#i truly wasn't aware that it was still considered a slur

[buckleydiazes]

Hello fellow bylers, I saw some tags on a Stranger Things post by @biigiiiii making conjecture about being gay in the 80s and I thought, well my dad was a gay teen in the 80s, let me ask him! And it was originally intended to just be sent via messages but then I figured it would be easier to structure as a text post and idk maybe someone else would be interested in hearing his thoughts. All of this is his own personal experience, obviously that is not universal. Hopefully someone finds this interesting or enlightening in some way though.

Gays at Large

What was the general feeling toward LGBTQ people in the 80s?

Homophobia was bad enough that people did not give a second thought to it or how damaging what they were saying was. Between the AIDS epidemic and Raegan administration, homophobia was extremely commonplace and pretty ingrained in Western culture. It was generally more prominent in rural areas than cities — that much has not changed.

The Q Word

How does he feel about the word queer and has his feelings changed at all over the years?

Well, despite rampant homophobia, there had also been a lot of pushing for LGBT advocacy in recent years. The Stonewall Rebellion happened in 1969, which had a significant effect on American society. A year later, in 1970, were the first gay pride marches. For my dad, queer was a word that had already been reclaimed by many, and so therefore meant little to him. In his words, "I'm a queer? A [f slur]? Tell me something I don't know. What, are you going to call me a [hispanic slur] next? 🙄"

Knowing vs Awareness

Was he aware he was gay as a teen? No but yes. As with many who are considered different by society's strandards, there is always an undercurrent of Knowing that you are different. You understand, on some deep level, that you are not fitting the mold that you should be. But that doesn't mean you actively aware and thinking about it. In fact, a lot of people do their best to not think about it and pretend to be "normal."

In my dad's case, he knew he was different, but he didn't "have time" to think about it that much. There was other things going on in his life that made it easier to put thoughts of his sexuality on the back burner. And yet, despite this suppression, he still was keenly aware of other people's attitudes toward LGBTQ folk, which became a sort of sixth sense.

Hypervigilance is Exhausting

As a survival instinct, my dad was always on the look out for who was "safe" and who wasn't. My dad was not a particular flamboyant person and he was into more "masculine" interests (his career is in HVAC, plumbing, and electric, and his hobbies involve listening to the news and playing the guitar); this made it easier for him to fit in, but he still could not ever truly let his guard down. This became so ingrained that he sometimes wonders if his personality would have ended up different had he been allowed to be himself without fear. Fear is a powerful tool in shaping a young mind, after all. And it's also so very wearying. Eventually, he got to a poijt in his life where he decided to hell with what everyone else thinks and feels and he would be himself shamelessly because there's not enough years in a life to be constantly forcing yourself into a socially acceptable boxm

The Curse of Internalized Homophobia

But...what about internalized homophobia? Yeah, unfortunately, he very much experienced it. And, even more unfortunately, it found its way into his speech, throwing around some homophobic slurs of his own before he came out of the closet. According to him, he has known many a gay man who shared in homophobic language during their closeted/repressed years. I don't think I need to tell anyone how terrible it is the way society can coerce you into being part of your own groups oppression.

Birds of a Feather

Did he know any other gay people though? Again, no but yes. You might have noticed or heard about the concept of gay people flocking together before any of them even know/accept that they're gay. His case is another one for the books. There were definitely a few people he knew were closeted, though he never approached them with the topic, but it wasn't for many years later that he would find out how many people around him were LGBTQ in one way or another.

Funnily enough, he married my mom out of high school, and as it turns out, she's bi and trans. (Trans man, she/her, very complicated history with gender. Also they are divorced but still best friends.)

Stolen Youth and New Hope

So, what is the overall feeling of having been a closeted gay teen in the 80s? Well, like something precious was kept from you. Those experiences that cishet folk got to have, you didn't. So many of the formative experiences many have in their adolescence were not viable for LGBTQ folks—from openly having a partner to just being and presenting how you wanted to. And, like I mentioned before, he was left with a persistent wondering about who he would have been had the world been a better place. (This isn't even something unique to his time either, many LGBTQ folks of all ages feel like this!)

That said, he is still so glad to see the positive changes in the world. He watches things like Heartstopper and is happy that, at the least, he got to live long enough to see that sort of representation on TV. And I think that's lovely. (As a personal aside: fuck you @ everyone who bitched about Heartstopper being "too sanitized", gay people deserve all types of representation on TV. If you don't like a certain kind, move on to something else and let those that do like it enjoy themselves.)

So, yeah, there's all the stuff I talked to my dad about. If you have any further questions for/about him (or my mom perhaps), feel free to shoot me a message!

[pandoraimperatrix]

Wandering Worlds

DickKory | Core Four Centric | Cannon Divergence | Longfic

Summary:

The story begins with the death of Dick Grayson. His life taken by his own brother, Jason. Consumed by grief, Rachel gives in to despair, losing control, a portal opens, but from it no destroyer of words come through. Instead a man who looks just like him, how can he be? The Titans, and especially Kory has to mourn their fallen leader and deal with this stranger with a lot of issues of his own. After that, when everything seem to be settling, Kory is forced to return to Tamaran, but she wasn't as alone in her destiny as she thought, neither her family of choice was willing to let her go that easily. But politics in Tamaran can be as complicated as travelling across universes.

————————————–

Part Four – Voyagers

Chapter Twenty-eight – What makes this fragile world go 'round?

