#that never looked cis in the first place but y’know

[stillsolo]

although i normally like to separate my headcanons by verses (modern/sw), i’ll be going with sw only for consistency this time.

NAME: han solo / han ‘jonash e.’ solo NICKNAME(s): captain, general, scruffy-looking, nerfherder.  han has a particular fondness for nicknames, especially when they come from strangers or casual acquaintances.  it isn’t out of any desire for familiarity or a closer connection—far from it.  the truth is, the fewer people who know, hear about, and remember his real name, the better.  it’s a layer of anonymity that keeps him comfortably one step ahead. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: timeline dependent. single. GENDER: cis male. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:   pansexual.   giving him a label only because i have to.   han is unabashed in what he likes, and he’s open to pretty much anything, be it men, women, enbies, aliens etc. PREFERRED PET NAMES: n/a.     the occasional endearment or pet name is fine, maybe even welcomed if it’s the right person.  however, if that nickname / pet name ever starts to fully replace his real name, it’s a different matter entirely lol  han will quickly grow to resent it, preferring instead to hear his name or, better yet, no nickname at all!

OPINION ON TRUE LOVE: han doesn’t believe in “true love” and there is no way to convince him otherwise.  you’re either gullible or stupidly naïve if you believe in it.  his deep-seated mistrust of anything intangible, anything he can’t see or feel for himself, defines much of his character and disposition, so until he experiences “true love” firsthand—a prospect he’d probably instinctively fight against—he’ll remain unconvinced. OPINION ON LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT:  again, han’s beliefs are grounded in experience.  he’s never known what it’s like to fall in love at first sight and his tendency to keep people at a distance—whether intentional or not—places love and romance at the very bottom of his priorities.  this isn’t exactly a very welcoming mindset, y’know?  however, i will say he might concede to the magic of second glances.  in other words, although the notion of “love at first sight” ultimately remains dumb and bewildering to him, he might find himself seeing someone in a new light after some time has passed, which is about as close as han will ever get to the notion of “love at first sight”. HOW ‘ROMANTIC’ ARE THEY?: this isn’t the first time i’ve grappled with this question, though it has been a few years since i last attempted to answer it.  my core beliefs remain unchanged, but i’ll admit that my perspective has broadened over time.  while han solo might not initially strike one as the most romantic guy out there, i’ve come to view him as one of the more romantic characters in the franchise—albeit from a certain point of view. consider his actions, from daring rescue attempts to insanely self-sacrificing stunts: 1) facing the empire to rescue a captured princess, 2) at the end of anh, when he pivots the falcon, he endangers himself, his ship, and his best friend, all to save some wet-behind-the-ears farmboy 3) riding out ALONE into a dangerous blizzard, armed only with his tauntaun, minimal gear, and with night falling fast, to search for luke, his totally platonic ‘guy friend’. han’s behavior in the first two films alone speaks volumes about the man he truly is and the lengths he’ll go to for the people he cares about.   this, despite his best efforts to convince everyone and their frickin’ moms—and maybe even himself—that he’s only in it for the money / himself / XYZ-excuse.   the stark contrast between his words and his actions is honestly confusing as hell but kinda super endearing if you ask me.  i really want to say more, but i might just make a separate post about this topic if anyone’s interested in reading it lol

IDEAL PHYSICAL TRAITS: this is a tough question to pin down when han isn’t looking for that. he isn’t even the type to actively seek out a partner unless it’s for a one-night stand, and those are rare—so rare, in fact, that he could count those encounters on one hand.  trust issues run deep with han, and given his line of work, physical attraction alone isn’t worth the risk of putting himself in a vulnerable position—and i mean that quite literally              okay, okay, sorry, back to the point: physical appearances don’t matter much to him.  the most i can say is that (alien) humanoids are the best case scenario, but even that isn’t a hard and fast rule.  what he does appreciate is a pretty face, regardless of whether it belongs to a man or a woman.

IDEAL PERSONALITY TRAITS: honesty and loyalty are non-negotiable.  they’re the bedrock of any relationship, romantic or otherwise.  if a person can’t offer him these two basic essentials, then as far as he’s concerned, they’re not worth his time.  everything else is just icing on the cake.  han values people who are adaptable, independent, open-minded, genuine, spirited, decisive, and expressive. UNATTRACTIVE PHYSICAL TRAITS: when it comes to body type, han isn’t looking for an armful of skin and bones, but he’s also not interested in getting crushed by someone with jabba’s physique...  height isn’t much of a factor, either.  look, if they can handle themselves and keep up with him in a tight spot, then they’ve got his attention, okay? UNATTRACTIVE PERSONALITY TRAITS: han isn’t much different from the next guy.  traits like cruelty, pretentiousness, and manipulation are instant red flags.  but if there’s one thing han absolutely cannot and will not tolerate, it’s someone trying to control him or dictate how he should think and feel.  given his upbringing and the years he spent under the oppressive thumb of an emotionally + physically abusive parental figure, it’s understandable—though deeply rooted in past trauma—that he bolts at the first sign of someone trying to exert control over him. lastly, narrow-mindedness / close-mindedness is notably unappealing to him as well.  corellians have a reputation for being worldly and open to new experiences for a good reason, as their adventurous spirit and hunger for the stars led to the invention of the modern hyperdrive.  to han, narrow-minded / close-minded views aren’t just unattractive, they’re a glaring mismatch with the very core of who he is.

IDEAL DATE: ‘dates’ are so far removed from canon!han that i just kinda sat around thinking about this for way too long lol first off, this is super timeline dependent. overall, han doesn’t do dates—not in the traditional sense. with him, dates are so casual they barely qualify as dates at all. unless he’s genuinely falling for someone, you’d be hard-pressed to get him to agree to a one-on-one outing that feels like anything more than a casual hangout. admittedly, he might not even realize what he’s doing. the truth is, han avoids anything that could lead to the kind of solidified promise a real relationship demands—and no, commitment isn’t the issue, it’s everything that comes with it. the idea of meeting their friends, their parents, moving in together, planning for their shared future… it all feels like a slow march toward an inevitable crossroads: either break up or get married. neither of those outcomes sit well with him. ofc, this is until someone lovely comes by to make him want a future with them p: DO THEY HAVE A TYPE?: han is the sort of man who likes learning to love the unique aspects of his partner, the little things that set them apart from a sea of faces.  but if i had to pin down his ideal type, it would be someone who can match him in every sense—quick-witted in conversation and just as sharp in a fight ( an “ordinary citizen” would either bore him or scare him ).  he’s captivated by those who bring excitement and spirit to the table, someone who thrives on adventure and isn’t afraid of the unpredictable turns life tends to take. independence is key.   han values someone who can stand on their own two feet, who doesn’t rely on him for every little thing.  if they lean on him too much, or expect him to be their rock at every turn, that’s one surefire way to push him away.   in short, even if he cares for them, if they can’t adapt to his lifestyle—let’s be real, settling down isn’t exactly on his to-do list—he’ll cut ties, believing it’s best for both of them.   han is always on the move, and anyone who can’t keep up is bound to get left behind.

AVERAGE RELATIONSHIP LENGTH: good luck getting him to even consider using a label, let alone willingly. PREFERRED NON-SEXUAL INTIMACY: the list is extensive: cuddling, napping, hugging, cooking together, eating together, basically spending quality time together doing XYZ!!!   but it’s important to note that unless he has very strong feelings for them or is in love, these gestures won’t come naturally to him, and he might even try to wriggle out of offers/requests with a well-timed change of subject or even abruptly remember he has something to do before frantically running away lol COMMITMENT LEVEL: i’ve talked about this several times over the years but i’ll happily say it again bc this conflation makes me go absolutely feral: han’s reputation has always been besmirched by fans who struggle to mark the difference between fiction and reality.  i adore harrison, but his playboy ways back in the 80′s, bled into han’s image as a character.   once han falls for someone, he becomes exceptionally loyal and deeply committed. OPINION OF PUBLIC AFFECTION: despite what many might assume, han is a fairly reserved man.  in his younger days, this reservation stemmed from a entrenched reluctance to be openly vulnerable, coupled with the awareness of how dangerous it could be to flaunt a romantic interest in a world where potential threats lurked at every corner.  when he’s older, particularly after the events of ROTJ and beyond, this wariness evolves into a personal preference for privacy.  at this stage in his life, he’s general han solo, the dude who helped bring down an empire.  the spotlight is something han never quite grows accustomed to, and it grates on him more than he cares to admit.  public displays of affection are minimal, limited to holding hands or, at most, a quick kiss on the cheek. PAST RELATIONSHIPS?: well, uh, y’see,..,

tagged by : @debelltio thank you for thinking of me alistair!! i rarely get tag memes anymore and i very clearly enjoy doing them lol tagging: @techniiciian @tapalslegacy @sgterso @chosesun @forcenexus @alootus @lightfaithed @duelfated & whoever else wants to do this!!

[starry-skies-116]

Times I should've realized I was trans af-🏳️‍⚧️⚧🏳️‍⚧️

Back in 3rd grade, when my hair grew long enough, I’d tie it up into a ponytail, drape the hair over my head to make it look like a masc haircut, clip it so that it would stay in place, and then place a beanie over it to cover the clips. I’d always be in the school restrooms, pretending to be a man. One time I even walked into the boys restroom during recess- that moment for me was the most euphoric moment in my entire year of third grade.

One time, I wanted to a little social experiment at 13- this was before I got my first period. I went out masquerading as a boy with my Mum, and the shopowner called me ‘handsome’ and praised my mom for ‘raising such a good son’. I felt so happy until my Mum corrected the shopowner that I was a ‘girl’. Thanks, Mum. /sarc

I LOVED pixie and boycuts, but my mom forbade me from getting one (hence me doing the shit I did in number one).

When I learned the term ‘transgender’, I thought that it couldn’t possibly me me due to the stereotypes that have been implanted forcibly inside my head about gender roles. Then, as I watched more and more trans youtubers and videos and learned more and more, I realized “Hey, this shit actually fits me”. Sometimes I didn't feel any gender at all (agender moment-)

One time, I accidentally walked in on a guy peeing in first grade because his dumbass forgot to lock the door. I got chewed out by my disgusting and toxic first grade teacher way more than I should have, but it was in that moment that I realized “Damn. I wish I was born a guy.”

My original favorite colors were purple, blue, yellow, black and white. I was just brainwashed into being forced to like pink by my family because “OH YOU’RE A GIRL YOU HAVE TO LIKE PINK.” I was so uncomfortable with that statement, and aggressively tried to follow it to please my family until my friend said “There’s no such thing as boy or girl things, you do you.” So thank you, friend from elementary school, I owe you everything. 😀

Over Christmas, I’d always watch my cis friends get what they want as gifts. I’d ask for legos and dolls, they’d give me the ‘feminine’ version. I’d ask for new shoes, they’d give me those god-awful neon pink and purple ones. I’d want transformers action figures, they’d give me Monster High dolls. Not that I don’t like Monster High, but still. TF my mates.

I’d always want to attend the parties and community gatherings of the men in our community, and my Dad would jokingly say he’d bring me along if I was a man. My heart would never fail to NOT sink at such a statement.

MULAN.

Doesn’t matter if you think of Mulan as transmasc, transfem, nonbinary, cisgender or literally anything else. Every trans child watching this literally went *vine boom*. INCLUDING ME. YOU CAN’T DENY THAT, BUDDY.

Whenever my Mum would joke about me getting married to a man and having children, I would feel incredibly uncomfortable and ask to change the topic. Of course, they obliged, but the sour taste wouldn’t leave for at least an entire week- and that’s rich coming from me, because my ADHD ass usually forget things very quickly (could also be an intersex moment- I have a weird-ass relationship with ‘biological sex’).

When I got my first period at 13 years old, it was very light, just barely noticeable bleeding. It didn’t make me feel all too dysphoric, and I thought to myself: “Y’know, maybe having a period isn’t so bad.” That is, until my parents threw a Voni ceremony, a ceremony celebrating when an AFAB has her first menustration and she’s deemed physically and spiritually a young woman. It was SO awful, dolled up in makeup and jewelry and dressed up in all the saris they forced me to wear. I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror, but it would’ve broken my heart to shatter the happy expressions of my grandparents. Why couldn’t I have just been their grandson and not their granddaughter…? Actually, y’know what, screw it- even if I was born a guy, I probably still would’ve been trans. (enby moment-)

I was actually happy when me and my mother learned from my doctor that I had PCOS and was thereby intersex at 14. There was an explanation for my hair growth! I liked my body and facial hair- but then came when my mother subjected me to torturous monthly waxing appointments, diets, and forced birth control pills. They even told me I had a ‘high testosterone content’, discussing estrogen treatment, and referred to me as a ‘young lady’ throughout it all. It took all my effort to not cry on the way home.

One time, all my loose shirts were in the washer, so I had to wear a tight shirt. Not only was my autistic ass screaming at how tight and uncomfortable the fabric was, but at how it showed my chest. People were staring- they never commented, but I could already imagine their thoughts. I never wanted to perish more than in that very moment.

The only things I like about my current body are my hips and thighs. Oh, and my thick-ass sideburns, facial and bodily hair, and eyebrows.

I really want to be broad like an AMAB, have a deeper voice like a guy. I’d occasionally ask my parents ‘well what if I was a boy’ or say shit like ‘I wish I was a boy’. I still do.

[abbyflowertale]

New sona dropped let’s go

Wonder how many people thought I was cis

[lordelmelloi2]

I’ve been telling my friends abt this too but like I don’t really have any qualms about Summer Caenus even if there’s a chance he’s going to be treated as a woman and this is by and large bc like... well for one I already know that Caenus has complicated feelings about his past womanhood. And that’s ok because like. The reason why he became a man is rooted in trauma, even if he settled into it, and like.... idk sometimes I just feel like people don’t give that Experience enough credit kind of. 

The other thing too is like ... well this is a more Lived Reality type thing for me but w/Caenus and his manhood and gender performance, like, for me personally I don’t know when I’ll ever be able to get top surgery so I see a lot of myself in Caenus; especially in his performance of masculinity and manhood, like... 

To me at least Caenus reflects those aspects of complex gender where you are adapted into manhood, but you do have complicated feelings about having to live or having lived as a woman, and like even moreso if it’s gender feelings linked with trauma, like, it’s perfectly okay to go back and to sort of like test the waters with that. I want to believe that it’s okay for Caenus to have both feelings as a man and as a woman, or to at least Touch on his feelings of how he experienced womanhood at all bc like. IDK! This is stuff that I Am Going Through Right Now. so it’s kind of weird because like... in his lines he even has a moment of vulnerability where he Talks about the things he used to enjoy before his trauma happened, and he becomes soft-spoken and then he kind of like... goes back to think about it in his bond 5 line and he doesn’t hate himself for it kind of. Like he accepts that part of himself too. The last vestiges of Caenis. He doesn’t have any outright hatred towards that part of himself, he hates Poseidon, but he also kind of spitefully wields the gift from Poseidon and gains power from it, and like.... IDK!!! IDK!!!

what I’m trying to say is I suppose that I wish people would consider it from a complex gender angle instead of just going “Caenus is a man, a trans man, so any feelings of womanhood he has are the writers being transphobic!” when it’s probably more complicated than that. And it’s kind of weird sometimes when people say he shouldn’t have breasts or him being a man or having that body is like insulting because like. That’s...... my body lmfao. I am a man, I have tons of people in my life who treat me like a man, even though I have tits and curves and etc. like. When I see Summer Caenus all I can think is like “wow he looks fucking great!” instead of worrying about how people are going to sexualize him because quite frankly, with this kind of body like. I don’t know. As a man who gets sexualized with that same type of body I’m just used to it. I don’t care. I know people are going to see me as a cis woman w/some gender delusions because of it. That’s not my problem anymore imo. Those people are never going to read gender or respect people in general. My issue is moreso like when ppl who are LGBTI+ start acting like this body can not ever be associated with manhood. 

