Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
May 18, 2020 6:59 PM
Some things you ought to know. [Dorian] by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
One class down. Not even one day down, just one class. Mary was already exhausted. After the Feast and her conversation with Tabitha, she'd slept better than she had in a while, but that was a low bar. She sort of hated that she and Tabitha taught Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, because it meant that they ha to start first thing in the week, but it was helpful that Dora's parents only taught Tuesdays and Thursdays (as much as a substitute teacher's schedule could be regular at least) and they were watching both Dora and Zeus for this first day.Now, thank Merlin, there was a break in Mary's schedule. Advanced potions was done, and she would have probably taken a nap if not for one very important conversation that needed to be had sooner rather than later. As it turned out, she wasn't the only one thinking that, because the object of her need stayed after class. Dorian was a seventh year now, which was exciting and also completely heartbreaking, and his lingering was good and bad news. There was a chance it meant that his summer had not gone particularly well, and she would have rather liked to check in with him without being half Inferi at the moment. It wasn't like he couldn't tell from seeing her in class that she was exhausted, which she suspected would only make him worry more. Still, she'd worn makeup, and washed her face and put on her hat, and she was going to be okay. She was going to be okay.
When the reset of the advanced class had cleared out and only Dorian was still there, Mary greeted him with a smile. He was easy to smile at and she was so proud of him. She was glad that they had a precedence of hugs that were student initiated as it still didn't feel quite appropriate to initiate them herself - one good thing related to his impending graduation - and she waited to let him do that or not as he saw fit.
"Hello, Dorian," Mary said, relaxing a little now that she wasn't actively teaching. She remained standing, leaning on her desk, so as not to fall asleep in a comfortable chair. At least not yet. "I'm sorry if you tried to come by earlier. It's been a hectic summer for me. How was yours? Things go about as expected?" She cocked her head at the young adult who stood before her. "I don't know if I told you after the Ball, but I'm really really proud of you, and I'm so happy for you."
OOC - Dora's family watching all the bebes approved by Isis' author. Dorian staying after class approved by Dorian's author. Yay collaboration!
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Some things you ought to know. [Dorian]
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Dorian Montoir
May 19, 2020 6:55 AM
Oh? by Dorian Montoir
It was pretty much a ritual now that Dorian would stay behind after the first potions class of the year. Admittedly, there was usually a compelling reason why he wanted or needed to, but he thought the habit would have stuck even without one – that talking to Professor Brooding and catching up about holidays would have been enough of a reason, even if the holidays didn’t keep turning his life upside down.He had noticed at the feast that she looked rather tired, and the same was true today. She still smelt the same though, as he leant in and hugged her. He tried to focus on the cutting, sharp scent of pine rather than the sweeter note of jasmine, as the latter came with rather a lot of baggage.
“If expected is complicated, then yes,” he sighed, as she asked about his summer. He suspected that would have been her prediction too, and it seemed she had at least been thinking about him even though she had been unavailable. “But… I am okay,” he assured her, in a tone that said that was a relative value. There were things to tell and to talk over, but nothing was as desperately wrong as it had been at other times – nor as heart-soaringly perfect and over the moon as it had been the time he’d been able to come back and tell her about having a boyfriend. He settled into his usual seat, his heart swelling as she said she was proud of him. Not for the badge on his chest, but for what he’d done last term. He had been proud of himself too. And giddy, and excited. And he had had to come down from that very sharply over the summer. To fight about the decisions he had made, and to see two people turn on him over them, albeit for very, very different reasons.
It was nice to hear someone sound as uncomplicatedly happy about it as he had felt at the time.
“Thank you,” he smiled, and he could feel the warmth stirring in his chest as all the good feelings came rushing back. “I… I was proud of me too. It felt good,” he admitted. “And people don’t hate me,” he added softly, touching the head boy badge on the front of his robes.
“I think, with Mama-” but he cut himself off. Because there was probably rather a lot to say there, and the more he looked at Professor Brooding the less okay she looked, and when he coupled that with her not being around yesterday, and how unusual that was... “Are you okay?” he checked, “You look…” – ‘tired’ was probably rude, “not your usual self,” he offered.
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Dorian Montoir
Oh?
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
May 19, 2020 10:39 AM
Just one or two. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Mary smiled, agreeing wholeheartedly with Dorian's nutshelling. "People don't hate you," she confirmed. Of course, she knew as well as he did that there were people who did, but they were wrong and that was that. If the only crime someone ever committed was loving somebody - truly, not when people say "I love you" but really just use it as an excuse to get away with hurting someone - then they hadn't committed a crime at all. "We can talk about it if you want," she added when Dorian cut himself off. It was sweet of him to do, but she didn't want to take a single moment away from caring about him first. That was her duty and she'd have done it even if she hadn't wanted to.Unfortunately, his question struck a nerve that Mary was rather hoping to avoid striking and she blinked a few times to clear her eyes. She looked down at the floor and then back up to Dorian's face, a small, embarrassed smile changing her expression. "I probably look like a mess," she chuckled, trying to figure out the words to say everything she wanted to say. It was a delicate balance between keeping Dorian's anxiety from going way up, phrasing this whole situation as explicitly bad or explicitly good (although she was less concerned about the latter), and getting out everything she wanted to without crying her eyes out. There was also the fact that there was a lot of backstory here and even Tabitha, who had known most of it, had had some gaps to fill in. Mary was too tired to remember how much or what she'd told Dorian before.
She gave in and took the seat across from Dorian when he sat, and waved her wand to summon drinks. When nothing immediately happened, she waved it a second time, a bit harder, and was pleased to drinks on their way from her cupboard. She poured herself a large cup of black coffee and thought for a moment before speaking.
"I forget how much I've already told you, so bear with me," she said, figuring honesty and the beginning were good places to start. "Before Professor Hawthorne and I were together, I was in a relationship with a woman named Michelle. She was a veela." She watched Dorian's face for a reaction. Normally she wouldn't have described Michelle like that off the bat, but it was going to be painfully clear why that mattered here soon. "When we broke up, she married a man who made her very happy. She had always wanted a baby, and she had one shortly after they got married, around the time I started working here." She smiled a little, remembering the weirdness of courting a colleague. "I got everything I wanted too," she said, in case Dorian wasn't sure where she stood on this. "Michelle didn't have a lot of other people in her life and apparently her husband didn't either . . . they . . . uh . . ." So much blinking and it didn't seem to be doing enough.