As Kory let Xoyan’g lead her and Dick to the stables, as shouldn’t be anyone there at this hour, she felt like she was jiggling multiple plates and balls with both of her arms broken. Calming down Karras and trying to explain to him that there was no master plan (although, there was one, but it didn’t not involve Dick coming after her), to make him believe her, had sucked up all her political stamina, when playing the perfect princess at their engagement ceremony had already sucked her dry. Kory was very uncertain if he had believed her truly or just lied to her just like he was accusing her of lying to him.

“This is just like Okaara,” he sneered as soon as Dick disappeared thought the herbarium doors taking the better part of Kory’s heart and sanity with him. “I thought with Faddei gone you would remember your duties, and maybe find space in your heart for me, for us, but I was wrong.”

“Karras, this has nothing to do with Faddei.”

“No... You are right. It was never Faddei. Never was. If him,” he pointed to the door, “if this torq proves anything,” he spat the slur for outsiders and Kory bit the insides of her cheeks to not attack him. And maybe that was her mistake, because if she still were the person that used to run through the Okaara Palace’s walls with him, she would “is that I have never even had a chance.”

“Karras,” she tried, his name rolling through her tongue like rocks, she didn’t have time for this “listen to me-”

“Why should I, Koria?” And at that moment he looked so honest, so sad, she wanted to pity him and some part of her did, but she just couldn’t afford to spare the feelings he now claimed to belong rightfully to him as if Kory’s heart was like the crown, and Karras Faddei’s natural successor.

For Kory knew Karras loved her, and she had loved him too, all her life. But they were never in love, they never been in the position of being in love. A Royal Marriage was about a lot of things. But not about that kind of love.

They were promised to each other of course, grown together, and had a bond that couldn’t be broken easily, that had survived over distance, time, politics, the loss of Faddei, of their childhoods and the world they once knew. Still, Kory had never considered that he had been in love with her in the past. Or believed that all he had to do was wait and one day she would love him like that. She thought they were on the same page, but she was wrong.

She was wrong about a lot of things lately.

Read on AO3

“It’s never going to be me, won’t it?”

“I will marry you,” she promised again but the words fell flat.

He gave her a sad smile.

“Not if you can find a way out.”

Kory sighed.

“What you want me to say? I’m not going to lie to you, I respect you far too much.”

“Respect...” He hummed considering, “If that’s all you can offer me, I’ll take it, but Koria, be careful, you know how much I  care about you, but between you and the whole of Tamaran, I know my duty.”

Kory took a relieved breath although she was aware she had just heard a veiled threat.

“I don’t expect anything less from you.”

And when he had finally left her alone, saying that he too needed to think, Kory had to hold herself together, her entire body shaking. Why couldn’t things jut settle down for a moment? She felt a million years old.

She dragged herself out of herbarium, her whole body and soul screaming for her to run upstairs and hold her baby. She should be awake. Kory was relying on a loyal servant to take care of her, but...

A servant from Karras, since her entire court was in Tamarus pretending that Kom still had the crown.

Xha’l... What if he... He wouldn’t. And Dick... Dick needed to know about their baby. What would he say? He’d hate her when he found out that not only she had given up on the live they had together, their Rachel and Gar, their Team, and had stolen from him the birth of his child.

He should do just that. He should hate Kory. He should hate her and take their baby and run far away.

But how was even possible that he was really there? How could a miracle happen twice? And what had been the cost this time? Rachel once told her that the other universe, where he had come from, had do die for her to break him through. Not only Planet Earth. A whole universe had to die so they could meet.

Kory knew that and still she left. She left because that was her destiny and that was her duty. But now her soul cowered just with the notion of that the child she loved no less than the one that grew inside of her had to sacrifice to get him to Tamaran, to Kory.

And where were she? Where was Gar? For the past year she forbid her heart from asking those questions but now they were banging on her brain’s door with the urgency of a thousand battalions. The urgency of a concerned mother.

At the end, her legs took her to where he said he would be, and all the truths locked inside her throat were about to spill when her father’s best friend interrupted and then took them to the stables.

“Tejang, I don’t think this place is safe.” Kory winced at how eerie was seeing Dick talk to a man she knew all her life, it was like two realities, nothing alike, colliding, and somehow making sense.

“It’s the better we can make now, Ajik.”

“Then we should speak English,” said Kory in more parts than she could admit due to the queasy feelings that seeing him speaking Tamaranean caused in her.

“No,” breathed Dick “something else, the men know English.”

Dick just fit in that structure, as a warrior, as a second in command, as the ward of a powerful Knight.

A shiver ran through Kory’s spine, and not for the first time she felt like fate was punishing her for taking the wrong path even though he had given up everything she loved to go back to the right one.

“Why would teach them that?” She asked upset at how easily he gave away the walls between the two worlds, how he didn’t seem to care to separate Earth and Tamaran. He didn’t understand.

“Why would you leave us?”

She stared at him, words choking her.

He could never understand.

Lip trembling, Kory rose her head to the General.

“Loquerisne latine?”

“Loquor.”

She saw Dick’s eyebrows rise, evidently surprised that from all languages, Latin was common between the three of them.

“You Majesty,” began Xoyan’g in latin, “I know this man as a fellow warrior, I found him with no memory of who he was almost a year ago, before even I received the good news of your return. He has been a loyal soldier, and an unreplaceable asset to the Resistance. We’ve come to learn his real name and parts of his history recently, after he had already become Ajik to us. After he was already my brother and saved my life in battle countless of times. But I understand now that to you he is someone else.”

“I never meant to lie to you, Tejang,” Dick said, his tone a little desperate, it awfully reminded Kory the way he sounded while talking to Bruce, “Never. If I concealed my relationship to the Princess was because I had no way to prove, and to protect her.”

But Xoyan’g was no Bruce Wayne, and he unleashed his sword, pointing it to Dick.

