant.

48. Can you curl your tongue?

mmmmyeah. 

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

innie!

50. Left or right handed?

pretty much ambidextrous, though i prefer to write with my left but do everything else mostly with my right. my handwriting doesn’t differ too much from left to write.

51. Are you scared of spiders?

yes. ew. and we’re lucky to only have tiny ones in finland !

52. Favorite food?

ummmmm. currently carelian pie maybe?? idk such a good snack.

53. Favorite foreign food?

squints??? sushi????

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

depends. often too lazy to clean but incredibly stressed and uncomfortable when its messy. meticulous about all the wrong things.

55. Most used phrase?

either some form of keysmash or “FUCK”. also in finnish either “voi jumalauta” or “voi saatana” which both basically translate to “jesus fucking christ”.

56. Most used word?

also fuck. this really must say something about me smdh.

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

really depends. sometimes 10 minutes, sometimes two hours. on a normal day w/ shower and moderate make up, 15-25 minutes.

58. Do you have much of an ego?

depends really. i hope i don’t!

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

whomst the FUCK bites lollipops ?!?!?!

60. Do you talk to yourself?

i’ve only recently started. it’s terrifying.

61. Do you sing to yourself?

when driving if i’m listening to music, yeah

62. Are you a good singer?

honestly, no clue. i don’t really sing in front of people so i haven’t gotten opinions.

63. Biggest Fear?

failure.

64. Are you a gossip?

not about my friends, ever. but i will definitely listen to any tea you want to spill.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

idk does kingsman count as dramatic?? the first one was hilarious.

66. Do you like long or short hair?

both have their perks!

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

LMAO i can name like 3 if i really try.

68. Favorite school subject?

history, english lang & lit, economics.

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

extrovert but i get tired easily

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

yes ! we go to the maldives once in a while, because finland doesn’t offer much in terms of diving sites.

71. What makes you nervous?

not a lot of things? i guess some responsibilities. things left for me to do even if someone else was supposed to do them.

72. Are you scared of the dark?

a dark room ? no. a dark forest at midnight ? hell yess. finnish winter darkness is terrifying simply because its so depressing. seasonal depression is real yall.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

depends. if it’s a trivial mistake and they haven’t asked to be corrected, no. if it makes me or someone else feel bad or just makes any situation worse, then yes. but never unkindly.

74. Are you ticklish?

YES. ugh

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

no. i can’t recall doing so, at least. but i have participated in spreading them.

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

yes. at work a couple of times simply out of necessity and also when i took part in MEP. was committee president twice and president of the general assembly once. though idk if that counts since i was like 17 and its all p much play pretend.

oh! and also when i captain our boat. but again, idk if that counts.

77. Have you ever drank underage?

yeah, ever since i was like 16 :/

78. Have you ever done drugs?

no, and never will. not my thing !!

79. Who was your first real crush?

probably a boy from class. i can’t remember, really. i’ve never been too  ‘romantically inclined’ i  suppose.

80. How many piercings do you have?

just my ears, once.

81. Can you roll your Rs?

almost every r in the finnish language is technically rolled so yeah. i feel bad for those finnish people who cant !! makes everything so hard.

82. How fast can you type?

according to this thing 75 words per minute on my first try, so idk how accurate that is.

83. How fast can you run?

not fast. i  hate running, and am very out of practice. 

84. What color is your hair?

idk ? like, light brown ?

85. What color are your eyes?

again, idk. blue/green/grey

86. What are you allergic to?

dogs, cats, birch, and almost anything that flowers in the spring jshbdsjh

87. Do you keep a journal?

not a journal per se but i have a ‘little black book’ which i keep rather meticulously about my thoughts on the day, important things i need to remember, my expenses etc. a habit inherited from my dad. i’ve gone through like six of these in the past few years.

88. What do your parents do?

my mum is a mayor and my dad is a ceo

89. Do you like your age?

yeah !

90. What makes you angry?

injustice.

91. Do you like your own name?

yes !

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

ksjdsjhb no. at this rate i’d end up naming a child crowley or sum shit

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

i don’t want kids but if i did gender would be a non issue

94. What are you strengths?

lmao i have good people skills, work well under pressure, get along with everyone, am determined and ?? a good leader??? idk

95. What are your weaknesses?

i take on too much responsibility, i have anxiety and depression, i get frustrated at my own failures, i’m very self-critical and unforgiving. also no self-control when it comes to rp.

96. How did you get your name?

i think somewhere from my dad’s side, not entirely sure.

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

possibly? not sure. but fun fact! a great great grandmother (? or something of the sorts) from my mother’s side actually survived the sinking of the titanic.

98. Do you have any scars?

wasn’t this asked already?

99. Color of your bedspread?

this blue mandala like pattern idk

100. Color of your room?

white and a very mellow blue

[thepatricktreestump]

pride month asks!

some questions and answers about my experience with LGBTQ+

1.       What do you identify as and what are your pronouns? 

I identify as bisexual and genderfluid, so my pronouns regularly change from she/her to he/him.

2.      How did you discover your sexuality, tell your story?

I have always been a huge ally to the LGBTQ+ community, but one day I was stepping out of the shower, and kind of thinking to myself what the difference between having sex with a guy and having sex with a girl was. After contemplation, I thought to myself that they really weren’t all that different to me, and I’d probably enjoy having sex with a girl just as much as having sex with a guy. I researched online a little bit, and I figured out that yeah, I’m probably bi. Especially after I fell in love with both Brendon Urie and his wife Sarah, I was pretty damn sure I was bi.