I understand people who don’t want him to be sexualized based off of that body but I also feel like people don’t give enough respect to men who Have that body in the first place and who even have things they like about that body? Caenus has a line where he blushes after being called an ‘exhibitionist’ and says that since he’s a god he doesn’t give a damn about what he wears. To me at least that’s more liberating than insulting? IDK!!!!

I just get super frustrated as an intersex man w/complex gender when I see talk like this. Like again this is kind of like... what’s going on with Caenus reflects a lot of my lived experiences. So I wish people would handle it with more care because whatever you see is happening to Caenus is Also happening to me 🤪 Until the day that I get top surgery or whatever y’know. 

[ace-oreos]

You must be so sick of alpha and Fordo asks but you’re latest fic has given me angst potential- maybe a one-shot with alpha working with the bad batch to find Fordo post order 66 an him just breaking at the seams when he finds his Vod because he thought he lost Frodo like he lost Sev. Tears and man hugs ensue

Oh I am NEVER sick of Alpha and Fordo asks - they’re such a fun chaotic duo to write for. :D Also, Alpha working with the Bad Batch is something I never knew I needed until I saw your ask and I would absolutely write something with all of them again. I cannot express how difficult it was to not go off on a tangent about Hunter.

In true Sev style, I chose Kashyyyk as the main location for this one. It’s just so useful for these kinds of things.

Also. Y’all. I did not realize until I was four pages into this that I forgot Echo. So uh... whoops?  😅 😂 With that in mind, let me warn you that this is WAY longer than the other fics. I have no idea what happened. I have no idea what I’m doing.

Also also, thank goodness for Wookiepedia lmao

Edit with tags: @dudewhynotthis @merspots @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @delta-the-mando (taglist is open!) 

“Captain.” The sergeant keeps his distance even now, face inscrutable as he surveys Alpha. 

“Alpha,” he corrects half-heartedly, more for the sergeant’s sake than his own. 

“Alpha,” Hunter amends. “We’ll be entering the Mid Rim soon - maybe an hour, hour and a half tops.”

“Good to know.” Alpha knows he sounds despondent at best, but he’s hit enough dead ends by now to know all too well this will likely be a fruitless endeavor. There’s nowhere in the galaxy safe from him - not when his brother’s life is hanging in balance.

But it’s a big galaxy, with little regard for individual yearning or emotion. Alpha can vow to upend the galaxy as much as he likes, but the fact is they’ve only so much time, and only so many resources, and...

And maybe Hunter picks up on that, in that way of his as he observes Alpha without further comment. The sergeant is as much his vod as anyone else Alpha has encountered. Still beyond him sometimes, a little too other for Alpha to ever fully mesh with him or his brothers, but he’s a good soldier. A good man. 

“We’ve always got room for another,” are Hunter’s parting words as he makes his way back to the cockpit. 

If you find out your brother was dead all along. 

Alpha doubts it was anything less than a genuine offer, but it isn’t the only route. Not until I’ve exhausted every other option. And even then....

It doesn’t do, to let himself become so intertwined with a brother until he isn’t entirely sure he knows who he is without the other. He’d tried, both for his brothers and for his own peace of mind, to put a stop to it before it went too far. And maybe that was Jango getting in his head more than Alpha ever should have allowed, but he’d thought it was the right thing to do.

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder...

________________________

“ - you know as well as I do we’ve been going in circles for weeks now - ”

“Yeah, you might’ve mentioned that once or twice…”

“You said it yourself - we’ll get ourselves killed if we aren’t careful.”

“So we’ll be careful.” Hunter’s voice holds a note of finality. “We can keep rehashing this conversation, or we can help a vod.”

Alpha doesn’t catch the muttered reply, but it’s hardly amenable, if Hunter’s sigh is anything to go by. He can’t blame them, really - Fordo isn’t their brother, and outside of combat they’ve little common ground. And it’s only natural for Crosshair to raise the questions none of them are yet ready to face. Alpha thinks he could learn to like the man, given time. 

He reigns in his thoughts before entering the cockpit. The least he can do is put on a rational front. This whole thing isn’t at all rational, but the Bad Batch seem to understand better than others. It runs deeper than brotherhood here, whatever it is, and Alpha is irrepressibly reminded of Fordo, somehow - 

(And osik, does that thought burn, dig under his skin to remind him once again that he failed, that should he redeem himself it will be not on his terms but likely an inconsequential whim of a galaxy that cares nothing for them or everything they’ve fought so hard to hold on to - )

“Y’know, I’m not sure we’ve ever been to Kashyyyk,” Wrecker muses. “That’s a first.”  If he’s trying to divert Alpha’s attention from Crosshair, it’s a skillful effort that almost takes Alpha aback. “‘Course, I only remember the fun parts,” he adds as an impish afterthought.

“Anything with explosives, you mean?” Alpha asks drily. 

Wrecker grins. “Something like that.”

You and Fordo would get along fine.

What leaves his mouth is, “I don’t suppose anyone has any relevant information about this place?”

Right on cue, Tech pipes up from his position alongside Crosshair. “Actually…”

Tech is just as much of an efficient distraction in his own right. It’s not exactly the height of strategy on Alpha’s part, but once again it redirects attention. He has no doubt Hunter sees right through it; still, the man has enough tact to refrain from commenting.

You understand, I think, Alpha decides, watching exasperation and amusement play across Hunter’s face in turns as his brothers’ bickering fills the cockpit. You would go to hell and back for them, wouldn’t you, Sergeant? 

Hunter casts him a wary glance. Alpha holds his gaze.

There’s too much we can’t say. It’s okay, vod - I think I’m starting to understand too.

________________________

Kashyyyk is dishearteningly vast, all sprawling jungles and endless island chains set on a swath of ocean that dissects the planet’s hemispheres. Getting in was no easy task, what with the Imperial blockade cutting off the planet from others in its sector. But Tech’s adroit piloting had come through, and they’d slipped past the blockade with little disturbance.

“You really think your buddy is here?” Crosshair asks dubiously, surveying the area with a distinct air of displeasure.

“I’ve seen the records,” Alpha says, as much to reassure himself as the other man. “The Empire’s tighter with the book-keeping, I’ll give them that. Fordo’s unit lost contact not long before Order Sixty-six went down. If they made it out, it would be on record somewhere.”

“And if they didn’t?”

Alpha battles his temper into submission before replying. “Then they would be confirmed KIA. But they’re still listed as missing as of two weeks ago.”

“Sounds like you’re leaving an awful lot to chance,” Crosshair opines. There isn’t malice in his voice so much as an unmistakable note of disapproval. “What’s your plan if it turns out they were just waiting for reinforcements and pulled out days ago? That leaves us here in the heart of Imperial occupation.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Alpha says grimly. “But if they lost comms before the order came through, then there’s a chance they aren’t with the Empire. Their main focus would be survival, not falling in line nice and neat like Palpatine expects.”

It’s clear there are a number of objections rising to the forefront of Crosshair’s mind, but the man keeps them to himself. There’s a conflict brewing there, Alpha knows, but that’s a matter to address at another time. 

“There’s an area south of here where all comm signals go dead,” Tech announces, tapping furiously at the device mounted on his vambrace. “According to intel, the Wookies call it the Black Forest.”

“Sounds inviting,” Hunter says. “What’s the deal with it?”

“A prison ship crashed there centuries ago,” Tech relays. “The Wookies believe it’s cursed, so they avoid it whenever possible. It’s possible Fordo and whoever was left were driven back by the Seps - or it was a desperate bid and he was banking on the droids not following somewhere they can’t maneuver well. But why cut himself off from allies…?”

“The forward operating base was set up in Kachirho,” Alpha muses aloud “There was another commando squad deployed here, but they were retasked shortly after Order Sixty-six. If Fordo’s here, I doubt he would hang around anywhere with high Imperial activity.”

If he were operating alone, the decision would be simple. But he has the welfare of four other men to consider now; one wrong move, and they’ll all end up on the business end of a blaster.

With that in mind, Alpha looks to Hunter. “Sergeant. What do you think?”

“It’s your call,” Hunter answers. “If you have reason to think your brother is hiding out here, then I think it’s worth taking a look. So long as we go careful, I don’t see why the Imperials should notice us.”

Wrecker’s chuckle fills the comms. “Famous last words.”

_________________________

For all that they have a reputation for being unorthodox - a reputation that is doubtless justly earned - the Bad Batch can pull off stealth pretty well, too. It comes as a bit of a surprise, if Alpha is being honest, but if nothing else the overarching threat of Hunter’s wrath is enough to keep them in line. 

“Keep an eye out for slavers,” Tech warns. “The whole planet has been a hotspot for them ever since the CIS first let them in.”

It’d be just our luck to run into slavers, Alpha thinks wryly. Individually they’re not much of a threat, but a group of Trandoshans spells trouble for anyone. Even without the training to back it up, their brutality can overpower even an ARC trooper. ‘Course, it’d be just like you to get into a mess like that, Fordo…

“We’ll be a bigger target if we travel as a group,” Hunter says. 

“If we split up we might as well ask for a death sentence,” Alpha cautions. Typically his first choice would be to operate alone, but between the slavers, the Imperials, and the remnants of the Separatist forces, he’s starting to think their strength might lie in numbers this time. 

Alpha mulls it over. Greater numbers means slower going. If we split up, we’ll be able to cover more ground. It’ll be risky, but - payoff is worth it. 

“We’ll move faster this way,” Hunter says, echoing Alpha’s thoughts. “Wrecker, Tech, you’re with me. Cross…” He fixes his brother with a stern stare. “Don’t do anything stupid. Alpha has my full permission to stop you by any means necessary.”

Alpha rewards the sergeant with a wolfish grin. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He can’t read Crosshair half as well as the others, but the sniper doesn’t appear altogether displeased. He merely shrugs when Alpha jerks his head towards the route they’ll be following, and trails after him without argument.

Silence lays thick over the jungle. There’s an odd rustle here and there, interspersed with faint growls from time to time, but progress is relatively smooth. Alpha takes pains to remain on guard; just because he can’t see a threat doesn’t mean they’re in the clear. 

Before long the silence is disconcerting. Given the planet’s Wookie population, there should be regular movement around them, or some sign of existence. But this stretch of the jungle is oddly lacking. 

“This doesn’t feel right,” Crosshair mutters. 

“Guess no one’s home,” Alpha answers absently, scrutizining the terrain. “Look - there’s no sign of a fight. Maybe no one was here to begin with.”

“Kachirho isn’t too far from here,” Crosshair points out. “You don’t think it’s a little odd that this path hasn’t been used at all?”

“It is,” Alpha allows, “but look at it this way. We’re traveling the way we’ve been trained to in this kind of setting. The Wookies probably have their own methods for getting around.”

“It’s still weird,” Crosshair decides. “And if your brother really was here, we’d have found evidence of that, too.”

He isn’t wrong, but it nonetheless stings to hear the man voice the doubtful thoughts that have been creeping up on Alpha. Still, we’ve come this far. What have we got to lose?

(More than he’s willing to surrender. But Crosshair doesn’t need to know that.)

“Let’s keep moving,” Alpha says, sharper than he intends. 

“Hang on,” Crosshair says suddenly. “Contact - ”

Alpha pivots in time to see a Trandoshan emerge from the surrounding foliage. The lizard is taller and more solid than he previously anticipated; instead of hitting it head-on like he initially planned, Alpha redirects in order to avoid being gutted on the lizard’s knife. 

He hears the shot and the telltale thump of the lizard falling to the ground. As Alpha picks himself up, Crosshair scans the area through the scope of his rifle. 

“Oh, shab,” the sniper hisses. 

It doesn’t take long for Alpha to locate the cause of Crosshair’s disgruntlement. A group of Trandoshans lurches towards them. Alpha does a rapid assessment: each lizard is packing some sort of ranged weapon - including slugthrowers, he notes unenthusiastically - and most are carrying an assortment of knives.

“Ideas?” Crosshair asks tersely. 

“They’ll just follow us if we run,” Alpha says. “It’ll save us trouble in the long run if we take them now.” 

“I can see why Hunter likes you,” Crosshair says, oddly nonchalant considering the circumstances, and fires. 

With Crosshair covering ranged attacks, Alpha elects the more up-close-and-personal option. The slavers have the advantage of size, but Trandoshans aren’t renowned for their intelligence. As long as he stays in motion the risk of having his throat slit is greatly reduced. 

Alpha targets a straggler first. He hits low, knocking the lizard off balance and sending it staggering into another. The other makes a grab for him, but Alpha is already ramming his vibroblade into the first slaver’s exposed neck. Using the limp body as a buffer, Alpha pushes against the other lizard, trying to force it onto its back foot. 

Just as he feels his opponent’s defense start to give, another three descend on him. Cursing, Alpha throws himself aside before they can hem him in. One of the slavers has enough presence of mind to bring his knife down on Alpha’s unprotected back; the force of the blow has him crashing to the ground. 

Alpha scrambles for a foothold, but one of the lizards seizes his leg in a vicelike grip. He writhes instinctively, kicking out with his other foot. He feels the impact more than sees it and wrenches himself free. 

Just as a third lizard fills the other’s place, there’s a crack from Crosshair’s rifle, and the lizard topples. Alpha springs to his feet to avoid being crushed by several hundred kilos of Trandoshan. The others are wary now, trying to divide their attention between him and Crosshair. 

Alpha doesn’t give them time to choose. This time he uses his blaster to put a round through the closest target. It’s not quite enough to put the lizard out of commission entirely, so he follows up with a quick succession of bolts. 

It’s not exactly an even match, but things aren’t going as badly as he first feared, Alpha thinks. No sooner does the thought cross his mind than his helmet flashes a warning. He turns to deflect the attack coming from behind, but he moves too late and steps directly into the strike. 

The slaver’s curved knife skids off Alpha’s breastplate and sinks into his bodysuit in the gap between the cuirass and the shoulder bell. Alpha manages to pull away, but not before the knife catches the underside of his arm and slices a gash halfway down his bicep.

A line of pain sears through his arm. There’s no doubt the Trandoshan cut deep into the muscle. That arm is effectively useless now; Alpha grimly switches his knife to the other hand. 

He doesn’t have eyes on Crosshair from his current position, but the rasping breaths and occasional curses over the comms suggest the sniper isn’t having an easy time of it either. Time to fall back and reassess.

“Let’s pull back. We might be able to lose them.” Alpha bites the inside of his cheek to suppress a hiss of pain when his wounded arm is jostled. “We can’t take them now, at any rate.”

“You might want to rethink that, alor’ad…”

Crosshair jerks his head to indicate the slavers pouring into the area. There’s a slim chance they’ll be able to slip by, but not without risking serious injury. Slowing down to accommodate a bad hit would mean certain death or capture.

Pinned down. Shabla brilliant. 

Alpha makes an effort to keep his rapidly rising alarm in check. “We’ll have to hold them off, then.”

“There’s no way,” Crosshair objects. “We’re outnumbered eight to one.”

Alpha sends a slaver sprawling rather than answer. He can see it as plainly as Crosshair, but he’s not going to lay down and die, not when his brother is still out there somewhere, not when there’s still a chance they could pull this off -

He hasn’t been this close in weeks and it isn’t his place to gamble anyone else’s life but his own, but even now he can’t bring himself to give in and he understands in a sudden flash of clarity that this is where he will always fail - because he has a foothold, now, and even though all logic points to turning back for once he can’t give in - 

An arm clamps around his neck. Alpha thrashes, trying to throw his attacker off, but now that he’s been caught off guard the lizard has an advantage. His vision begins to blur at the edges and he redoubles his efforts, fueled in no small part by panic at being unable to draw breath. 