“I ask you, then, my lady, what is this? Who is this man that I had been committing treason without knowing by harbouring?”

“Tejang!” Dick cried again, and Kory put herself between him and the point of Xoyan’g’s sword.

“He is Niwak’li.”

The word she said, in Tamaranean, meant, “the one with royal blood blossomed life with”, and it was clear from Xoyan’g’s expression and Dick’s silence that only one of them knew what it meant.

Xoyan’g lowered his sword, Kory could basically see the wheels turning in his head. She was the Rightful Queen, but she also had spoiled the bloodline and betrayed their strongest allies. She could end any chance of ever winning that war and uniting Tamaran again.

“Does Prince Karras know?”

“Yes,” Kory assured him.

“What are you talking about?” Asked Dick, pulling Kory’s wrist and trying to make her look at him. “What did you call me?”

“Unhand the Princess!”

Kory ignored the outrage on the General’s face, and made to move to free herself from Dick.

“I’m trusting you to keep this a secret, my lord.”

“My lady, I don’t understand.”

“I don’t blame you. Yet, it is paramount that you keep this a secret, our victory depends on it. Are you loyal to Tamaran, General?”

“With the entirety of the life-force that shall join X'hal’s when the glorious time comes.”

“Then don’t betray me, even if right now it looks like I’m a traitor.”

“I’d never have such thoughts, my lady.”

Kory bit back the answer she wanted to give, that if that was the case, after everything that Tamaran had been though and was currently going through, he still had that sort of blind faith in a member of the Royal Family, he was a fool.

“This is a secret not even the Niwak’li knows, General. Protect it with your life.”

“Would you please tell me what this word means?”

Dick pulled Kory one more time and she turned back to him right in time to see Karras’ personal guards bust in and take Dick down with a starbolt.

----------

Look, this chapter is not very good, but I'm tired of suffering over it, maybe the next one will be better, maybe it won't. It is what it is. Engaging with me and the fic always helps tho.

[just-an-enby-lemon]

okay no pressure at all but oh my god PLEASE tell me abt your riddler lore I'm literally all ears

Okay. I have a lot of things and also not at all. So I will give some details and maybe elaborate it later.

- He was born in Gotham but raised in Metropolis. He HATES Metropolis. He isn't the biggest Gotham fan either, but he really really dislikes Metropolis.

- He made a promisse to never again change for the sake of other people at age twenty and that it's the more important thing in his rather flimsy moral code.

- The only time he cheated in a puzzle was when he was ten in school on a context for all Metropolis students were the winner would get to meet Lex Luthor. His dad and a lot of his teachers knew he had cheated but coudn't prove. That made they believe he always cheated and that he wasn't truly a genius.

- While Lex used to be his childhood hero, adult Edward HATES Luthor.

- He changed his name at age sixteen and moved back to Gotham. He never went to college. School had made him hate formal academia.

- Sometimes he repeats sentences, always to a prime number, mostly three times, because of his OCD.

- He goes to Oswald private room a lot during his visits to the Iceberg because he has sensorial inssues or because the number of guests, drinks or the position of the tabbles was annoying him. He used to just change the position and/or expulse guests and later to complain to Oswald but that was the better solution. If Oswald wasn't his friend he would have been permanently banned.

- He rarely kills. He only does it if he is sure the person has absolutly no future potential or if they are triggering one of his compulsive episodes. A normal Riddler will not kill you, but if you are in his way to leaving a puzzle or figuring an answer he is obcessed with than he will not think twice.

- Has difficulty understanding other people emotions. He can read their motives like data but the emotion behind it? Absolutly not. He accidentaly angers people a lot because he is unnable to realize he is doing it.

- Treats his henchpeople pretty well, he had his intelectual property stolen by cooporations before becoming the Riddler and he was a working class kid, he knows the importance of unions and workers rights. Also most of his henchpeople could beat him up pretty badly so better not to risk.

- Query and Ecco are less employers and more friends. Contrary to popular belief he never slept with them (except sleep in the sofa during movie night) and never wanted to. They are friends and the girls date.

- Hates cops. Really hates cops.

- He and Ivvy are the most political aware Rogues. Unfortunally they hate each other. Particulary because on their first meeting Edward kept teeling plant facts to Ivvy and Pamela considered it pretty condesceding after all she has a doctorate in botanical biology, she doesn't need a man teling her things about her expert area as if she will be shocked by it. They still have to interact to each other a lot because Edward is friends with Harley and Selina. Later Pam and Eddie become friends over having to help Batman rescue Selina from Joker but it takes a looong time.

- It's the pettiest man alive. Will throw tantrums over the smallest things.

- Expensive clothes. Expensive tastes. Cares a LOT about his aparence. Was called a dandy multiple times by multiple people including Amanda Waller, Scarecrow and Green Arrow. This people in particular also called him fruity at least once. He has no idea if they meant as an observation or a slur (exept Waller, Waller totaly meant it as a slur).

- Started as a villan at age twenty-two.

- Robins use him to help with their homework.

- Black Canary once sended him a questionary in Arkham to help her get ready for the Justice League Quiz Night (Batman had to miss because he had a parent-teacher reunion on Damian school and suddently anyone could be the winner it was great).

- Provided the questions for the Justice League Quiz Night more often than not. He has no idea of this fact.

- Provides the questions for the Iceberg Lounge quiznight. But was forbiden to host it after entering in too much fights over dumb answers.

- Has some small question mark shaped scars and the first 12 numbers of PI shaped scar in his arms because he used to draw it in his skin with a switchblade when having an episode. The only good thing Arkham ever did to him was that he was able to stop doing that and start to just draw then with a green marker instead. He does have a big question mark shapped scar in his chest that he got from police brutality and that he lies it's a tatoo even though it's very obviusly not a tatoo.