3.      Have you experienced being misgendered? What happened and how did you overcome it?

Sometimes I do, but it honestly doesn’t bother me too much because I come from a very conservative, religious, small town background. I grew up in a private Catholic school where everyone is Republican and nobody even knows what being gay is, much less a different gender. So I’m kind of used to putting up a façade for others. As I graduated and moved away from my hometown, things have been much better, and by politely correcting others, I’m able to be confident in who I am as well as educate the people around me.

4.      Who was the first person you told, how did they react?

Oh god, haha. I distinctly remember that night when I knew I was going to tell my best friend I was genderfluid. I was so nervous and scared, I just sort of blurted it out over text, in all caps, like “I’M GENDERFLUID” and then I kind of panicked, so I proceeded to send her about a hundred Hamilton gifs to cover up what I had typed out and sent. Although it was awkward in the moment, we both laugh about it to this day, and she’s been so accepting and kind to me ever since that moment.

5.      Describe what it was like coming out, what did you feel?

For my friends, it was a lot of anxiety and doubt. For my parents, fear and chaos. My friends didn’t understand, they thought it was a disease of some sort, and actually a lot of them stopped talking to me. Again, conservative religious background, but still, no excuse. I grew up in a very abusive household, and it wasn’t my choice to come out. My therapist had forced me to tell my parents in a session and it was an absolute mess. Coming out wasn’t the best experience, especially as a freshman in high school.

6.      If you’re out, how did your parents/guardians/friends react?

I kind of explained above, but basically not so well. My dad went absolutely off on me, and said some of the most horrible things I have ever been told in my life. He said that I was dragging everyone I knew towards hell, that what I was is unmoral, unnatural, and unnormal, acted like I was some sort of monster, said it was extremely difficult to even be related to me, and that I was corrupting his family and disrespecting his household. It was a miserable time for me, but through music, I was able to write a song about it that helped me cope.

7.      What is one question you hate people asking about your sexuality?

A lot of people assume that because I’m bisexual, I’m some sort of fetish they can use to fulfill their dirty fantasies. I’m always asked to be a part of a couple’s threesome. I am told that the only reason I’m bi is because I want double the opportunities to have sex. It’s ridiculous and disgusting. I’m bi because I like people. Not because I like sex.

8.     Describe the style of clothing that you most often wear.

I really fucking love beanies! Most of the time I read that’s the essential clothing item for all genderfluid people, which makes me laugh, because it’s true. Combat boots or converse, black jeans, a band t-shirt, a sports bra or binder, a jean jacket, and a beanie is always my go-to outfit. So much so, to the point my sister told me that every time I go out in public I’m always wearing the same thing, which kind of makes me laugh.

9.      Who are your favourite lgbt+ ships?

I don’t know if you’ve ever read the magna, Tamen de Gushi, but I absolutely love it! That lesbian couple is everything! I also really love Shane Dawson and Ryland Adams, of course. Captain Holt from Brooklyn Nine Nine and his husband is amazing. Elijah Daniels and Sam also make me super fucking happy.

10.  What does makeup mean to you? Do you wear any?

Growing up as a theater kid, I’ve always seen makeup as accentuated and over the top. I only ever wore makeup on stage, and even then, it was special effects type stuff, zombies and clowns and shit. Once I hit puberty though, my mom would force me to wear makeup because she said it would make me beautiful. I hated it. She would force me to put on makeup before I left the door and it made me have horrible self image issues. As I grew older, I found a love for makeup through beauty gurus and drag queens, and I sometimes dabble in it either for fun or for special events like prom or fancy dinners. I always prefer no makeup though, I feel like to me, wearing it is just hiding behind a mask.

11.   Do you experience dysphoria? If so, how does that affect you?

ALL THE GODDAMN FUCKING TIME. Since I’ve gotten my haircut, a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. Wearing a binder also helps so much! However, I still really want to start T and I think that will help a lot. Dysphoria affects me in so many ways, whether my self confidence or my body image, my anxiety and my mood, etc., a lot of it depends on how comfortable I am in my own skin.

12.  What is the stupidest thing you’ve heard said about the lgbt+ community?

Homophobic people are probably the stupidest people I’ve ever met in my life, to be honest. I’ve heard thousands of dumb things come from their mouths. I think the most outrageous myth I’ve heard is probably that being gay is a disease, and that simply being around another gay person will make you gay. Like who the fuck comes up with this shit? Smh.

13.  What’s your favourite thing about the lgbt+ community?

How creative we are. We’re resilient and outspoken and passionate, but most of all, so talented. The queer community is full of inventors, politicians, emperors, artists, directors, actors, musicians, and more. It’s gorgeous just how much we are capable of.

14.  What’s your least favourite thing about the lgbt+ community?

The discrimination breaks my heart. The fact that we are terrified to so much as hold hands with the one we love in public. To be beaten, tortured, and killed simply for who we are. That is what hurts me the most.

15.  Have you ever been to your cities pride event? Why or why not?

No, I find it sort of ironic every time there is a pride event I happen to have a concert on that day. Once, a Panic! concert, which honestly is sort of the equivalent of Pride. We went and there were so many LGTBQ+ flags and people and it was so gorgeous. I have attended pride prom once though, and it was probably the most fun I had ever had in a really long time.

16.  Who is your favourite lgbt+ Icon/Advocate/Celebrity?

I absolutely adore Miles McKenna. He has helped me so much in finding myself and accepting who I am. He’s such a huge spokesperson for the community and I am so grateful to have him in my life.

17.   Have you been in a relationship and how did you meet?

I’ve been in several relationships, surprisingly, through parties and discussions and friends. My s.o. right now I met through high school, which was crazy in itself, but we’ve been dating for almost two years now and I love them to death.

