#in my heart of hearts they’ve always been aromantic. even though they certainly weren’t in my old art of them sigh and also cringe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

Text

Orientation Talk

Alastor realizes he and Telly @usedhearts have, in fact, never discussed with each other how they see their sexualities. Which seems like a rather important thing to know about the person you're dating.

From there they segue into talking about their experiences with antemortem queer communities and drag.

Alastor

The door slams open. “SEXUALITY!” Apparently this is how Alastor is saying “hello” today. “That’s the word of the decade, isn’t it! Everyone wants to know what everyone else’s sexuality is! There’s thirty new labels and all of them are color-coded!” A wave of his hands and a bunch of magical miniature pride flags flutter around like confetti and then disappear. “And for all that, I’ve made the ghastly error of just—taking for granted that I already know yours! So!” He looks around. He got through that monologue confident that Telly is, in fact, in the room, without actually checking.

THERE he is. “So!!” Alastor crosses the room to plop a hand on Telly’s shoulder. “You... what do you consider yourself? Anything in particular? You ARE inclined toward both ladies and gentlemen, aren’t you?”

Sir Pentious

At the slamming door and the sudden shout, Telly's hood flares and he lets out a mighty hiss!! Look at him, how scary!!!

Oh, it was just Alastor. Alastor asking about his.... sexuality? Well, alright, that was new.

"Yes, of course. I thought that would be plain to see? I think the modern term is 'bisexual'? Yes." His head tilted. "Why the sudden interest, darling?"

Alastor

“Well, I thought you were!” A shrug! “But your alternate thought you’re only inclined toward men, so...!” ANOTHER SHRUG. “I thought I ought to check.”

Sir Pentious

There was a slight, momentary BWUAGH at that revelation-- Penny had thought he was only into men? How? But he shook away the thought to focus back on the conversation.

"For a while I thought I might, honestly-- be just into men, that is. But well...." He smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "Ladies...."

Alastor

Alastor nodded slowly in comprehension.

Then shook his head slowly. No. The nod was a lie. He didn’t comprehend. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Sir Pentious

"I always liked ladies, but the only one I truly fancied before I died was Olivia. But well we....you know. And then I fell for George." A shrug. "So until I died, I didn't really think of it. And then after, it wasn't really important for a good, oh, decade or so."

Another shrug. "What about you?"

Alastor

He nodded again, taking mental notes. So that was attraction without the full-blown romantic feelings? Outside of Hollywood, attraction was such a mysterious, malleable thing—

—oh, but now Telly wanted to know about *Alastor’s* mysterious malleable thing. At least Alastor’s was a lot smaller. “Well, that depends! Would you extrapolate an orientation from a sample size of one?”

Sir Pentious

Telly tilts his head, thinking about it. "Not really? If there's only one, than that's an outlier and shouldn't be counted."

Alastor

"That's generally what I think about it! And going by that, my preferences are for none of the above, thanks, I'm just fine—which these days I'm told is called 'aromantic and asexual'—you need both those terms, apparently—which, sure, fine, they get the job done. But you *do* have to throw out that outlier."

Sir Pentious

Telly thought a moment. "Am....I the outlier? Or, rather, Sir Pentiouses?"

His head tilted, his claw tapping at his chin. "Hmmm..."

Alastor

"Yes, sir, you are." A crooked smile. "So, count the outlier, and I'm stone cold gay. All the people I've ever been attracted to have been men, all one of 'em. So, it depends on the qualifying criteria for all the different terms—and that's out of my hands. The terms belong to other people, not me."

Sir Pentious

"Well, the terms are there for you to slap on yourself and say 'this is me'. But if you don't wish to slap any on, then, who can _make_ you? No one!" Telly smirked, leaning closer to kiss the tip of his nose.

"It'sss none of anyone elssse'ss business anyway! You don't want anything with anyone but me, that's fine by me." He snickered.

Alastor

Alastor shakes his head. “No, no—the terms don’t exist for slapping on yourself, they exist for showing off to other people. That’s the *only* reason they exist. It’s like a soldier wearing a uniform—you don’t wear one because you like it, you wear one to ensure your side doesn’t shoot at you and that you get let into the mess hall for food. The terms tell other people which groups you belong to. It’s the business of the groups to decide which criteria qualify individuals for membership, and the business of the individuals to learn the criteria and whether or not they qualify. So that’s the question, see. Not ‘am I gay’ but ‘would the gays consider me gay.’” He slings an arm around Telly’s neck—not for any particular reason, he just feels like hanging off of Telly. “Personally, I don’t much care, but! You asked about me, and those are the closest labels I can get without knowing how the population at large handles outlier cases.” He shrugs.

Sir Pentious

"Perhaps more research is required. I'm _sure_ you're not the ONLY person to ever exist who's been like this when it came to romance and sex." He flicked his tongue against Alastor's cheek. Get licked.

"I find the term bisexual works for me. And I say that whatever you are, I like it. The terms change so much, who's to say if we will not have new ones in a few decades anyway!"