He doesn’t know where Crosshair is anymore. He can hardly see beyond his own hands, scrabbling desperately at the arm locked around his neck. 

No sooner does his vision begin to fade than the crushing pressure on his neck abruptly loosens. Alpha hits the ground gracelessly, coughing violently as he tries to inhale. His breath rattles in his throat, but his vision gradually returns. 

He lurches to his feet and assumes a defensive stance as best he can. He’s lost track of how many slavers are still standing - too many is his best estimate.

But the man standing before him isn’t an enemy. He’s -

“Vod,” Fordo says softly. 

Alpha can only stare at his brother in stunned silence, momentarily deaf to the ongoing struggle around them. Fordo....

“Later,” his brother promises. 

______________________

“So how’d you end up running with them?” Fordo asks with a nod towards the Bad Batch. 

“It’s complicated,” Alpha says lightly. “Too much to unpack now, at any rate.”

Fordo laughs. He’s battered and weary, with something lurking in his gaze Alpha can’t quite decipher yet, but it’s Fordo, and that’s more than enough. 

“It’s quiet here,” Fordo remarks. “I like that.”

“‘S nice,” Alpha agrees. 

They’re still hovering just above the surface. Tentative. It’s not exactly what Alpha is accustomed to, but for Fordo’s sake he lets his brother take the lead. 

“Everything’s gone sideways, hasn’t it,” Fordo says suddenly. 

“It has,” Alpha admits. There’s no use pretending otherwise. “But we’ll find a way through.”

Fordo flashes a small smile. “You’re good at that.”

Alpha merely shrugs. There’s a thousand other things he wants to say, but he hasn’t the faintest clue where to begin. Finally he ventures carefully, “Y’know, for a while now I thought this mission did you in.”

Fordo lets out a long sigh. “I was starting to think it might, myself.”

“I…” Alpha breaks off, startled by the sudden pressure behind his eyes. It worsens when he tries to continue. “I don’t know what I would’ve - ”

He falters again. I care more than I should. I never should’ve let that happen, but even now I don’t know if I regret it.

“Alpha,” Fordo says softly, and pulls him into an embrace.

Alpha doesn’t know how much time passes before he finally disentangles himself from Fordo as gently as he can and scrubs at the hot trails on his face. He can’t quite bring himself to feel any shame over it. He’s never been given to such displays, but… Fordo is his vod. 

“So what’s the plan, alor’ad?” Fordo asks with a familiar note of mischief in his voice.

Alpha smiles despite himself. “It’s a big galaxy.”

“We’ve got time.”

“Yeah,” Alpha laughs. “We have time.”

[peter-pan-hoe]

Old Friends Pt 1

Guess Who’s Back Bitches

(Sorry for calling you bitches im just very excited. I love every single of of yall and Im so happy you guys have stuck around during this ridiculous hiatus and i hope to be posting more soon. I just got off my ass today and was like “Alright ya cow its time to write” and i did. Here is the oldest request ive had waiting in my inbox for literal years im so sorry this took so long. Here is part one of what will hopefully be a new series. I’ve taken it in a different direction to start with but i will be swinging it around to meet the request in later parts. So happy to be back. Ive missed you. I love you. Here we go xx)

“So like maybe Peter, y/n, an all the lost boys are having this huge dinner, hanging out and that, and then somehow, for revenge, The Dark One sends one of Peter’s old lovers to the island. That night Peter sneaks off to greet the girl who is STILL in love with him, maybe she puts him under her spell to forget about the reader and then they like almost do da nasty or something and I guess I can leave you to the rest.”

Requested by @bellakae

Warnings: swearing, legit like one f-bomb

I did my best to make Y/N gender neutral but being a cis female I may have missed some gender identifiers when editing and I apologise 

tag list:  @dina3s @just-meh-and-me-dogs @xcastawayherosx @lexymeg

sorry to anyone i forgot. I couldnt find all the asks or my updated tag list. Comment bellow or dm me if you want to be added to the tag list xx

 Every time there’s a new batch of lost boys, or ever just one, to arrive on the island, we have a welcome feast.

The hunter and forager boys gather as much stuff they can find and the cooks put together a huge meal. Given out of the 47 of us that there’s only 6 cooks, we usually have some extra to help out.

When there’s a big group it’s usually because Peter went to the mainland to find boys and bring them here because they weren’t happy at home.

There was that time that 5 or six boys rocked up because they made their way here together.

But if it’s just the one boy, they’re the believers. The ones who wished their way here.

This time around however was because Peter had gone to the mainland.

He usually seemed very happy whenever he came back.

Well no less happy than usual.

He wasn’t sad or angry or quiet like today.

When he returned early this morning with the latest group of boys, he came into our shared hut and stared out the window until morning.

Usually if it’s a late night he would have woken me up to say he was back.

He hadn’t needed to wake me up this time as him simply entering the room had roused me. But he didn’t even look over at me as he walked passed our bed to his little seat on the window sill.

I figured something must be up so I sat up and pretended I hadn’t heard him come home.

  “Oh hey,” I said, faking a yawn. “When did you get back?”

He looked at me with a forced smile.

  “Just a little while ago,” he hopped down from his perch by the window and came to sit beside me. “Did I wake you?”

He gave me a gentle kiss on the head and the leaned down to untie his boots.

  “No I don’t think so,” I lied and shook my head. “I just woke up and you were there,”

He didn’t say anything as he kicked of his boots and put his feet up on our bed.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked. “You seem a little distracted,”

  “yeah I’m alright,” he sighed. “Just ran into an old friend while I was out getting the new boys,”

  “Okay 2 things,” I started. “First is, how are the boys? And how many? And the second thing, was this old friend still a friend or are you not on good terms?”

  “They boys are good,” he replied with a stifled yawn.

I could tell he was very tired, but not his usual physical exhaustion. He seemed tired in his mind.

  “I brought home 14 boys,” he continued. “The youngest 7 and the oldest 17,”

  “That’s a lot,” I said sadly. “All those boys – a 7 year old – lost and lonely,”

  “Mmm,” he nodded in agreement.

  “So what about your friend?” I pressed carefully.

I don’t want to upset him.

  “I’m not really sure,” he sighed. “We didn’t end on good terms but she seemed happy to see me. She even wanted to come back here with us,”

This answer surprised me.

  “She?” I asked nervously.

  “Yeah,” he looked at me apologetically. “Clara. An old… partner of mine,”

  “Partner as in lover?” I asked. “I don’t mind you talking about your ex’s. I’ve got some too y’know,”

I tried to lighten the solemn mood with a giggle.

  “You mean I’m not your first love?” he feigned shock, gasping dramatically and putting his hand over his heart.

  “Oh but you are the truest,” I collapsed into his chest with a laugh.

He held me tight as he lay back on our bed, so I was leaning back onto him.

  “But yes, to answer your question,” he said as he absentmindedly played with a few strands of my hair. “Clara was my old lover. She was someone I met a long time ago,”

I thought about how things would have been with Peter and this Clara.

  “Did she live here like me?” I asked, genuinely curious.

Like I’d told him, I don’t have an issue with him having past lovers. I mean who doesn’t?

  “No,” he said quietly. “We weren’t really bonded like you and I are,”

  “So how did you see her?” I asked as I reached up to brush some of my hair back.

  “Made more trips to the mainland I guess,” he shrugged. “I still only picked up new boys once a month but I went to see her weekly,”

  “But you two weren’t romantically affiliated?” I questioned.

  “Well I wasn’t,” he admitted with a guilty face. “She was very emotionally invested in our… relationship. Whereas I was not,”

  “Oh Peter…” I sighed. “Did you break her heart?”

  “I guess,” he shrugged again. “She started getting really clingy. She didn’t want to come here. I never really found out why but she insisted that our meeting were to take place on the mainland. She began asking me to stay for longer periods of time. Once to the point that Felix came to find me because Neverland’s weather started to turn to a freezing winter. She’d convinced me to stay for weeks at a time more than once,”

  “But she was the only one romantically invested?” I reiterated.

He gave a solemn nod.

  “That’s fucked,” I lay back in the bed and yawned. “How did the encounter go this time?”

  “She seemed the same,” he said carefully. “Like she didn’t even remember that we ended badly,”

  “How so?” I pressed.

  “I came across her in a town market and she ran to me like she was so happy to see me,” he continued.  “She ran to me and wrapped her arms around me like she used to when we hadn’t seen each other for a time. I’m not sure she even realises how long its been,”

He became quiet, thinking.

  “How long has it been?” I could feel my eyelids getting heavy and my voice came out as almost a whisper.

  “Thirty odd years or so,” he brushed some loose hairs from my face, just touching for the sake of touching. “But she left so quickly this time I didn’t even have a chance to ask her why she seems this to be like this. She just said she had errands to run and had to go. That she would see me soon,”

  “That sounds ominous,” I mumbled.

I was processing as much of this as I could in my tired state. I suppose Peter could sense that I was barely awake.

  “Go back to sleep, love,” he kissed my forehead. “We can talk more about it in the morning. Sleep Y/N, we have a big day of celebration to prepare for tomorrow,”

He didn’t have to tell me twice as id already started to drift off from him gently stroking the side of my face.

[ofblair]

welcome aboard, blair reinhart, student #38. we are excited to set sail with you !  has anyone told you that you look like halston sage? according to our records, you hail from san diego, usa, prefer she/her pronouns, are cis female, and are here to study computer science. we also see you received a spot on the ss university because of your online lottery win — we won’t tell anyone. during your first few weeks here, other students said you were tenacious, intuitive, but also vindictive. it sounds like you spend most of your time at the games deck. upon checking your luggage, we noticed you packed your childhood teddy. hopefully your roommates don’t steal it!

hi friends !! please bear with me through these trying times of figuring her out, hopefully she won’t be too all over the place for the first lil bit. i’ll (eventually) work on a more detailed bio but for now here’s all you need to know about blair.

✘ STATS.

name: blair sophia reinhart

nickname: bee or reinhart but nicknames are reserved for the people closest to her.

birthday: november 13th 1997 / scorpio

sexuality: bisexual/biromantic but has a strong preference for women. like 90/10

relationship status: single

positive traits: intuitive, tenacious & valiant

negative traits: manipulative, vindictive & domineering

✘ ABOUT.

she was born and raised in san diego, california but blair never really had a place to call home while growing up. she bounced around from her parents to her grandparents to her aunts and uncles, no one ever fully committing to raising her. she was kind of just an inconvenience tbh. she was too young to completely grasp what was going on in the beginning but as she got older she began to see that her family didn’t care for her much at all and in turn, she didn’t care for them. *insert that cliché angsty rebellious pre-teen here*. blair started getting into any and all kinds of trouble she could find ie; drinking, skipping school, shoplifting, crashing at a friends house for days on end, mostly just for the hell of it or because she was BORED but also because she wanted to see how far she could go before someone noticed and reprimanded her. (no one ever did.)

her grades were never the best but they were good enough to ensure that she could get into college and as far away as possible from san diego and her family. when she heard about the ss university cruise-liner she just knew she had to get a spot on there. her parents were by no means rich and she would never receive a scholarship so the online lottery was truly her only chance. blair had never been one of the lucky ones so she took matters into her own hands and hacked into the whole system, rigging up a win for herself. (okay but think penelope garcia from criminal minds just a whole lot meaner and angrier).

she has that fuck everyone and everything mentality when it comes to p much anything apart from her major and a few close friends. she's a huge computer geek but keeps it lowkey. she can and will hack into anything/everything. she hopes to become a technical analyst someday. blair truly loves the classes she’s taking and for the most part, tries her best. whatever that may be.

she’s cold and hard to crack, not wanting to let anyone in fearing they’ll just end up leaving her the same way everyone always does but she’s the ultimate ride or die bitch and will do absolutely anything for the ones she loves !! like if you take the time to get to know her she’ll probably show up at your door with gifts just to show you her appreciation. she’s not so good with words but gifts??? and even though she may not seem like the friendliest of the bunch she’s very outgoing and charismatic, always down for whatever. like she’s ACTUALLY fun, will never miss a party and lowkey always needs to be included. deep DEEP down she seeks acceptance and approval. she knows she’s a bitch but she’d rather hurt than get hurt y’know ?? she’s a very competitive person, huge sore loser. gets super angry when things don’t go her way.

she also knows how to get exactly what she wants and can be super manipulative. doesn’t care that she’s two faced and will fake a friendship/crush if it means she’ll benefit from it.

✘ FUN FACTS.

she brought her stuffed teddy along with her and it’s literally all she has left from her childhood. she definitely hides it, though.

big fan of “that’s future blair’s problem” and lemme tell you, future blair has A LOT of problems.

literally keeps a list of names of the people who have wronged her at any capacity. idk what she’s doing with it tho. always out for revenge

firm believer that seinfeld is the best show ever made.

lowkey little spoon.

secretly enjoys painting. she won’t let anyone see her do it but she’s p talented and it’s just a great escape and a great way to let all of her feelings out without punching a wall.

anywaaay, that’s all i have for now. i know she doesn’t sound super inviting but i PROMISE she’s not that bad !! hmu on here or on discord @ aubrey#7709 for plots. i don’t have a w/c page yet but just know that i am down for absolutely anything.

[folerdetdufoler]

I don’t know who to ask, because I don’t think I have anyone in ~not online life- to ask, and I don’t really have any online friends.. and please, if this makes you uncomfortable don’t answer. but has being into Isak and even and maybe other gay pairings made you question your.. gender? Or gender presentation? Is it confusing for you?

hey - first of all, thanks for coming to me with this question. i know how difficult it can be to find the answers you need both online and in person because it requires a lot of honesty for everyone involved. as anonymous as this is i’m still honored you would ask me and i hope this can help somehow...maybe by just opening up the topic for other people to chime in.

the short answer is no. i’m going to ramble to give you context but my interest in Isak & even and male homosexuality in general has never made me question my gender. or of the things it’s made me question, my gender is not one of them. i’m open to that happening later on in my life, but so far it hasn’t happened yet.

i’m older though. i just turned 30. my mind has been shaped by a youth raised in an evangelical christian school system. i’ve bucked against religion from a young age but i was still surrounded by a community that passively inhibited questioning of any kind in the first place. i had the internet growing up but i didn’t use it to the extent that i do now, and even what i have access to now, i know is still a very limited awareness of human possibility. skam never posed the question of gender beyond eskild’s pride speech, i think, and i would consider that a stretch. if anything i’ve seen a lot more on tiktok, which i’ve been addicted to for almost two years now, but i also know how narrow that world is because of how the fyp functions. i see a lot more gender representation and discussions on there, which are interesting and educational, but they’ve never been enough for me to question my own identity either (also the censorship on that app is disgusting).

i’m a cis woman. i enjoy dressing in a feminine style but mostly avoid it because of the shape of my body. my goal in presentation has always been to hide my weight, and i would lean toward loose-fitting cuts that would help me feel invisible. i have this faint feeling that this desire to not be perceived might be tied to gender in a way but if it is i haven’t figured that out. i feel like if i were to lose the weight and be comfortable with the level of attention a skinny body attracts, then i would be comfortable in any gendered clothing. i like my female body, i just don’t like my fat body.

which leads me to what i’ve questioned the most: my own misogyny! or maybe it’s not a questioning so much as it is this growing concern that misogyny has shaped a lot of my attention and attraction, leading me to media that just...allows it to thrive. i favor mlm over wlw (is this because i don’t want to see myself represented? or because i don’t want to see women represented? how much of my self-loathing is misogyny, or vice versa?). i read male-centered romances and i write them. i consume male porn almost exclusively (though porn is never a great place to start evaluating your appreciation of women). if i ever insert myself into sexual fantasies, i’m always a woman...i’ve never used gay male porn to like, replace my own desires. but i do find the male body attractive and their attraction to each other is attractive.

while i do write about the male body exclusively, i do want to share my motivations for that as not simply being this thirst for the male body. i find great comfort in isak and even’s basic plot, where they find love and self-worth despite battling both external and internal demons. when i write stories i am mostly chasing that high, that victory. the fact that they’re dudes is just, y’know, the circumstance. and then the fact that i’m writing them explicitly is probably more motivated by my own sexual repression. i’m not getting any because i’m not worth that, but they are so they can. this extends to the other mlm stories i read in that their romance has this social roadblock already in place. the homophobia is implied, whether or not that’s what the actual plot is about, and i give more value to that relationship because i know a struggle has been built in. and then i find comfort in watching other people figure out that their love is worth that struggle, and that their fight is as simple as daring to exist.

