#like someone pointed it out and I was like no that's my gay limp wrist right

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Me when a neurotypical asks me why I'm standing there completely silent with my arms like a dinosaur and my wrists bent not knowing my autistic brain tells me that it's unimaginably comfortable beyond belief for some reason

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

Not to keep harping on this but I accidentally saw a post that pissed me off a little bit so I'm gonna talk about it. Originally I was gonna put this at the end of the post but I've decided to move it to the top because I know some people are determined to take me out of context so I'll sacrifice the formatting of this post and some of the impact of this sentence in a vain hope that my point will not be misconstrued. I fully anticipate people skipping over this first paragraph anyway but at least I did my due diligence. You can like Izzy, I like Lestat (AMC IWTV), I like the Joker, It's fine to have an evil blorbo. It's the apologia that gets me tho. You're fake villain fuckers and you can't admit that your blorbo is fucked up in some deeply uncomfortable ways.

That said on to my angry meta: Either Izzy is homophobic, or he's an abuser. He could be both, but he can't be neither otherwise the literal climax of the first season doesn't make any fucking sense. Like he calls in a swat on Stede and the crew because Stede has, quote, "done something to his boss's brain" and he wants Stede dead because of it. homosexuality as a corrupting influence is textbook homophobia. He thinks Stede has made Ed soft and he thinks he's using his limp wristed wiles to do it.

If you don't want to read it as homophobia (which would be a weird reading because it fails to explain that line and misses the whole message about toxic masculinity, but I've heard it's the reading that some people go with so, let's look at it) and you think that he's doing all of this because he's in love with Ed and he's jealous, I hate to tell you but that brings us back around to the abuser reading.

Like, the reading that this subset of the fandom seems to want me to believe is Izzy is in tragic gay love with Ed. But that doesn't make a single damn thing that he did ok. In fact it kind of makes it worse. Like trying to kill the loved ones of your beloved is text book abuser behavior. You're telling me that Izzy feels so entitled to Ed that he cannot take "Fuck off you're banished from the ship" For an answer, and he has to kill the guy that he blames for turning Ed against him? And I'm supposed to sympathize with that? Get real. That's text book abuser behavior. If that's the reading, then Izzy can't handle Ed having someone in his life that isn't Izzy, he can't handle Ed making decisions that Izzy doesn't approve of, and he can't handle Ed breaking off their relationship (which was Izzy's fault by the way he agreed to duel Stede sorry you can't handle the consequences honey). Those first two things you have to be able to handle if you want to have friends or even professional relationships, and the third thing is something that you're allowed to be upset about but that you're gonna have to move on from. Instead Izzy comes up with a hair brained scheme that risks the crews lives, Calico Jack's life, and, most importantly, risks Ed's life in order to... what? Undermine Ed's own autonomous choice to pursue a relationship with Stede? Get rid of a guy that he thinks is driving him and Ed apart so that Ed will maybe take him back? That's abuser shit my guy.

If there's another explanation for Izzy calling the fucking cops I'd love to hear it but as far as I can tell the options are "He hates Stede because Stede is frilly and camp and thinks Stede is making Ed weak" aka Textbook hate crime and "He's in deeply dysfunctional love and is therefore trying to force Ed to be in a relationship with him despite the fact that Ed has made it clear he doesn't want that" aka Textbook abuser.

To be clear I wouldn't have Izzy any other way. The roll he plays in the narrative is important to the story. I don't like him, per se, but I like stories about overcoming toxic masculinity, and those stories have to have a villain, and I was deeply emotionally ruined by the consequences of his actions, (i.e. the domino effect that caused Stede to abandon Ed on the dock) so I want him around for as long as they decide to keep him around. Just, like, fucking pretending he's never done anything wrong ever? Come on now.

[lesbiandanhowell]

Sam reacts to: Dan and Phil's Raging Trombones

- PHIL IN THE SWEATER!! This distracted me the entire first like 3 minutes because FINALLY

- Dan trying not to smile when Phil made the spunk comment, he is so whipped fr.