Alastor

“What, a man who fell for one man but nobody else? Oh, I’m sure there’s been more! There’s certainly enough pulp novels about them. Although they’re usually about repressed men having their gay awakening. I don’t think that applies to me—I considered that I might be inclined toward men long before I considered that I might be inclined toward no one.”

He gets licked. That shouldn’t make his heart flutter, *and yet.* Just ignore how goofy his smile looks for a couple seconds, he’s TRYING to focus here. “Oh, I’m sure we will! They’ve got to reshuffle all the categories every couple decades or so, haven’t they? In my time I would have gone by ‘confirmed bachelor.’ Told people exactly what to expect from you without telling them a thing about what you got up to. Category X was my favorite descriptor, though—it sounds like something out of a science fiction horror picture show.”

He leans more heavily on Telly while he gestures with his free hand, like he’s indicating the words on a movie poster: “‘The Mystery of Category X!’ ‘The X Category from Outer Space!’ ‘You can run, but you can’t hide, from... Category X!’” He laughs, then glances up at Telly. “I suppose you haven’t always gone by ‘bisexual’ either?”

Sir Pentious

"I like that one, too. Category X has pizzazz!" He let out a hissing laugh, squishing his cheek into Alastor's.

"Oh, certainly not, I don't think they had a term for it in my day! I started hearing it sometime in the 1900s, I'm not sure when exactly." Telly shrugged briefly.

"I never really encountered anyone else who was like me, at least not one that I wasn't ensconced with at the time! I never had that sort of 'community', I suppose."

Alastor

“Really? No one?” Had Telly died thinking he and George were the only men in the world who wanted to sleep with other men? No, that couldn’t be possible—he was an upper-class gent, surely he’d at least read Greek poetry and such? Homer? “Never crossed paths with Oscar Wilde’s crowd?”

Sir Pentious

A slight BWUAGH at the mention of Wilde and Telly blinked rapidly. "Wilde? No? He was an artist, I was an engineer. We hardly ran in the same circles. I was also a recluse and generally only socialized, when forced, with people that my mother approved of, and she certainly did NOT approve of him."

He snorted and shook his head. "Probably thought he would've queered me up even more, if we had crossed paths."

Alastor

“Hah! I suppose that makes sense. Inventors and and entertainers aren’t frequent bedfellows, are they?” A wink; yes, he realizes the irony. “I suppose I’m the lucky one—I fell in with the *theater crowd.* From 1922 on, the only straight people I knew were my mother and my coworkers, and I’m not sure about my coworkers!” He laughs. “No, that’s an exaggeration. Not by much.”

Sir Pentious

"Ah yes, _actors_ the bane of my parents' existence! How they loved to talk about how _actors_ 'corrupted the youth' and all that hogwash! Looking back, it's funny to think about." He laughed again, leaning against Alastor.

"But tell me more about it, I'm dreadfully curious."

Alastor

“And they were *right!* Why, I hung out with actors in my youth, and look where I am now!” He gestured around himself. At Telly’s room. “... I meant ‘in Hell,’ but our present surroundings don’t quite convey that, do they.” He laughed.

“What, the theater crowd? Or the queer crowd? Granted, there’s a lot of overlap...”

Sir Pentious

"And yes, I, who never did, am also here! Though perhaps that is more because of the whole murder and blowing up half of London thing." He laughed more.

"Oh both! Or either! I don't know much about either one, both sound fascinating."

Alastor

“Well, if you weren’t hanging out with *actors,* I guess all that murder is the only explanation left, isn’t it?”

Oh, if only they had the time to sit together while Alastor told Telly every single detail of both his theater career and the queer scenes he’d been involved in—and then the rest of his life—and then get Telly to share every detail of *his* life. But for now, he’d have to narrow it down.

“When I first got involved in New York City, the scene was a little bit of both—theater *and* queer! The crowd I fell in with was very performance-oriented. You know, drag balls, that sort of thing. They started drawing in tourists, even! Straight folks would pay money to come to the balls and be entertained by the men in dresses—that was how we were referred to then, ‘female impersonators’ they were called. If I ran into the souls I knew back then today, I think some would still consider themselves that, but others by now might consider themselves transsexual women who decided to make a show out of their transformations—but those weren’t different categories yet. All of us wore trousers at our day jobs and wore skirts at parties, and that made us the same as each other, even if our private reasons for putting on a skirt were different.”

He’d let go of Telly and started pacing around as he spoke, gesturing, playing snips of party music, briefly summoning up shades wearing the silhouettes of elaborate gowns, dancing with them for a measure or two. “It was such a big tourist draw that if you showed up with a skirt and an Adam’s apple, you could get into a ball at a discount! It was a *thrilling* party scene, but... well, it was a party scene.” The energy of the music and shadows started dying, like a wound-up music box slowing down. “It got exhausting. New York wore me out. Or I wore myself out in New York—one or the other.”