(oh god maybe my fantasy is being able to blame someone else for my own problems and still receiving love despite it. let’s unpack that.)

annnnnnyway, back to your point. i think it’s possible that an interest in mlm romance and/or sexuality could reflect a shifting sense of your own gender. there’s that classic question of “do i want to be with you or just...be you?” and sometimes the answer looks a certain way when you identify as a cis woman interested in gay male pairings. maybe that’s what’s happening to me, and maybe i’m just trying to throw different excuses at it to avoid it. like i won’t rule that out, but i also feel confident and comfortable with my identity as it is.

[anotheronechicagobog]

The Crackship Sails To Molly’s - Jay Halstead x Ethan Choi

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

A/N: Homophobia, the Catholic church, Catholic guilt, mention of canon-compliant violence, mention of two men having sex, it’s all pretty mild but I wanted to make sure it was all in the warnings, also I don’t like Doris and it shows

A/N 2: What do you guys think their ship name would be? Choistead? Haloi? 

A/N 3: If you have a problem with LGBTQ people please go fuck yourself

They ran into each other at the last place they thought they would. Since Jay and Ethan had both been in the military, though in different factions, they figured they might run into each other at military events, they already had. But literally bumping into each other at an LGBTQ+ military personnel picnic? That shocked both of them. Ethan took notice of Jay’s pansexual flag pin and Jay looked at Ethan’s bisexual one. After the initial shock wore off, Ethan smiled, he was happy to know that he wasn’t alone in his social circle. Sure, Leslie Shay was a loud and proud lesbian, but they didn’t have anything in common and just made sure to say ‘hi’ whenever they ran into each other and buy each other nachos whenever they ran into each other at pride events (don’t ask, it just became their thing). Ethan went to give him a ‘dude hug’, as Leslie had dubbed them, when he noticed the fear etched onto Jay’s face. “Halstead, are you okay?” Honestly, he looked like he was about to burst into tears. “Jus- uhh” Jay hiccuped and Ethan was now justifiably worried. “Don’t tell Will.” And then Jay ran away from Ethan and the gentle arm he’d had on his shoulder like a bat out of hell. Jay could still feel the warmth of Ethan’s hand on his right shoulder as he drove away.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ethan didn’t tell Will. He didn’t give any indication that he knew something Will didn’t. He understood how important it was for him to keep quiet, but at the same time, it was so hard. Ethan wanted nothing more than to march up to the redhead and beat some sense into him. Will had obviously made to Jay that he wouldn’t be accepted if he came out. And he didn’t care, quite frankly. He had absolutely no sympathy for homophobes, he was done giving kindness and sympathy to people who wished that others wouldn’t exist because it deviated out of what they considered ‘normal’. So he’d gone back to being impassive and straight-faced. He pushed all of his feelings down because if he allowed himself to feel anything it would be complete and utter rage.

The next time he saw Jay was when he’d come into the ED to interview an assault victim. Apparently, there was a group of men catfishing and then assaulting LGBTQ+ men. Ethan’s heart ached just thinking about the case, all of the injured, betrayed victims. And Jay. Ethan didn’t want to know what was going through his mind, he probably viewed this as another reason not to come out.

The eye contact between them was brief, but Jay showed him vulnerability, and then thanks when Ethan gave him a sympathetic smile. Just trying to untangibley reach out and connect with his aching soul. And then suddenly it was gone, the grace that had bound the two of them temporarily, and Ethan had to watch with a sinking heart as Jay emotionally shrunk in on himself. “How’s our victim doing, Choi?”

“Not great, I’m afraid. He’ll live, but there’s going to be long lasting health problems for him.” 

“That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, it is.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days later, after the catfishing homophobes were caught, Ethan ran into Jay outside of Molly’s. His eyes were dark, broad shoulders were slumped, and he moved like his mind possessed all the strength his body just couldn’t muster. “Hey Choi- uh, Ethan?”

“Yeah?”

“Could we go somewhere to talk? Maybe get a drink?”

“Well, we are standing outside of a bar.”

“Somewhere that’s not packed to the seams with nosey people who know who I... Don’t want to hear what I want to talk... About. Y’know what? This was stupid-”

“How about Osso’s? Over on Folger street? It’s not a bar, but I’m starving and their booths have curtains.”

“Yeah, that sounds great, actually, thanks.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I figured out that I was bi when I was fourteen. I was watching The Mummy for the first time and I couldn’t stop thinking about how hot Brendan Fraser was. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Rachel Weisz was hot too, but Brendan really got my attention. When the movie was over, uh, well let’s just say that my Catholic guilt took hold. My mom knew, I told her when I was seventeen, and she kept trying to set me up with her friends’ daughters. She didn’t care, just told me that she loved me and that there was nothing wrong with me, but that I shouldn’t tell my dad or Will. She didn’t sugarcoat anything, she took me to this secluded spot on the pier and told me about homophobia and how bad it was, not just morally, but that it ran rampant, and that my father and brother were two heavy believers in an institution who made it their mission to oppress as many people as possible. Looking back, I think my dad knew, don’t know how or if he actually does, it’s just more of a gut feeling. My brother is still incredibly Catholic, he’s become more accepting over time, but it’s clear that while he’s okay with strangers being LGBTQ+, he’s not okay with anyone he’s close to being anything other than straight. The, uh, my first time I was nineteen and it was during my rangers training, with one of my now best friends, who I dated during that time for a while. Everything kinda fell apart when we got discharged. Mouse or-”

“Greg Gerwitz. I remember him.”

“Yeah, we broke up after we were discharged. Well, he broke up with me. Neither of us were handling being back well but he was handling it worse. It hurt like he;;, I missed him so much. After I started in Intelligence I brought him in as a CI. I just wanted to know he was okay, be near him again. But he was not the same man I’d fallen in love with. He was an addict, had a record, a small one, but still. I broke my heart almost as much as our breakup did. A little later I got him a job as our tech guy. It was good having him around, especially cause he was coming back, y’know? He’d quit his habits, became a law-abiding citizen. It was great. Then, he asked me out, asked me to take him back, and I did. Without a second of hesitation. Being together again felt amazing, but then he got his record expunged, dumped me, again, and went back to the rangers. It completely tore me to pieces, I got time off and didn’t get out of bed for two weeks after he deployed. Uh, wow, sorry to unload all of that on you. And that was probably a lot of information you didn’t want to hear-”

“No, no, Jay. It’s actually nice to talk about this, even though I’m out and open, I don’t actually get the chance to talk about it all that much. I’d actually like to share if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, go ahead.”

“I was twenty-one when I figured it out. I was on brief leave in the navy, just a couple of days without duties while we were docked in Puerto Rico. I got pretty drunk, a guy I was dancing near was pretty drunk too, he kissed me, I kissed him back, and one thing lead to another. When I got back to port the next day, my friends all asked where I’d gone off to. I told them I got laid. It didn’t really hit me until the following night when I was in my bunk, lying awake because I couldn’t forget the feeling of his lips, or the callouses on his hands, or... Other quite honestly filthy details I probably shouldn’t share in a public place. I couldn’t sleep properly for two weeks, I come from a traditional Korean family. All I could think about was how they’d react. What would they do if they found out? I found out when I was twenty-nine. My sister, Emily, had somehow found out, and when she burst through the door, drunk off her ass, at the first Thanksgiving I’d been able to attend in five years, she announced it to everyone when I tried to calm her down and get her up to bed. The look, on my parents’ faces, I couldn’t even look at my grandparents. I just said sorry and ran out. I crashed at a fling’s place for a week. I couldn’t bring myself to pick up the phone or to go see them. I felt like someone had put my chest through a trash compactor, I couldn’t stop crying. I had lost my entire family in less than ten seconds. You know that subtle, back of the mind dread you feel when you’re boarding a plane for your next deployment? Normally, you push it away, accept it’s a possibility but try not to think about it. I welcomed it. I hoped I’d get killed, that I wouldn’t make it home. But then... My grandparents were at my gate. Their faces just lit up and they welcomed me with open arms. They both hugged me and made me promise to come home, not to be a hero. They gave me hope. They loved and supported me, went toe-to-toe with the rest of my family for me. I’ll never be able to thank them enough.”

“They sound really great, I’m glad that you have them.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Suddenly the heavy curtain closing off their booth from the rest of the world was pushed to the side. “Gentlemen, your food is ready. Who ordered the grilled salmon?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ethan and Jay had grown much closer, having bi-weekly dinners. Sometimes at Osso’s, sometimes at Bartoli's, sometimes at their own apartments. They’d become close, close friends. But because drama followed them around like a moth to a flame because it felt like they lived in an overly dramatic tv show sometimes, it couldn’t stay that way.

Jay started to watch Ethan when he licked his lips after he took a sip of a drink, when the muscles in his arms lengthened themselves when he reached for something, that twinkle he got in his eyes whenever he got cocky. Jay knew what was happening from the first moment he found himself looking at Ethan’s lips for more than a millisecond. He was falling in love. And all that he could do was loathe himself for boarding a vessel with impending doom.

Reasons I Can’t Fall In Love With Ethan

Will doesn’t know I’m bi 

Ethan works with Will

Ethan is in the reserves and Mouse left me to go back to a warzone, it would kill me if it happened a second time

His ex, April, is currently trying to get back together with him

April also works with Ethan and Will

Ethan doesn’t love me so I’d just be ruining our friendship

Jay looked down at his list and recited it in his head, over and over again. He needed to memorize it, live by it. If he didn’t his entire world, which he just finally found comfort in again, would crumble to the ground.

Jay didn’t distance himself from Ethan, his heart wouldn’t let him, but it got harder and harder to ignore his ever-growing feelings. But he couldn’t tell Ethan, he couldn’t be with Ethan, he knew that far too well. So the next time Ethan confided in Jay that April had made a move on him Jay did something incredibly, fabulously, thoroughly idiotic. “You should ask April out, man. I think that you guys would be great together.”

Yup. 

He actually did that.

Sigh.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, who is she?”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on Jay, I’m your brother. I know you. The last time you looked like this and were drinking vodka, of all things, was when Erin left. You only drink vodka when you’re experiencing troubles of the heart.”

“I drank vodka when Mouse went back to the rangers.” 

“After he’d broken up with you to go back to the same warzone he’d almost died in.”

Jay choked on his drink and felt his heart plummet out of his body and onto the floor. Burning tears blurred his vision and Jay felt more afraid than he’d ever felt in his life. He’d been shot at, blown up, shot at again, taken hostage, tortured, and he never felt this scared, this small. “Jay? Oh my god, Jay are you okay? Breathe, man.” But he couldn’t. Why couldn’t he breathe? Why was his chest so tight? Why couldn’t he move? Suddenly he was yanked off of his couch and onto the floor, his head shoved between his bent knees. “Deep breaths, Jay. Just take slow deep breaths, in and out, just like me... Okay... Good, name five things you can feel, four things you can see, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.”

“Uh... floor, couch leg, carpet, coffee table... you... Um, I, uh, I see...”

“Four things you can see.”

“Jeans, scrubs, crumbs, Kim’s wine stain... Hear, u-uh, Netflix, heating system, the Needlers arguing again...”

“Your neighbours sure do fight a lot, but you’re doing great. Keep going. Two things you can smell.”

“... Pizza and your terrible cologne...”

“Ignoring that, one thing you can taste.”

“Your terrible cologne. Seriously, Will, your supposed to spritz it, not douse yourself in it.”

“Well you’re feeling better, but you’re still shaking. You feel a bit cold, get back on the couch I’m gonna grab you a blanket.” Will was right, he was still shaking, and he felt cold to the bone. His heart was pounding so hard it was terrifying and his chest was still tight... But he was feeling better. Panic attack. He’d gotten them before, along with anxiety attacks, night terrors, and paranoia. All connected to his PTSD. He’d just never had a panic attack about his sexuality before, only about the action he’d gotten overseas and in Chicago. When Will returned with a thick fluffy blanket he’d gotten from Kim for secret Santa, the same night she’d made that wine stain on his carpet, Jay was on the couch and gripping his knees tightly, trying to get a grip on himself. Will had also brought Jay’s first aid kit and was checking him over, after he’d been wrapped up like a traumatized child, and Jay released a shaky breath, unable to look his brother in the eye before speaking at the same volume as a mouse. “How long have you known?”

Will stopped what he was doing and regarded his brother. Jay was older and had always been Will’s hero growing up but right now... He just looked like he needed a hug. “I’ve known since you were nineteen. You brought Mouse back to visit with you while you guys had leave and when mom and dad had work and I had school, you guys had the place to yourselves. I realized when I was a couple of minutes away from the house that I’d forgotten my lunch, so I went back to get it. When I walked in you guys were making out on the couch. You were really... into each other, you didn’t even notice me. I was gonna bolt to the kitchen and back... But then you took off each other’s shirts and started reaching for belts so I bolted. I love you, Jay, and I don’t care who you have sex with, but I never want to actually see it.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry we must have traumatized you.”

“No you didn’t, I would’ve reacted the same way if I saw you with a girl... Which we both know is true cause you and Erin had a very bad habit of not closing your bedroom door.”

“Sorry about that... If you’ve known all this time, why have you never said anything? I mean you used to make these weird comments about being related to gay people, but...”

“I thought that you needed to be the one to tell me. It was your closet to exit, I thought it would’ve been rude to force it. And about those comments, I don’t know, it’s just you never told me. More and more time passed, and from the letters you were sending mom I could tell you and Mouse were still together but you never said anything. I was trying to give you hints that I don’t care, your sexuality doesn’t matter to me. I love you no matter what. The only reason that I brought up any of this now, forced you out of the closet... I’ve never seen you like this. It rivals when you came back. You are hurting and I want to be there for you, but I can’t if you won’t talk to me, if you won’t let me in.”

“But I’m sinning. You’ve always been more devout than me.”

Will scoffed. “Have you been reading the news? The Catholic church really can’t decide what’s right and wrong considering all they’ve done and covered up. Plus, did you really think I was going to make all my life choices based on the teachings given to me by men who forced us to wear plaid suit jackets for elementary and high school? Really, I can’t wear plaid anymore, I don’t understand how you can tolerate it, I swear I’ve got plaid PTSD.”

“Well, maybe it’s cause I actually have PTSD and there are far worse things to go through than having to wear plaid to school every day.”

“That was a bad comment, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright... So you’re really okay that I’m bi?”

“As long as you're happy, I’m happy.”

“You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that and mean it.”

Jay was tearing up again, but this time they were happy tears. Will just wrapped his big brother in a hug and relished ina feeling of closeness that he hadn’t felt since they were kids.