- He has a very high pain tolerance but also a very low one. He will take a lot to be taken down but he will scream like a litte girl over it even if it a very small bump.

- He had an adverse reaction to Arkham medication once and had a convulsion and ended up in the enfermary for days. Ever since he hates meds and unless he has no choice will only pretend to take then and spill it out.

- It's the second Batman Rogue with higher rehabilitation chance according to Tim Drake villan list, losing only for Harley (Ivvy does not get second because her rehabilitation is only viable if Harley convinces her, she won't do it by herself, Batman places him as third and Harvey as first but Tim thinks is just Bruce being too hopefull with Harvey, Kiteman isn't on the list because he is not a treat).

- In my AUverse he did help Steph during her early Spoiler days, mostly as a revenge to Cluemaster but also because he thinks of Steph as a niece though he will never admit it.

- Loves to steal art. He keeps some of it. Seels the rest and if he is feeling nice he just sends some back to their country of origin.

- He can draw pretty well and does art comissions under a fake name on Tumbrl/Twitter when bored. He also posts fanart. Mostly Batman. But also some fandom fannart. His fanart were a great adition to the Gravity Falls fandom for one. That being said if you don't credit the fannart he will send an impossible virus to your PC.

- Security companies are forbiddem to tell they are imprenatrable in Gotham because both Riddler and Catwoman see that as a personal challenge.

- He sold state secrets. He also just divulgued state secrets online. He has some state secrets hiden that he just never felt like telling anyone becauee what it's the point of a secret if everyone knows it.

- Has compromising information about EVERYONE but he won't divulgue it unprovoked. He hates to have to stop the fun of being the only one to know but his pettiness speaks louder.

- Knows most heros secret identities including all the batfamily he just can't tell them because what would be the point? Different of Hush Riddler he never really did anything with it besides teasing.

- The only time he used his knowledge of heros identities was when he needed to go to an high society party to figure the answer to a puzzle (and meet a famous artist he was a huge fan of) and he sended an e-mail convincing Oliver Queen that if he wasn't his plus one he would spoil his secret identity with proof. He choose Oliver because Bruce was hard to threaten and he would porbably just be beaten by Batman or worse Bruce would take him and purposifully make soo he coudn't met the guy.

- Actually needs his cane for mobility because of a childhood injury (ironicaly not caused by his dad).

- Is a great swordsman. Also uses his cane for it.

Yeah. I think that is it. If you have some specific question about him or about my versions of the rogues feel free to ask. And thank you for the question it was fun.

[ad1thi]

hey, I’m not trying to me mean but seeing as you’re cishet I don’t think the way you talked about queer-coding in the half of it was really okay and tbh, it seems like you don’t really know what queer-coding actually is. Also, this is maybe a more controversial opinion but don’t call Fabiola queer, there are still a lot of LGBT people who consider queer a slur and aren’t comfortable w/ straight people calling them it and seeing as she’s unambiguously a lesbian, just call her gay/a lesbian!

okay im gonna address this in parts because im going to work under the assumption that this came from a good place

1. i identify as cishet because i haven’t figured out my sexuality and i don’t think its right for me to say i am anything else unless im sure. however, a cursory glance at my blog will tell you that im bicurious and im just hesitant to label my sexuality because i don’t want anybody to take my journey with my own sexuality and then call me out for queer-baiting. that being said, my sexuality is nobody’s business but my own and labels change over time.

2. i explained in the tags under the specific reblog where i called Fabiola queer that i was using queer because at that point in the show, her sexuality hadn’t been definitively labelled. at that particular point in the show, she was still pursuing a relationship with Alex Young and i didn’t know whether her character was going to be lesbian/gay or bi/pan, 

3. as far as i understand it, queer is an umbrella term that applies to anybody that isn’t heterosexual. i don’t mean to assume anything on behalf of the lgbtq+ community, and i apologise if i did offend anybody by calling her queer, but as i explained in both that post and in this answer - i didn’t know which direction the show was going to take and at that point, i didn’t want to assume that she was going to give herself a label

4. when i said that Fabiola was queer-coded, it was a critique on the way the show was playing into stereotypes. something ive personally never seen represented on media is femme lesbians, and lgbtq+ women are generally seen as liking more “masculine” things, like for example - the fact that Fabiola’s wardrobe consists of men’s clothes. there isn’t anything wrong with this, i just think that its a bit on the nose for some of the stereotypes, and they could’ve chosen another route. 

5. i never meant to take away from the fact that she’s canonically gay. but in episode 3, she was still going to go on that date with Alex Young, and at that point in the show she hadn’t expressed a lack of attraction to men. that was the only thing i was trying to be respectful of

//

i apologise if me using the term queer offended you in any way, but literally all you had to do was look at the tags where ive specifically explained why i was using the word queer. its right there in the tags. 

[to-be-a-dreamer]

"i don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you" for a fic title (i'm regretting this already)

Rae, what was that you were saying about me writing too much angst? I can’t remember. Anywho:

CW: child abuse, blood, mention of homophobic slurs

We're gonna do a Ralbert one, spice things up a bit (for me anyways)

I'm thinking a high school AU in which Race and Albert have been dating for a little over six months, but they're keeping it a secret because Al isn't out yet. Race has been out and proud since freshman year, but Albert's afraid of what his father would say/do.