18.  What is your favourite lgbt+ book?

Beautiful Music for Ugly Children is one of my favorite books ever and it’s about being FTM trans and I love it so much wow.

19.  Have you ever faced discrimination? What happened?

So very much. After coming out to one of my best friends, she stared at me, disgusted and went “well don’t try to have sex with me or anything” and then proceeded to never talk to me again. I’ve received dirty looks and glares, been misgendered on purpose, and even received death threats. It’s horrible.

20. Your Favorite lgbt+ movie or show?

I love American Horror Story so much because of just how much representation it gives our community and how natural they make it seem! And of course, “Love, Simon” was an amazing movie that made me cry like a baby.

21.  Who are some of your favourite lgbt+ bloggers?

I don’t really know about bloggers, but definitely Youtubers! Shane Dawson, Miles Chronicles, Thomas Sanders, Ally Hills, Anthony Amorim, Elijah Daniels, Elle Mills, Garrett Watts, Sam Collins, Todrick Hall, and Trevor Moran are a couple of my favorites.

22. Which lgbt+ slur do you want to reclaim?

I don’t think queer should be a slur. I think queer is a form of self expression and an umbrella term for the community, and I believe many other LGBTQ+ members agree. It’s a word that we take great pride in rather than shame or discrimination.

23. Have you ever gone to a gay bar, or a drag show, how was it?

No, but god I would love to.

24. How do you self-identify your gender, and what does that mean to you?

For me, it’s simply just a part of who I am. Just like the weather, my gender simply changes and I adapt to it. It makes me comfortable in my own skin and proud of who I am. I wouldn’t change being genderfluid for the world.

25. Are you interested in having children? Why or why not?

I fucking hate the idea of pushing a human being out of my vagina, and I would probably want anything else in the entire world other than giving birth. Being pregnant for nine months sounds absolutely miserable and dysphoric, and I cannot even imagine going through labor. However, I would like to have kids, just simply through foster care or adoption, never like my own biological children. There are more than enough kids who need good homes who already exist and I’m more than happy to give it to them.

26. What identity advice would you give your younger self?

You aren’t alone and there are so many people just like you. Your parents do not own you and cannot tell you who you are supposed to be. You are you.

27.  What do you think of gender roles in relationships?

Gender roles are complete bullshit. Let a guy be a stay at home dad. Let a woman be the working one. Everyone should have responsibilities regardless of their gender. If there’s dirty dishes, do the fucking dishes, don’t wait for your spouse to get home to do them. It’s absolutely ridiculous, really. Just do your part in the relationship.

28. Anything else you want to share about your experience with gender?

It breaks my heart how much pain and suffering one has to go through just to be themselves, especially for women and trans people. It’s horrible.

29. What is something you wish people know about being lgbt+?

It’s natural! It’s comfortable! And it’s normal! Being oneself is just part of life, there’s no need to have shame or guilt about it. Respect someone the way you wish you would be accepted and loved.

30. Why are proud to be lgbt+?

We have worked so fucking hard to be recognized for who we are. There’s still so much we need to do though, and we aren’t ever going to stop until every single one of our siblings gain the love and respect they deserve.

[hencethebravery]

TITLE: Bad Vibes (1/1)

SUMMARY: Emma had tried to forget about her time with Neal for years, so it comes as something of a nasty shock when she suddenly finds herself unable to take a quick ride in her own car without thinking about all the unfortunate, emotionally traumatizing sex she’s had in it.

NOTES: For @stardustednymph for the Hub Secret Santa! I profusely apologize about the lateness of this. It had started out as one thing, and then became something entirely different after engaging in some life-changing conversation with @justanotherwannabeclassic and @distant-rose. I hope you like it! xo

This is a canon-divergent fic that takes place sometime during that S4 hiatus where most of us can agree Emma and Killian boned for the first time. As such, there is some mild sexual content.

Rather predictably (and not without a somewhat inevitable feeling of frustration), Emma Swan was one of those people who had never put much stock in the notion of “vibes.” She had a “freaking superpower,” according to Ruby, which allowed her to suss out the truth about people, but as soon as Ruby suggested that the same might be true of certain places, Emma had chuckled, as if it was some unheard of thing.

“Man, you can be the absolute worst sometimes, do you know that?”

Ruby often spoke in vaguely mean, hyperbolic jest; all the same, it could occasionally needle Emma, as she was, admittedly, one of the most sensitive assholes on the planet, and should anyone discover the truth she would, almost certainly, lose all physical form and melt back into the earth as God intended.

“Considering the fact that my ‘superpower’ has a near 100% success rate, I tend to think it’s more reliable than whatever you’re talking about.”

“Ya know, like, energy,” Ruby continues, attempting to drunkenly elaborate, “sometimes you just walk into a place and—” shuddering, “...you just know something fucked up happened there.”

“Do you?” Emma asks, both inebriated and skeptical in equal measure.

“Yes, bitch!” Ruby laughs, giving Emma a light punch to the shoulder. “It’s a thing. I swear.”

In the harsh light of painful, sobering day, she could silently admit to herself, that yeah, maybe Ruby had something like a point. Especially when she considered all those foster homes she’d been dumped in—those thin, foul-smelling mattresses she had slept on in miserable, state-funded orphanages.

Who slept here before me, she’d think, her small, frightened mind reeling. Were they scared? Were they here long? And would they, she anxiously wondered, pass their bad luck on to me?