Mary coughed to clear her throat and wiped her cheek when one tear went rogue. "Sorry. Uh, Michelle and her husband passed away this summer. Their will stipulated that myself - and whomever my spouse was if I had one - should take guardianship of their child." She looked at Dorian with almost pleading eyes. "Zeus is four and a half," she said quietly, her tears finally getting the better of her. "You'll have to come meet him sometime soon."
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Just one or two.
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Dorian Montoir
May 19, 2020 11:10 PM
They're quite big ones though by Dorian Montoir
CW - accidental biphobia/bi erasure, internalised homophobia“You do not!” Dorian protested, when Professor Brooding said she probably looked like a mess. He had not said that! And he knew he wasn’t exactly regarded as an expert in that field, but he had not and would never have said that.
“We can talk about you first,” he offered, when she said he could talk about home if he wanted. He did want to, but watching Professor Brooding take two attempts to summon drinks was definitely concerning. Was she sick? Was it really bad? He felt his heart squeezing with fear at the idea of that. But she was back in school… She was still here, so whatever it was couldn’t be so awful that she was going to be taken away from him, right?? Either way, it definitely seemed like it should be her turn to go first, for once.
He had known that Professor Brooding had loved someone else before Professor Hawthorne, even if it wasn’t exactly his favourite subject in the world, so at least that part didn’t come as a shock. Most of the rest of what she said did though. Michelle had just… quit being into women and gone and married a guy? That was… a thing that happened? That was a thing he had been firmly telling his Mama all summer did not and would not happen. And that even though he was only seventeen he knew and understood himself, and what he was doing, and that he was not going to change his mind about this in a couple of years. He… he thought he was sure about that, but he had also thought, from all his talks with Professor Brooding, that he was supposed to feel sure about that. That just upping and changing your mind like that didn’t happen.
Then there was the child. And the general subject of children. They had had the Transfiguration lesson with Charlie last year. Dorian had known both that he was the librarian’s son and that the librarian was married to another man, so that had been a Whole Big Thing to get his head around. He’d had a very brief and tentative talk with the librarian, and found out that Charlie was adopted and that that was therefore a thing people like them did sometimes. In the back of his mind, he’d known that meant that Charlie had previously had other parents who were no longer around, but he’d tried to put that thought out of his mind and just think about how nice it was that the librarian had a family. It came screaming back now though. Had Mr. Fox-Reynolds known Charlie’s parents, and had ended up with him the same way that Professor Brooding had now ended up with this Zeus child? Was that how it happened for people like them? Did you have to know someone well enough that they would trust you with their child, and then have to see them die? He had a brief mental image of him trying to raise Tatya’s children, him and Vlad doing their best to ensure they knew enough Russian, but it was too horrible to even think like that.
It also cut rather close to a lot of the issues that his mother had raised, regarding the subject of having descendents. It was something he had half planned to ask Professor Brooding about, given that his sketchy knowledge of Charlie’s existence had felt insufficient to answer her questions.
Everything felt so wrong. Normally you congratulated people when they had a child. It felt like the word that was furthest from being appropriate. He felt a little stab of anger at the world for making this sad and complicated instead of nice, and wondered whether that was the price for not being normal - that you were always going to get a messed up, perverted version of everyone else’s joyful moments. Maybe he’d been lying to his Mama all summer, and it really wasn’t going to all work out like Almost Normal for him. But the Brooding-Hawthorne wedding hadn’t felt like that. Their wedding had felt… real.
He also really had to wonder whether Professor Brooding was cursed in some way. He really hoped that, being married to the Defence teacher, they would have figured it out if that was the case, but first there had been her brother, then her parents had died young, and now this… He really thought he might have to ask Professor (Brooding)-Hawthorne to look into it, both for Professor Brooding-(Hawthorne)’s sake and frankly for his own. He really wanted to maintain a relationship with her after graduation but that was honestly seeming like a risky business right now.
She ended her speech and he had questions, so many questions. And feelings. The biggest of which were panic and confusion. And it was very odd, feeling like the shoe was on the other foot right now, and that in spite of everything that was rattling around in his own brain, he had to make it be quiet for her sake. He wondered if it had been as noisy and confusing inside her head all the times she’d had to deal with his problems. He thought it probably hadn’t been because she was a real grown up and actually knew the answers, whereas he just seemed to be playing the part lately.
“You don’t have to say sorry for your feelings,” he reminded her, pretty sure she’d taught him that somewhere along the way. “Do you need another hug?” he offered. “Or to talk about it?” he asked. He wasn’t sure how welcome he was to play the adult and to try to look after her - she might find it insulting or inappropriate - but he thought he ought to try at least.
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Dorian Montoir
They're quite big ones though
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
May 19, 2020 11:28 PM
Eh, Zeus is kind of small. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Mary smiled and nodded, happy to accept another hug. Parker would have been older than Dorian, but as the latter had gotten older himself, he reminded Mary more of the former. They both had dark hair and kind souls and gave good hugs and what Mary wouldn't give to hug her brother one more time. Of course, Parker might have grown up to be an utter craphead because he was only nine and it was hard to predict such things, but Mary was pretty sure he would have been more like Dorian than Dorian's brother."I think talking about it would be helpful," Mary agreed when they sat back down. She was more contemplative than emotional now and was realizing in retrospect that she probably should have broken this news to Dorian a bit more considerately. "And I'm happy to answer your questions. I would guess that you have many seeing as you and I are maybe a bit alike in some ways," she added, familiar with his thoughtful face. Also, she was a teacher at heart and answering other people's questions about the world sometimes helped the world make a little more sense to her. A vivid mental image of hosting an LGBTQIA+ panel in the library, hosted with Tarquin and providing polyjuice potion to anyone who was uncomfortable being outed or feeling outed by attending sprang to mind, although she doubted such a topic would be approved, even at a school as relatively liberal as Sonora. Perhaps one of these Tumbleweed trips . . . She filed that away to ask Tarquin about later. "If I'm not okay answering something, I'll tell you. You don't have to worry about asking."
She rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath, considering. Actually moving forward with talking about this was a bit harder than the theory of it. Dorian probably wouldn't ask questions that weren't appropriate for her to answer, in part because they were less inappropriate if he was the one asking. My marriage has been on the rocks for months but I love her so dang much that we were getting through it. Talked about having a kid and then boom, had a kid. So now I'm basically a disaster of a human and don't even get me started on my mothering skills. It just seemed like a bit much.