So they don't tell anyone, not even their closest friends or Race's brothers. Gossip spreads fast in their little town and they don't want to risk it. Besides, they've been best friends since they were little, so the fact that they're so affectionate with each other isn't suspicious. (At least they think so. Race's brothers, Charlie and Jack, are very well aware)

While they're at school, out with their friends, or around any other person, they pretend they're just friends. Their relationship is made up of quick glances that hold a thousand words, touches that linger just a tad too long to be considered friendly, and stolen kisses from within every hidden alcove they can find.

The only place they can truly act like boyfriends is Race's bedroom (they don't do anything like that they just cuddle and kiss and talk all lovey-dovey in the ways they can't when they're in public)

And that's good enough for Albert. Sure, he'd love to be able to be with Race publicly, but he's happy just knowing that Race belongs to him, and he belongs to Race.

Loving Race in private already makes him feel like the luckiest person on the planet, he doesn't need anything more.

(It's not enough for Race, but Albert doesn't know that.)

So anyways, one day they're hanging out at Albert's house, not doing anything coupley at all. They are quite literally just existing but, at some point, Albert's dad calls Race the f-slur.

And Albert just goes off on his dad cause even if he's not out, even if he were actually straight, he would never let someone get away with talking to Race like that.

The argument quickly escalates into an all-out yelling match between the two of them and Albert is so mad he can't even care enough to worry about how angry his dad looks. Mostly because his dad has never hit him in front of another person before, but it starts to feel like a "first time for everything" kind of situation.

So he just grabs Race's hand and leaves, still yelling over his shoulder as the door slams in his face. He left his car keys inside so they decide to walk to the Larkin house. It's not that far, Albert used to walk there all the time before he got his license.

Albert is still very mad at his father so he rants the entire walk, apologizes for his dad's behavior, and then rants some more. He drops Race's hand as they pass by the busy corner store he knows their friends like to go to. Race wraps his arms tightly around himself so Albert doesn't try to take his hand again, even when they're in the clear.

It takes nearly the entire walk for Albert to calm down enough to realize Race hasn't said a word the entire time. Which is enough to make him stop instantly and force all the anger out of his voice.

"Hey, hey look at me. I'm sorry for yelling so much. Are you okay? We're almost home and then we can watch a movie or some-" "I can't do this anymore"

At first, Albert thinks Race is just upset about what happened, which he has a right to be, so he tries to apologize for his dad again but Race cuts him off.

He's done, he's done sneaking around, he's done lying to his family, he's done pretending they're just friends. Race doesn't want to keep hiding, he wants to love Albert publicly but he can't, and that kills him. And as he keeps talking, Albert can tell that this has been coming on for a while, it wasn't just what his dad said.

Al tries to talk him out of it, of course. He promises that they can do more, that they can be more open. They can hold hands at school, they can go out on dates where no one knows them, maybe they can even tell their friends! But Race says no. He won't let Albert put himself in danger like that.

"You heard what your dad was sayin', and that was just about me! Imagine what he'd do if he knew, Al, you can't just... If we keep doing this, he's gonna find out, you know he will, and I'm not gonna be the reason you get hurt, you hear me? If keepin' you safe means we can't be together then t-that's an easy decision for me."

And so that's that. They go into Race's house and try to pretend everything's fine in front of Jack and Charlie. (Albert tried to go back home but Race wouldn't let him, not with how furious his father had looked when they left.)

Everyone notices that something's wrong. Race's brothers, all their friends, even the teachers. But neither of them can tell the truth, so all they did was trade one secret for another. Except now they don't have each other to lean on.

Race is coping (barely). It hurts, a lot, but he's been considering a break-up for nearly a month at this point; hearing all of the awful things Albert's father said just gave him the final push he needed. He loves Albert, but he's not going to let him get hurt by being in a relationship with Race. He would never be able to forgive himself. That's the only thing keeping him from calling Albert at two in the morning when he misses him so much he can barely breathe.

Albert is decidedly not coping. He and Race had only been dating for about six months, but he couldn't remember a time in his life when they weren't best friends. They'd been attached at the hip since they met, and he's never not been able to talk to Race about anything and everything. So it's not just the fact that he lost Race as a boyfriend, he also lost Race as a friend, and that's the part that hurts the most

So he breaks. He's eating dinner with his dad and his older brothers, barely even listening to the conversation, when he hears that word again. They're throwing it around like it means nothing, laughing like it's some joke. And all Albert can think about is how he wants to call Race and talk about how awful he feels having to listen to his own family say such horrible things. How he wants nothing more than to call them out and teach them better. How he knows he can't because they'd never listen to him. And Race would tell him it's not his fault that they're stuck in their prejudice and it's not his responsibility to teach them to be better. He'd say that keeping himself safe is more important than trying to change the minds of people who don't want to change.

Albert just wants to talk to his best friend.

But he can't, and even if he did, the problem he wants to talk about is the exact reason Race broke up with him in the first place and he knows Race is probably right but he just misses him so much and his family won't stop saying that word.

He didn't even mean to say it, it just slips out before he can stop himself. He can barely even believe he'd actually done it but the conversation goes dead silent and when he looks up there are three pairs of eyes staring him down. His brothers look like a couple of deer caught in headlights, but his father is absolutely thunderous.

His brothers laugh awkwardly and try to divert the conversation, but Albert just lifts his chin and looks his father dead in the eye. It's done now. If he's going down he's going down with his head held high

His father doesn't yell, which is a surprise. Albert had thought he'd scream for at least a few minutes before he threw the first punch. But his father starts hitting first and then adds the shouting. Albert's not really paying attention to what he's saying, but he can make a pretty good guess.

He gets away, somehow. He thinks one of his brothers managed to get their father off of him long enough for the other to pull him to his feet and shove him out the door. He yells at Al to run and then the door slams shut.