- The holding their breath just a starring contest. it is so representative of them, Phil staring at the camera and Dan looking at Phil. Also Phil just broke because he had to laugh looking at Dan.

- This game is chaotic as fuck and it stresses me out I won't lie. There are too many sounds and the music with their voices is sensory overload ew.

- Why did you high five with your forehead Dan... no logic behind any of their actions truly.

- DAN NO NOT THE REVERSE COWGIRL COCKPIT JOKE

- Phil shouldn't be giggling that cutely when when Dan calls him a baboon... like they are both down so horrendously still.

- "I am getting jumpscared by these balls in my face" "First time Phil said that" WHAT THE FUCK DAN

- You can tell who is the musical one in the relationship and who lacks all musical ability (same Phil same, I got zero musical skills).

- Dan looking at Phil with adorable expectation when Phil suggests to play a song off the top of his head and just laughing at him fondly.

- NOT THE DIRTY JOKES HELP ME

- "I am going to come because Phils tromboning is so good" I WANT TO DIE AFTER HEARING THAT SENTENCE ACTUALLY WHY DAN WHY

- Phil touching Dan's temple and I a.m just thinking of @danrifics making touchy gifs

- Why are they playing at 2am someone help them. They said they were doing so well with not filming at night but I guess that went out the window at some point huh?

- Phil beatseat gaming princess letting Dan get the S grades to unlock the thing. Never beating the allegations I fear.

- Possibly the weirdest game they have ever played I won't lie (yes worse than Horse Prince).

- Limp wristed gay jokes, I love that they are just making so many gay jokes now.

Check #sam reacts for other videos and see you tomorrow!

[jennyandvastraflint]

Xena Reactions S2Ep18

Xena wants foooood!

Gabrielle wants to go shoppinggggg XD

Oh they'll kidnap Gabrielle aren't they

She bought a scarf for two dinars

AAAAH. THEY KIDNAPPED GABRIELLE

Gabrielle 🤝 Jenny Getting kidnapped :(

"Because I killed her, Xena" OI DON'T MAKE HER THAT ANGRY

Xena is ready for a fightttt

Who even is this guy... Am I supposed to know him? He seems to know about Draco and Callisto

Dude, stop damaging the stalls. You're gonna pay for all that

"What did you do with Gabrielle" Attack dog

He's delusional

"You got thirty seconds to tell me where she is"

Oh this guy is fucking annoying. Stab his guts. Slice open his balls.

OH SHIT. IS SHE ALLERGIC TO THE OIL.

I wish this show had no men in it

NOOOO XENA WANTS HER WIFEY BACKKKKK

uhhhh... Why is there a portrait of Gabrielle...

Ew this is disgusting. DON'T SELL WOMEN TO GROSS MEN.

Ahdhdhdhd SHE LOOKS AT THE COCK OF THE STATUE

URGH FFS... Can dudes stop being like that to women

"I don't respond well to threats. However, I find pain quite persuasive..." 😂

SHIT IS SHE GOING BLIND. Yup

Key between the boobs 👀

"No but I'm in a hurry and you'll be my eyes"

"And she's not going to like this forced marriage thing"

STOP INSULTING HER!???

"I CAN'T I WON'T" "Hungry, my queen?" "Oh a few grapes..." XD

Well... Blind for life? I mean, Gabrielle can be her eyes

"That must be one friend..." 🏳️‍🌈💕

"You commanded respect" "No, I commanded fear"

Oh no...

"Lady Gabrielle" THE GUY COMING OUT-

Boobrielle- did they push her boobs to be bigger?

Her braid and hair looks pretty tho

Hmmmmm I don't like this

Oh they'll fall

XENA. SHE JUST DROPPED HERSELF

She's fine(ish)

Urgh this dude is getting on my nerves

PLS HER WRIST GOING LIMP. GAY

Yeah they're really pushing her boobs...

"Have you ever been in love?"

"a certain someone" oh he's queer isn't he.

"Now you know how I feel" XENA.

