#i remember seeing 'bi aroace' once and was like huh?

[arocoded]

What does it mean for you be be an aroace “lesbian”? Lesbians are definitionally homosexual.

Yeah it's definitely confusing terminology, but for me it refers to queerplatonic relationships. Like I'm asexual and aromantic, but I want to be in a qpr, but I really truly cannot imagine being truly happy in one w a man personally

I think the more technical terminology is lesbian *oriented* aroace

[rt8815]

Mamihlapinatapai

This follows my Untitled: “Last Gasp” Inspired piece from last year, so it’s set in mid March-ish 2018. It also fills the “Mutual Pining” square on my CM Bingo card.

WC: Almost 1,900

Notes: Taylor and Jaime are two of McKinley’s bandmates. They will appear in an earlier set fic that I haven’t finished yet 😏

Mamihlapinatapai is a Yagan (of the Nyungar people) word which means, “the wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start.”

—–

“Congrats, guys!” McKinley exclaimed, raising her glass. “The Dream Team is back together and Barnes has retreated to her office to lick her wounds. All is as it should be.”

“Cheers!” everyone toasted, laughing against their professional judgement.

JJ slid into the seat next to McKinley.

“It feels great to come back home,” Emily sighed, soaking in the sunset view from Rossi’s back yard.

McKinley sipped her Scotch, tapping the table suddenly when something occurred to her.

“Spencer, how ever will you tell your students you’ll no longer be teaching full-time?” Her hand flew to her heart. “Your fan club will be absolutely devastated, poor things,” she smirked, sounding anything but sympathetic.

Spencer almost choked on his wine. “Oh God, no,” he started, but just then Garcia joined them at the table.

“What’s this about fan club stuff? Are you planning costumes for a convention?” she asked.

Spencer buried his face in his hands and grumbled something that sounded like ‘piece of meat.’

McKinley stole a bit of Penelope’s Mai-tai before continuing. “No cons, Penny, unless you think dozens of shrieking harpies only there to drool over the male lead qualifies as a ‘convention.’”

Emily leaned around JJ. “Well, that piqued my interest. Go on.”

Spencer moaned, his voice muffled behind his palms.

“Nearly one hundred people came to his lecture this week,” McKinley stated. “They’ve become very popular…with the ladies.”

“Wow! Spence, that’s great,” JJ congratulated him, though she had a mischievous gleam in her eye.

“Yeah, Boy Wonder,” Penelope chimed in. “Why the bashfulness?” She’d had a few drinks and was a bit slow on the uptake.

McKinley rolled her eyes. “Penny, bubeleh, most of them weren’t there to learn,” she emphasized, staring pointedly at Spencer.

Penelope started to cotton on. “Oh,” she grinned. “You’re saying that they-”

“Got it baaad, got it baaad, got it baaad. They’re hot for teacher. Ow!”

Emily wolf-whistled as JJ stretched over the table to ruffle Spencer’s hair.

He finally reemerged, his face beet-red, though he appeared annoyed rather than angry.

“Ley, tell us more about these fangirls,” Garcia demanded, bouncing in anticipation. “Give us the deets.”

McKinley glanced at Spencer, who shrugged, apparently resigned to the good-natured ribbing.

“Do y’all remember The Bimbettes from Beauty and the Beast?” she asked, “and the “I Love You Eyelid Girl” from Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

Penelope giggled into her drink. “That bad, huh?”

“Ugh, worse,” groaned McKinley, now buzzed and losing her filter. “Both of those things cranked up to eleven.”

She rested her elbows on the table, imitating everything the students had done. “They weren’ listenin’ to a thang he said. They twirled their hair, got all doe-eyed and constantly ‘Ooohed’ and ‘Aaahed.’ Talk about flirtin’ up a storm. I swear a few of ‘em drooled.”

“You don’t say,” Emily snickered.

“It was disgusting. Those girls made such asses of themselves. I felt bad for ‘em really.”

“Uh-huh,” JJ chuckled, sounding unconvinced.