Sir Pentious

Telly watched the show-- and what a show it was! Alastor was always the entertainer, even now, with an audience of one. He settled onto his coils, eyes following Alastor's every gesture, smiling when he twirled with shades.

"Yes, it _does_ sound like that would get exhausting after a while! I could hardly stand the stuffy balls that I went to in my day, I can't even imagine what ones intended for FUN must've been like, especially doing it all the time." He set his chin on his hands, now resting on his tail.

"What about New Orleans? What was it like there? More parties?"

Alastor

“No! Well, *some*—it *was* the twenties—but it wasn’t like New York’s scene. All the masculine women and feminine men sort of clustered together in the *Vieux Carré*—now *there* was where the *artists* hung out—and you’d have your speakeasies and your rowdy nights, but it wasn’t a *spectacle.* New Orleans was very laid back, always had been.” And just talking about it, Alastor looked more laid back himself—less frantically energetic and more comfortable. Like he’d actually *come* home instead of just talking about it. He even stopped waltzing around and plopped down on Telly’s coils.

“They were very French about the whole thing, which primarily meant ‘mind your own business.’” He laughed, conjuring up a shadow pantomime of a couple of gossips whispering to each other. “Try to tell one neighbor about spotting another with his tongue down a man’s throat, and the neighbor’s more likely to be offended that you’re spreading this around than they are to be offended at what the other neighbor’s been up to.” One of the gossips silently scolded the other for bringing up the subject, and then the shadows dissolved. “It wasn’t wholehearted *love,* by any means—but you get a little extra privacy when nobody wants to know about everyone else’s affairs. That’s what New Orleans was like.”

Sir Pentious

Telly hummed, nodding along. "Yes, that sounds better to me too. I like the New Orleans way, but then again, I always did like the French!"

He laughed a little. "That's not very English of me, is it? I should hate the French! But here I am, with a French lover-- or at least, French adjacent. How scandalous!" Another, louder laugh, as he wrapped his arms around Alastor's waist.

Alastor

“A *French lover!* Me!” He laughed loudly. “Well, aren’t we a pair fit for a saucy short story! You could be the unworldly English student studying abroad in Paris, and I’d be the pretty French girl who keeps throwing you come-hither looks. You’d fall for my mysterious sexual allure and I’d fall for your... you know, none of those short stories ever explain what it is the French girls see in the English students. Probably because they tend to be written by British men.”

He tapped Telly’s chest, “Did they have those stories when you were alive? There’s this *one* author I read who only wrote two things: bone-chilling horror, and artists falling in love with nubile young French girls. I couldn’t *stand* when he wrote about French girls.”

Sir Pentious

Telly couldn't help laughing at that. "Oh, sounds like every young man I knew who went to spend a year abroad. They _all_ wanted a French mistress, or an Italian one, though those seemed to be harder to come by."

His head tilted as he thought. "It's not ringing a bell, but I'm sure if I saw his name I would recognize him. I've always been a fan of horror." He flicked out his tongue. "But back on topic! You joined in with the balls and such in New York, but what about in New Orleans?"

Alastor

Alastor dragged his head back from trying to remember the name of a war story by the same author and an entirely unrelated book about a *male* French lover—to be continued later, maybe—and back to the question at hand. New Orleans balls?

“Oh, New Orleans didn’t have balls, not like New York. Not that I got invited to, anyway. There were *professional* ‘female impersonators’—they were on stages all across the country in the twenties—but that was show business. In the *Vieux Carré* bars, anyone dressed unusually was doing it for themselves rather than for an audience.”

Sir Pentious

"Did you ever join in there?" His head tilted, and he flicked his tongue at Alastor. A fully captivated snake, that's what he had on his hands right now.

Alastor

“In *New Orleans?* Goodness, no! Far too close to home! It was Prohibition! What if the Mabel men came knocking? If my mother had to see me locked up in a cell, I wanted to give her as few questions to ask me as possible!” He laughed. “Anyway, the New York scene burned me out for the next couple of decades. Once I left the North, I didn’t pick it up again until I’d been dead a while.”

Sir Pentious

"What, the 'female impersonation'? Or just generally being more openly a part of queer spaces?" Cue a head tilt, but this time in the OTHER direction. Such versatility.

Alastor

“Female impersonation—although I don’t like to call it that when I do it. I’m not trying to impersonate a female, I’m... well, whatever I’m doing.” A vague shrug. Thoughts. “I prefer ‘drag.’ It... implies less about one’s motivations, I suppose.”

Sir Pentious

When Alastor said that, something finally clicked in Telly's mind and he sat up suddenly, letting out a loud "Oh!"

"SO _THAT'S_ WHAT DRAG IS! I'D BEEN MEANING TO ASK YOU AT THE BALL BUT WE GOT, WELL, DISTRACTED!" He laughed.

Alastor

“Y... you didn’t know—?” Alastor blinked at him, then wheezed in laughter. “Telly, *mon roi,* YOU were in drag!”