"Those aren't pleasant memories for me" SHE'S HAVING PTSD MOMENTS MY BABYGIRL

Gabrielle my love

"Cold hands" he's dead.

"Because all the men I get serious about end up dead" shfhshss

THEY WANT HER TO FUCKING DIE??? URGHHH

Xena climbing a wall blind ✌️

SHE TOSSED THE SHAKRAM

"Is your friend really worth all this?" "I'd die for her" Average lesbian relationship idk what you mean

Yea he's trying to pull the alpha male shit

Shfdhdhd the propped up king

Ough and Gabrielle tied up

"Give us a sign" Blergh. Xena will fucking murder him

"Your deadness"

Urgh leave Gabrielle ALOOONEEEEE

"You're right, this place is crawling with guards"

UARGHHHH!!! STOPPPPP

"She and the king are to be cremated" NUGHH Xena is so worried for her gf

Noooo, the guy realised she can't see

She's fighting by ear...

ARGH SOMEONE HELP GABRIELLE

"GABRIELLE HANG ON" "xena" STOPPPPPP

"GABRIELLE GABRIELLE GABRIELLE"

THEY'RE HUGGING AND CRYING

"I have that growing in my garden" shdhfd

GABRIELLE GENTLY TILTING HER FACE AND CLEARING HER EYES

"now that's a sight for sore eyes"

From a disability rep point I'd appreciate them not treating blindness as a THE MOST HORRIBLE FATE EVER

Awww he actually learned something...

"I think I'm gonna PRETEND to be good for a while"

AHAHAHAAA I CALLED THE GUY IS GAYYYY XDDD

"Can you courtesy?" 😂 I mean she learned for pretending to be Diana, didn't she

"I hate you. In a good way" 🏳️‍🌈

[alarrytale]

any 'criticism' from twitter is not real criticism it's people being haters spreading complete bullcrap and it's honestly so tiring. the mental illness from people in fandoms who hate on other celebs is real. they don't make any sense and what they're saying is completely untrue yet here we are forced to read this insanity. no person in their right mind would be saying that when harry doesn't have music to sell he looks straight. you don't 'look' your sexuality unless you intentionally queer code. looking straight is not a thing. I am just sick and tired of haters being so stupid on purpose just because they want to hate harry because they're not his 'stan'.

Hi, anon!

I sort of both agree and disagree with you. I agree that people love to hate on successful people, and hive minds and fandom culture usually make people pile on or create hate trains. The competition for attention and engagement between artists and between fandoms is rife and small things can quickly blow out of porportions. However people are allowed to call out their fave for their behaviour. It doesn’t mean they love them any less. It doesn’t mean they hate them.

I get why people are reacting to what they see as queerbaiting. The tweet in question was tweeted by a queer man. I totally get why people, especially queer people, are calling out queerbaiting. Queer people want and need real queer representation, and don't want to be baited by straight people who have historically marginalised and oppressed queers. I see the tweet as critism and not hate. The tweet wasn't hateful. It was a remark and subtle dig/a call out to Harry for only appearing queer when it's profitable, which is an image he in fact is projecting to the gp. H is also not showing behaviour that you'd expect to see in a gay but closeted person. He's exaggeratedly flamboyant and queer presenting when on stage or a red carpet, but when he's off stage he's back to playing a womaniser who rotates regularly between model gfs. Since he is straight presenting, with no natural limp wrist or any mannerisms which is associated with queer stereotypes, people will read him as straight. So we can't fault anyone for not knowing he's gay and closeted. You should, of course, never assume someones sexuality, but every arrow points to him being straight.

Harry usually does queercode. We're used to seeing him with long floppy hair, flared pants or skinny leggings, flowery shirts, maybe a purse, and fully decked in jewelry. When he turns up with short neat hair and in plain smart business clothing, in a stereotypically male and heterosexual environment (a football match), while still stunting and showing no natural stereotypical queer mannerisms, people are going to see a straight man. Since he's presenting both super queer and super straight, people are confused. He's sending out mixed signals. Since he's not naturally stereotypically gay presenting, like Louis is for example, he's not even recognised as gay by his own community. It's his own community calling him out. His fellow queers.