“Okay, now seriously Jay, who’s giving your heart trouble?”

“I don’t know, Will...”

“As long as it’s not Connor Rhodes I don’t care.”

“Well...”

“Oh no-”

“Ha! Just kidding! Your face, seriously, what did that guy ever do to you?”

“We’re not talking about the man who thinks he’s smarter than me. C’mon, tell me who it is. Is it someone I work with?”

“It’s Ethan Choi...”

“You guys have been spending a lot of time together over the past year, so I can see that. And he’s pan, right? Yeah, I think that you guys would be cute together and I think he’s got a thing for you, honestly. Why don’t you ask him out?”

Jay fell back and groaned. “I told him to ask out April the next time she hits on him.”

Will just blinked and stared at his masochistic and self-sacrificing moron of an older brother. “Why would you say that?! You clearly like him! You idiot!”

“... I’m gonna need the vodka back if we’re gonna keep talking about this.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jay felt like the weight he’d had on his shoulders was traded for another. He wasn’t worried about Will despising his existence anymore, but now he had to watch Ethan date April. And on top of all that, Will was always on his case about his miserably non-existent love life. So yeah, he wasn’t really enjoying his life at the moment. He was currently sitting up at the bar at Molly’s, avoiding ‘chexton’. He could hear April’s giggles and Doris squawking “you’re so perfect for each other!”, “I’m so glad you got back together!”, and “I call maid of honour!” over and over and over again. He knocked back the last of his beer when his phone buzzed.

Mouse: Hey Jay, I’m back on leave for a couple of days, just got off the plane. Want to meet up?

Jay: Sure, you up for a beer at Molly’s? I’m here right now.

Mouse: Actually I was thinking of a different kind of meet up. Your place? Just the two of us?

Jay: Sounds like a plan.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jay and Mouse spent the two days he was home screwing each others’ brains out. That really was the best way to put it. Their time together was hot, heavy, and passionate. They wouldn’t get back together, no, but there was a bond there that would always remain. They’d both had tension that needed to be released and release it they did. Jay dropped Mouse off at O’Hare early on the third day. “Hey, thanks for this weekend. It was nice, it was good to see you again, Jay.”

“Yeah, you too. Stay safe Greg.”

“It’s Greg now?”

“You’ll always be important to me. You were the first man I loved, but you’ve left me twice. I need to move on.”

“It sounds like you already have. I’m happy for you, you deserve nothing but happiness, Jay. But, uh, should you have just spent an entire weekend naked with me if you’re with someone?”

“He doesn’t love me back.”

“Is he straight?”

“No, but he’s pan and got a girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry Jay. For your situation and everything else.”

“I know. Stay safe.”

“I will.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jay turned on his phone for the first time since he told Mouse to come over. He was met with an abundance of texts and missed calls. The texts were mostly from his colleagues, asking if he was going to be at Molly’s. A couple were from Will, asking if he wanted to get together to watch a game. The person who’d sent him the most texts and had made most of the missed calls was Ethan. Jay didn’t bother going through them all, he just sent his brother and Hailey quick text messages letting them know he was alive and would be at work on time, he’d just spent the weekend with a friend. He called Ethan as he made his way through the city. “Jay? Are you okay? Where have you been? I’ve been so worried, I called your brother and Hailey and none of them could tell me anything.”

“I was okay, I was at home the whole time.”

“But I went by your place, I knocked on your door, no one answered.”

“Oh, that was you? I thought it was Karen from down the hall. I was a little... Busy.”

“All weekend? Alone in your apartment? With no assigned case or old case that’s been bothering you?”

“Well, I wasn’t alone, actually.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Mouse was on leave for the weekend so he came over.”

“... You were alone with your ex-boyfriend for an entire weekend... Doing what?”

“Each other.”

“Damnit, Jay.”

“Eth-” And then Ethan hung up. Jay was confused and distressed, but he’d arrived at the district so his relationship with Ethan would have to wait. Well, friendship, not relationship.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Voight needed someone to go collect a statement from an accomplice at MED Jay’s reaction rivalled that of Katniss Everdeen. He was given a couple of odd looks, but he and Hailey made their way to the hospital, Hailey side-eying him the whole way. “Do you need to talk to Ethan?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“He hounded me for two days because you weren’t texting him back. He was really worried, Jay. What’s going on with you two? I mean, he was acting like...”

“Like what?”

“Like a worried boyfriend.”

“We’re not dating Hailey. Why would you think that?”

“Because you two look at each other the way Trudy and Mouch look at each other. Like you’ve hung the moon and the stars for each other. I don’t judge, Jay... You’re always really happy around him. I think you’d be good together.”

“He’s dating April.”

Hailey scoffed and rolled her eyes so hard her head rolled with them. “No, they’re not dating. She was acting like it, and Doris was yapping away about it on Friday at Molly’s, but Ethan was just quietly sitting there the whole night, he looked really uncomfortable honestly. A couple hours after you left he asked April if they could speak in private. It didn’t stay that way for long. Ethan had tried to tell her that he didn’t want to get back together and didn’t love her anymore, and she was upset, obviously. But it seemed like she understood. She hugged him and went to sit back at the nurses, but I guess she told them and Doris blew up, screamed at him, made a huge scene. April had to actually take her home. Ethan immediately came up to me and asked where you were.”

“Oh.”

“So you volunteered us to talk to him?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey Ethan.”

“Can we talk, Jay?”

“Yeah, I’d really like that.”

“The doctor’s lounge is free, we can talk in there.” They entered the darkened gray room together, both feeling the tension between them. It felt strange to just stand there, in the middle of the room, and Ethan wasn’t meeting his gaze. So Jay sat down, hoping that Ethan would follow his lead. He did. “I’m sorry that I worried you.”

“Don’t apologize, I should actually be apologizing to you. You didn’t owe me an explanation, we don’t have the kind of... Relationship that warrants you letting me know when you’re going to disappear for a weekend with your ex. We’re just- We’re just friends.” Jay was silent for several moments, trying to think of what to say. How to phrase what he was feeling. There didn’t seem to be an eloquent way to phrase it, so he decided to just jump in and hope he didn’t get hurt. “I don’t want to be friends with you Ethan. I want to be more than that, I love you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but- I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I’ve been trying to distract myself, with Mouse most recently, but it didn’t work. It doesn’t change that I really want to kiss and date and be loved by you. Will you go out on a date with me?”

“Yes, there is quite literally nothing else I’d rather do. How about tonight, because I don’t think I can wait any longer. And I love you too.”

“I know that the wall behind us is basically just a window but I really want to kiss you-” Thankfully Ethan didn’t care about that, and gave Jay a kiss so incredible, he saw stars.

... And missed Hailey and Will high-fiving behind him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After informing the accomplice that he was being arrested for armed robbery, obstruction of justice, and public urination, Jay and his partner left MED. Jay was so happy he was practically vibrating as he skipped out of the hospital. His, highly amused, partner got into the passenger side of his truck and thumped his shoulder. “See? I told you that he likes you.”

“How did you figure out I’m not straight, anyway? I’ve... Played that pretty close to the vest. I only told Will a week ago.”

“You know Nico’s Diner over in Greektown?”

“Yeah.”

“My family owns it. I started working there when I was nine, I think? I worked there through high school and college. And I go there once a month to catch up with my brothers. You used to go there all the time with this guy and you’d hold hands and kiss him quite a bit, so I figured you were more than friends. I recognized you when I walked onto that robbery scene a couple years ago.”

“So you knew, this entire time, that I was bisexual and you didn’t say anything to anyone? Why not?”

“It wasn’t my place to tell Jay, besides, I didn’t know that you were bisexual, just that you liked men. I just spoke up now because you were really hurting Jay, it was so obvious, and it was obvious that Ethan was hurting too. I really hope that you guys are happy together.”

“Thanks, me too.”

“Soooo... Where are you gonna take Ethan on your big date?”

[the-queer-look]

Queer Uber Fund

Name: Gloria Demillo Age: 25 Location: Melbourne Occupation: Digital Copywriter/Poet Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Gender: Non-Binary

I used to really care about how I presented, especially in the workplace because I work in both a corporate environment, and in art spaces, people expect you to look a certain way if your gender is a certain way. Sometimes I think people expect me to be more masc, which I find strange in art spaces, I said I was Non-Binary, not that I was masc y’know? People will send me audition callouts for acting with “identifies as trans-masc” on them which is always weird. Honestly I just wear what I feel comfortable in, or for the weather, which is a statement in and of itself. Before I realised I was non-binary it was very performative – I really did dress for other people, or how they perceive me, or how I want them to perceive me. But now I just don’t care, as long as they perceive me as hot.

I’ve always had a feeling about not being straight, but I’ve never had the language for it because I grew up in a very conservative christian church. It was like “gay is bad” but all of the language around it was centred on men, with nothing to say about women being with women, or both. Like… what’s the grey area there? I was raised and socialised as a woman so… was this only a male centric sin? I started to have a language for it at uni, which helped because I found ways to discuss something I’d always felt, but didn’t know how to explain. When I look back at my childhood and how I expressed myself it just… makes sense. I had this favourite shirt, just a really dark shirt with a lion on it, and I’d always wear it with these little pink shoes with pom poms on it, and that aesthetic of really daggy clothes with really nice shoes is really the modern queer aesthetic.

It was mid 2019 when I realised I was non-binary and then I came out in October of that year, but there was such a long process. I was thinking about gender in uni, and then when I was experimenting more with how I presented myself and letting go of a lot of the ways in which I was socialised to behave. Being socialised as a woman was really violent for me – I don’t know how else to describe it – I had a lot of expectations put on me about my body, and how I should act, and how I should be in relationships, and when I was dealing with all of that gender stuff, it was very freeing to no longer have to live up to this arbitrary standard that was forced upon me. It was also much easier for me to talk about it because I was surrounded by so many lovely trans and non-binary friends, but of course talking to my cis friends about it was very… ugh...

I think when I found the language for my sexuality not much changed in the way I presented myself, it wasn’t until I found the language to express my gender as non-binary that there was a change in the way I thought about myself and how I was being perceived my relationship with my body. I really felt it, It was such a different transformation, I was so genuinely happier in my body, and stopped caring about how other people perceived me, and whether or not my presentation made sense to other people. I’ve stopped wearing clothes that are really tight. I don’t know why, but everything I had before coming out about being non-binary was very tight, very fitted, and now everything is very loose and flowy. It isn’t that I don’t like my body, I love my body, but now mostly what I wear is loose and billowy and doesn’t hug me so tightly.

To me the term Queer encompasses a description of my gender and sexuality that isn’t just one thing because its such a broad label. The way it was introduced to me was like a very radical and subversive way to refer to ones gender and sexuality, and I love that it’s been reclaimed by the community as a whole, though I completely understand those parts of the community that are uncomfortable with the term being used at all due to the way it was used in derogatory ways for so long, especially when used by persons outside the community. I’m sure that there’s going to be a generation coming up that will have no negative associations with that word, in the same way that I have younger queer friends that refer to each other using the F slur as a term of endearment, when I wouldn’t use it with most people.

I’ve always had a lot of queer friends, but I don’t think I started going to a lot of queer specific parties until the last three or for years. Queer events too, drag shows, musicians, poets and artists and other queer specific events. It hit a point where I just didn’t want to go to another straight club. They don’t feel safe, and I cannot just sit there and listen to another Ed Sheeran or Drake song when I want to dance y’know? I’m not a huge fan of the fact that queer events always focus around a party or something, I just want a quiet queer event like a queer book club or something. I’m going to join a queer climbing club or something, just be more involved.

I love being around other queer people, but there’s also a lot of racists around. Just because the event is queer does not mean the event is safe. You’d think that we would have dealt with intersectionality by now. Genderqueer people are more aware because we live on the margins of society and have for like… ever. But I find it really frustrating when people create queer events that aren’t accessible – people with different sensory needs, comfortable for people of colour, accessible for people with physical difficulties etc. I remember the first time I went to a queer club event with a quiet room and I lost my mind, like I wanna be at the club for six hours, but I want to sit down and have a break with just a little noise for a while y’know? It was so beautiful and safe.

K: What challenges do you see still facing the queer community today? Gloria: Racism

There are so many things, being trans-non-binary and a POC I get to see it all but like. People within the community that just straight up hate trans people? The phobia is coming from inside the house! Unlearn that shit queers! Some people in the community get rights? Like they can get married, get recognised, and then they turn around and say “us? we’re the good gays” shut the fuck up. Yeah, internalised phobias within the community? We need to unlearn that as a group, that’s a group effort.

Racism, ablism etc, we need to get rid of those because intersectionality is a thing. I also think that there’s so many laws that are trying to literally kill people in the community so like… I don’t know if we need to crowd fund some community lawyers or something, but we need to get some protections from these people who are out here doing their most to keep us down. I also think that cishet people really need to do better, even the ones that say they’re all about allyship will say that they’re on your side and then take you right to a straight club and like hey, what’re we doing here? I think cishet people don’t understand that there are certain spaces that, for non cishet people, are just inherently unsafe y’know? There isn’t any thought as to how their queer friends are safe going somewhere, or how they’re presenting is safe. When cishet people come into spaces that are meant for queer people yeah it’s just a party and a grand old time, but queer people don’t have that same privilege or concept of space y’know? At a straight club I could just disappear because some homophobe clocks me as queer and has a problem and what would y’all do about that? Cishet people walk around like life is this RPG that they’ve unlocked all parts of, and are free to go anywhere, and just don’t realise that there are places that they perceive as totally safe that are completely unsafe for any queer person to be in. We can’t even go to certain countries? We can’t live in certain suburbs of Sydney! People get bashed in fucking Newtown for being gay. Cishet people, especially if you say you’re an ally, or go into our spaces to have fun, why don’t you take a few seconds to think about the safety of your queer friends? Why don’t you pay for our Ubers and shit, make sure we get home? don’t just text me “are you home safe?” be about it!

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[spell-card-fusion]

Taking Charge

An awful smell hits your nostrils as you make your way through Green Hill Zone; It completely upset what SHOULD be a very pleasant experience of breezing through the forest covered part of your sister’s home. 

The smell however is nothing new, so you don’t really notice it. In fact, even if there being a smell at all is kind of upsetting, you are grateful. The pollution isn’t as heavy on these parts of South Island, making it so that the sky is actually blue. All things considered it’s one of the better places to be, so long as you stayed away from the sea and desert areas. 

You decided from an early age that you’d be grateful for the small victories, but not complacent enough to accept defeat. Your sister taught you that.

Your twin tails make a pleasant and comforting sound behind you as you propel yourself forward towards her home. You’re hoping to have a good time today, again, you try to value good times when they come.

Your name is Ellie “Tails” Copper (the fox). Even though you are eight years of age it is only today you’ll be visiting your sister’s home for the first time.

You’re sure it’s gonna be a rad time.

You’re checking some info on your Ellie Electric. The Ellie Electric is a recent invention, sort of your attempt at replicating Aunt Sally’s “Nicole”. You’re very proud of it, and basically never leave home without it. You tap the screen a few times checking over the coordinates. You don’t actually need to do this as you have photographic memory, but it eases this annoying feeling of anxiety you have.

Eventually you don’t have to look though. You look up to see...Perhaps the largest plane you have ever seen. This thing is massive!! You doubt it was made for Mobians OR Humans. And you don’t think Seedrians would make something like this either!

Maybe Black Arms? Though the thought of those being here and leaving such a thing behind is concerning to you. You don’t want Mobius to end up like Earth.

Oh! You’ve been spacing out while thinking about all this, trying to work it out in your head, a way too common ocurrance. You really need to stop getting lost in your own thoughts, that’s how he gets you.