The older and more stubborn Emma grew, the more her belief changed from, “I’m cursed, it’s hopeless” to, “Life is chaos, I’m gonna do whatever the hell I want and screw the rest.” So she did have to admit, somewhat reluctantly, that at one point in her life she had been something of a believer. When you’re a kid, the idea that the universe might have a plan for you could be comforting, but as an adult it just made you kind of angry and helpless, and if there was one thing Emma absolutely despised, it was helplessness.

“Do you think that a place can feel a certain way?”

Emma loved the diner when it was empty. Granny had, thankfully, after a very irritating half-hour grumbling about wanting to go to bed, given Emma the key and told her to lock up when they were done (not without a pointed and frankly, unnecessary, raise of her eyebrow). She relished the lack of eyes in her proximity; the idea that most of the town was asleep, that it was just her, Killian, and the soft sound of their voices.

“I rather tend to think so,” he replies after a moment’s silence, “why do you ask, love?”

“Just something Ruby said the other day.”

“Ah,” he says with a knowing smirk, “she can be a rather… creative woman, can she not?”

“It’s just—” she starts, trying to find the right words to explain her own muddled thoughts, which seem to have become more and more contradictory these days. “How is it that I could see, and—and know about so many improbable… things and still find it within myself to be so… so—”

“Stubborn?” he interrupts, still with the grin she simultaneously adored and despised.

“Ugh,” she groans, smacking a hand over her eyes (and hopefully her flushed cheeks).

“None of that now, Swan,” he says gently, tugging her hand away from her face, “you are far too hard on yourself.”

“You’d just think I’d have gotten over myself by now.”

“While I might not know precisely what she said, I suppose I can hazard a guess,” he surmises, taking a healthy sip of his coffee.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Clearly.”

“Shut up,” she laughs, her heart growing lighter in the face of his indomitable optimism when it came to her. Lord knows he had a dark streak, but should she ever dare to fall down the rabbit hole herself, it was as if he became temporarily possessed by Snow White Brain (if not without a healthy dose of reality that she treasured).

“You’re an obstinate woman to be sure,” he begins with a touch more sincerity, “but never let it be said that it was one of the things to dislike about you.”

Finding the prospect of gracefully accepting a compliment too daunting, she could only scoff. “You mean there are things to dislike about me?”

“Swan.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she blushes, pushing some errant hairs behind her ear. “I just can’t help but think that I’m making things harder than they need to be.”

“Well—”

“Shut. Up.”

In a manner befitting a man as absurdly eloquent as Killian, he allows their mutual laughter to dissolve before blindsiding her with a more serious comment, her name falling off his tongue with a stern gentleness.

“Emma, any halfway intelligent person would be able to understand why. It’s not shocking that you might be slow to act in matters of faith.”

“Even after all this time?”

“What, two years, Swan? If that?”

She shrugs. Like Ruby, she knew that he had a point, logically, and in contrast to the first 28 years of her life, it hadn’t been that long since she had learned about this whole other world; this whole other life, but she couldn’t turn off the part of her brain that was insisting otherwise—the part that kept replaying Ruby’s throwaway comment over and over again.

“Hey,” he says softly, his hand coming to rest atop hers, “try not to fret, Swan, you’ll get there.”

“Promise?”

He sits back, a finger running back and forth across his chest. “Cross my heart, darling.”

With her multiple insecurities momentarily quelled, she was finally able to focus on the topic of places and how they “felt.” Granted, most of the places in town were relatively new to her, and she wasn’t planning on going back to her apartment in Boston anytime soon, which left her with one conceivable “place” in which she might test Ruby’s theory. Arguably once considered to be her home, her car had seen more of her life than most people, and as she sat in the driver’s seat one particularly cold morning, her lips turning blue waiting for the heat to kick in, she found herself thinking of only one, miserable thing: She’d had truly regrettable sex with Neal in this car.

Her brain couldn’t be counted on for much, but at least it could be relied upon to obsess on one seemingly inconsequential detail until she felt physically sick about it. It was becoming nearly impossible to drive a few minutes to the store without thinking about her ill-advised sexcapades in the back or front seat of her car. She’d been intimate with other people aside from Neal, but considering how important he was to the story of her life—the amount of pain he ultimately caused, it was those particular trysts that seemed to have indefinitely baptized the thing in her mind.

Killian’s shoved half a glazed donut into his face when she says it.

“So, I’m pretty sure my car has bad sex vibes.”

He coughs, as elegantly as he can, obviously, and spares her a droll look of surprise.

“Excuse me?”

“Remember when were talking about how places can feel a certain way?” She pauses, maybe he needs more of a reminder. “I had a... mild existential crisis?”

“...Sure.”

“I was thinking about it and I think my car might be one of those things.”

“Do you mean to tell me you were able to… in that… contraption? My God, Swan, the sheer… agility that would require.”

Was he being serious? “You’re a pirate.”

“What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Clearing her throat, she feels herself begin to fidget and wonders if she hasn’t gone horribly wrong somewhere. “Anyway, you can, and I have, and it was with Neal, multiple times, and now it’s the only goddamn thing I can think about.”

It’s only after she’s brought it up that she feels mild regret. After all, they’ve both refrained from engaging in that particular act themselves, and now here she is, talking about sex with her problematic ex. They are friends, right? They can talk about stuff like this.

At his silence, she flushes, tugs her sleeves over wrists. “Sorry, if that makes you uncomfortable, I just—yeah.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I just, um, I don’t, uh—”

For someone who often struggled to keep his thoughts to himself, it was somehow both worrying and charming that he seemed to be so at a loss for what to say. Probably struggling with not wanting to suggest or imply sex with him, while also being sensitive to the possibility that it’s not an appropriate conversational segue and if anyone is going to be mentioning sex-having in this relationship it should be her, and the poor guy can’t even seem to finish the donut he’d been so excited to eat only moments before.