The way fandoms are and hive minds work, people are going to pile on to drag him down. They see behaviour they don't agree with and call him out for it. That's not hate in my eyes. They're protecting themselves and their community from being taken advantage of by a "straight" man yet again. I don't think they're being ignorant on purpose. I just think his straight image has done a number on them, it's working too well. You can't blame queer people for being gaslighted into believing he's straight. Sony made it this way and now Sony have to deal with the consequences. If H was allowed to be his gay self and stopped stunting with women, he'd be read as queer instead of a queerbaiter.

[ciaran]

i'm the anon who sent the befriending ask.... i am very very curious about more of your thoughts on the complexities of csa. i was thinking about this the other day because i was reading far from the tree and

[The perpetrators in the Horace Mann scandal] were wounded, confused people trying to figure out how to function in a world that taught them their homosexual desire was sick […] someone whose core being is deemed a sickness may struggle to parse the distinction between that and a greater crime

i'm not sure i agree with the line of reasoning in this paragraph (i think often perpetrators are not "confused" so much as "desperate") but i do think incidences of csa, especially as relating to homosexuality, do often occur due to the way society has treated gayness (in a way that makes it "safer" to experiment across a large power differential)

hello!

discussion of csa and homosexuality and criminalization

one of the things i was thinking of as i wrote that post that i didnt include because this thought process isnt fully...processed...is that many of these crimes are contingent on certain ideas we have now about crime and the effects of actions. a lot of the causality we take for granted now did, at some point in the past, have to be learned... an understanding of it did not come intuitively to the people causing or experiencing it. i find the language of "excuses" sort of unhelpful and limiting, so i don't want to put too fine a point on whether something is Wrong even if the person doesn't Know They're Doing Wrong or have An Intent To Hurt. these things are fuzzy and not the topic of conversation to me... what matters is that like, articulations of why something wrong change from period to period as knowledge grows. so like, now we would say that child abuse is bad because you're causing indelible harm to an immature psyche at a stage when this harm will form the basis of their interactions with the world. but at a certain point in the past the explanation was more along the lines of "you shouldn't have sex with a teenager because sex before marriage is wrong and bad and you cant get married to a teenager" [well, you could also do that, and many people did].

so with that out of the way, i also have to wonder how much of a role... homosociality and the kinds of relations it favored and enabled played a part in the tendency towards relationships with a wide age gap. there's the reason in the quote you mentioned and which i went over in my post, that an ethical-but-illegal act gets conflated with an unethical-and-illegal one due to their shared illegality. that's one thing. but also i wonder if it was...accepted practice in some fashion to clock younger gay men, effeminate teenagers and noticeably limp-wristed dandies, and fold them into a circle of homosexual activity (i make it sound very depraved nkdjfskf) via seduction or whatever. like there's a difference to me between making out with someone much younger than you because otherwise they might try to kiss their classmate and get hatecrimed and...grooming with the intent to isolate and abuse. i'm not saying it was always innocent or that there weren't predatory gay men but there's a noticeable discrepancy between isolating abuse and drawing someone into a circle of relative safety and normalcy from a young age.

i don't know much about this topic and i am basically just applying my reasoning and imagination to it. which is also what i did in my original post so im pleasantly surprised to find corroboration, and it's a very interesting quote for sure - i agree that it's desperation in general, and the confusion is more likely to arise from (for example) having had similar experiences in their own past and reproducing them due to a lack of framework.

thank you for the ask! im sorry if it stops making sense at any point im very sleepy and we just watched perfect blue so my brain is pretty fried. if you dont want me to have answered this ask publicly let me know and ill make it private!

[roboticchibitan]

I just ordered loving: a photographic history of men in love from 1850s to 1950s and I SUPER excited for it. I wanted to preorder it when it came out but I couldn't afford it for full price. But that's not the point of the post.