You take one last look at your surroundings before you knock the door. No badniks around, but you can still see the ominous tower of Prison Hill at the distance. 

You knock on the plane’s door, once. You don’t have time to think about knocking a second time when it opens, just like that.

Standing in front of you, just slightly taller than you is your big sister, Roll The Hedgehog. 

She looks great as always. All bright and blue, shooting you a sharp toothed friendly smile. Her quills styled in a mohawk, but kept big and long enough that she can still curl into a ball. She wears green shades on her forehead, a leather jacket with sleeves torn off, and a red running jumpsuit with a stylized symbol of two blue stars. The Freedom Fighter’s Symbol. You wear one too on a pin on your bomber jacket.

“oh slam!! ellie copper coming through!” She says in a fun tone of voice while making way for you to enter her home. You laugh, she always makes this joke but it always gets you anyway. A sister joke. It helps that you love hearing your new name.

“nice one! keep ‘em rolling sis!” You joke back, and she laughs way too loud so you know it gets her. You slap some double fives as you make your way in to keep it cool. She slaps HARD though but you pretend it’s no biggie.

“welcome to the rolling thunder lil’ gal!” The Rolling Thunder being, of course, what she calls her crib.

Honestly you have mixed feelings about the place. The walls are covered in honestly very cool grafitti depicting all manner of radical words such as “Juice” and “Jam”. Stylized pictures of stars, guitars and other cool stuff. But also a graffiti mural of the old Green Hill Zone on one wall. 

The place is undeniably messy though, and dark. The lights didn’t work and it was kind of dusty in here. There was furniture, but all the couches were torn no doubt by Roll’s quills, and you knew the fridge and microwave didn’t work. It occurs to you that if Roll wants to shower she likely has to turn to the dirty contaminated Beach water.

It was the reality many Mobians lived, but Roll rarely- if ever complained, not these days anyway.

You notice it actually smells pretty nice in here however, so you can’t complain.

You are snapped from your in depth thoughtstream by Roll snapping her fingers in front of you. To anyone else that might seem rude but you actually really appreciate it.

“oh!! it’s pretty sweet in here- smells pretty nice too!!”

Roll’s grin turns into a soft smile. She closes the door behind her. “yeah it’s from my hangspace- come here i’ll show you! it’s honestly the best part of this place”

She leads you to another room, and a specific seat. Must have been from a lower class section of the plane. She kicks a seat and it opens up to reveal a slide. She waves you over, curling into a ball and letting herself fall. You just decide to slide down instead. 

You feel like you should be having more fun with this slide, but honestly? You feel like maybe you outgrew stuff like this. You’re more focused on why there’s an underground base under this crash site at all.

You thankfully don’t have enough time to get lost in your thoughts when you are surprised by all the green you see.

No, not just green. Yellow and Blue and Red and all sorts of colourful plantlife. Grass and flowers everywhere, far underground. The air is free of pollution and honestly it’s a bit overwhelming, in a good way. There’s small lamps everywhere, no doubt charged with battery power that are giving certain plants light. How much would those cost? You know Roll isn’t doing the best money wise.

You put the money concerns aside for now. Aunt Sal drags her enough about that as it is.

“It’s like a little greenhouse!!” You say with some pretty genuine excitement in your voice. You do this just in time to notice the guitar in the corner of the room, which Roll reaches for and starts fiddling with, testing the strings. The guitar looks incredibly worn out. 

“it is!!! this is where i like to nap, and jam- these lil’ guys love all kinds of rockin’ tunes, they like to party it up like it’s the new millenium!! i just jump in and start playin’ and these lil’ dudes sway and dance all day. it’s pretty chill”

She then points to the tallest flower in the garden. A blue spiky one.

“I call this one Roll The 2nd. I love her!!” She then points the the SECOND tallest flower, an orange one. “This one is Tails Squared- because you’re a square!”

She jokes while ruffling your hair, you grumble a bit. You don’t actually mind at all though.

“They’re very cool!!! Not many places with clean air in this planet....Hey- Roll?”

“What’s up sis-not-cis?”

“I was wondering if-” You laugh, you just got that. “HANG ON WHAT- SISNOT-” That freaking GOT you. You’re on the grass, laughing. Roll looks pretty smug from up there.

“you good there ellie?” She says, lightly pressing the top of her shoe against your arm in a mock kick. “did you just die from my mondo groucho humour?”

You laugh harder. Eventually you stop and you get up. She looks like she’s queen of the world from how smug she is just for making someone laugh.

“Okay so- so- hang on” You need time to catch your breath “I was wondering if maybe this thing could fly again?”

She shakes her head, once. “Nah! That’d probs give me away to the local Egg Boss. Aint want one of those shellmunchers on my tail, y’know?”

“Oh..”

“Although...” She puts a hand to her chin. “we can’t fly it right now- but getting it flight ready just in case might be a good idea! I’ll have to run it by sal, she’s always ready to fund anything if it gives us a hypothetical advantage, what with the trap cards and mind games and such”

You’re only half listening at that later half because you’re already fiddling with some exposed cables from the wall. Sometimes you just take charge without thinking first, it’s probably a bad ha-

Oh! The lights just turned on!

“OH SLAM!! WHAT?” Roll looks absolutely ecstatic “SIS YOU’RE FREAKING AMAZING-”

Roll cheers and goes on about how she has a fridge and a microwave now. And how much fun you’re gonna have fixing this old place together. Overall you think you did good.

Yeah, this was a fun day. You hope you get days like these more often.

[moonscarsandstars]

this is my first time writing a trans character, and as someone who’s cis, i’ve never experienced dysphoria. so please call me out if i got anything wrong, and if i did, i’m really sorry.

tw; dysphoria, anxiety / panic.

~~~

“What’s in that letter?”

Regulus looked up from his book, eyes meeting Sirius’s. Sirius hastily crushed a browning piece of paper, and stuffed it in his pocket.

“None of your business,” snarled Sirius, slouching back in his seat.

In Regulus’s opinion, this event was too glamorous to be considered a funeral- really just an excuse to match up more cousins, and produce more heirs. The large hall had been cleared of Uncle Alphard’s hoards of collections.

It seemed so foreign, not like something uncle Alphard would’ve been a part of.

“What is it? There’s something, and I know it,” he said through gritted teeth, trying to dull out the noise as more people came in.

“It’s nothing,” Sirius spat out like poison, glaring at Regulus. “Even if it was something, you’d go and blab about it to Mother and Father, wouldn’t you?”

Regulus tried to swallow the guilty feeling that rose up in his throat. “I’d only tell for your safety.”

“Safety?” Sirius barked out a loud, bitter laugh.

“Shh!”

“They’d kill me! They’d kill me if you told half the shit you cant keep inside your mouth.”

“That’s not true,” whispered Regulus, wishing the ground would swallow him whole as piercing glares turned towards the two of them.

“It’s true and you fucking know it,” he growled.

“Why don’t you give them a chance, Sirius? Y’know they’re actually human too.”

“Human?! They’re fucking monsters. You wouldn’t know, would you? You’re the perfect son, aren’t you?”

Regulus felt that familiar pang of emotion, and twist in his stomach. He swallowed thickly, biting his lip to keep tears or shouts escape him.

Something felt wrong. Something was wrong.

Sirius slipped the paper in between a book with a purple cover, before storming off outside. Regulus sighed, staring back up at the giant crystal chandelier hanging off the ceiling, and trying to shake off that feeling of dread, along with his chest tightening.

~~~

That tightening feeling didn’t go away, and by night, Regulus could barely keep from screaming. He let his nails travel over his dry skin for maybe a second of being able to fucking breathe.

“Fucking Sirius,” he muttered to himself, getting up from the bed and stretching fingers through his hair, feeling another wrench in his gut.

A sudden creek made him jump out of his skin, as he jumped back to bed and tried to keep as still as possible.

Peering through a think gap in the blanket, he saw his mother walk quickly down the corridor. He caught a glimpse of her black earrings- the ones that cost more than the house they lived in. She always wore them when going out.

Where could she be going now?

Regulus walked softly, avoiding the unsteady planks of polished wood, as he slowly followed her.

“Reg?”

Regulus snapped his neck around, to see an exhausted Sirius in his pajamas, a large, blackening gash across his cheekbone.

“What happened?” Whispered Regulus, moving closer.

“Dear mother,” he mumbled, irking a “sh!” from Regulus. He went back to whispering. “She wants me to get married.”

“Married? You’re fifteen!”

"When I’m sixteen. Didn’t you know that the bitch- Bella got betrothed at fifteen?”

“What?!”

“I know, brother, this family is a little fucked up.”

There was that unexplainable wrench in his gut, that made him nauseous again. He swallowed, willing for it to go again.

“Please don’t say that.”

“What? That this family’s dysfunctional, fucking abusive-”

Why was he feeling dread? Why was he feeling uncomfortable? Why was his skin crawling?

“-but of course, you’d never know, would you? You’re just going to grow up to be the producer to the next heirs-”

Ounces of anger were building up in him.

“-because you’re the perfect boy, aren’t you? You’re just their model, to show to the rest of the world-”

Rage that Regulus couldn’t explain was filling him, almost erasing the itching feeling that made him want to scream.

“-son, aren’t you? The perfect inbred father to-”

“Don’t call me a him!”

If there was any calm between the brothers before, it had completely disappeared now.

“What did you say?”

Sirius didn’t sound snarky, nor did he sound angry. Instead, in a way... confused? Gentle? Regulus couldn’t tell. Especially not with the growing fear that was piercing through his veins.

Ice was travelling through him, and suddenly everything was rotating round him. There was no oxygen in the air.

Suddenly, a bony, uncomfortable hand landed on his shoulder, grounding him back.

“I will not have my son acting weak. Pull yourself together.”

That was it.

Regulus didn’t know what was happening, but before he knew it, he was running faster than he’d ever before. Breaths were tearing at his lungs, and his legs were burning.

Cold, icy air hit him like a wall, and he suddenly stopped to see the tall gates of the entrance to the manor. 

“Reg! Reg, wait up!”

Sirius’s voice only further made the fear in his chest multiply. Suddenly, he was being hugged, trapped, and he couldn’t breathe.

“Get- get off me!”

The tight arms let go of him, and he could breathe. He could see tears in Sirius’s eyes, running down his cheek. Both of them were shaking in the cold, and Regulus couldn’t keep his jaw from clattering.

“Reg,” he sobbed. Sobbed- something Sirius never did.

“What, Sirius?”

Fear crept slowly up inside him.