"I should probably also add that Zeus is a lovely, precious, smart, funny little boy, and I'm a very lucky woman to get to raise him with my wife," she said with a small smile, thinking of the way Zeus scrunched up his face at Tabitha sometimes, like he was trying to just get her to react to see what happened. "And that if you're looking for a job post-graduation, babysitting is definitely on the table." She put a hand on her head, accidentally emphasizing her need for childcare, although Isis and Nathan were doing a lot - more than their fair share - in that regard.
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Eh, Zeus is kind of small.
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Dorian Montoir
May 19, 2020 11:53 PM
Depends on the scale by Dorian Montoir
Hugging was probably the part where it was easiest to feel like a grown up because Professor Brooding was even smaller than he was. Not that that was a marker of adultness - between her and his mother, he was very, very used to being taller than the adults who looked after him. But he knew from being on the receiving end of much taller hugs that there was something comforting about someone who was big enough to put their arms around you and shut out the rest of the world, and he hoped his hugs seemed good enough to do that, if only for a moment.She seemed to be back to being Professor Brooding after that. She was turning it back on him, even though she said talking would help, asking whether he had questions. Which, of course, he did. Though as she invited them to be put forward, he felt his mind drying up, or at least stumbling over how to ask anything that he was thinking.
He nodded vaguely, with a small smile at her description of Zeus, not really sure what else to do with that. He sounded really special to Professor Brooding. Already. Obviously, he wasn’t jealous of a four and a half year old orphan. That would be pathetic. Even if his presence did explain why Professor Brooding had been too busy for Dorian last night. He brushed the thought aside about what was going to happen to him if Professor Brooding had a real family. He also quieted down the reply that said this wasn’t one. Both of those weren’t very nice thoughts… It felt nice to hear she’d trust him as a babysitter. He tried to imagine a nicer version of the picture where he was still part of it instead of pushed to the sidelines. And then pushed that all out of his head because he wasn’t jealous anyway.
“I… I know that Charlie is adopted too. Mr. Fox-Reynolds’ son. I… is it… did the same thing-?” he fumbled, tilting his head quizzically. “With Mama, one of the big things she is worrying about is that I’m never going to have a family,” he added, figuring both that their problems tied together and also that he possibly should explain what might seem like an otherwise morbid fascination with where orphans came from, “And… I knew about Charlie, but not really enough. Not enough to really answer.
“And… what should I be saying to you?” he added, “I feel like… normally babies are happy news. But he’s not a baby. And… you’re sad. Because of your… friend? And I don’t know what I should be feeling.”
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Dorian Montoir
Depends on the scale
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
May 20, 2020 1:10 AM
True. His presence feels very big. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Mary smiled to herself. This young man's curiousity was almost as big as his heart, and it meant a lot to her. She likes to think that she connected with most of her students, but she knew that wasn't always the case and, even if it was, there were fewer still with whom that connection was particularly meaningful. Dorian was top of that list, of course, although potions assistants usually ended up being students she knew better as well. They'd all done so much to impact Mary's life and she wasn't sure who she'd be now if not for them. Dorian, especially, had had a huge impact thus far, and his curiosity was just one of the many reasons why."There are lots of options," she assured him. If this ended up being the day that Mary had to explain the birds and the bees to Dorian, she was going to strangle Mrs. Montoir. That possibility not withstanding, she was generally not one to be squeamish about such things. Nature and the natural world was as much a part of her work as the charms that brought those things together as potions. "You can adopt the way Tabitha and I did, which doesn't happen often. Actually, I don't know anyone else that happened to. More likely, that would happen if a sibling passed away. You can adopt like Charlie's dads did, too. I'm guessing here, but most adoptions are through an adoption agency. There are lots of kids that don't have families and need adopted, muggle and magical, and you can give them a family."
Truth be told, adoption was a generally awkward thing to discuss for Mary. She'd not been adopted as she was nearing adulthood by the time she was without guardians anyway, but she'd brushed through the foster system enough to be aware of many of its shortcomings. One of those was the tendency for child adopting and puppy adopting to sound the same, and like either could be returned if it didn't work out. It was a gross, misinformed comparison, but also not a wholly incorrect one unfortunately, and Mary had known more than a handful of kids who'd been back more than once when foster or adoptive families didn't decide to keep them, or when those families turned out to be worse than going without.
She thought about mentioning that she and Tabitha had been planning on taking that route but decided against it. There was no reason to bring it up, and she didn't want to make him think she had been keeping it from him. She knew she was allowed to do so of course, but it seemed wrong. Dorian was family to her. If things hadn't gone sideways over the summer, they'd be having a very similar conversation in very different circumstances.
"You can also pay for a surrogate, especially if you want your baby to be biologically relates to you or your husband. A surrogate is a woman" - Mary wasn't about to add the later of non-binary and transgender identities on this already confusing topic and 'woman' would have to do for now - "who will get pregnant and carry a baby for you, and you pay for hospital bills and things. Then the baby is yours and she is not really around. Male-female couples sometimes hire surrogates if the female partner has infertility issues."
She smiled at Dorian, her eyes sparkling. "All that aside, you will have a family because you already do. At least, I hope you don't mind if I consider you family. I know that might not satisfy your mother but I do hope it brings you some peace to know that your graduation only means we stop talking if that's what you want." Mary resisted the urge to get up and hug Dorian again and just hold onto him until he was small again.
Instead, she nodded, agreeing with Dorian's confusion. "I don't know what I should be feeling either," Mary grimaced. "Tabitha... Well, we both had previous relationships - I'm not sure whether I mentioned her boyfriend before me? - but it is a bit awkward to ask your wife to adopt your ex-girlfriend's child with you." She laughed through her grimace then, acknowledging for the first time how utterly upside down everything was. "That makes me sad. And you're right, it does make me sad that Michelle died." It also made her angry, raging, furious, spiteful, grief stricken, heartbroken, and confused, but she wasn't going to get into that. "I think we can feel excited about a kid getting a home after a tragedy, and about Tabitha and I have a little one at home, and also sad about some of that stuff, too," she decided. Somehow, it was a huge relief to get there, and it wasn't something she'd realized until then that she needed. She hadn't really given herself permission to be happy and sad both at the same time.
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
True. His presence feels very big.