The point of this post is that there's another "vintage photographs of people who were probably queer" book! And it's got women and gender nonconforming people in it! (No shade to Loving for only having men in it. It was compiled by a gay man collecting photos that spoke to him as a gay man. Not everything needs to be about everyone). It's called the invisibles: vintage portraits of love and pride.

I think it might be out of print but I tracked down an old library discard copy and it is one of my most prized posessions. I like to occasionally flip through it and go feral. It's what inspired my "the yearning is upon me again" tag. There's photos in this book that I am absolutely obsessed with.

I will never be as funny as these guys dressed as fairies doing the limp wrist thing.

I am OBSESSED with this photo. I've posted it before and I'll post it again! Because!! It's so intimate!! Normally I refer to people in these books as "allegedly queer" because it's not my business to speak for the dead (or potentially living in the later photos) but there is no heterosexual explanation for this one. These two men are in love and oblivious to everything else. And! Someone had to take that picture!! Someone else was there! And they saw this moment and decided "this needs to be captured forever." There's such tenderness in this picture.

I'm obsessed with photos of queer lovers lounging together and this book has several! I love them bc sometimes my gf and I lay in bed for HOURS on lazy weekends. It's about intimacy and comfort and safety!! I see myself in those pictures.

The book has a lot of gender nonconforming people in it, too. As well as what looks like some Boston marriages but I'm not good enough at placing period clothing to their times enough to know if that's what they are. There's multiple black and white lesbian wedding photos in it. There's color pictures of what appears to be an elderly lesbian couple from the 70s (but again, we can't say for sure).

This book helps me feel connected to our elders and queer ancestors. "Family" used to be a euphemism for queer, a way to identify each other. This book makes me feel like a grandchild listening to great grandma's secret stories, giving me a peek into lives very different than mine. And there's such joy in this book! And such tenderness!

It's one of my most prizes posessions and absolutely worth the money I spent on it (which was a lot for me at the time I think it was $45ish).

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin the Token Straight

(Another AU that's mostly me and @atagotiak)

I like Token Straight Anakin who is very much an ally but every time one of the queers in his circle makes a gay joke (and they're all doing it, all the time, because they're all a shade of rainbow), he's just... so confused.

He has no idea what anyone's talking about, at all, ever.

He'll punch a bigot, no hesitation, but if the nearest bisexual makes a joke that contains a limp wrist as a visual intensifier, he has no clue what it means.

(He’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit.)

Obi-Wan, Cody, and Ahsoka helping Rex figure out his sexuality! Anakin brought the drinks and snacks. This is his only useful contribution.

Cody does the “is he [drops lightsaber]” joke at least once and Anakin thinks the whole lightsaber thing is funny but he’s baffled as to what Cody is wondering about what Obi-Wan is.

This feels like another "Anakin really is the guy that got married right out of high school" joke but lbr he brought that on himself.

Ahsoka, glancing furtively at Barriss and then over to Rex: Do you think she listens to Space Mitski? Rex: No clue. Anakin: I don't know who Mitski is, but if you want to know Padawan Offee's music tastes, why don't you just ask? Or I could ask for y-- Ahsoka: NO!

TFW your older brother offers to ask your crush if she's into girls but he doesn't know that's what he'd be asking.

Rex: You want to be gal pals with her? Anakin: Don’t worry, Snips, you’re nice and funny, I bet you can make new friends real easy!

Anakin at one point says "I feel like most of my friends are queer" while he's having dinner with Padme, and then just turns to her like "are you...?"

Yes, Anakin, she's bi.

She pats his cheek and tells him she's glad he's invested in his loved ones' happiness, but also the tubers are getting cold, please start eating.

Ahsoka accidentally comes out to everyone via gay joke and on-purpose comes out to Anakin later because it went right over his head.

Something something ambidextrous and/or dual wielding? Something sword-y.

Ahsoka: I swing both ways! Violently. With a sword. Rex: Two swords. Ahsoka, nodding sagely: With two swords. Obi-Wan, helping push the wordplay farther: Because you have two hands? Ahsoka, who's down for poly: Yes! Because I have two hands! Cody, following the time-honored tradition of using a group joke to rag on someone: Just make sure you don't drop them. Obi-Wan: Now really.