Albert can hear more shouting and something breaking, probably a plate getting thrown at a wall (he hopes it's a wall). He takes the advice and runs. He's not even paying attention to where he's going but he isn't surprised when he ends up turning onto Race's street. He doesn't slow down until he can see the house that feels more like a home than his own. Some of the adrenaline wears off and he starts to feel the damage his father did.

It's still fairly early in the evening, but Albert doesn't want to knock on the front door if he looks half as bad as he feels. He goes to Race's window and knocks on it four times, the signal they came up with in middle school.

Race almost doesn't answer. He thinks he knows what Albert wants and it's not a conversation he wants to have again. But the second he gets a glimpse of Al's face he throws the window open instantly and pulls him inside. He doesn't even ask what happened, he already knows. Race calls out for Medda immediately and is met with several protests.

"Come on, she's gonna freak out, don't-" "I'm freaking out, Al, at least Ma knows how to hide it."

And she does. She gets Albert patched up without letting the kind, concerned expression fall for even a second, despite the rage bubbling beneath the surface. She's going to be having a very long conversation with Mr. DaSilva in the morning. She decides they don't need to go to the ER right now, but they might later if he starts showing signs of a concussion. By some miracle, nothing's broken so she just cleans the blood off Albert's face, puts a bandage over the cut on his temple, and gives him an ice pack for his headache.

Once she leaves to find some pain medicine, Race turns to Albert and gives him a look. And Albert has to explain what happened, what his family was saying, how angry and alone he felt, how much he just wanted to call Race and talk like they used to. And then...

"I didn't even mean to say it, honest! I know you're gonna be mad but I swear it just slipped out!" "Al. What did you do?" "I-I told him that I'm gay."

And Race is torn between being angry (because this is exactly what he told Albert not to do), proud (because Race had a hard enough time coming out to his own family and had known they would be supportive), and sympathetic (because even though they both knew how his father would react, Race knew it had to hurt, opening yourself up like that to someone who was supposed to love you unconditionally and getting it thrown back in your face)

He wants to yell, he wants to be angry, but Albert just looks so heartbroken and... almost... uncomfortable? Like he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be here, in this house that was the first place either of them had ever felt truly safe. And Race just can't bring himself to be mad (and yeah, he missed Albert too)

So while Albert waits for the inevitable lecture, Race leans forward and pulls his best friend into a hug. Just holds him close and rubs his back and mutters encouragement in his ear and lets Albert cry.

Things aren't all better now. Race still doesn't want to be in a relationship if they have to keep it a secret, his heart couldn't take another second of that. Albert doesn't know when or if he'll ever go back to his own house, or what might be waiting there for him when he does. They need to talk. About a lot of things. About everything. But they have each other back now, and they're never going to let go, no matter what comes next.

And when Medda comes back with the medicine (okay maybe she took a little bit longer than necessary), she just smiles and leaves the bottle next to the two boys who had fallen asleep in each other's arms.

[messiambrandybuck]

Comfort

Word Count : 1,175

Pairing : The Hobbits x Male Human Reader (platonic)

Warnings : Coping with Death

Author's Note : This is set in the scenario that The Fellowship stayed together after Boromir's death. Please feel free to let me know if any other warnings are needed; requested by Anon.

This is probably going to be shite, as it's definitely not my best work; but I do hope you enjoy it lol.

A small shuffle of cloth sounds behind (Y/n) as he keeps watch, and he turns around to see two sleepy little Hobbits wrapped up in blankets, hair messier than usual.

"What're you doing up, Frodo? Sam?" (Y/n) says softly, noticing the way their eyes drooped with exhaustion.

"Can't sleep," Frodo mumbles, "can we stay with you?"

"You're very comfortable," Sam agrees, slurring slightly.

"Of course, come here."

Frodo pulls his blanket tighter around himself as they curl up under the younger's arms, against the warmth of his sides. He runs his fingers through their soft curls, and Sam lets out a content sigh as they both visibly relax. (Y/n) can't help but smile to himself at this, finding peace in their content; but as they fall asleep, it fades into a darker feeling that he was all too aware of during the night.

These Hobbits, they were too young to be in such constant danger. Frodo was the only one among them significantly past the age where they were considered adults, Sam and Merry only a few short years past that mark. And Pippin, the poor lad, hadn't even reached that age yet; he wouldn't for a good few years.

Yet here they were, a group of young boys thrown in the chaos of what would undoubtedly become a war. Day after day, forced to fight and live with horrors that no one should have to face. He promised them that he would keep them safe, in one of the first nights after departure, but sometimes he wondered: could he keep that promise? With such evils searching for them day and night, he felt his confidence deteriorate whenever the company paid him no attention. His body ached with healing wounds originally meant for the Hobbits, and his heart broke at the thought that one day he might not be able to get to them in time.

Frodo shifts in his sleep with the start of a nightmare, and (Y/n) quietly hushes him, gently stroking his cheek until he stills. Instinctively, Sam reached out for the older in his sleep; the need to protect Frodo inscribed deep into his subconscious. With reassuring whispers, (Y/n) guided the young Hobbit back into his peaceful sleep. There was no need for him to worry.

Since the start of this quest, he had become very close to these Hobbits, each of them holding a very special place in his heart. They managed to make everyone in the company smile with their bright nature, despite everything happening, and he admired them deeply for it. However, he wasn't ignorant; he knew it was taking its toll on them. He saw it every day.

He saw it in the way Merry didn't attempt to pull pranks anymore. The way Pippin would stare off into space for vast amounts of time, his eyes blank and void of light. He saw it in the way poor Samwise put too much responsibility on his shoulders. He saw it every time Frodo touched the ring without even realizing.