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Dorian Montoir
May 21, 2020 9:34 PM
Is he cuter than me? by Dorian Montoir
CW - homophobiaDorian’s face tightened as Professor Brooding-Hawthorne mentioned that this situation would most likely arise if a sibling passed away. He couldn’t decide which variation was more unpalatable - the thought of Émilie dying, or the thought of being stuck raising a child that was Matthieu’s. But then, of course, they each had each other… He had the feeling that that scenario was more likely to be true if there only were two siblings, or at least in his particular case. He could not imagine the good little Pureblood children of his siblings being handed over to his corrupting influence. Of course, there was Tatya too, again, but she had blood siblings aplenty… Happily, the conversation moved on pretty promptly from there. He wasn’t sure whether it was because there was little more to say on it or because the horror of those particular scenarios had been clear on his face. There were… different types of adoption. Ones that were less… dramatic and personal.
And then Professor Brooding was talking about a very different option and Dorian- Dorian decided that now would be a very good moment to help himself to some tea. He knew that babies came from things that married couples did together. He had been pressed firmly and passionately enough against a wall enough times by his boyfriend to even understand at least some of the… biology of that. At least on one side. However, he was definitely utterly perplexed as to how he would end up in a situation that made a baby with a woman who was not his wife. Firstly because that sounded deeply immoral, but also vastly impractical given the circumstances. Rather a lot of his current problems stemmed precisely from the fact that he was not interested in doing marital things with women.
“Thank you for explaining,” he stated in a strained tone that begged for there to be no further detail on that subject right now. Perhaps the McLeods had pamphlets about this sort of thing, in case he wanted to know any more about how any of that worked. He definitely did not want to discuss it with Professor Brooding-Hawthorne though, and it did not seem urgent to do so as he could not imagine that the notion that he could impregnate a random woman outside of wedlock was going to impress his very conservative mother.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean- of course,” he stated, turning wide and apologetic eyes to her as she reminded him he had a family. He scrambled out of his chair and onto the arm of hers. It wasn’t really fitting for him to be the taller one in this hug, but it would have to do. He also thought he might not bother returning to his own chair. It seemed like conversation was going to just require one continuous hug and all the getting up and down was just going to start being silly.
“I mean… I guess… ‘descendents,’” he sighed. The word sounded heavy, and he was aware of all the connotations of blood purity that came with it. He was aware that Professor Brooding-Hawthorne and he had never really discussed those ideas. His own feelings on that were… complicated. Did he think he was better than Parker, or anyone else, because of who his family were? No, of course not. Parker was a great guy. Did he think his parents were wrong or bad for caring about their line continuing? Also no. Those things didn’t seem mutually exclusive to him, and he wasn’t sure whether he was missing something, or just didn’t want to chuck out every value his parents had raised him with because they were still his parents… It wasn’t really an issue for now anyway. It wasn’t exactly that side of it that mattered right now. “It’s not… I mean, as the second son in this family, and in her family being the son of a daughter it’s not… like that,” he managed.
“It’s more… personal,” he sighed. Matthieu had never taken much of an interest in that half of his heritage. Émilie cherry picked, taking the bits she liked, treating it like something glamorous to accessorise or play with when the mood took her. He was the one who took it seriously. He was the one who was going to pass it on - whose children would know how to do more than just beg their nai nai for ice-cream.
“There’s… a bunch of culture stuff,” he attempted to summarise. “Stuff like… the fact that I was always the one who cared about it and-” and now she felt betrayed. And she was worried. And it was hard sometimes to tell where that worry was for his sake versus hers versus what everyone else thought. And it made sense. Because you were supposed to work to make your family happy and to honour them. You were supposed to respect your community. Upsetting one thing spread like a ripple from a stone, and that was why you shouldn’t do it… But this wasn’t some deliberate act of rebellion. It was just who he was. And he had tried again and again to make her see… if there was any element of choice, why would he do this? He knew she hadn’t exactly written the Rules of Being A Good Chinese Son, but frankly, he thought she got a damn bit of leeway in how she chose to interpret them. He understood that she was mad, or disappointed, or whatever, but he didn’t understand why she couldn’t just decide he was more important. It felt like she was forcing him to choose between being Chinese and being gay, and was all offended that he wasn’t picking her, when what he really wanted to do was not have to give up either because they both really mattered.
“And it’s important to honour the dead,” he said softly, worried this might be a touchy subject right now. “And we’re not… Like I said, it’s not like we’re the main line any more but-” But she was here, away from the rest of her family. She had taken this huge step away from everyone else who understood who she was and what mattered to her, and the hope she had had was raising her children well enough that it wouldn’t all be lost. And that, when she moved on, she wouldn’t be either. Her words echoed in his head, and he felt his eyes prickling with tears.
We might not be the kind of people who end up on the family tablets, but do you think that means we just disappear? I like to think that someone would still think to light incense for me on my birthday, and the anniversary of my death. Talk to me occasionally. And I know you will. But what happens after that? What about you? I can’t stand the thought that when you die, you’ll just be forgotten.
“Feelings are complicated,” he agreed, as she mentioned the mixed emotions she was going through.
All summer, it felt like he’d been fighting to get his mother to see things the way he did. She seemed to imagine that what he was doing, this idea that had got into his head from someone or somewhere, was going to ruin his life - and possibly be a decision whose consequences stretched out even beyond that point. It was like some external force, come to take away everything good she had hoped he would have.
It was so, so hard for me when I came here. Being an outsider. I worked and I worked to make sure you would have it better. And now you want to do this?
People will hate you. People will hurt you. I can’t let you do something that puts you in that kind of position.
And what mother wouldn’t want to fight that? Wouldn’t see it as her responsibility to change it?
You’re seventeen. You can’t know for certain… What if two years down the line, you think it was all a mistake, and you’ve got nothing to come back to?
And he had assured her that he wouldn’t. That he knew. That he was like this, and always would be. And no one had made him that way, and no one was going to change his mind back again. That had felt certain...
“Michelle… changed her mind? And Professor Hawthorne… changed the other way?” he queried anxiously. He had never thought there was any other option, and Professor Brooding had been so encouraging of him… being this. Following it through. That it was the right thing to do. He leaned away slightly, watching her carefully as she responded.
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Dorian Montoir
Is he cuter than me?
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
May 22, 2020 1:27 AM
Definitely not. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Dorian's discomfort would have been very funny to Mary if she wasn't in a position of some amount of power over him. Tabitha's discomfort was usually very amusing when it came to conversations about things where Mary was comfortable and Tabitha was more reserved. But this particular uncomfortable topic was not one to press with Dorian - or probably any of her students, shy of some concern in the matter - and she wasn't about to try. Also, she didn't really want to make get into something she couldn't take back or stop without finishing.There were a number of things going across Dorian's face and Mary wasn't sure whether she should ask about any of them. Dorian seemed quite willing to ask the questions he was comfortable asking about and she had to trust that he was taking care of himself in that regard. Plus, he was giving her hugs and she just really wanted hugs right now.