“No, honestly! They just would not back down. They stalked us through the hallway. I was worried they were gonna eat ‘im alive!” McKinley cried as she fluffed Spencer’s hair. “I had to keep Skindiana Jones here safe.”

“I uh, I don’t recall them stalking us,” Spencer interjected, “and I still don’t understand why women always-”

“Spence, read. the book. we gave you!”

“Seriously! This has happened on so. many. cases.”

“Yeah! Remember Lila Archer?”

McKinley whipped her head around. “Wait, what? Lila Archer the actress?”

“Yeah,” replied JJ. “Lila was a stalking victim 12 years ago. Spence stayed at her house. She pulled him into her pool and they made out.”

“Oh, she’s very pretty. I imagine that must’ve been quite something!”

“Don’t forget all the working ladies who hit on him,” Emily added.

“And the bartender who flirted with him,” slurred Penny.

Spencer shook his head. “Women go for guys like Morgan or Alvez, not me.”

McKinley frowned. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume that right there is false modesty. It’s not though, and that makes me sad.”

“I’m weird.”

“Weird should be a compliment,” McKinley countered.

“I ramble a lot-”

“Some find it endearing.”

“-about things nobody’s interested in.”

“I’m interested…”

But Spencer wasn’t paying attention.

“My hair’s too long…”

“It suits you, Spencer.”

“I dress like an eighty-year-old man.”

McKinley scrunched her face in amusement. “Yeah, like I said the other day, I’m fairly certain the whole tenured professor look is their kink. Face it, Pretty Boy: yer eye candy.”

Spencer grimaced and hoisted himself up from his chair.

“No, don’t go!” McKinley pleaded, loosely grabbing his forearms. “We’ll stop now, right guys?”

“Of course.”

“Sure.”

“Fine, I’ll zip my perfect, rosy lips.”

Spencer eyed them warily before lowering himself back down. As he drained his glass, McKinley resumed her elbows-on-table pose, feigning innocence.

“I do have one question for you though, Doctor.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What might that be?”

McKinley fiddled with his tie, unknotting it. “I’m worried about my grade in your class. T-t-t-teacher, can you see me after school?”

Spencer sputtered, blushing furiously, then jerked his tie out of her hand and stormed off as dignified as possible.

“I think of all the education that I missed,” she called after him, gesturing for the others to join her. They chorused, “But then my homework was never quite like this!”

They all dissolved into fits of laughter, although McKinley’s quickly dissipated.

“Shit, he’s my ride home. That’s gonna be awkward.”

Emily cleared her throat. “So, how long have you been in love with Reid?”

“I – what?” McKinley squeaked. “I’m not in love with Spencer! What gave you that idea?”

“That show you put on just now. Plus, I saw you two on my porch the other day. I have security cameras…with audio,” Emily admitted.

“Anyway, you’ve looked at each other differently for a while now. You act differently towards each other too. Maybe bringing up the lecture is your subconscious telling you that you two have evolved beyond friendship.”

McKinley shook her head. “Emily, we haven’t known each other long enough for that.”

“Granted, five months is fast,” said Tara, who’d slid into the table unnoticed, “but you’ve spent a lot of his sabbatical and regular time outside work together. Simply put? The quality of your and his friendship could well outweigh the length.”

“And the way you talked about those students?” JJ added. “You called them shrieking harpies and you sounded ready to rip them apart. I mean, I believe that they drooled over Spence, but you laid it on kind of thick. Was it all about keeping him safe, or was it also you telling them to back off?”

That had McKinley stumped. She remembered silently mocking the girls’ behavior, and how she smugly whispered, “It’s never gonna happen,” effectively saying Spencer was out of their league. What stood out the most was how she stared them down as she linked arms with him, deriving satisfaction from their…jealousy?

“Did I deliberately taunt them?” McKinley wondered to herself.

She recalled a sensation of hackles raising. There was no polite way to word it.

“I was marking my territory.”

McKinley had a sudden desire to take a shower.