He tried his best to keep their spirits up; surprising them with special meals if he managed to scavenge enough, playing with them, even singing them to sleep if they requested so. (Y/n) liked to imagine it helped, but he didn't truly believe so.

"Bor... Boromir!"

Looking back at the camp, he saw Pippin tossing around, Boromir's name slipping past his lips so painfully that his sorrow was almost tangible.

Carefully moving Frodo and Sam so they lay on the ground as comfortably as possible, (Y/n) quickly made his way to the youngest's side, combing his fingers through the Hobbit's golden curls. His breathing was rapid now, forehead slick with sweat, and his face contorted in an expression of terrible pain and fear.

"Boromir!"

Softly hushing the young Hobbit, (Y/n) carefully pulls him into his embrace. "It's okay, Pippin, it's okay. It's over now, they can't get you."

Tears slip through his shut eyes, "Save- Save him! Save him! Boromir no!"

"It's all over now," (Y/n) says helplessly, his own eyes pooling with tears as his heart broke. Ever since Boromir died, it was all the hobbit ever dreamed about; one night he'd be begging to be rescued, the next he'd cry out for their fallen friend.

A whimper makes its way out of the blond's throat, and the man continued to whisper small reassurances to him, rocking them both slightly as he held Pippin close. The younger held onto his shirt as if letting go would mean the end of him, sobs violently tearing through his body. (Y/n) couldn't tell how long Pippin cried, for it felt like hours to him, but eventually, he grew too exhausted to make another noise. He fell asleep, mentally and physically exhausted from the force of his sorrow.

After putting the youngest back under his covers, (Y/n) walks to the edge of camp to resume his watch, away from the others. Resting against the trunk of a large tree, he took a deep breath, trying to force back his tears. He held back on grieving this long, if he started now it would surely wake someone up.

Soft steps walk up next to him. "Is Pip going to be okay?"

He looks over to see Merry staring at him with sleepy concern, and looks away in an attempt to hide the few tears that had managed to escape. "Despite common belief, the deepest wound cannot be healed, not even with time. It's always going to hurt, but one day he'll be able to coexist with the pain. We all will."

There was a small moment of silence, "Are you okay?"

"I'll be just fine, Merry," he says, though his voice wavers, "go on back to bed. We're planning on covering a lot of ground in the morning, and you need your rest."

Merry walks around so he was almost in front of the older, and holds his cheek. "You're allowed to be sad, too, (Y/n)." Merry says softly, "You don't have to be strong for us. Let us be strong for you once and a while."

The young Hobbit's words hit somewhere feel inside him, and a wave of silent tears flowed down his cheeks. Leaning against the tree, Merry guides (Y/n)'s head to his shoulder, where the man silently cried. The younger didn't say anything, only carding his fingers through (Y/n)'s hair as he always did with them, and occasionally gave the nape of his neck a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm sorry," the older manages to mumble out, only to be quieted with a small hush.

"Don't be... You have the right to grieve."

(Y/n) never imagined he would allow himself to be this vulnerable around the Hobbits, even if it was just one. He wanted to be the strong one they could count on without hesitation. And yet he needed this. He needed to be able to confide in the ones he cared for, and he felt the bond he had with them grow now that he had taken this next step.

[goodmythicalmoaning]

Audience

Ship(s): Rhink/Chase

Warnings: smut, degrading, praise, poly(?)

Edits. Jumpcuts, voiceovers. All of these things began to take more time as they had to be done more often. Rhett and Link's game had been going on for almost a week and a half before the others started to notice. How could they not? Constant touching, gazes held for too long, sexual innuendos every other minute? The two were a mess, and the office started taking bets. The game was on.

"You alright, Link? You look a little.. flustered." Rhett's words were testing, just as they started with every day. It was a common thing for him to speak with a certain gentle tone when first seeing Link in the mornings. He had dealt with everything from angry Link with a headache to dominant Link playing daddy. Today though, he could physically see the tension which was so familiar to him. The set of his shoulders, always on guard. The slight darkness to his usually bright eyes which came from a near-constant state of pent up lust.

Their rules had been simple. No getting off in any way, and whoever breaks first has to sub for the next week. Link had been about ready to bite the bullet for a few days now, his frustrations leaving him irritable. His pride was much too hard to bite back though. The thought of Rhett teasing him while desperately fucking him too much to allow.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Rhett. You should probably fix your fly though, buddy." Link's voice was slightly thick, all too recognizable to Rhett. The taller of the two turned away from the camera to fix his jeans, annoyed at his body's reaction to the mere presence of his counterpart.

Chase rolled his eyes at the two who were obviously prodding at each other's need.

"Editing this is going to be a nightmare. Should we apologize to them now?" Steve's voice spoke the words which had been rolling around in his mind.

"They'll probably get a nice surprise out of it. Wanna bet they find some way to grind in this video?" Chase's laugh came easy, the anxiety of talking about his boss's relationship long gone in years past.

"Oh they're definitely going to do something to each other." Steve's voice exuded confidence, but Chase didn't waver as his eyes followed their gazes at one another.

"No.. I think that's against their dumb rules. You know this has to be a hard game. I think at least one of them will do something sexual though." Rhett at that moment had looked away from Link and closed his eyes, surely spurred on by something the other had said.

"Twenty bucks and you're on." Stevie said while holding out her hand.

Link ran a hand through his hair, and his restrained shaking could be seen.

"Deal."

"You guys get ready, starting in three... two.. one.." Stevie counted down, watching as the two of them regained their composure. Rhett checked the monitor to make sure his hair wasn't a mess, and Link rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves. Everyone in the office could feel it. That subtle sense of tension when Rhett and Link were feeling frisky.