“I know that you probably have some gentlemanly idea in your head of how… ‘us,’ will be,” her words come out in a rush, and she is aghast at the sudden onset of loudmouth bravery she seems to be conjuring, “but I really need to get this car thing taken care of. I have too much going on to not be able to drive my car.”

He looks somewhat offended, which, rightfully so. “How romantic, Swan.”

“No, that’s not—” she tugs on her hair, suddenly not so proud of the straightforwardness she had just miraculously exhibited. “I promise that’s not the only reason, I want to take that step with you, but ya know, we’re not like… blushing virgins. It doesn’t need to be…”

“...Special? Again, Swan, never have I felt so spectacularly wooed.”

This was not going the way she had intended, and with every word that passes through her lips she feels herself sinking further and further away from the point, which is that—

“The Bug is important to me. You’re important to me. I want one of the few places I’ve called mine to be… mine.”

A gentle look of understanding finally crosses his features and she breathes a quiet sigh of relief. Of the many traits she’s come to admire about Killian Jones, his ability to translate unintelligible Emma speak is one of her very favorites.

They make the somewhat treacherous journey to a small clearing that overlooks the town. Not many people know of it, and she feels confident that they won’t be stumbled upon in one of the absolutely nosiest towns on the planet. It’s a bit difficult to get started at first, not that lack of passion was ever one of their problems, but the whole idea of driving somewhere specifically to do it creates all kinds of awkward roadblocks to the moment itself.

It’s only after she’s climbed into his lap and accidentally tapped the horn with her foot that they manage to laugh and forget about any lingering awkwardness that comes naturally with first times. She thanks God and whomever else might be listening that he’s modernized his wardrobe, if only for the fact that getting him out of leather pants in such a small space was unimaginable.

Her heart races in a pleasant way she had forgotten was possible, and despite the fact that she can recall this kind of agile maneuvering being easier as a younger person, she can’t remember it being quite this good. Clumsiness and all.

By some miracle of physiology she does manage to speak while he’s still inside of her, which is, given the impending orgasm she’s about to have, astounding.

“N-not as difficult as you were imagining, Captain?”

And, Jesus, she needs to start exercising more. She should not be this breathless. What kind of overcome, fairytale princess is she? There’s a slight lift of his hips in response, and she curls her fingers tighter, somehow, into the fabric of his leather-clad shoulders.

“Not quite so,” breathing the words against her neck, his own fingers applying a bit more pressure to the bare skin of her waist.

In the fleeting slowness before she’s totally lost her senses, she manages to open her eyes long enough to catch a glimpse of the empty backseat—impossibly neat, when years before it had been filled with blankets, canned goods, spare cash—Neal. It seems to her a vision, a brief moment of clarity in which she watches the dregs of her home; her youth, disappear. She realizes, with the smell of Killian overwhelming her every thought, the feel of his hand on her skin, that she has somehow forgotten what Neal had felt like, and suddenly her past is precisely that. Past.

“Alright?” he whispers, his hand coming up to give her neck a tender squeeze.

“Better,” she answers, sleepy and smiling, wondering in the back of her head if she can convince him to be a little less chivalrous for the moment and finish. She’s actually surprised at herself, most of the time she couldn’t really be bothered either way. But he knows what she means to say before she says it, he says what she needs to hear before she even realizes she needs to hear it, and never in her life has she been made to feel this precious—not to be that person, but… if she were to need a metaphor, she imagines it’d have to be something along the lines of treasure hunting, which feels lazy, but it’s not as if she’s ever claimed to be a poet.

She moves, rising and falling, pulling his ear lobe between her teeth, and she feels his chivalry slip with a satisfying gasp.

“So, you might’ve had a point.”

Unlike Killian, Ruby rather inelegantly chokes on the frozen margarita she’s been rapidly sucking through her straw as if someone was about to steal it from her.

“Uh… about?”

“How places have certain vibes.”

“Oh?” Ruby asks, looking unbearably smug, “What changed your mind?”

“I don’t know,” she answers innocently, her mind straying to fogged up windows and stiff necks. “I just gave it some thought and decided that maybe you weren’t full of total shit.”

“Wow, thank you so much for your generosity, Emma. I’m sure that was very hard for you.”

The two of them laugh, and drink, and Emma is reminded once again of how grateful she is to have friends. To have a night out. To have a home to go back to, and a warm bed to sleep in. She thinks about the yellow Bug parked outside—all of its lovely dents and scratches; it’s small imperfections that have led her here, to this place, and these people. And now, when she looks in the rearview mirror it’s not the pangs of first love she feels, but the warm, blossoming hope of the future.

[libraford]

I take school shootings very personally. Here is why. 

I was 13 when Columbine happened. Everyone I know was affected in some way by this because it changed how we talked about a number of subjects- guns, cliques, safety, mental health, culture. 

Most people I knew had access to a gun. That’s the way it was  where I lived. If you lived in the city or out in the country- it was just something you had. 

Except for my family. We had a beebee gun that we used to shoot cans because that was kind of fun. I once made a bow and arrow out of stuff in our backyard, maybe that counts? It didn’t shoot very far, so I don’t think it does. 

We just... it was never a priority for our family to have a firearm. If we had an issue with a neighbor, we tried to talk through it or we dealt with it through passive-aggressive snark.

We never needed one. And maybe that puts us in a position of privilege, but that’s not the point of this. 