Her feelings had undoubtedly shifted, but she had no frame of reference for them. And that frightened her.

She switched tactics. “Don’t forget that I’m aroace, guys. I don’t experience romantic or sexual attraction.”

Garcia popped up from her phone, where she’d been hunting down the ‘perfect first date venue.’ “You talk a lot about how sexy and pretty guys are, though. I’ve caught you staring at many a tuchus. What’s that about?” she winked.

McKinley cut eyes at her. “I’m asexual, Penny, not blind. I admired the Venus de Milo too, but I didn’t wanna hump it either.”

“Y’know, I used to identify as bi,” Penelope replied. “I was in my late twenties before I knew that I’m pan. It’s only for you to say but, it might be worth considering demi identities.”

That struck a chord with McKinley. It would require a lot of unpacking her emotions, but it was definitely worth considering.

…

Spencer stole glimpses at McKinley as he drove her home. She was drumming a beat on the armrest. He chuckled; she always did that while deep in thought.

Stopping at a light pulled her from her reverie. “Thank you for driving me home,” she said rather meekly.

“You’re welcome. Never take Uber or Lyft.” He coughed nervously. “You know, because it’s not the safest mode of transportation. Half of our cases start that way,” he joked.

McKinley grinned. “You’re an absolute prince for doing this, especially since I’m a rotten friend.”

Spencer’s jaw dropped. “No, you’re not! Is this about the lecture? Because it’s nothing the team hasn’t teased me about before.”

“Yeah, but I shoulda known they’d take the piss,” she whined, kicking her legs grumpily, “and I went too far with the song. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you,” he assured her as he stepped on the gas. “Although, I’d like to point out that I’ve never once brought up the men who hit on you at bars.”

“True,” McKinley breathed, playing with a loose thread on her blouse. “But that seems to have died down at O’Keeffe’s recently.”

Spencer pressed his lips together, eyes fixed on the road. She eyed him suspiciously.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” she prodded him.

“Think fast.”

“It’s probably the team’s presence. Most of the regulars know who we are.”

Fortunately, she accepted his suggestion. “Yeah, that’s feasible.”

“Truth is I shoved my credentials in their faces once or twice,”he confessed silently.

“When that doesn’t work, I step between you and them while flashing my revolver, but I’m not owning up to any of that.”

Spencer parked in Taylor and Jaime’s driveway and walked McKinley to her tiny house in the backyard. Boogie bolted out to greet them, tail wagging vigorously.

At her door, she twisted around for a final goodnight, surprised to find Spencer standing so near. He raised his hand and combed his fingers through her hair.

“Cherry blossom,” he explained, showing the pale pink flower in his hand. Spencer reached up again, brushing hair out of her eyes, lingering this time.

McKinley found herself tilting her head into his hand.

“Please don’t stop playing with my hair. Is this what he feels when I play with his? Am I blushing? Is he blushing? What’s that look he’s giving me? Affection? Is that how I look at him? I wish he’d say something. I should say something, but I can’t speak. My heart’s pounding. What’s wrong with me? I never have trouble talking to Spencer. How can someone make me flustered and relaxed at the same time?”

Spencer moved even closer. “Ley, I was wondering -”

“Bork!”

They sprang apart, the spell broken, to see Boogie dancing impatiently. He jumped, placing his paws on Spencer’s thighs.

“Hey buddy, I’m not ignoring you,” he promised as he scratched the dog’s ears.

Satisfied, Boogie pushed open the door and stared expectantly at McKinley.

Spencer retreated down the stairs. “I should be going. Good night, Ley,” he said, the slightest note of disappointment in his voice.

“Night, Spencer. Text me when you get home?”

“Always,” he smiled up at her, stepping backwards towards the fence and through the gate.

—–

@illegalcerebral @dreatine @cynbx @cmbingo

Everyone else let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the future!