Sir Pentious

Telly rolled his eyes (all of them) and crossed his arms, giving a huff. "YES, I KNOW THAT _NOW_. BUT AT THE TIME, I HADN'T HEARD THE TERM BEFORE! OR I HAD AND JUST NEVER CONNECTED IT TO THE WHOLE SUBCULTURE OR SOME SUCH THING!"

A couple more huffs. Huff huff. And then he settled. And he pouted.

Alastor

Oh no, not the pouting. Alastor tried *very hard* to stop laughing. “Well—“ a giggle escaped, “—you know now.”

Sir Pentious

He huffed again but then relaxed a little more, reaching to take Alastor's hand and play with his fingers.

"Well, you've seen ME in drag, when do I get to see _you_ in it, hm?"

Alastor

“Oh?” THAT got Alastor to stop laughing, although it didn’t do a thing to banish the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “In ten minutes, if you want.”

Sir Pentious

Telly's tongue stuck out and he blinked, before grinning. "Really? Just ten minutes? Doesn't it usually take a long time to get into drag? I mean, it took me _hours_ to get fully ready, and that was before the paint!"

He chuckled.

Alastor

“It depends on how you do it. I’m a bit more minimalist in my approach.” He was going to take that as a request to see. He winked, slid off of Telly’s coils, and ducked into the false bathroom to change. He slipped of his shoes and used them to wedge the door a couple inches open so they could keep talking. “It’s why I can’t get into the whole drag *scene.* It gets so competitive! Even more than it was in the twenties! Some crowds are laid back about it, but other crowds treat you like you’re going to get scored 1 to 10 on how feminine you are and your objective should be to hit a 12—and then other crowds still actually *will* score you. And oh, it’s a fantastic show to *watch*—but that’s not why I do it. And not how I want to do it.”

Sir Pentious

"Hmm. Yes, I think I agree with you there. I wouldn't want to be scored on something like that." He made a face-- not that Alastor could see. Telly leaned against the bed, chin resting on his arms.

"I do think it would be fun to watch, though-- maybe we can see if there's ones to watch here in Hell sometime!"

Alastor

“Oh, sure, there are drag shows and balls all the time! Competitive and otherwise. Just let me know what kind you want to see, and if I don’t know where one’s happening within a month I’ll know somebody else who does.”

Sir Pentious

"Perhaps sometime in the future, both our schedules are fairly full currently!" He chuckled.

"I never thought of drag as a performance before, but after the masquerade, I can see why some would want to put on a show! It seems fun..."

Alastor

“Maybe in a few years you’ll be the one getting on stage!” Running water sound~ He’s got to wash out and restyle his hair. In the sink, apparently. “When did you start doing drag? Surely the masquerade wasn’t your first time?”

Sir Pentious

He hummed again, giving a soft sigh.

"I wanted to, in life, but of course, Mother and Father would never allow it. They'd punish me if they saw me trying to try on any of my sister's gowns. And my elder sisters would tattle on me, too. So I stopped trying.

"But then, once I got to Hell, I realized that not only was it easier now, but also more practical, considering I don't even wear pants anymore. And there was no one around to tell me no! I had a few dresses commissioned-- they're still in my closet. But I only ever wore them in private. It was still the late 1800s and early 1900s at the time, after all, and I had a reputation to keep.

"I got more and more as time went on, and started wearing them casually whenever I didn't need to wear my suit. But still, I only wore them out a couple times before the ball. And I'd never worn one as extravagant as that costume!"

Alastor

Oh, he’s got to ask to see those older dresses sometime. “You certainly wore it well!”

The running water stopped as he got to work combing out and styling his wet hair. “And... what does it *mean* to you, when you do it?”

Sir Pentious

Telly fell silent, thinking on the question. He puzzled over it for a good bit before he answered.

"I'm not sure, really. I just like wearing them! But they're just clothes. I'm as comfortable in them as I am in my suit, or even nothing at all. I _do_ enjoy the way they swish around me, though."

Alastor

Alastor wasn’t sure what he was expecting—or even if he’d been expecting anything at all—but somehow the fact that it was that simple disappointed him. What *had* he wanted to hear?

He could wonder about that later. He kept his disappointment out of his voice as he asked, “So it’s just another fashion option, nothing more nor less?”

Sir Pentious

"Yes, I suppose. They make me happy, though, and that's what's important! Though, honestly, so do my novelty snake themed tee shirts!"

He hissed out a laugh.

Alastor

“I *am* a fan of those shirts!” And not just because he’d started stealing them to serve as his undershirts. What was he wearing now? He pulled out his collar to check. Ah! The bananaconda. One of his personal favorites. “I especially like the ones with puns! Some of them are... *hiss-terical.*”

Sir Pentious

Another, louder, and hissier laugh!!! "Oh yes! I adore them! They're so comfortable and give me a good guffaw!!"

Alastor

Okay, he was on the finishing touches. He slipped his shoes away from the door and back on, and... “Ta-daaa!”