Anakin, off to the side: [smiling] Anakin, internally: ????? Yes? That's how you use a lightsaber?????? Anakin, still internally: Yes, she does favor Jar'kai, but???

-SOME TIME LATER-

Anakin: Wait, that's what that meant? Ahsoka: You... wait, what? Anakin: I didn't get it. Ahsoka: You smiled! Anakin: Everyone else was laughing and I didn't want to feel left out. Not getting the joke always makes me feel dumb. Ahsoka: That's... okay, sure, but you do know now that I'm bisexual. Anakin: Yes. Because you said the words to my face.

[twopoppies]

I have a question that has been bothering me for a while, but I’m afraid it will come across as rude. I don’t mean it in that way, I am just a bit ignorant and trying to understand things better. I am not a part of the lgbt+ community, but I’ve been a Larrie for 3 years and I have learned a lot in that time. Something I won’t ever be able to understand though is how certain things make members of the community feel. For instance, my question is: if Harry WAS NOT gay (as we are supposed to believe I guess) is him dressing up in boas and pride flags every night not a little bit like… offensive? Wouldn’t it kind of be like cultural appropriation a little bit? I mean we obviously assume that he is gay, so it feels like self expression, but if we took it at face value is it not a little odd? And, my real question that I feel is rude but is just my ignorance and I’m so sorry: if he can do all that on stage, is it really too far of a leap to come out publicly as well? I know that’s an awful question, I understand NO ONE should come out for others comfort and that it’s a different complex thing for each person. It just seems like if he’s doing all this he seems pretty comfortable in himself. Sorry I have just wondered this for so long. Please don’t answer if you feel I am being rude. I don’t mean it that way! I didn’t know who else to ask. Thanks Gina.

Hi darling. It's not rude. I understand where you're coming from. It's not a simple question to answer. The clothes, in general, I don't see as being offensive regardless of his sexuality, but there are moments (like last night with the big sunglasses and the boa and the limp wrist) where he's clearly being very effeminate and if he were straight, it could be read as him mocking gay men. The flags are different, people who want to believe he's straight think he's an "ally", and the LGBTQ+ community feels seen and knows that no straight man is THAT committed to being an ally. He's not doing anything offensive with them IMO.

The thing is, doing all of this on stage or in magazines is so different from actually coming out and stating beyond a shadow of a doubt that he's gay/queer/part of the community in some way that means he sleeps with men. People who don't want to see that truth can hide behind things like "he says he's unlabelled!" "he's dating Olivia!" "watermelon sugar is about pussy!" "he looked at me when I said choke me daddy!" even though over and over and over he has signaled that he's not that person. But those people will still buy his album and go to his concerts and funnel money into the Harry Styles™ machine because they get to hold on to their fantasy.

The minute he makes it clear that he's not what they want him to be, many of those fans willdisappear. Look how many supposed die-hard larries hate him now because they've decided he's not who they thought he was. No one who makes money off of him wants him to come out. They're making millions by encouraging him straddle the fence. But how long do you think he can continue like that? 11 years of pretending to be someone you're not, while the articles about you and the fan behavior towards you are just getting worse? He's going to crack at some point.

Sorry, that was a bit tangential, but coming out is so much more than just knowing a portion of your fans will still support you.

[mediocre--writing]

what if when neil found out steve and billy are dating, instead, he goes and beats the shit out of Steve to teach billy a lesson

“billy, shut up or i’m telling steve!”

the pause in the air was so pregnant that nobody dared to move.

billy felt his pulse shoot up so high he was sure he was going to vibrate off of the chair he sat on. he could see the fork in his hand wobble more and more violently as he willed it to stay still.

this was exactly what happened last time.

being too joke-y and playful, max saying something just incriminating enough, and the whole universe coming to a pause, just to jeer and laugh at poor billy hargrove.

the dinner was nice, one of the better ones susan had made, and everyone in the house was smiling.

max and billy were closer than ever, even before the move out to indiana, and felt like true siblings, much to the delight of both parents.

neils nose scrunched. he looked back and forth around the table before raising his steel eyes to meet max’s.