[thealphabetmurders]

Scrambled Thoughts

Pairings: Romantic Logince, Sibling Analogical

Word Count: 2013 (for Chapter 3), 8163 in total

(Previous) (First)

Summary: Roman was not a rebel by any means. Roman was not a fan of breaking rules. Sure, he bent some from time to time, but never done anything blatantly wrong, that was not in service to his passions. Yet, despite the protests his best friend and his consciousness, he picks up two dozen eggs and goes to vandalize. Now, Roman has to avoid suspension, make amends with Virgil, alleviate the concern of Patton, and not fall in love with his enemy Logan.

Triggers: Bullying, Violence, Vandalism, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Mentions of Racism, Classism

Authors Note:This fic originally was going to be just 3 chapters long, but the people on my discord server implored me to write some more angst. Please enjoy.  (Again, I was inspired by a dream @misplaced-my-notes had, thank you).

Taglist (for everyone who seemed interested): @misplaced-my-notes, @jaszczurkaaa, @an-atypical, @jughead-is-canonically-aroace (let me know if you wanted to be added/taken off)

(Read on AO3) 

One Week Later

Tensions had been running high between Logan and Roman over the week. Logan would smirk at something he had read, faux-gasp at something on his phone, or just give Roman a smug grin, and Roman would return the favor in a civilized fashion of obscene hand gestures.

It felt as though this was going to go on indefinitely. That was, until, a randomly assigned pairs project was put before them. And as fate would have it, there was no question as to who Roman was paired up with.

“So,” Mrs. Volts continued, “As this is a public forum debate, you and your partner will work together to debate another pair. Your resolution topics have been posted on the board. After reading, you and your partner should get together and get started,”

Roman nearly cried as him and Logan looked at one another, both filled with the same amount of despair. They looked at their topic stand together, but looking very much separated, “Americans are entitled to free and public healthcare,”

The two made their way back to a desk in the corner and pulled out their computers wordlessly and shared a document with one another.

“So, I will take the affirmative since I am sure you would love to argue the negative for this one-”

Logan cut him off, “No, I believe we should work together on each one, that way we know an equal amount about the affirmative and negative,” Roman just nodded, “Listen, Roman I would like to apologize,”

Roman frowned, “For what?”

Logan fiddled with the sleeves of his leather jacket and continued talking, not meeting Roman’s eyes, “About my offhand comment on the quality of state schooling. It has been bothering me for days now and I wanted to apologize. I am speaking from a place of privilege, privilege I know I have. I intended to hurt you with that, but I wanted to apologize now, because I immediately regretted as I said it. I made a mistake, and I was wrong,”

Roman was shocked at Logan’s admission. He believe it would go in a completely different direction leading up to a punchline about Roman’s intelligence, “That was very big of you, Logan, thank you. Consider your apology, accepted,” Roman said with a wave of his hand.

“Great,” Logan deadpanned, unzipping and shrugging of his jacket. Today he wore a eggshell vertical striped shirt with a short black tie. Roman looked down at his own attire, a bright purple and red show shirt advertising Noises Off as well as his red bomber. He laughed silently to himself, wondering how they could be dressed more different.

“Are you also going to apologize for bruising my foot by smashing it with your pumps?” Roman asked.

“No, absolutely not,” Logan looked up from his typing, “I will only apologize for things I feel remorse towards and I do not regret that. I can, would, and will do it again when the opportunity presents itself.”

“Whatever you say, Specs,”

Logan shook his head, “We are not at nickname level yet,”

Roman smirked, “What are you gonna do about it- and I see you raising your foot, it that really your only move?”

Another Week Later

Roman didn’t know how it happened. Slowly, Logan and Roman’s, as the former would call it, ‘childish competitive rivalry’ slowly morphed into a ‘childish competitive friendship’. It must have all started when Roman invited Logan over to work on their debate, fully knowing they were ahead with work, and Logan accepted.

Maybe Roman did scream the entire time he rode on the back of Logan’s bike, gripping onto his waist, crying for deal life. It was possible that they spent 10 minutes working on their presentation but then forwent their original motive to play Mario Party. It’s extremely likely that Logan painted Roman’s nails black and Roman taught Logan how to make a meal out of 5 things in the pantry.