Empathy was difficult because the line between relating and one-upping was not always very clear cognitively, let alone emotionally. It was further complicated by dynamics that meant Mary maybe shouldn't empathise but sympathise. Plus, no one ever really understood someone else's situation and she certainly didn't want to sound like she thought she did. But she couldn't help thinking that there certainly were parallels between them, and between their families.
Her mother had been a proud woman who wanted a great many traditional things for her daughter. Despite her distinctly American upbringing, Mary was meant to be more than that, and a baby would have been just the start. Mary's wedding attire including a sari was a way for her to respect the dead in her own way, and she knew something about what that meant. But her mother certainly would have preferred a man be at the altar, even though Mary thought she probably would have loved Tabitha. They'd never had to have that conversation though and Mary felt equally guilty as relieved to know that she never had to have any memories of her mother being disappointed in her for her sexuality.
"I understand a bit about that," Mary said softly. "But I know it's not the same for everyone and this is a really hard position for you to be in between people you love. That's not easy at all."
Her eyes grew round and she looked up at Dorian with no mild degree of concern when he asked about Michelle and Tabitha changing their minds. She was pretty sure Tabitha had covered sexuality to some extent in her lesson on veelas, but she couldn't remember for sure whether or not Dorian would have been in that class, and she wasn't sure how much of that topic carried over year to year. Also, few students could be expected to really pay detailed attention to something that was arguably less comfortable than taking notes on veelas. Funny in a very not funny way that those two lessons were entwined for Tabitha, both personally and professionally.
"I'm so glad you asked," Mary began. "So, some people like men, women, or people who aren't either. I am only attracted to women," she said, putting a hand on her chest. It felt a bit odd to say out loud, as it wasn't something she usually outlined for people. At the same time, she was happy to be given the opportunity to explain instead of just having assumptions made. "I identify as a lesbian. Some people don't use any terms like that, they just describe it. Professor Hawthorne likes men and women both. Michelle . . ." Michelle had been a mess. As far as Mary knew, Michelle was also a lesbian. It was societal pressures and her own desires for other things that made her 'change her mind'. Right? It would have been nice to have a proper discussion about that rather than just the end of their relationship over something that Mary had thought was a ridiculous reason. She still did, although it had worked out for the best. She also didn't want to detract from the fact that Michelle had, presumably, loved her husband.
"Michelle also liked men and women. Some people maybe lean one way or the other - I think I'm the first woman Tabitha has been with, or one of the first, and Michelle's husband was one of the first men she'd been with - but neither of them changed their minds. And you don't have to be with someone of a specific gender to know whether you like them or not. I don't have to date a man to know I don't want to. It's okay not to be sure," she added, not wanting to talk a seventeen-year-old - or anybody - into locking down their identity for the sake of contrived certainty. "But it's also okay if you are sure." It always amused Mary to think of how many heteronormative homophobes there were out in the world who would be horrified that half the people in the room with Mary and Dorian liked women and half liked men, but not the ones they'd expect. "Does that make sense?"
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Definitely not.
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Dorian Montoir
May 28, 2020 5:30 AM
Okay then by Dorian Montoir
Dorian dimly recalled some of what Professor Brooding(-Hawthorne) was saying from Professor (Brooding-)Hawthorne’s lecture about veela. But he’d been distracted. It had been enough that there was a word for him, never mind all the other things she had said. It had been too much that his two closest friends had called it all stupid and that he hadn’t ever been sure that one of them, the one he had feelings for, was ever going to want to speak to him again. He hadn’t really taken in much that didn’t pertain directly to his own situation.Some people liked both. But you didn’t have to try. But no one changed their mind. It was okay to not be sure.
Except it wasn’t.
“But I do have to be,” he protested. “I… I have to try to explain, and to convince Mama and show her how it really is and… how can I tell her when I might not know?” He could practically already hear Professor Brooding-Hawthorne telling him he was right because he was right and his feelings were real. But that wasn’t enough. “Doing or feeling something does not automatically make it correct,” he pre-empted her. After all, the entire fight was about whether his seventeen year old gut instinct knew what he would want for the rest of his life. Whether it was worth the risks and the sacrifice.
“Did Professor Hawthorne… did she know before she met you?” he asked, feeling like he was straying into very personal territory there, but she’d always said he could ask what he wanted. “I keep saying I won’t change my mind. That I won’t want to marry a girl ever. How do I know if I’m really right?”
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Dorian Montoir
Okay then
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
May 28, 2020 8:44 PM
This is harder than I expected. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Mary could sense Dorian's rising angst and she paused to give him time to recover and herself time to think. "Tabitha and I haven't talked a lot about that," Mary admitted, pondering. "But when we were in the early stages of our relationship, there was no hesitation on her part about dating a woman, so I have to assume she knew before then." She tried to think of better words. Words were harder than usual recently and they seemed to mean more than ever before. "She knew because she found both men and women attractive, and could see herself dating one or . . . uh. Being with one." That wasn't a thing she wanted to get into specifics about if she didn't have to. Baby making was one thing, but fun making was another. "I couldn't see myself with a man and I've never been attracted to one. If you've never been attracted to a girl, there's a good chance you won't be. But as you get older, you may meet someone you are attracted to. Maybe it's not about their gender, but just who you like."She was surprised to hear him ask about marriage that way. People who were in happy relationships with one person didn't generally ask about marriage to another person. She wasn't sure whether it was her place to inquire though, especially considering everything else going on. "You know when you go to bed and you're trying to get comfortable, you just lay however makes the most sense to you, and everyone lays a little different? Maybe you'll try something new and be surprised that it was a good fit for you, but I bet there's a lot of sleeping positions that you know you won't like without having to try them first. It's kind of like that I think. If you like sleeping on your side now, and later you realise you like sleeping on your side or your back, that doesn't mean you were wrong before. It just means that you've found out something new about yourself. That's completely okay and doesn't make it less real that you liked to sleep on your side." She grimaced a little, apologising with an uncomfortable expression before rubbing her forehead with her free hand. "I'm sorry," she said softly, crunching her eyes shut and trying to free the knot of stress that had wrinkled her forehead. "I'm not sure I'm helping much."
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
This is harder than I expected.