“who’s steve?”

max knew she’d done it this time. she was cornered and her face was burning with shame for what she brought on billy, what she brought on herself, what she brought on the house.

“one of billy’s friends. he babysits dustin sometimes. drives him around, ya know?”

max sounded causal. and it wouldn’t have been suspicious had the room not had a tense air that hadn’t been present prior to the move.

“friend?” neil moved his eyes over to billy, who instantly straightened his posture and set his face as blank as possible. “billy, you’re finally making good friends here?”

billy’s eyes scanned up and down his fathers figure before nodding, “yes, sir,”

neil smiled, “well, that’s great to hear,” and continued eating his vegetables.

billy didn’t move. this seemed like a trick.

there is no way that neil hargrove had so easily brushed off a comment like that without causing a fit or threatening to kill.

billy could still feel the phantom pains that came with the beating after neil had found out about harry.

billy had never experienced that much pain, never felt so fearful for his life as his dads boot pressed into his neck.

how bad it hurt when neil ripped out his original earring and pulled out his hair.

how he couldn’t sit straight for weeks, but still forced himself to in order to seem proper and kind and sweet, like the good son he is.

billy remembers the crunch of his ankle when he fell down to the floor. he remembers the threat on his life if neil even found a trace of billy acting the way he did.

worst of all, he remembers the way his heart ripped itself in half, every string connecting it being brutally ripped and burned on the ends to ensure there was no connecting it back together on the night he told harry he was leaving.

told him not to stay in touch, not to find his new number or his new address. not to even so much as think about billy for too long, in fear that neil would just know.

how he sat in the johnson’s backyard sunroom in the late afternoon and sobbed in harry’s arms.

how he had his right leg on the side of the couch, a big blue cast making it heavier and the splint he had on his wrist making it hard to grab at harry’s shirt.

how harry stroked at his hair and never mentioned the patch in the back that was gone, completely bald in that one spot. never mentioned how billy’s earring had moved sides and how there were three small stitches holding the other ear together.

and, now, billy having to see neil sit at a table and act like nothing happened, he almost felt more afraid than he did then.

monday morning, after billy’s weekend from hell. and no, it’s not what you’re thinking.

billy didn’t get hit once. didn’t get any dirty looks or obsessive nagging from neil.

of anything, neil seemed to smile at billy more that weekend.

billy didn’t dare step out of line, though. he offered to do dishes every night and did everyone’s laundry. he sat in the family room at night and was kind and sweet. didn’t leave the house once, nor did he make any phone calls.

and he was more on edge than ever.

driving him and max to school that day was like a breath of fresh air. even if it was kinda cow-shitty air, it wasn’t neil’s air.

billy pulled up to the middle school curb to let max out, but she didn’t move.

when billy turned to look at her, he saw her staring, slack jawed at something in the high school parking lot.

when billy turned his head, he wished he hadn’t seen it.

steve.

steve with his arm in a cast and sitting in a sling. steve with his face bloodier and more bruised than billy had ever made it look. steve waking with a limp as he got into the school doors.

“you don’t think—“ max couldn’t even finish her sentence before billy felt rage take over his entire body.

“get out. go to class. if i don’t pick you up today, go home with one of your friends. do you understand?”

max quickly said yes and got out of the car, billy whipping into his usual parking space before getting out and running, yes running, to steve, who was still trying to get through the front door.

“steve—“ billy stopped a few feet away as steve finally got the door open and walked into the halls.

billy chased after him, which wasn’t hard (steve was limping) but the sheer amount of people in the halls was hard to get around.

“steve! steve, stop!” billy forced himself through the hallways, never remembering them being this crowded before, or maybe that was his anxiety talking.

“steve,” billy finally stopped as he got in front of steve.