I was a weird kid. I was awkward and obnoxious and people were already making rude rumors about me. So I wasn’t very social. 

So Columbine happened. One of the major narratives was that the shooters were social outcasts and that teachers and parents should keep an eye on children that display ‘anti-social behaviors.’

Now, people had a very different definition of ‘anti-social.’ Anti-social behaviors, in a textbook sense, are behaviors that negatively impact other people. But people thought it meant ‘likes to be alone, or is alone, often.’ 

You know that trope where like... a person formerly without power becomes powerful and now people respect that person out of fear and it sets off a whole introspective journey of ‘are you my friend because you like me, or are you just afraid of what I’ll do if you cross me?’

We didn’t get that far. 

Despite being more or less pacifist, it was rumored that I was going to be the next school shooter. Because... y’know... I didn’t have a lot of friends. And also people threw rocks at me frequently. So obviously I was the next murderer. 

That’s a horrible rumor in itself, and people kept it going for the next five years. 

Counselor visits, people not coming to my defense when I was getting bullied, the bullying actually got worse because kids wanted to see how far they could push me because kids are not great at self-preservation. I already didn’t have a lot of friends. Some that I did have pulled away because they didn’t want to be involved. 

It was awful. I was alone and confused and I couldn’t really talk about it with anyone because opening up about things only seemed to be getting me in more trouble.  

I was so happy to go to a college where the rumors wouldn’t follow me, but it prevented me from making friends in the first few months there. 

This stuff carries through a kid’s life. For a long time, I thought that one day I actually would snap and kill someone because it was what I’d been told for half my life. 

Now I am not saying that this is the only reason I’m upset by the tragedy. I am upset because it is absolutely horrific. 

But I can’t imagine that my case was entirely unique. I can’t help but feel that, every time there’s a fresh school shooting, there is some odd kid with a budding anxiety disorder or depression or any number of pre-diagnostic mental illness who is getting the ass-end of some fresh bullying because that’s the excuse we give each and every mass murderer. 

They were mentally ill. They were a crazy person. They needed mental help. This isn’t anyone’s fault. If only they’d seen the signs. We just need to look for the signs next time. 

Suppress your symptoms. No one needs to know you’re mentally ill. Asking for help will only get you in trouble. Keep it inside. Don’t tell anyone you’re being torn apart. 

This is what we tell them when we say that the shooter was just a crazy person, and then don’t follow up with resources for people with mental disorders. We aren’t people, we’re an excuse. 

If you’re going to blame it on mental illness, I had better see you advocating comprehensive, intersectional, affordable, and accessible therapy. I had better see higher pay for teachers and school counselors, who see young people struggling with mental illness every day. I had better see measures to improve the quality of life for LGBTQIA+ children, foster children, and children living in poverty. 

Believe me: the list is very long. You don’t have to do all of them, but so far I’ve barely seen any of them happen. The bar for change is very low.  

We’re not your get-out-of-jail-free card. 

We’re humans and we don’t deserve this. 

[ineffablecolors]

You Plugged in the Lights (a NWIH story)

So this is a warm little Christmas-y piece which you can totally just read without much ado.

It is also an epilogue to a two-year-old fic named No Way In Hell which I promise gets kinda good around the 5th chapter and which still has my heart and which I might start reposting on AO3 soon.

It is also and most importantly a present for the absolutely wonderful and incredibly thoughtful and generous @shady-swan-jones who remembers stuff I’ve written ages ago (see: No Way In Hell) and seems to still hold love for them - I’m so sorry this wasn’t ready for Christmas but hey, managing before New Year’s earns me some points, right?

You Plugged in the Lights (a No Way In Hell story);  ~ 3, 000 words; FF.NET || (hopefully) soon on AO3

All her life Emma’s Christmases have been marked by one defining characteristic – noise.

Christmases in group homes were loud with the screams of a multitude of kids, the yells, the trampling feet, the fights over the few good toys that people had dropped off – more often to make themselves feel good rather than the children.

Christmases in foster homes were loud with the shouting of foster parents, the never-ending arguments, the pointed hints about how grateful one should be there – an indebtedness that made the hardest of cookies even harder to swallow.

Christmases in bars were loud with the merriment of other people, the clanking of forks on plates, the jokes and conversations that you were decidedly not a part of – the very invisibility of those that were there to be pretty, to bring plates and take them away, to get up on stage and entertain, to welcome, to clean up after – never to be part of it all.

Christmases at LA wanna-be parties were loud with the laughter of people you didn’t know, the compliments of people whose opinion you didn’t care about, the seizing glances and occasional glares of people who didn’t care for you – the fakeness of it all.

Christmases at Hollywood supposedly-made-it parties were loud with the expectations of glamour and glitter, the necessary witticisms, the inescapable over-the-top flattery, the eventual scheming for the awards season – the anonymity of the dazzling crowd.

 But her first Christmas with Killian is quiet.

David takes Mary-Margaret to visit his mother without his usual apprehension that Emma will be spending the holiday with a bottle of wine and some store-bought slices of turkey. It is the first time since he became her agent that he doesn’t try to convince her to make an appearance at one of the multitude of parties she has been invited to.

It’s been a little over half a year since Killian’s accident and neither of them has shown much interest in rejoining the world of flashing lights and black-tie celebrations.

It is the first time she realizes exactly how much tact David actually has sometimes, definitely not the first she sees how much he always looks out for her – for the both of them now.

Ruby is a bit harder to shake. But her obvious desire to take Belle somewhere high in the mountains with plenty of reasons for them to snuggle together under warm blankets and warmer caresses is… well, obvious.