Sirius’s arms wrapped around him, and he swallowed tightly, begging for tears to keep themselves from rising.

~~~

Sirius’s bed was much softer than Regulus’s, and it felt like he was sinking in the mattress.

“D’you honestly sleep in this?”

“I’d rather sleep in this than that plank of wood you call a bed,” snorted Sirius, as Regulus felt his hands over the mattress.

A few moments of silence that felt strained against Regulus.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

No he didn’t. Yes he did. Did he?

That feeling rose up again. Might as well get this over with.

“It irritates me when you and mother call me a boy.”

Sirius’s eyebrows shot up. Regulus’s heart skipped a beat. 

This wasn’t a good idea.

“So... you don’t want to be a boy?”

“I- uh- I-” the words were stuck in his throat. It was such a simple question, yet it meant everything to Regulus. “I don’t know! No?!”

“You- you aren’t a boy, then? So are you a girl?”

“No!”

Now Regulus was just being stupid. What else was he supposed to be? He was just overreacting now. He was going to apologise, go to bed and-

“So you’re non binary?”

Regulus’s heart skipped a beat.

“What?”

“Are you non binary?”

“What does that mean?” Regulus asked cautiously, keeping himself as guarded as he could.

“It means you aren’t a girl or a boy. Aren’t you?” Sirius looked at Regulus, whose heart was beating rapidly against his chest. 

“I- I think I am,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice from breaking. “I’m non binary?” He asked, almost as if he was trying the word out on his tongue.

“Are you?”

“Yes- I- I am.”

“So do you want to be a ‘they’ and ‘them’?”

“What?”

“Instead of people calling you ‘he’, I meant.”

“Yes,” muttered Regulus, as realisation dawned on him. Though he felt scared sick, that feeling of tension had never disappeared, leaving him feel so... clear before.

“Mother won’t be okay with this,” he said with a laugh.

There it was. There was the part where Regulus would realise that nothing would work out for them.

Them.

It felt right. Like something finally clicked in place.

“What if mother finds out?” Asked Regulus, not sure if they wanted the answer.

“She won’t. I promise.”

Neither of them knew who started it, but in a second, Regulus and Sirius were hugging tighter than they’d ever before.

“Thanks, Sirius. Thank you so much,” they muttered between sobs.

“Your welcome. Don’t ever forget- I love you.” 

[kindness-ricochets]

SoC Hospital AU

First & most important, thank you to a friend for sensitivity reading this (not putting a name because I don’t have permission to do that, but you know who you are <3). Even so: I am a cis writer including a trans character, so if there’s anything wrong or inappropriate in the fic, please tell me. It is never my intent to cause anyone offense.

TW: misgendering (some out of ignorance, some less so), allusions to suicide attempts

This place was too cold. Jesper lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, with the covers pulled up to his shoulders. The crocheted blanket didn’t really keep him warm. As he tried not to die of boredom, he slid his fingers into the gaps and out, wriggled them all the way through and—

Crap.

He looked at the blanket. How had his knuckles made it through the weave only to get stuck?! Jesper tugged at it, but ultimately needed his other hand. His stitches hurt when he sat up.

It wasn’t like he had nothing to do, either. His homework was right there. A guy couldn’t even have appendicitis these days without a little APUSH reading to go along with it.

He poked at the stitches and resolved not to do it again.

The hospital was a boring place. Presumably the surgery itself had been a little more exciting. Jesper barely remembered it. How was that for a bit of luck?! One of the most exciting things to happen in a guy’s life and he was all delirious! So now he sat on a semi-comfortable bed in a too-cold room. He had a window, at least, not that he could see much through it. A curtain was drawn across the room long-ways, like he might get jealous of that empty bed and… and race them or something. Yeah, like rig up an oxygen tank and have a two-bed hospital race, that would be cool!

He wasn’t going to, but it was fun to imagine.

Jesper knew he should do some reading. Exams and all that. But he knew it was pointless, to. His mind would wander after a few minutes. And if he was being honest, he didn't actually want to study. Didn't he deserve a break? A proper sick day?

So he leaned back and decided if he was stuck on his own, he might as well entertain himself. He sang to himself. He started with “Walk the Line”—picked up courtesy of his father, who hadn’t even been born when it was first released, but played Johnny Cash all Jesper’s childhood.

It was a good song, anyway.

Jesper waited a moment after the end of it, pausing for an imaginary audience.

“Thank you so much, it’s an honor to be here tonight. Now, for my next hit, this is ‘Party in the CIA’ by Weird Al Yankovic…”

And obviously he had to do a few moves, it was a song that just begged for finger-guns, imaginary sunglasses, and pretend tie-straightening. He limited the moves after an objection from his stitches, but that in no way limited his good time. Except, Jesper had only got to a line that always got him—“We got snazzy suits and ties/and a better dental plan than the FBI’s!”—when he heard… laughter.

Jesper stopped the song.

“What the—I thought I was alone!”

There was no answer.

“Well, now I know I’m not, so you might as well speak up.” And ideally his roommate could confirm his age. Jesper was seventeen, so they had stuck him in the pediatric ward. He hoped he wasn’t bunking with a kid—that would be… weird. Plus he’d have to work on not cussing.

“H-hey,” said the other guy. He sounded a little younger, but Jesper couldn't be sure.

“Hey! So you like Weird Al?”

“Who?”

“Weird Al Yankovic. Never mind, never mind. How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Cool, I’m seventeen. So what’re you in for? I had my appendix out.” And his roommate was close to his age, so he had someone to hang out with! Jesper glanced at his APUSH book, then back to his fingers tugging at the blanket.

“Did it hurt?”

Jesper hadn’t initially said it was appendicitis. He hadn’t known. He thought he just felt miserable, but he didn’t want his parents to worry. By the time he couldn’t pretend anymore that he was okay…

“Nah. They knocked me out, anyway. I’m just bored.”

“Me, too.”

“Want to play Twenty Questions?”

“Sure. You pick something first.”

“Got it. It’s a person.”

The game continued for a while. It wasn’t Jesper’s favorite game in the world, but it kept him occupied—that and toying with the blanket—even as they got into an argument over whether or not “a field” counted as a thing. It totally did, a specific field would have been a place, but this was a kind of place, which was a thing. 

“No, a place is a place, you can’t just decide a place is a thing!”

“Yeah, if it were a specific place, but it’s not a place. It’s a category of places.”

“So a room would be a thing, but this room is a place?”

“Glad we agree.”

“That is ridiculous.”

Jesper laughed. He was about to retort that it wasn’t ridiculous, it was logical, when the door opened. 

“You look cheerful,” Aditi Hilli reported, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Just cold and my stitches are itchy.”

“Itchy means healing,” she said, smoothing a hand over his hair. 

“There you go, siding with medicine again!”

He knew she only had a minute. She wasn’t treating him, that would be a severe conflict of interest, but she had found time in her shift to stop in. So Jesper didn’t waste time groaning. He didn’t even put up a fuss when she hugged him.

“Are you dizzy or in any pain?”

“No.” It was a medical question, but he understood that it was a mom question, too. It was a how are you question with more detail.

“Have you—”

“Ma, I love you, but I am not talking to you about pooping.”

“Honestly, Jesper, I changed your diapers.”

“Ma!”

“After an appendectomy—”

Jesper grabbed the pillow and wrapped it around his head like massive earmuffs as he informed her, loudly, “Not listening! Not listening!”

She shook her head at him and checked his chart. Okay, fine, she knew she could get that information. He still didn’t want to have the actual conversation. Seriously, was nothing sacred?

She set down the chart. He set down the pillow.

“I’m glad you’re okay, little rabbit.”

Jesper slumped just slightly. It was easy to shrug off being sick, but he knew his parents had genuinely been scared. He should have told them earlier, but that was easy to say in hindsight. But he was already enough of a disaster. Telling them meant giving them one more thing to worry about, and he had expected to hurt for a while and recover on his own.

“I love you, too. I’m fine, I promise, just… bored. Do you have my tangle? Or my zippers?”

“No, but your father’s coming to see you after work. He wanted to stay but I knew you wouldn’t like him hovering.”

“Thanks for taking care of us.”

“I’ll ask him to look for your things. Do you know where they are?”

“Um… y’know… I think I have a couple bracelets in the bathroom, and my tangle might be in the back pocket of my jeans. I’m sick,” he reminded her, playing up his ‘sick face’ to avoid hearing about how he needed to clean his room. He knew that. He didn’t mean to leave it a mess, he just kind of… forgot. The mess was organic. 

“I’ll ask him.”

She kissed his forehead and left. There wasn’t a lot of down time in hospitals. Well… there was. But it all went to patients.

After a moment, Jesper said, “So… you heard that.”

Great. His anonymous roommate had heard his ma talking about his messy room. Among more embarrassing things.

“She seems nice,” his roommate said. “My mom’s a nurse, so I’m used to… you know, being asked about symptoms.”

“Great, I can’t wait to hear about whether or not you’ve pooped.”

“I’m not here for poop-related reasons.”

Jesper laughed.

***

It was much later when his roommate’s mom visited. Jesper’s da had been in and gone. Like Aditi, Colm was glad to see his son recovering. He had a more frank, less clinical way of saying how worried he had been. He brought Jesper a hat and socks for the cold, and two zipper bracelets and his infinity cube, so the nothingness of the room stopped grating on his nerves quite so badly. The feeling was difficult to describe—it was like having this emptiness building up against him so he couldn’t find a space to exist.

Jesper would always find something to fidget with, but knowing he had dedicated fidgets at hand softened an edge.

The roommates couldn’t see each other, but they could both see the door, so Jesper saw the woman with curly red hair come into the room and head over to his roommate.

“Hey, sweetpea.”

“Hi, Mom.”

That was… not his roommate’s voice. This voice was softer, higher, and a little nervous. Jesper couldn't help having his interest piqued by the shift. Sure, Jesper changed his tone with his parents, but he still sounded like Jesper. His roommate sounded like a stranger.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. I… ———… we love you.”

Well, damn, his roommate was a girl! Jesper thought back over their conversation, searching for anything he might’ve said that he maybe shouldn’t’ve.

“I love you, too, Mom.” She sounded like it hurt to say.

“If this is about what your father said the other day, he… he needs you to be patient with him.”

“Okay.”

“He’s trying.”

Jesper was, by now, sitting very, very still. He knew this conversation wasn’t meant for him to hear, but in a small room, he couldn’t exactly not hear what was said a few feet away. So he tried to stay quiet and not make them feel self-conscious—and, if he was being completely honest, he was curious.

“Why do you excuse everything he does?”

“He’s not perfect, but he loves us. You’re still his little girl.”

“Okay.”

“———.”

“Could you just leave me alone, please?” said his roommate, in what Jesper could only describe as an amazingly rude way.

“———.”

“If you had to lose me or leave him, who would you pick?”

“That’s not fair.”

Jesper’s roommate said nothing.

“I’ll come back later. I hope you feel better then.”

Jesper settled back on the pillow and closed his eyes, doing his very best impression of sleeping. The door opened and closed, and they were alone. He stayed quiet for a moment, absently turning his infinity cube over and over in his hand. He had wanted to go back to talking with his roommate… but now he didn’t know what to say. That had been a heavy conversation to just ignore.

Then he realized his roommate was crying.

“Hey,” Jesper said. “———?”

She didn’t answer. 

“You okay?”

“That’s not my name.”

“Oh.” Jesper looked at the cube, clicking idly in his hand. He had no idea what was going on. “My name’s Jesper, but I guess you knew that since my ma visited. You want to play twenty questions? I got a good one. C’mon, you’ll never guess!” he wheedled.

After a moment, his roommate sniffled, then asked, “Person, place, or thing?”

***

“I feel wronged.”

Jesper snorted. Yeah, that was about the most accurate summary of their current situation. He still hadn’t seen his roommate, but they called to each other across the curtains. The entire situation looked brighter in the morning light. Jesper felt better. His body was rapidly putting the surgery behind him.

Even sunshine couldn’t fix the picture in front of him, though. Last night, his da had brought him food from home. No such luck today: Jesper sat up in bed, mournfully regarding the hospital’s breakfast tray.

He lifted the toast and gave it a shake. It wriggled.

“I think they steamed the toast,” he said.

His roommate laughed. “Think they toasted it first?”

Jesper set the toast aside. “You eating yours?”

“I can’t.”

“Me too. The apple looks okay.”

“Looks are deceiving things.”

Jesper bit into his apple and shuddered. He carefully removed the piece of fruit from his mouth, trying to pretend he hadn’t felt that mealy hellflesh. 

“Cereal and milk it is!” he announced. “I got Corn Flakes. You?”

“Rice Krispies.”

“This is blatant favoritism and I won’t stand for it!”

“You just had surgery, you’re not supposed to be standing at all.”

“Wow,” Jesper said, not at all appreciating that. It was true, but… wow.

He poured the mini box of corn flakes and carton of milk into his bowl. The breakfast tray was a depressing sight. There was steamed toast and an apple that was an insult to other apples. Still, at least he had juice to look forward to and the jello had been pretty good.

Halfway through his Corn Flakes, he asked, “So what are you in for, anyway? I had my appendix out.”

“I was sleepwalking—it’s dumb. I thought I was eating Skittles.”

“What were you really eating? Steamed toast?”

“Aspirin.”

“Oh, shit.”

“I was sleepwalking.”

“Yeah, totally,” Jesper said, trying to sound like he believed it. 

A while later, once the salvagable parts of breakfast had been endured, Jesper’s roommate appeared around the curtain, leaning on an IV stand. She was small, the sort of girl who looked like she would never be more than 5'. She had freckles and a curly red-gold ponytail, and if Jesper was being completely honest, she was cute.

“Want to play cards?” she asked.

“Um—I…”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s cool.”

“I have a gambling problem,” Jesper blurted out. “I can’t… it’s really… I have a problem. But if we keep it chill?”

“Sure. How about Go Fish? No one gambles over Go Fish.”

Gamblers would gamble over anything, but she sounded so sweet and optimistic, he didn’t want to ruin her bright outlook.

“Sounds good.”

She sat on the end of his bed and dealt. 

They made it a few rounds without chatting much, then she said, “I’ll tell you my name, but you can’t tell anybody.”

Jesper wanted to ask why she was trusting him, but instead said, “I won’t.”

She leaned nearer and whispered it. Jesper had suspected something like this. He appreciated having it confirmed. Now that he knew, he rearranged his thoughts about his roommate to use the correct pronouns.

“Wylan’s a cool name.”

Jesper’s roommate smiled at his cards, a smile that was determinedly interrupted with a scowl.

“Not as cool as Jesper,” he continued, “but still pretty cool. You want to play again?”

By that afternoon, they had both seen their mothers again. Wylan’s mom seemed to really love him, Jesper thought, even if she did use his deadname. The visit still left Wylan withdrawn, but Jesper talked his new friend into another round of Go Fish. It wasn’t such a fun game. It was about the company, though said company remained gloomy. He had a scowl like thunder.

“Here, I have an idea.” Jesper pulled off his beanie. “Do you want to…?”

Wylan took the hat, pulled it on, and tucked his hair up under it.

“I hate feeling it,” he said. “That’s probably stupid, but I hate it! It’s stupid. You have long hair and you don’t look like a girl!”

“You don’t look like a girl, either. And you don’t sound like a girl, I thought you were a guy until I heard your mom say your name. Which now I know isn’t your name,” Jesper added. 

The stormclouds began to disperse. 

“When I was a kid, I used to imitate cartoons.”

“Oh yeah? Can you still do it?”

Jesper didn’t have to hear the answer—which was just as well, because Wylan didn’t give him one.

“Do one for me! C’mon, just one.”

Wylan shifted, keeping his eyes on their forgotten game of Go Fish. Then he said, “Meep meep!”

“Pfft, Road Runner doesn’t count.”

“Road Runner’s a cartoon!” “You said one word and it was onomatopoeia!”

“Okay, yeah, but… okay. Okay.” Wylan took a deep breath, settled his shoulders, and stared at the sheets with a deepening blush as he said, “Duck season! Wabbit season! Duck season! Wabbit season! Wabbit season! I say it’s duck season, and I say, fire!”

Jesper laughed. “That’s really good!” he said. He wasn’t laughing at Wylan, but because the impression was so good, almost like different people when Bugs and Daffy spoke. Besides, the cartoon was a classic. Wylan must’ve known, because he smiled.

[firesfelt]

afternoon, all ! finally getting my last ( for now... i already have Temptations ) intro up, and hopefully without a rushed ending because i suddenly have to do something lmao. while i’m not Wild about my intro graphics in general ( why does this one lowkey look stretched, for a start... ) but the fact that that ‘o’ is perfectly circling amanda’s eye ? an absolutely accident but *chef’s kiss* nonetheless. i’m writing this up while saving rp icons, so let’s see if i can multitask !!

( amanda seyfried, 30, cis woman, she/her ) AISLING O’CONNOR was seen listening to HAPPY BY LEONA LEWIS on their way to DIETICIAN. AISLING is known to be OPEN-MINDED & UNFORIGVING.

➜ so first thing’s first, aisling is pronounced ‘ash-ling’ ( or ash-lin depending on your accent/whether you drop your ‘g’s or not ) and although it would make my life so much easier when it comes to typing if she did, she really doesn’t take well to anybody calling her ‘ash’ ( i’m up for the challenge though ! give me someone in her life who can finally get away with shortening her name !! she doesn’t tolerate nicknames at all but can we change her ? let’s see ! )

➜ and with a name like aisling o’connor, i’m sure y’all really don’t need three guesses as to where she’s from. she was born in belfast, and is the oldest of six sisters -- all of them blonde, and all of them beautiful ( would it be obnoxious to submit wc’s for all of them ? possibly... will i do it anyway ? perhaps... ) she comes from a very family orientated family, so when her parents wanted to move the family out of ireland due to the conflict at the time, it wasn’t surprising that aisling’s aunt, uncle, and cousins came too, as well as her darling nanna. 

➜ aisling landed in huntsville at the age of six, but you best believe her accent is still just as prominent now as it was while running around belfast. as the oldest sister, she took on a lot of responsibility within the household, helping to raise the little ones with a roll of her eyes a each request, but also while being easily ignored. her parents were in no way neglectful, but with five smaller children to look after, their focus simply wasn’t on aisling.

➜ this meant that aisling fell through the cracks a little, and issues that began to surface as a teenager went unnoticed. while she never actually had a problem with her weight, teenagers can be wildly cruel and the societal pressures of looking a certain way can lead to young minds being warped, so aisling was very aware that she looked different to her peers. she was more... thicc/curvy/buxom, as a way to put it. 

➜ attention might not have been drawn to her body as much if her interests were different. aisling spent her childhood and teenage years in dance classes, drama workshops, and singing lessons, all with the goal of training in musical theatre and going on to become an actress. there was a certain body type that surrounded her, and it wasn’t one she possessed, herself. 