Not a whole lot changed. He redid his hair, added eyeshadow (he was already wearing lipstick), removed his coat and bow tie, unbuttoned his top a little, and switched his pants for a skirt and his socks for stockings. Most of his time in the bathroom had been spent on rinsing out his hair, combing it into a slightly more feminine bob, and gelling it in place. It was, as he’d promised, very minimalist drag.

Sir Pentious

Oh, but the changes, no matter how small, added up to a lot in Telly's eyes-- which were currently blown wide like a cat seeing a new toy. He got up and slithered over, cupping Alastor's face in his claws.

And he just leaned in and kissed him.

Alastor

Alastor returned the kiss, then leaned back and winked. “You know, I *thought* you might say something like that.” He had a very convincing Southern Belle voice he used when fully dolled up.

Sir Pentious

Oh. _Oh._ That voice. That voice!! It did things to him. He grinned lifting Alastor off the ground, arms wrapped tight around his waist.

"Madame!!! You are lovely and charming, and I am filled with adoration!!"

Alastor

“Well, aren’t you just the most *flattering* gentleman!” Alastor pulled out a fan (the ray gun fan) to “cool off.” “You’re going to put me in a swoon, talking like that!”

Sir Pentious

"Of course! What gentleman _wouldn't_ be caught up by such a darling belle!"

Telly leaned in, kissing all over Alastor's face and neck. He simply couldn't get ENOUGH.

Alastor

*Oh—* Alastor returned as many kisses as he could, peppering them across Telly’s face and hood. When he finally started laughing, it was in his usual voice. “Amazing the difference a little eyeshadow and re-parting your hair can make, isn’t it?”

Sir Pentious

He needed a moment to come back to himself, his grin face splitting.

"Oh, yes! It's quite amazing!" And he's going to nuzzle right into the neck and start purring. He lives here now.

Alastor

Alastor will waive the rent if Telly keeps paying in purrs. It’s like a free neck massage. He laughs. “Do you like it that much?”

Sir Pentious

"Well, I think if it wasn't you, then I don't know. But it IS you and so, yes, I like it very much." He pressed kisses to Alastor's neck, still purring there against him.

"The accent is very cute, too."

Alastor

Alastor slung both arms around Telly’s shoulders to keep himself steady under the barrage of kisses. “Oh, the accent was a hit in New York, let me tell you! I never was decorated enough to turn heads, but if I could get someone in a conversation, I’d have a whole crowd hanging off of me in five minutes! It’s even better now that I can **play with my voice.**” Radio Demon, bass boosted.

Sir Pentious

Telly laughed at the bass boosting, his hood flaring out-- this time with delight! That's a new one, but a good one.

"Yes, I bet you can do all SORTS of things with your voice now, can't you?"

Alastor

Most people were freaked out by the sudden bass boost. The fact that Telly laughed gets a wide smile that crinkles the corners of Alastor’s eyes. “Truth be told, I mainly use it to discourage fights or sing a little better. Not *that* much better, mind. I’ve always been pretty good.”

Sir Pentious

"I _do_ like it when you sing, you should sing more!" He leaned in to pepper more kisses onto Alastor. Mostly on his neck. Smooch, smooch, smooch, and then....his mouth opened and he scraped his fangs against his skin. Time to be a tease.

Alastor

“Oh, *should* I!” Dangerous words around the Radio Demon A musical backing track started up...

And sputtered, and started and stopped again, as he was distracted by the teeth scraping. “... Gladly, when you’re not giving me something else to do with my mouth.” He tries to catch Telly’s mouth so he can get those teeth on his lips.

((And after this they get raunchy, so part 2 tomorrow))

#usedhearts #chat log

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secretagentspydetectiveninja · 6 years

Text

No Romo - chapter 2

Long overdue new chapter, and it’s almost the end of Aro/Ace August already, oops! Anyway have some more of the museum kids being best friends

AO3 | 1

“I’m pretty sure Juleka’s about to get akumatized,” Nathaniel said, sitting down on the steps in front of Alix. “Rose was telling me about it. Apparently Juleka missed the class photo because she got locked in the toilets. By Chloé, of course.”

He had opened his little sketchpad on his knees and taken a pencil out from behind his ear. Alix leaned over to watch what he was drawing – now that she was part of the art club, she tended to spend a lot of time watching Nath work on his art. Not only was it helpful to learn new skills, but it was an excuse to hang out with him even more. These days she used pretty much any chance she could get to talk to him.

“What kind of akuma villain do you think she’ll be?” she asked. “Juleka’s all gothy, right? Maybe she’ll be a vampire or something.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” Nath was drawing a figure outline on his sketchpad, his red fringe falling over his face as he looked down at it. “Her eyes are already red. Maybe her skin will be deathly pale, though, like a sheet. And she’ll have those vampire fangs.”

“And a cape. Vampires have capes, right?”

“I think it depends on the vampire. But yeah, I’ll give her a cape.” He added a loose triangle onto the back of the figure. “One of those big collars, too. Wait… will she sparkle? Is she one of those vampires?”