And Gold’s secretary that came forth with all her knowledge and unexpected bravery and solidified their case while winning the heart of the plaintiff’s sister is a whole other story-

And Emma can’t help but be glad. She knows that Killian loves Ruby with all his heart but sometimes… sometimes she can tell how hard he tries around his sister, how desperately he fights to go back to someone he was before he lost his hand and then even further back – before he knew loss at all.

And much as Emma knows how special a family Christmas can be for all of them, she also knows there will be time.

A happily ever after worth of it.

There will be time for huge trees and lavish dinners and tons of presents under said trees and the whole patchwork family around the table. In a year or two.

But for this year, maybe they are still too fragile, maybe they are still sweeping their broken pieces together, maybe they are still trying to fit them with each other’s. Maybe Emma just wants what she has never had – a quiet Christmas. And she doesn’t think Killian minds one bit.

 They think about staying at home at first.

Yes, ‘home’ is now one and the same thing no matter which of them is talking and that’s still new and exhilarating and scary and just…

Or rather, they don’t think about it so much as for the first two weeks of December they just wake up as usual – with the sunlight shining on Killian’s back as Emma stubbornly hides her face in his chest, with her lips eventually reaching his ribs and waking him with little kisses and nibbles, until she feels his hand looking blindly for the waistband of her pjs and his stump brushing away her hair so he can lavish the same kind of attention on her neck.

For the first two weeks of December Emma resolutely starts her days with her morning run, while Killian fluctuates between joining her – mostly so that he can join her in the shower as well afterwards – or staying behind so he can greet her with breakfast – an endeavor whose success rate also fluctuates – from a welcome of aromatic coffee and perfectly golden pancakes and syrupy kisses to a flour-littered floor and a smashed plate and a frustrated Killian with nailmarks on his left bicep.

For the first two weeks of December Emma works on her script and Killian works on her pirate vocabulary, she familiarizes herself with the production side of motion pictures and he goes to physiotherapy and fixes things around their new place that Emma thinks they can simply call someone for just to prove that he can.

He can. 6 out of 7. Not that she ever doubted him.

For the first two weeks of December they just fall asleep as usual – with Emma’s nose buried between Killian’s shoulder blades, hand stroking through his hair or over the valleys of scars on his forearm, or with cooled mugs and a laptop glowing in the dark while they try to fit all their limbs on the small couch that they keep meaning to replace.

For the first two weeks of December they don’t plan on doing much of anything with the last two weeks of December. At some point Emma buys some plain white Christmas lights and presents them to her boyfriend with a shy smile because lights and a boyfriend happen to be two things she has never had before on Christmas – let alone together. And Killian smiles at her and kisses her forehead and her nose and does his best not to get frustrated at the process of untangling strings upon strings of little bulbs one-handed, until Emma herself says fuck it and decides that huge balls of bunched up lights are a good enough decoration for the time being.

Almost all those damn lights are properly spread out and illuminating the windows by the time – well into the third week of December – Killian suggests they follow little sis’s example and go somewhere with an actual chance of a white Christmas. Somewhere less populated and sports-orientated than the resort Ruby and Belle had chosen. Somewhere warm and cozy.

“A little cabin in the middle of nowhere. Big fireplace, small bed we have to share. What do you think, Swan?”

What could she think about anything that makes his eyes sparkle like that?

 He pulls some strings to get that perfect place that she is pretty sure he had his eye on even before mentioning it to her and Emma packs for the both of them with the kind of confidence and ease that makes her stop half-way through to go find Killian typing away on his laptop and throw her arms around him.

She drives and he presents her with a roadtrip playlist made to be sang to. She drives through Nevada belting Mr Brightside so hard Killian’s ears must ring all the way to Utah but he grins at her as if she just discovered a new note and makes her pull over just so he can mess up her ponytail and kiss her until she cannot remember the lyrics to any song she has ever heard besides the one her heart is beating out against his chest.

They drive through the night with only stops for coffee and hot chocolate and Snickers bars and somehow manage to eat all the sandwiches Emma rolled her eyes at the day before while Killian just shook his head and spread butter with the patience of a man who has never used margarine.

What are we, a football team of teenagers?

Well, you can certainly eat like one, love.

His shoulder is probably still slightly purple from that one.

 It’s the winter wonderland they promised themselves. Plus cheek-cutting gusts of wind and precariously swaying icicles and three feet worth of snow that they have to trudge through with their bags slung over their shoulders after taking the car as far as it could possibly go.

The wind convinces Emma’s scarf to whip her in the face four times before she unwounds the bastard and then has to chase it in a direction that is most certainly not the direction they are going in. Killian finds her dropping her bag to run after her errant piece of clothing as some sort of an invitation for a snowball fight. Once her indignation has blown away with her scarf and she actually takes aim at him, he realizes exactly how long it takes him to make a proper snowball with one hand and seems to think tackling her into the snow an appropriate change of tactic.

Her scarf ends up on a branch that she fruitlessly jumps at for a solid five minutes before Killian lifts her onto his shoulders.

Without satisfactory warning or preparation, mind you-

And Emma takes great pleasure in pulling hard on the branch and watching the snow come down on his head even as she faces a similar fate.

It's the cozy little getaway they were aiming for. Plus a boiler that takes a couple of hours to heat up enough water for one person (Killian thinks it the perfect excuse for joined showers but Emma knows their joined ‘showers’ last three times as long as her regular ones), an intimidating fireplace with a much less intimidating pile of firewood beside it and a Christmas tree that somehow found itself in the living room but avoided the weight of a single ornament.