➜ it never became a problem, though, until she did go to college for musical theatre. her parents wanted all six of their girls to go to university, and they promised they’d pay what they could towards it as long as they went. they’d support any course, any major, just please go to university. however, aisling dropped out after two years. teachers, professors, agents, casting teams, they all  had something to say, something to critique, something to jab at, and it lead to aisling’s self-image crumbling to the point of severe unhappiness, and developing an unhealthy relationship with food. constantly being told to drop ten pounds, as one can imagine, had a pretty gnarly effect on her. 

➜ while she knew it would be possible to make it anyway, to prove the industry wrong, to make change, to represent different body types so young girls in the future don’t have to doubt themselves like she did, aisling decided her own mental health was both too fragile to do that, and more valuable than doing that. 

➜ i feel like i’m going on about this a bit too much lmao, so i’m gonna wrap it up a bit: she was able to recover from the disorded eating that formed as a result, and discovered a newfound passion about nutrition, and was able to care about it without obsessing. she really wanted to form new habits around food and body image, and realised that her perspective and beliefs actually went way back to childhood, and it then extended into wanting to help other people. eventually, aisling went back to school and studied to become a dietician, which she now is. she has a special interest in helping young woman recover from disorded eating patterns and develop a healthy relationship with food and their body, and stomping all over diet culture, but she sees all kinds of clients in general. 

➜ so life has obviously taken a very different turn for her, but she’s really kind of,,, okay with that at this point ? it is what it is, and that pathway really didn’t suit her. she didn’t have the skin for the industry --- or maybe the industry shouldn’t require her to have such thick skin, but it’s in the past now.

➜ also, p.s, i really don’t want it to come off like i think that there’s no place for women in theatre that don’t have sutton foster’s body, y’know ? that ain’t it !!!! it’s more,,, the absolutely ridiculousness of the pressure actresses have to look a certain way, esp. in theatre where if you’re not really slim, but you’re not big enough for roles like madame thernadier/tracy turnblad/nadia mcconell/martha dunstock/etc, there’s no place for you ? or people act like there’s no place. also don’t want it to come off bad in that,,, obviously at the end of the day, aisling is a thin woman that’s a bit,,, curvy ? like oh poor thin white woman ? that ain’t it, that isn’t what i’m trying to do jshsbss. d’you get me ? tryin to comment on how the industry can be a bit Shit, without making it out like little white cis women are the ones discriminated against. hopefully y’all get me sjhnbssbs

➜ also, when i was Creating aisling, i was originally going to make her older, and was gonna use keri russell, which is a Fun Time. i absolutely love keri though so don’t be surprise if i pop up with a keri fc later on down the line, lmao. 

➜ in terms of personality, i feel like the two traits i picked for her app are a little, like, contradictory in a way ? but i love characters with conflicting personality traits. she’s very open-minded, easy to talk to, very accepting, etc ( she’s kinda like a therapist in that when you talk to her, she’ll just kind of nod and not show any kind of,, Reaction either way, she’s just Observing until it’s her turn to speak. she’s just taking everything in and Receiving without judgement for the most part ) but when she’s personally hurt, in a way that directly impacts her ( usually related to her family, tbh ) there is,,, no forgiving. she’ll hear you out, and maybe be able to move on from it, but forgiveness for the big, big things is r a r e. 

➜ like how gwen is always sort of,, Faking happiness, i feel like aisling is always sort of chasing happiness ? she always wants to do what’s best for herself, and loves and respects herself deeply, so she’s always making the choices that are more likely to lead to long-term happiness, even if it bloody well hurts in the meantime ---- like giving up acting. 

➜ i feel like while emika is just a loner in general who can’t handle more than fwb situations and one night stands, and gwen doesn’t have the time to form proper relationships with people due to her shift work, aisling is just really, really unlucky in love. like, for whatever reason, things just don’t work out, or turn sour, or just... fall apart. there’s a long line of exes and flings, people she took home to her parents and people she thought it best not to, all of which ending in tears. 

➜ at least she has her bunny rabbits, though. they’ll never let her down. their names are sondheim & shwartz, and they are her pride and joy. 

➜ her family play a massive role in her life, and she doesn’t know any differently and wouldn’t want to. her nanna is, as you can imagine, really quite old at this point, and deteriorating health-wise, but the whole family band together to keep her well and try and keep her mind active.

➜ in terms of connections and plotting, again, i’m really open. i’m willing to give absolutely anything a go and try and work stuff out. i’m also always open to hearing ideas for plots people really want and seeing if any of my characters fit. but for loose ideas for now: failed relationships & exes ( there’s lots of room there ), clients ( definitely don’t have to have issues with food necessarily ! she also sees people for things like dietary restrictions due to allergy or recently diagnosed illness like diabetes or pcos or w/e, pregnancy, folks who just want to create a meal plan that makes their body feel its best, picky eating in kids, etc ! ) people she went to school with, other theatre-y folks to bond with, honestly absolutely anything. 

[thegreatsharkleve]

Elijah Post LFRP - Crystal data center

The Basics ––– –

Name: Elijah Post

Age: 28

Race: Midlander/Highlander

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Gay (but flirts with pretty much everyone)

Relationship Status: Sort of involved? (He will neither confirm nor deny there being a presence of embarrassingly soft feelings...)

Languages: Common, a rudimentary grasp of Doman

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Physical Appearance ––– –

Hair: Honey Blond and could definitely use a cut or a style… or a brush most days, to be perfectly honest.

Eyes: Amber – more a reddish-orange hue than yellow

Height: 5’6”

Appearance: He is an attractive enough guy: excellent jaw line, straight nose, striking eyes, long limbs, trim figure, and a charming smile. Unfortunately (for anyone who has to look at him) his fashion sense is … questionable at best. Most of his outfits consist of brightly colored, egregiously wrinkled shirts and pants that rarely make it past his ankles. He wears a lot of tacky jewelry, sunglasses inside buildings and most certainly at night, and there is a very real possibility that the only footwear he owns, besides a pair of fluffy pink slippers, are sandals – which he has, in fact, been known to wear with socks. Still, he carries himself with a lazy confidence that somehow makes his perpetual “I have just woke up in the middle of the afternoon” look seem more of an artful affectation rather than a cry for help.

One of the more notable things about him are his plethora of scars, with the most prominent being the one that runs diagonal across his face and the two sets of whorling burns along both shoulders – one creeping down over his right pectoral and the other running over the upper part of his left arm. His ring finger on his left hand is missing after the first knuckle (don’t ask about this one if you’re eating), and a long surgical scar runs vertically along his outer right forearm. Underneath his clothes are a smattering of healed bullet wounds and a few others of less identifiable origin, but you’re gonna have to buy him a couple drinks if you want to take a closer look.

Personal ––– –

Profession: Journalist – specifically a freelance field correspondent who specializes in conflict journalism and investigative reporting. When he’s between field work, he often picks up puff pieces with local papers, writing about the arts, sports, culture, etc.

Residence: No permanent listed address – currently renting a room at the Hidden Pearl in the Mists. He can usually be found sitting at the bar after he’s just rolled out of bed, having bacon twists and sake for breakfast (at 2pm).

Birthplace: Ul’Dah

Religion: Meh

Likes: Day drinking, people watching, writing, sleeping, animals, (tall men)

Dislikes: Bureaucracy, wealth disparity, national pride, bullies, snobs, being cold

Fears: Commitment, being emotionally vulnerable, people in mascot costumes

Personality: Elijah seems like a pretty easy going, even tempered guy for the most part. He has a languorous, lackadaisical disposition – meandering through life as though he never really has a place to be, and if he did, he isn’t in any particular rush to get there. With friends or with strangers he’s quick to smile or laugh or tell a joke, affable enough that people tend to trust him with pieces of themselves without noticing he offers very little of himself in return. He can come across as flippant or indifferent in conversation, and while he is rarely intentionally cruel, he has a habit of jamming his thumbs into people’s buttons. It’s very possible he is just incidentally annoying rather than consciously so. He likes to maintain plausible deniability on that front.

When working in the field Elijah becomes much more focused – he stands taller, moves with purpose, exchanging his usual countenance of a rumpled layabout for that of a seasoned professional. He has on more than one occasion put his own body on the line (and in the hospital) in combat situations, or when pursuing a lead. He will recount each scar, and his half missing finger, with a joviality that some folks find off putting given some of the more grisly details. This disregard for his own safety is likely one of the (many) reasons he has never gotten a full time reporting gig with any of Eorza’s major newspapers – that, and he has a habit of leaving journalistic impartiality at the door. It’s clear from his writing that he has a deep well of empathy for other people and admires underdogs who fight uphill battles for high minded idealism, even if he ultimately believes their sentimentality to be a little bit naive..

Relationships ––– -

Parents: His Mother has passed, but his Father is still kicking and perpetually disappointed in his son! Their relationship is… strained by not estranged?

Pets: His Chocobo Bixley – but really, that’s more of a buddy and stalwart feathered compatriot than a pet.

traits ––– -

bold your character’s answer.

extroverted / in between / introverted

disorganized / in between / organized

close minded / in between / open minded

calm / in between / anxious

disagreeable / in between / agreeable

cautious / in between / reckless

patient / in between /  impatient

outspoken / in between / reserved

leader / in between / follower

empathetic / in between / apathetic

optimistic / in between / pessimistic

traditional / in between / modern

hard-working / in between / lazy

cultured / in between / uncultured

loyal / in between / disloyal

Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit: Has been known to chain smoke.

Drugs: The spice of life is trying anything and everything twice!

Alcohol: Probably too often on that front too..

Background information/ Potential RP Hooks? ––– – 

UL’DAH BORN AND RAISED: He lived most of his youth in Ul’Dah, haunting the less affluent areas of Eorzea’s grandest pile of rocks in the desert. His mother was an Ala Mhigan immigrant and his father just a simple Ul’Dah native who ran a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. His parents were very “hard work and sacrifice” types when he was growing up, giving away free meals to refugees and anyone who was hungry. They were well liked by those who knew them, veritable pillars of the community, for whatever that was worth in what was hardly a half step above a slum. His mother died a few years ago but his father still works in his run down little restaurant – lots of folks still recognize Elijah as his parent’s kid rather than for his own work. He has mixed feelings about it.

FREELANCE JOURNALIST WITH AN AXE TO GRIND: Elijah’s had work published in The Mythril Eye, The Harbor Herald, and The Raven. Because he has a reasonably good standing at these newspapers (and friendly relationships with some of the editors) he’s able to pick up the odd puff piece, op-ed, or political coverage gig in order to cover his expenses when he’s between larger assignments. In the past he has written some pretty incendiary pieces about Ul’Dah’s treatment of Ala Mhigan refugees, as well as a few pieces lambasting the noble houses of Ishgard and their complacency in the Dragonsong War and their collaboration with the corrupt Holy See, which has earned him a bit of a “reputation”. On the other hand, he is just as willing to throw himself upon the altar of journalistic tripe for a quick gil. If you have any tips or story leads you want investigated, Elijah just might be your man. If your character is involved at any of the major Eorzean papers, they might be acquainted.

CONFLICT REPORTING: Elijah has spent time in the middle of political unrest in Ishgard, covering Garlean incursions and skirmishes across the continent, and until recently he has been covering the ongoing issues in Othard. In fact, he’s only just returned from spending an extended period living with the resistance forces in Gyr Abania; and, he has some very strong opinions regarding the absolutely hacking edits The Mythril Eye made to his work before publication (without his permission). If your character was part of the fighting in Gyr Abania, Elijah might have spoken to them or went out into the field with them on occasion.

TRAVELING FOR WORK: Given the nature of his job, Elijah has visited most major cities while on assignment and has been known to interview common folks, political figures, travelers, military types -- anyone who will talk to him. If you've spoken to him in the past, your words might have ended up in print, for better or for worse (he has been punched in the face on more than one occasion, and he regrets nothing); however, he has never once burned an informant or lead that has come to him for help. He has enough of a reputation that folks (government and law enforcement sorts) might take to actively avoiding him.

OOC/Contact Information  ––– –

The Player: Becks | They/Them | 30+ | Atlantic Timezone | Canadian

Looking for: Long term rp connections, short term adventures, friendship, rivalry, romance, I’m open to pretty much anything!

I’m a 30+ year old player who is a little anxious and shy when it comes to meeting new people on the internet (hence playing an extrovert to drag me out of my shell) but I’m really excited to make new friends and rp connections!! As I said, I am up for anything, including walk ups when I am out and about, and this character is on the surface level a very chill and friendly dude! I am, however, also someone who engages with a lot of mature themes -- not just swearing, drugs and alcohol, but also heavier themes (the realities of class disparity and poverty, the human cost of war, trauma, etc etc)  that might not be everyone’s cup of tea. But!! I wouldn’t just throw it out there willy nilly, and I believe firmly in communication between players -- discussing boundaries and limits is very important, as well as trusting each other enough to speak up if either party is uncomfortable!   I am cool with my character being injured, but please check in with me before doing anything drastic that will result in something permanent (like maiming or... y’know, death). Also I am open to rping romance (or lack of romance but the bits that go with it) though this character is currently not up for shipping adventures. Just to be clear, I am not comfortable doing that type of role play with anyone that’s under 25, sorry! I'm in my early thirties, and it would just be weird for me. We can still be pals, I promise! Please only reach out to me if you are 18+ and your character is 18+ -- I am not comfortable interacting with minors.

All art on this tumblr is probably mine unless stated otherwise! <3 Contact: Message me here on tumblr, /tell Elijah Post on Balmung, and if we become friends I am up for discord handle sharing! :D

I am open to cross-world rp and rp outside of the game as well!!

Now that I’ve got this edited how I want it... Boosts appreciated! Always looking for more active blogs to follow/be friends with!! 

[caspiens]

[  XAVIER SERRANO  ,  HE/HIM  ,  TWENTY-THREE  ,  CIS MALE  ]  do  my  eyes  deceive  me  ,  or  did  i  just  see  ( CASPIAN DE LUNA )  getting  out  of  the  car  in  hunnington  ?  i  guess  (  HE’S )  living  around (  ROCK SPRINGS  )  ,  which  i  could've  guessed  .  hopefully  they  can  keep  their  (  -  REBELLIOUS  & -  DECADENT  )  shit  to  theirselves  ,  and  focus  on  being  ( +  GREGARIOUS  &  +  CHARMING )  to  avoid  any  problems  .  and  for  the  love  of  god  ,  lets  hope  they  don't  talk  about  the  ( HIDDEN )  thing  .

hello all!! i’m hails and i reside in that lovely, delicious, gmt. this right here is caspian, one of my oldest muses but he’s also my trashcan son so!!!  i’ve revamped a few things, swapped ‘em around, so pls bear with me while i get a grasp on him! leave a like and i’ll come slide into your dms for plots or you can hmu ! ❤

background 

it’s a tale as old as time. congressman attends a local ballet production of the nutcracker and is instantly drawn to the prima ballerina. bouquets of flowers and backstage rendezvous soon follow until... an unexpected byproduct of their affair soon followed. what should have been a joyful pregnancy was soon tarnished in scandal. as caspian’s father made local headlines for cheating on his wife of seventeen years with a much younger woman, and by the time of caspian’s birth he was already somehow caught in the middle of a messy divorce and a shotgun remarriage. oh. and his father’s forced removal from office. the joy. 

regardless of the scandal of his birth, he was a pampered child. dragged along to ballet rehearsals in the wake of his mother not wanting to hire a nanny and subsequently loving the doting of the dancers who would coo over him. an attention heaux, it was only natural that he soon followed in his mother’s footsteps and started dancing

but then as he entered his teen years, his parents' marriage became incredibly strained. partly due to them starting to feel the strain of their age difference, partly due to the unwarranted press attention that still seemed to follow the couple. and after a few years of non-stop arguing and being the pawn in the middle, the pair finally divorced when he was fourteen with his mother moving to new york to teach dance instead.

an attention heaux ( i cannot stress this enough !! ) with a lack of parental guidance, caspian started looking for the attention that he wasn’t receiving at home through other channels. partying, drinking, spending way too much time in the dressing rooms of some of the other dancers. probably got arrested and dropped home after being caught trespassing y’know. just lad things x. 

honestly, it’s a bit of a miracle he graduated high school at all, let alone went on to university as he... was never around enough to take school seriously fsdfsfd. but he’s good at what he does and he managed to land a scholarship to a dance conservatory straight out of high school. 

so that brings us to now!! he’s returned home to nc, back residing in rock springs and dancing for the local company. he’s recently become a demi-soloist so he has a more focal role in some productions with his dance partner! ( a definite wc but we’ll get onto that! ) 

personality 

asshole with a heart of gold™ just as likely to have punched someone on a night out as he is to have.... invited you to the club in the first place just to cheer you up

a loyal bitch! befriend him and you pretty much have a friend for life

would flirt with his own reflection if it was socially acceptable. flirting may as well be a past time of his at this point tbh

coffee with a shot of whiskey in it personified

the only thing he’s committed to is the pursuit of dance and the thought of commitment in a relationship? terrifying ! 

doesn’t really have the capacity to think something is a bad idea. there’s only fun and things that could potentially lead to fun 

a bit of a loose cannon and honestly? the fact he was given a position of Responsibility within the ballet company has probably shaken quite a few of his fellow dancers lmao

tidbits 

the only family member he’s close to these days is his grandma 

really likes classic cars and probably uses most of his paychecks just to fund potentially buying one at some point

wine and cheese nights but make them a frequent occurrence and add tequila 

wanted connections

you can click the link above to see a couple hurried together ideas i had but i’m p. much open to anything and everything, so i’m super excited to plot w all of you !