“What was that about, Ro?” Patton asked as Logan passed Roman in the hall, bumping him in the shoulder, winking, then smiling.

“Oh, that? We’re friends now, can you believe that?” Roman said, smiling. They sat down for lunch and Patton was smiling meekly.

“So, you both are friends now?” Patton asked. Roman nodded, taking out his salad, “Just… friends?”

Roman’s heart stopped and he swallowed, “Yea, Pat, just friends. W-why?”

Patton giggled, “I don’t know, that did not seem like just friendly behavior to me. I am pretty sure Logan was more expressive in those 5 seconds than I have seen him in the 3 years I have known him,”

Roman stabbed his salad, the fork slightly cracking the bottom of the cheap plastic, “Logan and I are just friends, nothing more. Either way, he is straight,”

“Did he tell you that?”

“Well, no, but he is a nerd and exudes that straight energy. No gay guys ride motorcycles,”

Patton considers this for a moment, “I guess. Bi?”

Roman’s eyes widen, “Huh. I didn’t even think of that. Motorcycles are big bisexual energy,”

“Do you like Logan?” Patton asked outright.

“No. Not really. He is still a self-righteous know it all,”

“So, you will not be upset if I am brutally honest with you, Ro,” Patton started out, hesitantly.

“I suppose… What is going on?”

Patton pushed his lunch aside and folded his hands onto the table, “Don’t you think it is a bit weird that a week ago you and Logan were at each other’s throats, and now he is kind of flirting with you in the halls?”

Roman frowned, chewing on his fork, “What are you saying, Patton?”

“I think that he may be feeding off of your flirtatious nature and using you,”

Roman dropped his fork in his salad and scoffed, “Using me? For what?”

Patton tongued the inside of his cheek, “You seriously do not remember, kiddo? How you vandalized his house and he is trying to get you suspended. Doesn’t he have to come up with something in about a week?”

“Yea…”

“Maybe this is a tactic. Get close to you for information and then use that against you,” Patton put his rounded glasses on top of his head and rubbed his eyes, “I never want to be a negative Nancy, Roman, but I have your best interest in mind, yea? You need a scholarship and fraternizing with the enemy is a damn good way to not get one,”

Roman scoffed, “The enemy?”

“You know what I mean,” Patton looked at his watch and sighed, “I promised Mr. Eldredge I would help him set up for Senior Facs, I just going to head there now,” He quite harshly threw everything in his lunch box and swung his school bag over his shoulder, “Just please listen to me Roman, for once, just listen to me. If you had listened to me in the first place, maybe you and Logan could have been friends without any ulterior motives,”

Patton walked off with purpose leaving Roman by himself to compartmentalize what Patton had revealed to him.

Logan is incredibly smart. That is just a universal truth. With every class, Logan excels and has developed quite the income from selling the faculty WiFi password to students, which allows them to access restricted content on their computers. Yet, there are always two sides to the same coin. Logan uses a lot of that intelligence purely for self preservation. He never gives out test answers or lets anyone copy homework. He is quite selfish with his school supplies as well, but more than anything, Logan is incredibly reserved. Most people high school aged have broken off into cliques or groups they share common interests with. Never Logan. Sure, Logan has acquaintances and people whom he can talk to in class, but never hang out with outside of the fact or even text for leisure. In fact, Roman is pretty sure he is the only contact in Logan phone outside of family.

There is no reason why Logan would randomly, out of the blue, want to become friends with Roman. In fact, it was weird how he didn’t see it for himself, first. Logan was just a parasite, using him off for his own personal gain and wishes then depositing him into a river whenever he has sucked all the blood and life out of him.

Roman gripped at his hair (the curliness of it makes it good to latch on to) and gritted his teeth, willing himself not to spill the hot tears that were taunting the edge of his eyelids. He gritted his teeth and sucked in a cold breath, the air feeling harsh against his enamel, but not as harsh as find out one of the few friends you did make was just using you off.