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Dorian Montoir
May 28, 2020 9:39 PM
Yup... by Dorian Montoir
Dorian buried his face in his tea whilst Professor Brooding-Hawthorne talked. Especially when she mentioned ‘being with someone.’ He knew there were things beyond the ways he and Jean-Loup had already explored each other. He had never been able to picture doing the things they did together with girls, or if he tried it was uncomfortable rather than sexy. Although he wasn’t going to test that any further whilst sitting in a teacher’s office. If the thought of girls did work on him the way the thought of Jean-Loup did then that was going to be very, very awkward, not to mention the fact that it was just an inappropriate topic to be thinking about when you were trying to talk to someone else.He tried to push the image of his boyfriend, shirt off and pulling Dorian onto his lap very firmly out of his brain. It was ridiculous how the direction to his brain of ‘don’t think inappropriate things’ prompted the response ‘What, like these??’ and several images. Several memories of how lips on skin felt.
You know when you go to bed.
Dorian sputtered slightly on his tea, and was then further embarrassed when that proved not to be what she had meant at all. He wondered what she would be reading into his reaction. Though she had the good grace to carry on and pretend not to notice. To carry on with her talk about sleeping positions.
Dorian tried to digest that. Again, his brain needed to not associate. They were not talking about him and Jean-Loup being in bed so he firmly pushed away the memories of last summer, when Jean-Loup had been able to apparate in and sneak some time to make out with him after dark.
Even if he thought something else later, he would still have thought and felt this way now. That much, he supposed, was true. He was always going to be someone who was deeply attracted to other boys. Even if he had never acted on that with Jean-Loup… He tried to imagine, meeting a girl he liked. What would he have thought then, of his past memories of wanting to kiss boys? Would he have decided they weren’t real or had just been some kind of phase? Was that healthy, or something he wanted to feel about himself? Would he have spent his whole married life worrying about them resurfacing? There were clearly people in the wider world who were perfectly willing to acknowledge different types of attraction and to be with someone else whatever types they felt. He would never have fitted into some perfect society mould without covering up a huge part of who he was, and he didn’t like that idea.
But it also didn’t feel that simple. If someone had a crystal ball and they could tell him that, in two years time, he’d find a girl he could feel that way about… Wouldn’t he have waited? Saved himself the heartache and the fights and just… pushed his other feelings down. Maybe that wasn’t healthy but nor was fighting with his family. Part of why he’d been okay with the idea of dating another boy was the belief that, for him, there wasn’t any other option. There was the raging pulse of teenage hormones and how very much he enjoyed letting his boyfriend break down his boundaries about what non-married people were allowed to get up to, and those argued that he would have given in. However, whilst he was sitting here, sipping tea and discussing it as a theory, it was easy to say he would have evaluated the risks and chosen the sensible option.
“It helps,” he answered, “It just takes so much energy to keep fighting about it,” he sighed. “I… He’s worth it. I want to be with him, and make her see that it isn’t a bad idea. But some of that energy comes from being sure. And… if I can’t be sure, it just feels so much harder. And I feel like I’m having to give all these answers to questions that I don’t even understand. I just… wish there was someone else who understands it properly, who could just sit down and explain it. And maybe I can have another go once she’s got the basics that gay people exist and like… don’t get over it. I’m not asking you to,” he added quickly. The last thing he wanted was knowing that his mother and Professor Brooding-Hawthorne were arguing or talking about him and his relationship. He just felt so out of his depth trying to convince his mother.
“I’m just… like this, right?” he checked one of the other things that had been bugging him, both from an arguments-with-Mama point of view, but also… maybe one of the other people who had given him concerns over the holidays. Happily some of that fit in with the rest of his own worries, and could be disguised as such. “I… nothing and no one can make a person “choose” this. You can give someone the confidence to admit it, or the realisation that they don’t have to fit in the box other people gave them. And there’s probably plenty of people who think that’s a bad thing, but I don’t. But it’s… it’s just that, right? It always just comes from inside who you are?”
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Dorian Montoir
Yup...
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
May 28, 2020 10:04 PM
So..... Uh. Yeah. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Mary smiled warmly, although her heart sort of shattered a bit. "That's right," she told him. "If anyone could have made you the way you are, I think all the people who make it difficult and try to convince you that you are something else would have had more success already." It was a sad, bitter pill to swallow because admitting that people were trying to fix you felt a lot like admitting you needed to be fixed. She took another drink of her drink and concluded that he had really hit the nail on the head with his other comment, so she backtracked to revisit that. "It does take a lot of energy. That gets a lot easier, but there are always people who don't understand. It isn't fair." A memory of the woman who had asked where Zeus' adoptive father was when Mary had shown up with Tabitha came to mind and she firmly pushed it away. Zeus was a good boy and not at all the boy she wanted to be worried about right now."Someone else who understands it properly . . ." She repeated, an idea coming to mind fast. It did register briefly that Dorian seemed quite eager to avoid her addressing the matter with Mrs. Montoir herself, and she thought that that was probably for the best. Having invited Dorian to her wedding undoubtedly made her the corrupter, or perhaps she was just a bit cynical. "There is someone, I think," she told him, focusing on the topic at hand. "I'm sure you know Mr. Row? The guidance counselor? He likes men and women both." He also liked men and women both at the same time, if she understood him correctly, but she would leave explaining polyamory and bisexuality or pansexuality or ?sexuality to him. "He's open about that and we've talked before, so I'm not outing him," she added to clarify, because that was important. Dorian was learning about a new part of himself and probably a very new culture if her experience post-Sonora was anything to go by. As such, he should know about things like how inappropriate it was to out someone else without their permission. "He'd be a really good person to talk to if you wanted another perspective, especially a male one." Mary hid a smile as she pondered briefly what she should get the man for Christmas as a thank you - and a bribe - for helping students in ways that far exceeded his job description. What were adults in schools for if not to help students, though? She smiled warmly, her eyes shining. "You and I are in similar, but opposite boats," she smiled. "Ki-- Mr. Row might have experience that gives him insight into some of your questions. Of course, I'm always happy to talk to you. But I want to acknowledge where there may be other resources for you as well."
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
So..... Uh. Yeah.
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Dorian Montoir
May 29, 2020 3:06 AM
*sigh* by Dorian Montoir
“And if it was a choice, why would I have chosen this?” he sighed. It was complicated, the idea of choice… Had all this been laid out before him, of course, he would have chosen to be like everyone else. But now… now he wasn’t. “I’m not saying I would unchoose it either though,” he added softly. “I know I can’t. But I don’t think I would, even if I could.” It was like being half-Chinese… Canadian society would have accepted them so much more if they were white. Matthieu seemed to try his hardest to emphasise his like-ness with everyone else. To fit in. To be as Canadian as possible. Dorian had never been like that. He couldn’t make himself something he wasn’t, and nor did he want to, if given the choice. He was who he was.He openly stared at her as she explained that Mr. Row - who seemed so… normal, for want of a better word, liked… everything.