Alix shrugged. “I have no idea what her opinion is on sparkling vampires.”

Nath paused to think for a second, before shaking his head. “Nope. No sparkles. I can’t be bothered to draw them.”

He had a grin on his face now, and Alix continued to watch him draw with interest. These days he was much more open with her than he used to be, cracking jokes and encouraging her ridiculous sense of humour. She hadn’t realized quite how attached to him she had become until she found herself paying attention to him even when he wasn’t interacting with her. More outspoken now, he talked to other members of their class fairly often, and it was all too easy to let her focus rest on them, all the way on the other side of the room, than on whatever work she was supposed to be doing.

Why did she even find him so cool in the first place? She couldn’t put her finger on it. But it was undeniable – Nathaniel was absolutely, definitely, 100% the coolest kid in her class. He had to be. Why else would she be so dead-set on being best friends with him? No one else in the class was worth quite that much effort, even though they were all pretty cool too.

“What kind of powers would she have?” Nath continued, head resting on his arm as he carried on sketching. “I guess there’s always biting people, like actual vampires do, but that would be kinda, uh… weird. Hawk Moth hasn’t been giving people overly weird powers yet.”

“Well vampires don’t have reflections,” Alix suggested. “And Juleka’s got that curse thing where she doesn’t show up in photos, right? So maybe she’ll curse everyone else to have no reflections or appearances in photos, something like that.”

“Hmm. That would make sense. Though it’s not a very aggressive power, is it? It’ll take forever for Ladybug and Chat Noir to notice something like that.”

“True…”

He suddenly held up the sketchpad at her, a sunny smile on his face. “Done! What do you think?”

It was a quick little sketch, unmistakeably Juleka, but seemingly dressed more like Count Dracula. Alix nodded, smiling back. “Perfect. I bet that’s exactly what she’s gonna look like.”

“We’ll just wait and see, then…”

At that moment there were shocked gasps from others in the courtyard. Alix and Nath turned to see that an akuma villain had just landed, one that was now making an announcement, and sure enough that was Juleka’s voice echoing through the school – a crueller version, but certainly her.

And she looked nothing like a vampire whatsoever.

“Welp, we were so wrong,” Alix muttered.

“Yep.” Nath ripped out the piece of paper and scrunched it up. “So, so wrong.”

“I wasn’t expecting a giant pink clown.”

“That’s the last thing I was expecting.”

“I’m gonna say it. She looks ridiculous.”

“Hard agreed.”

“Uh, she’s zapping people, do you think we should get out of here or…?”

“Shit, yeah. See you in art club later!”

Nathaniel leapt to his feet and sped off. For a second Alix had to restrain her laughter – she’d never heard Nath swear before! He had always seemed like one of those goody-two-shoes kids who wouldn’t curse if you paid them. But evidently all he needed was to be around someone he was comfortable with. Like her.

A shot from evil Juleka zoomed past her shoulder, jolting her out of her thoughts. Oh yeah, akuma attack. She needed to get away. Being turned into a weird pink clown clone was not on her to-do list today.

It was much later than usual when the members of her class finally made it to art club. After Reflekta’s attack, everyone had banded together to help take a proper class photo with Juleka in it, which took up quite a lot of time. Alix didn’t mind at all, though. Juleka was a pretty cool friend too, it just seemed right to help her feel better. Or maybe Alix was just getting friendlier in general these days.

“Alix, there you are!” Nath was already sitting at the table and waving her over. She hurried to join him.

“Dude, you didn’t wait for me at the park–”

“I had to get my surprise for you ready.”

“Surprise…?”

He tapped the little sketchbook that was on the desk. “I’ve been working on a new comic idea, and I think you’ll like this one.”

A new comic? Yes! Nath’s comics these days were always fun to read, now that they weren’t just pages and pages of self-indulgent Nathanette fluff.

“Is it another superhero one?” she asked.

“No, it’s… um…” He lowered his voice. “Look, I know I’m not really good at coming up with story ideas, and so much of what I draw is all sappy and lovey-dovey and you’re not into that stuff.”

“Who cares if I’m not into it? Just draw what you want.”

“What I want is to draw something you’ll like! So here, I did this…” Nath opened the sketchbook to show her the first page. “It’s a soulmate AU, but from the point-of-view of someone who’s aromantic.”

Just hearing the words “soulmate AU” had already set Alix’s brain to fight mode, at least, until the second part of that sentence registered in her brain. An aromantic character, in a soulmate AU? Surely those things were mutually exclusive. She looked at the page to see Nath’s artwork of the aromantic protagonist, a moody-looking girl with frizzy green hair.

“In this AU,” he continued, turning the page, “people see hearts when they fall in love, and red hearts if it’s their soulmate. This character has never seen the hearts, though, and it’s highly unusual to have reached her age without seeing them even once. She wonders what’s wrong.”