In a fit of passion and anger, Roman hit his salad off of the table, hitting the wall next to him. Lettuce and dressing stained the wall and the plastic fell on the floor, even more cracked than before. A couple students around him looked at the action, but quickly  turned their attention away; nothing interesting enough was happening to stare at the student who looked on the verge of tears. Roman hastily grabbed his bag and ran out of the cafeteria. Normally, he could clean up his mess, but he was too emotional to care.

He walked and walked and walked until he reached his destination in mind. Roman raised a fist and rapped three quick knocks on the door.

“Roman?”

“Mr. B, what are you doing here… I was here to see-” Mr. Remy Brown stepped to the side to reveal Dr. Emile Picani. There were glasses set out and plates scattered across the coffee table at Dr. Picani’s office.

“Roman, is everything alright,” The school psychiatrist leapt up from his couch and rushed over to the door.

The student sniffled in response, but waved his hand away, “No, no I am fine, I just- You guys are having lunch I can come back-”

“No way, Ro,” Mr. B shook his head, “You look terrible,” He opened the door and gestured for the other to come inside.

He tentatively took a few steps inside and sat in the big leather chair across from the couch, settling into it nicely. Roman crossed his legs on the chair and picked up a stuffed dog and began fiddling with it’s long fur.

“I better go, Em,” Mr. B said, awkwardly. Roman always found it to be weird when teacher said other’s first names, but he quickly dismissed that point.

“Actually, I want you here, Mr. B, if that is alright,” Roman said awkwardly, “I was going to go to you, but I knew you were at lunch and didn’t want to bother you,” Roman looked down at his shoes, “Oops,”

The two adults looked at each other with an undesirable expression, but Dr. Picani signaled to the seat next to him and Mr. B sat down.

“Okay, Roman,” Dr. Picani bit his lip and looked up at Roman with worry, “What seems to be going on?”

*****

Microsoft NERD: Roman, you were not here for 6th period and we were supposed to debate today, is everything okay?

Microsoft NERD: I know we were supposed to go to that “Bubble Tea House” that just opened up; did you go home?

Microsoft NERD: Virgil told me you are in 7th Period, I do not know if you got your phone taken by your teacher, but you really should stop texting in class (also, I do not want you to sass me, this is my TA period).

Microsoft NERD: I am waiting by my bike for you in our usual spot.

Microsoft NERD: Roman, I have been waiting for you for about 40 minutes and you haven’t showed or texted me, I am just going to head home.

Microsoft NERD: I apologise, Roman, if I did anything to upset you or if something else upset you that was outside of me. Just, be prepared to debate tomorrow, I suppose. Goodnight, Roman.

[aroacehogwarts]

Like The Phoenix

Happy Solstice, all! This was a fic created in case one of the White Dragon participants couldn’t finish their gift. Happily, they can! So instead this is a little teaser of what I’m sure is to be an avalanche of awesome! Gift giving officially starts tomorrow. For now, please enjoy this aroace-centric fic. :D

~

Gryffindor, where the brave reside! Ravenclaw, where the wisest dwell! Slytherin, where the ambitious stay! Hufflepuff... where hard workers live?

Like the brave and righteous don’t work hard to correct injustice? Like the wise don’t work hard to gain knowledge and experience? Like ambition means you don’t have to work hard to achieve results? Sometimes, being in Hufflepuff was an identity crisis. 

It was one certain Hufflepuff that struggled with this on the night we watch them. It was near the beginning of the school year. Slytherin had won last year’s Cup. Ravenclaw the year before. And Gryffindor the year before that. A lot could change in the coming months, but Slytherin already had a nice head start. It wasn’t particularly uncommon for a student to not see their house win the Cup at the end of the year the entire time they were at Hogwarts, but this student had never seen that coming. The house known for hard work and toil, and even their Head of House wasn’t certain the last time Hufflepuff had won the Cup - though they did know Hufflepuff had won the Cup at some point. A small comfort, if even that.