“That means telling me he’s… those things?” he clarified when Professor Brooding-Hawthorne used a preposition as a verb. It made sense in context but he wanted to check because it seemed important. “Because for some people, it’s a secret?” He wondered whether she was pointedly pushing that rule forward because she could tell more than he had intended about what he was thinking. Though if she was that able to read his mind, she’d be just as likely to guess who was the issue… He didn’t think he’d been too obvious, and he had no intention of ‘outing’ (he thought it could also be a noun? ‘We are going on an outing’ - it had come up, he was sure, in a book he had read, and turned out to be a picnic by a castle or somesuch) Vlad. That was part of what made this so hard. He wasn’t really sure who he could talk to about those things because it felt like Vlad’s private business - much like solving the issues with his own Mama was his problem. There weren’t any reasonable third parties he could bring in without either of their permission.
“I will consider this,” he nodded, regarding the idea of talking to Mr. Row. He had no idea how that conversation would start and not be painful awkward, so he would probably be considering how he wasn’t going to ever, ever do that. “Thank you.
“How often are people like us?” he asked, “Or like Mr. Row and Professor Hawthorne,” he added.
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Dorian Montoir
*sigh*
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
May 31, 2020 3:42 PM
I feel that. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Mary nodded sadly. Now, she wouldn't choose anything else. But back then? She definitely wouldn't have chosen what she was. "I wouldn't either," she smiled, her heart full to bursting as she thought of her great fortune in finding Tabitha."Yes," she smiled, confirming Dorian's understanding of the word 'outing'. In retrospect, she should have thought of teaching him the word, and not just the context for it, but it worked out. "For some people it's a secret to everyone, and for some people it's only a secret for some people. There are some people who are out to their friends but not their family, or their friends and family but not their employer. Unless you know for sure, you don't want to accidentally hurt someone."
Her mouth twisted into something a bit more wry when Dorian said he'd consider it because she absolutely was sure he wouldn't really. "I'd be happy to talk to him," she added. "I know that can be a weird conversation to start. I'd be happy to help. We could get tea, you and me and Killian and Jean-Loup. Or just the three of us. Or just the three of you. Whatever you'd like."
His question was a good one and Mary wasn't sure she had an answer. There were folks she knew about who were part of the LGBTQ+ community because of their gender identity or because of their sexual orientation or both. Some of each category attended Sonora. She took a moment to count. "I've known of I think ten or so folks at Sonora, between staff and students? There are definitely lots more but those are the ones I know of for sure." It was a small number, but for a school the size of Sonora, it was a huge percentage. She smiled playfully. "I like to think that we'll take over the world at some point."
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
I feel that.
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Dorian Montoir
June 11, 2020 6:27 AM
Tea fixes it by Dorian Montoir
Ten. Ten people just here. That felt like quite a lot. He was very tempted to ask ‘who’ amongst the students. Unless literally all the staff were gay or…. semi-gay(? - what was the word for people like Professor [Brooding]-Hawthorne or Mr. Row?) then that probably meant there were more students who were gay than just him. Which, well he knew. That was currently rather high amongst his list of problems… But there were more students who were gay that Professor Brooding-Hawthorne knew about? He wondered if she’d bring Vlad up if she knew about him (but probably not because she didn’t know that Dorian knew) or whether there was someone she knew about other than Vlad. It was… interesting. But also frustrating because he couldn’t ask, because that would be ‘outing.’ He wondered how you dealt with it if you both knew but didn’t know if the other person knew. It wasn’t outing then, but you couldn’t exactly risk saying anything, which sort of sucked.Anyway, that left that as something he had to keep to himself for now. It was encouraging, either way, to know there would be more options out there. Three did not divide evenly into twos, and it had been worrying him, thinking that he essentially had the responsibility of deciding who ended up sad and alone. Vlad could graduate. Meet other people. Get over Dorian. That’d be… good. Right?
He also couldn’t bring that up right now for another reason…
“I think we were talking about you. Originally anyway,” he added. He wasn’t sure how it had got sidetracked onto him so quickly and thoroughly. Admittedly, Professor Brooding had opened up the option for him to ask questions, which had made it more about her playing teacher and him playing student. And it was easy enough to slip back into that because those were their natural roles. “I was supposed to be checking that you are okay?” he added hesitantly. "And you... want to tell me more things about Zeus?"
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Dorian Montoir
Tea fixes it
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
June 11, 2020 6:27 PM
That's what Tabitha keeps saying, too. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Mary waved a hand, smiling a little easier now. "Don't worry about it," she told Dorian. "I'm happy to talk about you instead." It was the first time in her life that she thought it would probably be easier talking to students about their lives, even Dorian, than about her own. But that was just as well because she was probably supposed to return the favor and open up about herself some, now that Dorian wasn't so much a kid. "You're only supposed to do whatever you'd like in this case," she promised him. She had been trying not to say things that suggested it was her role as professor to be the responsible one, both because Dorian was growing up and should be responsible sometimes too, and because she liked to think she wouldn't just be 'professor' to him forever.She took a breath, resigning herself to the fact that this brought them back to the topic of Zeus. He was a sweet boy, even for all the headache he caused. "He's a good one," Mary said softly. She considered Dorian. "I think it would be good for him to get to know you, if you'd like. Not a lot of male role models in the Brooding-Hawthorne household," she laughed. "He's... Well, I'm not sure. We aren't sure whether he'll have any of his veela ancestry show up at all yet, but he's real cute. I think that most kids are probably cute, though. And he's smart. But he's kind. That's the funny thing about Sonora. I was thinking about what House he might be in, but he could be in any of them. Maybe not Crotalus... but it's hard to find ambition or planning in a four-year-old. He's smart and creative, he's adventurous, he's loving and kind. I guess it boils down to the fact that we don't sort of general personality traits here, eh?" She smiled again, remembering her own sorting. "I've told you I was in Teppenpaw, too, right? That was a lifetime ago. Tabitha went to Hogwarts and she was in Gryffindor which makes a lot of sense. It's weird, thinking of her and myself as teenagers . . ."