Killian ‘teaches’ her how to chop firewood for a solid hour before she discovers that he has never held an axe, even a prop one. She ‘learns’ how to chip off splinters from a log for another half hour before they discover the little closet-like space filled to the brim with firewood. She lets Killian carry all of it inside just because she can still see the tense set of his shoulders from when she got one of those splinters in her palm and watching her act the lumberjack stopped being a source of amusement and endless innuendoes. He arranges the logs inside the frankly outrageous fireplace and she strikes the match and settles in his lap to kiss his red nose and each corner of his mouth and brush away the cobwebs in his hair that he seems to have gathered along with the wood.

They make tree ornaments out of the dozen pinecones they manage to dig out of the snow and the tinfoil left from their sandwiches and check two boxes of Christmas lights to end up with barely three short strings of working ones.

They are drinking cocoa made with hot water, buried in enough blankets for ten people, in the feeble glow of those three strings and the roaring fire and she can still see the way his fingers rub nervously at the cup handle.

“A little cabin in the middle of nowhere, big fireplace… we might not even make it to the bed,” she whispers in his ear and buts her head under his chin until he chuckles helplessly and slings his left arm around her shoulders to draw her that last breath closer.

“You are awfully bad at keeping your hands off me, darling.”

She scoffs and puffs and grumbles but there’s nothing quite as telling as the way her fingers have slipped under his sweater to play along his collarbone.

“Do you foresee that changing anytime soon?”

It takes her a moment to process the question and another to detect the slight change in tone. She pulls back to give him her most incredulous look but his gaze is firmly focused on their scanty lights as his jaw ticks away with the seconds and the crackling of the fire. So instead she turns around and takes the cup from his hand to set it on the floor and straddles him with little preamble.

Her lips find his Adam’s apple and the scruffy line of his jaw, his cheekbone and the light arch of his eyebrow. Her hands drift down both his shoulders to cup his left wrist and intertwine with the fingers on his right hand and she waits for him to look straight at her, takes a moment to appreciate the soft yellow-red light reflected in his blue eyes and shakes her head for a good ten seconds before finally replying.

“No.”

He waits a beat, looking at her, into her, reading the soul she has bared to him long before they made it to a cozy fire and a pile of blankets in the middle of nowhere on Christmas Eve. Then he nods, lips quirking up in almost-melancholy, almost-joy, almost-certainty.

“Thought as much.”

She looks at him as he looks down at their hands and plays with her fingers in movements reminiscent of the way he was fidgeting with his coffee mug mere minutes ago. She looks at him as he looks up and the tears in his eyes make every organ inside her body seize up as her fingers clamp harder around him.

“It’s…” he swallows and his gaze slips back to the little lights. “It’s not terribly different from the way you check each bulb in a string to make sure they lights up. Except…”

He wets his lips and squeezes her hand and Emma desperately needs him to get where he is headed with all this so she can breathe again.

“Except they were all out. All the lights. Each one would… flash up for a moment… and then go out. And then there was you.”

His eyes find hers again and she almost startles as she feels a tear make its way down her cheek instead of his.

Killian’s left wrist twitches in her hand for a second, another has him furrowing his brow, head tilted as he slowly, consciously and so very slowly reaches up and brushes the teardrop away with his stump.

“You were the only light that kept on shining, glowing in the dark so steadfastly that soon the dark was just shadows and even those often… scared away by the sheer luminance of… of you.”

“Killian-“

“I don’t… I didn’t think… I couldn’t come up with a metaphor that didn’t make me the darkness to your light.”

She shakes her head, violently and desperately and-

“But then I thought… maybe I could be the tree you wrap around. Maybe-“

She drops her forehead to his and it earns her the breath she needs to tell him.

“No.”

“No?”

She shakes her head and feels a strand of hair stick where his own face is not dry any longer.

“No. You-“ another shake and a choked laugh. “You are the one that dug me out and finally plugged me in.”

Her head tilts with his as he seems to consider her metaphor submission.

“You are the one that lit me up.”

He is about to say something. He reconsiders and kisses her instead – firm and thorough and putting the fire at her back to shame.

“It might very well be selfishness and self-service rearing their ugly heads,” he says when he pulls away and she hurries to blink away the fog of his mouth to follow what is coming from it now. “But I feel like I have done what I could to assure you that you can do much better than this one-handed ex-HanSolo-wanna-be.”

She growls at him and digs her fingers into his ribs in admonishment.

“Ah-ah, Swan. I said I feel I’ve done what’s within my power – I have probably broken a full set of your pretty daffodil plates by now-“

She doesn’t give a flying fuck about the daffodil plates, they can eat off the counter for all she cares-

“and I have inflicted multiple shopping trips with Ruby on you. And yet…”

His hand runs down her hair and twirls the strand it ends up with and his lips go up again – almost-wistfulness, almost-delight, almost-certainty.

“And yet here you are. Shining… Supposedly because I plugged you in,” he tackles on with a face that tells her exactly how much her metaphor is ruining his pretty speech and yet.

His eyes are amusement and fondness and so much love and almost-almost-certainty.

“And… and I want nothing more than to be in your light, to… hopefully, possibly… reflect some back to you… for the rest of our lives.”

He lets go of her hand for what feels like the first time in hours and she almost has a chance to miss him before he digs the ring out of his pocket.

“Emma Swan, light of my life… do you think you can possibly find your happily ever after… as my wife?”

She doesn’t watch the light play in the diamond, she watches it play in his eyes and she reaches up to cup his face so she can feel his smile when she says it.

“I don’t think I can find it any other way.”

He smiles and she kisses him – light and warmth and love and certainty.