So what, really, was Hufflepuff? Who, really, was this Hufflepuff? Let us call them, Alex, for their own anonymity and comfort. However, we shall share their story because it is an important one, and one that Alex would want shared.

~

“Avis.” BANG.

“Avis.” BANG.

“Avis.” BANG.

Alex conjured flights of bird after flights of bird. The spell wasn’t mastered, so the birds disappeared minutes after conjuring, meaning Alex wasn’t buried in an avalanche of feathers.

“Could you quit that?” an annoyed voice came from the doorway that Alex’s back was facing.

Well, the noise was bound to have drawn somebody at some point.

“No,” Alex replied tersley. “Avis!”

“Incendio!” Fire burst through the dark, stone room, setting most of the flocks alight, withering the birds away to nothing.

“Hey!” Alex rose and turned. “Do you know how dangerous that is?”

The fire-caster wasn’t someone Alex recognized off the bat, but Alex guessed they were a year younger. Their blue bowtie identified them as a Ravenclaw. Their scowl made their emotions at the moment quite clear.

“Dangerous for you, maybe. I could put the fire out far before it hurt me.”

“Rude.” Alex turned and sat, unwilling to get into a duel with this random younger year. Instead of the calming casting, Alex pulled out a cube. One side held a large button, another a series of smaller buttons, another a metal ball that could be scrolled in any direction, and so forth. Alex took to playing with the cube instead.

“Hello? Aren’t you going to cast more birds? C’mon.”

Alex ignored them. The Ravenclaw was clearly itching for a fight. Alex did not want to give it to them.

The Ravenclaw sighed. “Fine, be that way.”

Alex relaxed slightly as their footsteps walked away, then immediately tensed when the footsteps started getting louder and closer again. 

“What’s your problem, huh?”

“Nothing,” Alex said, keeping a level voice.

“Yeah, I bet. You and all the other perfect Hufflepuffs.”

“What?” Alex couldn’t help the tinge of surprise that came with the word. “Perfect Hufflepuffs? Don’t you mean loser Hufflepuffs? Nobody Hufflepuffs?”

“Yeah, right. Free to just be yourselves, not having to live up to some restrictive stereotype that people think only means one thing making the pressure so great it literally breaks you.”

“Whoa, what?” was all Alex could manage. This was far beyond anything Alex had expected to deal with today. Wasn’t one internal crisis enough for one day? Apparently not.

“Nothing. Nevermind.” The Ravenclaw turned to leave. Alex got the impression that this time, there would be no returning.

“Wait! No, that was a... useless response. I just didn’t know the other Houses felt the same way?”

The Ravenclaw paused but didn’t turn to face Alex. “Same way?”

“Yeah, I feel like...,” Alex paused to gain courage to say the words out loud. “I feel like I don’t fit in anywhere. We’re supposedly the House of hard work, right? But bravery, wisdom, and ambition don’t take hard work? Anyone from any House could work hard. So what does it even mean to be a Hufflepuff? What do I have to be proud of?”

The Ravenclaw was silent for a few moments. “Nothing.” Alex’s heart came crashing down. Alex turned to avoid having to look at the Ravenclaw. “None of us do, really. The Houses are just meaningless sortings based off a couple of dead people several hundred years ago. Who knows what purpose the sorting really served back then. I definitely don’t think it serves a purpose now, though. I mean, everyone thinks Ravenclaw just means book smarts, but that’s not the only kind of intelligence. It’s not definitively the best kind of intelligence either. And you think there are no intelligent Gryffindors nor Hufflepuffs nor Slytherins? The Houses are just oversimplified views of the traits that a person, at one point in their life, when they’re young and are highly unlikely to know what you really want now nevermind for the rest of your life.”

Now it was Alex’s turn to sit in stunned silence.

“Wow, that was... Wow,” was all Alex could manage. Everything they’d been unable to articulate had just been summed up by this unknown Ravenclaw. “Alex.”

“Hm? Oh, Jamie.”