Mary's mind wandered for a minute and then she shook her head. "So sorry. I'm getting off topic. If you'd like to meet Zeus, we can meet again tomorrow?"
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
That's what Tabitha keeps saying, too.
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Dorian Montoir
June 11, 2020 8:27 PM
Well, have you tried it? by Dorian Montoir
“I’d like to look after you too,” Dorian pointed out, sounding slightly put out at the possibility that this was somehow being questioned or doubted. Luckily that just seemed to be one of those grown up rules disclosures she had to make, like ‘I will keep it a secret provided you or no one else is likely to be directly in harm’s way.’ It seemed to mean ‘yes’ but she just had a bunch of stuff she was legally obliged to say as his teacher. She carried on, anyway, and talked to him about what she was thinking, which was the main point.She sounded happy when she described Zeus. She sounded like she thought he was sweet and wonderful and was proud of him (and none of them meant that she didn’t still feel those things about Dorian too…). That reassured him that, in spite of all the drama and the heartache that had come along with the boy, he seemed to be a good thing. He was going to make Professor Brooding-Hawthorne happy and she could have a nice little family. Her, the other Professor Brooding-Hawthorne and Zeus. Dorian had always been a satellite to that anyway. It had always been him and her, and separately Professor Hawthorne and her. So, something was getting added to that second unit. That didn’t change the Dorian-and-Professor-Brooding-Hawthorne unit. It was fine.
He made a surprised noise when she offered him the position of ‘male role-model.’ On the one hand, it sounded nice. It sounded like he was being invited closer in instead of
“I don’t think I’m very good as an example of how boys are supposed to be,” he reminded her. It was one thing to be fine with who he was, to think there was nothing wrong with him, but the idea of being held up as some kind of example in that way - over that particular element of his identity - brought every memory rushing back of being told he acted like a girl. If Zeus had enough female influence in his life, Dorian was only going to be adding to that. “But I would like to meet him,” he clarified. He didn’t want Professor Brooding-Hawthorne to think he didn’t want to know him, or be around him. He just wasn’t exactly going to be able to teach him how to boy.
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Dorian Montoir
Well, have you tried it?
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
June 11, 2020 9:53 PM
Once or twice. Have you tried hot chocolate with marshmallows? by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Mary knew she shouldn't be angry and, under normal circumstances, she probably wouldn't have been. But she was tired. She did manage to stifle anger and landed on mute surprise and hurt. "Dorian, do you think that you're not enough of a man because you like other men? Or because of who you are? Your personality?" Her eyes stung, which was ridiculous, and she took a breath, steadying herself. She thought of Zeus, growing up to think that. It was easiest, at this point, to hate Mrs. Montoir for all the ways she had inadvertently (Mary would give her that much) hurt her son. But now with Zeus, she had to wonder if she was going to give herself cause for self-loathing someday instead. "Who in the world would be a better role-model for this young boy than a man who is kind, self-assured, loving, delicate, graceful, strong, and brave? Someone who would defend a woman as soon as spend an afternoon in her company, who would dance with his partner in front of a school full of people who could hurt him for it, and who would find the kindness in him to take care of that boy's stand-in mother?"She took another breath and looked down at her hands, thinking of so many years before. "My mother often said I wasn't enough of a girl because I liked potions. Cutting into dead things, scraping things apart, working with my hands, knives, and fire. I ended up burnt or cut and that was fine by me because it was what I love. And if you enjoy painting or reading or any other such thing, that doesn't make you any less of a man. Would you say I'm not a proper woman because of my interests? Or Tabitha? She'd hex your face off I think. Not you specifically, but in general. Zeus has plenty of exposure to both masculine and feminine traits and interests. I'm not seeking that. He needs to see that a man can do any of those things, just like either of his two new mothers. Whoever he grows up to be, whatever his interests, whatever his personality, shy of coming out as trans, he will be exactly the man he is meant to be. Just like you have done."
Mary cocked her head, wondering at Dorian's expression. He seemed . . . not withdrawn. But somehow more within himself than usual. "I don't know if I've told you this before, or told you enough, but I love you to pieces, you know. That's not going to change."
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Once or twice. Have you tried hot chocolate with marshmallows?
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Dorian Montoir
July 12, 2020 3:11 AM
Yes, it is also good by Dorian Montoir
Why did he think he wasn't enough of a man? Firstly, because he was seventeen and still felt utterly clueless. The concept of being an adult was weird. But why didn't think he was a good male role model, whether man or boy... Years of being told he was failing at it by his brother. He may have decided that Matthieu was trash, that his opinions were trash, and that he, Dorian, was perfectly fine as a person but that was very different to viewing himself as good as a boy or a man or any other strongly masculine label. From the options Professor Brooding had given him - whether it was because he liked other boys or because of his personality - he supposed he would have to pick the latter. Jean-Loup liked other boys but still seemed perfectly capable of behaving like one. Of course, as far as role-modelling went, he didn't exactly have a clean slate... Or Parker. Parker liked boyish things without being problematic about it, the way Mattieu was.He thought about just brushing it all off. They were rapidly veering away from Professor Brooding-Hawthorne and her life back into all his issues. Was he really such a mess that he couldn't stop being the subject of the conversation for more than a minute? But she sounded upset.
"I would never say bad things about you," he assured her. He thought that she probably knew that, and that she was just using that fact to make a point, but he didn't want there to be any room for doubt on that front. Especially as there was a minor threat of her wife hexing his face off. He was fairly sure that was hyperbole but he also did not want to put it to the test or have anyone be angry with him, both because anger was in itself not nice but also because it could physically hurt.
And as she clarified, it sounded less and less like she needed him to be anything except himself. He wasn't sure why she couldn't have just said that without bringing maleness into it at all.
"You want me to be... a good person, who happens to be.... a boy," he suggested hesitantly, "Not... someone who is good at being that- being everyone's idea of that. I think I am a good person," he clarified, "I like me. I am happy to be an example of those things." There was nothing wrong with any individual part of Dorian but when you put all of those together and put the label 'male role model' on it, he just couldn't help but feel it wouldn't stand up to scrutiny. "Just... we can say that instead?" he checked. He wanted to be an example of a person more than he wanted to be an example of a boy. It was just easier.
"I love you too," he smiled. And that should have been the hardest, weirdest part of the conversation because she was his teacher and you didn't normally say that to teachers. But it was easy, because it was true. He snuggled in against her shoulder, somewhat looking forward to meeting Zeus the next day, but happy to have a little bit of time with her to himself for now.
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Dorian Montoir
Yes, it is also good
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