There were more sketches on these pages, fit into comic-style panels with captions over the top. The moody girl was even grumpier now, her peers all swooning over invisible hearts while she looked on from the corner, unable to understand what she was missing.

“But sometimes, when she looks at people, she sees stars. She doesn’t really tell anyone. Until…”

He turned over another page. The girl was no longer moody – all of a sudden her eyes were wide in surprise, and the panel around her filled with golden sparkles.

“…one day she meets someone, and for the first time, she sees bright yellow stars. It’s never happened before. And this person sees the yellow stars too when they meet her. They’ve seen hearts before, but never stars like this.”

Sure enough, the page was covered in glittering stars. It looked like Nath had got a yellow gel pen and just gone wild with it. The girl and her new acquaintance both appeared in awe of what they were seeing, stars around them everywhere.

“And then, uh… well I haven’t thought so much about this part but I guess they make best friends forever and live happily ever after. The girl realizes she can be happy without romance and the only reason she was miserable before was because everyone else was making her feel that way. Or something. You’re the aro one, you can help me with the inner turmoil bit.” He closed the sketchbook and turned to look at her. “So, what do you think?”

What did she think? Well, considering how much she was having to internally restrain herself from just glomping him in a hug and never letting go…

“It’s awesome!” She settled for giving him a little punch on the arm instead. “Seriously, you’re really gonna make a comic about that?”

“Yeah! I really need to branch out and draw comics about characters who don’t have love interests. Well… romantic love interests, I mean. Friendship is fine.” He blushed a little. “Actually, it’s kind of for me. I was really heartbroken for a while after the Evillustrator thing, and I need to remind my brain that it’s okay to focus more on friends, than on… Marinette…”

His voice had gone rather quiet, considering that Marinette herself was in the room.

“Are you still into her?” Alix asked.

“I… I don’t think so.”

“Then you should make friends with her too.”

He blushed even more. “I’m not really good at making friends.”

“Are you sure?” Alix said, putting an arm around him. “Because you seem to be doing an awesome job at making friends with me so far. I mean, convincing me to join art club? Drawing the aro comic thing? Nerf gun battles? Dude, you are top notch friendship material. Best friendship material. I really mean it.”

He seemed quite taken aback by her compliments for a few seconds. Alix herself was surprised too – she didn’t tend to say things like that directly to people’s faces, usually too wary that being overly nice might be mistaken for flirting, which was just… ew. But at least Nathaniel would properly understand the sentiment.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “If I could make friends with you, I can make proper friends with Marinette too.”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!”

“Thanks, Alix. And…” He gave her a sunny smile and put the sketchbook in her hands. “Thanks for being my friend. You’re top notch friendship material too. Making this comic with you is gonna be so much fun.”

Top notch friendship material… man, it was so nice to hear someone other than Jalil saying that. Pretty much everyone else in the class already had their own top notch friend, and there was no room for Alix there except as an undignified third wheel, a hanger-on, uninvited and unwelcome. Now Nath had changed all that.

She watched as he got up and went to go compliment Marinette on whatever fashion thing she was working on. He still seemed quite shy, but at least Marinette was one of the nicest members of the class, even going so far as to organize Juleka’s rescheduled class photo earlier. It wouldn’t be difficult for them to make friends.

Alix flicked through Nath’s sketchbook, taking a closer look at the draft work for his new comic. He really was very good at art, wasn’t he? This green-haired girl looked real enough to leap out of the page any second.

You’re the aro one, you can help me with the inner turmoil bit. So he wanted her help with story advice. That, she could definitely offer. There were too many stories to tell, stories of angst, frustration, disbelief, confusion, tears… the usual run-of-the-mill depressing aro experiences. Plenty of those to pick from, unfortunately.

This green-haired girl, though. Something about her seemed familiar to Alix. Nath didn’t base the character on her, did he…?

Nathaniel worked hard on his comic. He worked hard on all his comics, of course, but this felt different. This time he wasn’t just drawing to cater to his own whims. This time he wanted it to be a present for Alix.

There were too many reasons to pinpoint just one. There was the fact that they were pretty much best friends at this point, true. There was also the fact that both of them being ace gave him a sort of connection to her that was hard to describe in words. Was “ace solidarity” a thing? It sure felt like it.

And she inspired him. It had been so long since he’d had a close friend that he was used to keeping to himself all the time. Even now he was still quiet, of course, but things were different. He could casually chat with the rest of his classmates without the nerves to accompany it. He felt freer to say what was on his mind, to share his true feelings.

He still wished he could be more like her. How amazing would it be to be as cool as someone like her? As much as he tried, he couldn’t do it. But then maybe that was a good thing. After all, she seemed to like hanging out with him just the way he was.

“How is it?” he asked as she read the finished comic in her room one day after school. “Is it good? Should I change anything?”

There was a spark in her eyes. “Dude, this is so cool! I love it!”

“You do?”