Alex felt an odd kinship with Jamie. The sorting rant was oddly relaxing. That’s what made Alex admit, “you know, it’s funny. Realizing I was asexual was easy. Realizing I was arospec was harder. But coming out as both of them to my family and friends was a breeze. Yeah, I was nervous, but I was also excited. I guess I’m just lucky, but I never had any crisis over my orientation. My House, though? Crises galore.” Alex laughed, a tad darkly.

“A-asexual?”

“Never heard of it?”

“No. What’s it mean?”

“It generally means a lack of sexual attraction.”

“So then arospec. Short for?”

“Aromantic spectrum. Aromantic is a lack of romantic attraction. The spectrum part just means it’s not so clear as never experiencing romantic attraction. Some experience it only under certain circumstances, some experience it just at a very low level, some might experience it at differing intensities, etc. Anything beyond just plain experiencing or not experiencing romantic attraction.” Sometimes it could be tiring to explain this sort of thing over and over again, but this time, Alex was actually excited. Jamie seemed genuinely interested. This wasn’t a case of someone just not knowing or understanding Alex. This was a case of something thirsting to know what these words meant. Alex was inexplicably excited over this.

“If arospec is a thing then asex-spec? Asespec? Must be a thing, too.”

“Yes! Acespec. Same principal as arospec but with sexual attraction.”

“And are these the only words you know? Asexual, acespec, aromantic, arospec?”

“No, there are tons of terms out there! More than I could even list. There’s - and you can attach asexual or sexual or aromantic or romantic after each of these - demi, gray, lith, cupio, fray, apothi, quoi, etc. Lesse, what’d I say? Quoi means you confuse different attraction types or can’t tell them apart. It can also mean a whole host of other things, like finding the whole concept of attraction meaningless or illogical to you. Demi means you don’t experience an attraction until after a bond is formed. Gray is basically another term for acespec - it means a whole lot of things that basically mean you don’t simply experience attraction or don’t simply not experience attraction. And... I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but go on, go on!”

Alex smiled, a genuine smile - the first in what felt like ages. “What haven’t I defined yet?”

Jamie closed their eyes, trying to remember as much as Alex. “Lith, cupio, fray, and apothi,” Jamie said.

Alex raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop to question. “Lith means you can feel and desire a type of attraction and relationship but only in theory. Fray means you experience attraction until you form a bond with someone. And apothi means you’re specifically asexual or aromantic and sex or romance repulsed. And these are really just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve got a book I’ve been bogarting if you want it?”

“The book talks about all this stuff?”

“Yes! It’s got definitions, theories, and even personal stories in it. It’s helped me feel not so alone.”

Jamie was quiet, thoughtful. “So can you be more than one thing at once? Like bi and demi?”

“Oh yeah, you can be so much more than that. You could be demibiromantic quoipansexual or whatever mix of things best suits you.”

“I would love to see the book,” Jamie said quietly.

“Well come on, then!” Alex hopped up and walked over to Jamie. “It’s just in my dorm room. Don’t tell anybody, but I keep it under my pillow. It comforts me. I’d be happy to know it’s helping someone else.”

Jamie seemed a little flustered following a few paces after Alex. “I don’t want to take something so precious to you.”

“You’re not! I’m sharing.”

Without any sense of awkwardness or embarrassment, Alex knocked on the barrels outside the common room once they’d reached the area by the kitchens. Alex couldn’t help but laugh at Jamie partly attempting to avert their eyes and partly sneaking a curious glance. “Houses are meaningless, remember?” Alex teased.

“Right,” Jamie relaxed, climbing in after Alex.

~

And that is where our story ends, dear listener. As they say, the rest is history. Alex and Jamie became close friends after that night, and each were welcomed without too many second glances into the other’s common room. Jamie soon came out as aromantic acespec to Alex, the only person they were out to for many years.

Hopefully the moral of this story has been made clear, but if not, let me spell it out for you: it’s not the labels that others put on you that matters; it’s your actions - big and small alike - that matter.