With a quick quip, and a pause for editing purposes, the boys had begun, falling into their characters with ease. Rhett stumbled slight more than usual, and Link's intense gaze held longer with everything his eyes fell upon. His movements were calculated, more like a robot and less like the clumsy boss Chase had come to know. It made his skin tingle when those blue eyes held his for even a moment. He couldn't fathom how Rhett was getting by with merely a slight stutter.

"Take your time, you'll get there eventually." Link's voice cut through yet another stumble of Rhett's bit. His tone was demeaning, as if he was scolding a child rather than being helpful to his co-worker and best friend. Chase felt his own cheeks get hot, but Rhett's gaze was one of defiance.

"Shut up, Neal." Stevie quickly wrote down a time stamp, on days like these she would help out the editors by writing down where some jump cuts would need to be made. The icy stare Link assessed Rhett with seemed to suck all of the air out of the room.

"Oh calm down, /Rhett/." The name was laced with power, Chase could see Rhett's resolve beginning to fizzle out. Stevie tried to direct them back to the show. For the first time since joining mythical, her request was cast aside, everyone in the studio seemed to hold their breath, waiting for Rhett to make the next move.

"I don't have to take orders from you." If there hadn't been a microphone a few inches from their faces, the others wouldn't have heard it at all.

Chase had to look away, his whole body screamed at him to watch, but their words were too effective. He was afraid of losing the game he wasn't a part of.

"God, this is gay." Stevie spoke just above a whisper, averting her eyes from the tension as if it made her slightly uncomfortable, but she wanted to let them get it out. She couldn't stand this for another day.

Link responded by turning in his chair, the slight difference in their height didn't matter when he was like this. His entire body radiated control. Nobody missed the slight whimper from Rhett when Link quietly spoke, his voice deeper than usual.

"Is that right?" Chase closed his eyes, allowing himself to bask in the slight southern drawl. He didn't notice that Rhett did the same. "Well.. that's too bad, then."

At those words, all hell broke loose. Link stood up, and braced his hand on the back of Rhett's chair, now looking down at the taller man. Stevie stood up, and began signaling to other crew members, having them shut off cameras quickly and get out. Chase, in that moment, lost his cool. A soft whine left his mouth while Rhett began to plead with Link, and the other crew members filled out.

"Well, Rhett. It seems we have an audience."

Chase's eyes snapped open wide, taking in the even gaze of power now directed at him. It was as if the very core of his being was starting to feel the temperature drop.

"I'm sorry, guys. I know this is really inappropriate, I should go." Chase surprised himself at being able to manage getting through the apology and halfway to the door before Link called out to him.

"Stop."

It was impossible for the younger not to follow the direct order, hell he would have dropped to his knees had Link been bold enough to ask.

"Turn around." It was as if a force outside of himself compared the boy to follow the simple instruction. The attention that both of his bosses gave caused his knees to nearly buckle.

Rhett was painfully aware of how much need thrummed through his body as Chase approached with a slightly trembling lip.

"I said I was sorry, Link." Link waved off the apology, and for the first time that day, he truly took in the appearance of the younger, even taking in a few details he had never considered before. His fingers slowly traced Chase's soft jaw, woeking their way into the hair just sprouting from his scalp. Rhett's soft whimper of jealousy was silenced with a hand gesture.

"I'll get to you in a moment." Link had never sounded more comfortable in Chase's opinion. He couldn't catch a stutter or slur in speech. The man was truly in his element.

Link's hand tightened in Chase's hair, sending tingles of pain and pleasure through him. Link admired how he was seeing the pleasure from the angle above for once.

"Do you want to say and watch us?" Chase barely caught the question while he followed Link's eyes over his body, slightly breathless at where his gaze would linger.

"Yeah, I uh.. I would." He couldn't come up with anything more. Not while Rhett's hand had began running over his own body, undoing shirt buttons with ease.

"Try again." Link's voice was demanding, the tone alone telling Chase what he already knew. The tone told him Link was in charge, and Chase was a toy to be played with.

"Ye-es sir." One of his knees did buckle when Link released the grip on his scalp, and turned to his lover.

Rhett resembled a puppy getting attention for the first time. He was beside himself in a way Chase had never seen. For once his height didn't make him look powerful. The lanky arms and legs left him looking slightly awkward. He looked like a man who needed to be told what to do, how to do it. Rhett was truly a puppet only existing for Link to pull the strings.

"Look at you, sittin' all nice n' pretty for me." Link took on a different tone with Rhett. Slightly less harsh. Chase was still shaking from the attention he had gotten.

The small boy flopped down in his chair, not caring that he made noise. Some part of him was just hoping to hear Link speak to him again.

"I am. I've been good." Rhett's voice was different as well. Almost childlike in the way he spoke. He was stating a fact to his counterpart. Chase thanked god for the lights shining on them, illuminating the lust and need within Rhett's eyes.

"One.." Link began to count, and Chase began to feel a sense of panic. He knew action would come behind the numbers, but he didn't know what to do about it.

Rhett wordlessly nodded, standing to let his shirt slide from his shoulders.

"Two.." Link's voice took the malicious tone again, his gaze falling on Chase from the few yards away which separated them. A look of amusement flashed across his face at the sudden panic reflected on Chase's.

"Three."

Rhett had already sucked off his jeans, leaving his underwear on as he stood patiently waiting for the attention to shift back to him. This seemed like another game to them, but no one had informed Chase of the rules.

"Looks like your time is up, Chase, and you didn't give me what I wanted."