“Hell yes!” Within a second she had put down the comic and clung onto him in a hug. Considering how small she was, it was… kind of adorable, actually. Like a koala on a tree. “Listen, I’m… I’m not a huggy person, so don’t get used to this. But uh… if you ever need anything, like ever, at all, I will help you with it. Up to and including murder.”

He gladly hugged her back. “What, because I drew a comic for you?”

“Because you drew something that’s more relatable than anything else,” she said, pulling back to look at him. “It’s hard to get into stuff when everything’s so damn shippy all the time. But you went out of your way to do this for me, so yeah. Thank you. I will lay down my life for you in the skeleton war.”

Nath grinned and gave her hair a ruffle. “I forbid you from sacrificing yourself in the skeleton war. But I’m really happy you liked the comic.”

“The main character, is she based on… um, anyone you know?”

“Yes, that’s you.”

“I knew it! So the guy she makes friends with, is that you?”

He simply shrugged, though the answer was a resounding yes. From the way she was looking at him, he could tell that she knew it perfectly well. It had been pretty obvious. Maybe it would be best to keep this particular comic just between the two of them for now.

“Anyway, you need any help with anything?” Alix asked. “Not murder or skeleton wars, I know. But really, I’ll do my best to help.”

“Nah, I don’t think there’s anything I need help with right now, unless you can come up with an idea for a new comic…”

“The adventures of Alix and Nathaniel sock-sliding around the Louvre after hours and avoiding security.”

“Uh… was that a suggestion for a comic, or a suggestion for real life?”

“Both.” She had a smirk on her face now. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you drawing the Louvre in the backgrounds of all your drawings, you know.”

“Well, it’s easy to draw…”

That was only partially true. Yes, a quick sketch of the iconic pyramid was easier than bothering with a proper detailed background, but the truth was that this place was starting to feel like a second home to him. The art exhibits had always had a soft spot in his heart, but now this area did too. The Kubdel quarters.

“But yes, let’s go sock-sliding!” he said quickly.

“Yeah! And let’s not get caught this time…”

“I’ll be stealthier now, I swear…”

He kicked off his shoes and followed her out of her room, looking forward to this. Silly adventure shenanigans were a lot more fun than he used to think – but then maybe that was because he was with Alix.

It was a while before her offer for help was actually needed. Those several weeks were some of the best yet – Nath worked on new comics, became more sure of himself, made friends with more of his classmates, and even made friends with people outside his class. Like Marc, that blushy new kid in the art club who was even shyer than him.

That didn’t last.

It was all that diary’s fault. “Ladybug’s” diary. Marinette had given it to him, and she was friends with Alya, who ran the Ladyblog, right? She could feasibly have acquired such a thing, right? Nath didn’t have any reason to doubt that this was the real, legit diary of Ladybug. He expected it to be.

So when it turned out to be Marc…

It was strange how, when in a situation where Nath was not the shyest one around, it was so easy to become complacent. To lose his temper. To assume the worst. It reminded him all too clearly of his birthday, where Chloé had taken his sketchbook and made a fool of him in class, announcing his crush on Marinette to the world, followed by Evillustrator being betrayed by the girl of his dreams.

Was this Marinette’s revenge? Was she teaming up with Marc to make a fool of Nath again?

Please pick up, please pick up…

He held his phone to his ear as he strode towards the Louvre, having left Marc back at the park with that stupid diary. His brain still wasn’t working right – well, it didn’t seem to work right around Marc anyway for some odd reason, but that was beside the point. The blind panic that this situation had put him in, that he was being humiliated again, it was impossible to control, and he just needed to talk to–

“Hey Nath, what’s up?”

“Oh Alix, thank god you’re there!” He clutched the phone tighter, his pace increasing. “Are you at the Louvre right now? Can I come over?”

“Sure, what’s wrong?”

Could she tell from his voice? Maybe she could. “I need to talk about something that just happened, I… I’m scared I’m gonna get akumatized again, I’m just in such a bad mood…”

“Aw man, what happened?”

“I’ll tell you when I get there. See you soon.”

“Alright, take care of yourself…”

He hung up and hurried on. Even despite all his new friendships recently, they were all seeming so superficial right now. Any one of his classmates could suddenly turn on him, the way Marinette and Marc had just done. Taking advantage of his feelings. Playing a cruel trick on him.

And yet… he still trusted Alix. Somehow, instinctively, he found himself gravitating towards the Louvre – the one place where he always felt welcome no matter what, where he could let his guard down and just be himself without any worries clouding his mind. He used to wonder if it was the feeling of being in a museum, surrounded by art, that put him at ease. Now, he was beginning to believe it was more to do with the tiny little lifesaver who “allegedly” lived there.

Alix was his best friend. If there was anyone he could turn to for help, it was her. He never had been any good at letting his guard down, but for once in his life he needed to confide in someone. She had promised to help him, and he was counting on that.

#i probably won't get this finished in august but eh whatever #miraculous ladybug #aro ace august #alix kubdel #nathaniel kurtzberg #cinnamon roll tomato cutie #museum brotp #miraculace #random stuff #aish writes

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