“billy, i really don’t want to talk to you right now,”

steve’s eyebrows did that weird thing where they scrunch in the middle and make the ends push down. they make him look more tired than he already is.

“no, no!” billy was freaking out. even without looking, he knew his hands were shaking worse than they ever had before.

“just—“ billy looked around before seeing the boy’s bathroom, gently pushing steve through the doors before locking the two of them in there together.

“bil—“

“is anyone in here!?” billy asked as he peaked under the stalls and checked every inch of the bathroom.

“this is my fault, but you gotta tell me what happened, steve,”

“i—i don’t even know!” steve looked around the bathroom as he leaned, defeated, against the wall next to the towel dispenser.

“you don’t know!?” billy was shouting, “did he come to your house? was this like an ambush thing? did he say anything to you? you have to give me something, steve!”

“i—i,” steve was floundering for the words to tell billy.

“he just— saturday night, i was coming home from dustins and i had to stop and pick up some milk from the 24-hour store and i came out and three of my tires were slashed.

“so i set down my stuff at the car and go back in to ask to use a phone, but someone yanks me back to the alley behind the store and beats the shit out of me, billy!”

billy was rubbing his hands over the stubble on his chin as he tried to process steve’s story.

“told me to stay the fuck away from his son and that he’d kill me if he found out i even looked at you again, alright! all while he’s shoving his foot into my elbow, but not before he pulls up on my wrist and breaks my arm!”

“oh my god,” billy stumbles backwards until his back hits the wall between the sinks, then he starts to slide down until he’s sitting on the floor, forcing himself not to cry.

steve huffs out something that sounds like “yeah” before moving to sit down too.

“did you tell anyone?”

“i didn’t know if i should,”

“you didn’t tell anyone!?”

“what was i supposed to say!?”

“that a psycho jumped you in the alley! what did you tell the hospital?”

steve was quiet for too long.

“you went to the hospital, right!?”

“not... exactly,”

“you fixed your own broken arm?”

“no.” steve looked down then around at the stalls, “i had jonathan help me,”

“steve!”

“well i needed someone to pick me up and i knew he wouldn’t ask questions!” steve admits. “would you want me to tell people?”

yes.

billys first thought. of course steve should have called the cops or gone to a hospital. neil hargrove should be arrested for what he did to steve.

no.

the logical part of billy’s brain says. if they take him to court over something like this, it could have too many repercussions.

for one, neil could tell everyone that his son and steve harrington are gay and fucking each other.

plus, it would force neils... home tendencies to come up at some point, and if it didn’t work out in a pretty liberal cali, then nobody in conservative indiana is going to berate neil for ‘taking care of’ his gay son.

it’s a lose-lose situation.

“billy?”

his blue eyes snap back to steve’s face: still kind and reassuring with the huge, grotesque scabs and swelling scattered everywhere.

“it’s why he didn’t do anything,”

the comment, said mostly to billy himself, caught steve’s interest, “what?”

“max... talked about you at dinner friday, and he didn’t do anything. i was waiting all weekend for him to snap and he never did, smiled more, even. now i know why,”

they sat together in thought for a while, a good ten minutes after the late bell rang, before billy cleared his throat.

“you said he slashed your tires?”—steve nodded—“you get ‘em replaced?”—steve nodded again—“did you drive yourself to school today?”

“yea—billy where is this going?”

before steve even got a read on billy’s face, the bathroom door was unlocked and swinging open, billy racing out.

steve, crippled as he may be, managed to get off the floor with his bum leg and broken arm, walking after a brief glimpse of billy as he turned corners before leaving out to the student parking lot.

billy was at steve’s car before he was, reaching through the open windows and popping the trunk, bitching about how steve needs to roll his windows up because people are gonna steal his car.

he reached into the trunk and grabbed the nail bat he knew steve would have there (the bat goes where steve goes).

“hey! billy!” steve is yelling to an empty parking lot, the only response being steve’s trunk slamming shut and billy marching over to his own car before getting in and screeching out of the lot.

steve was still standing there, speechless, as he watched the quick blue car shoot down the road.

steve, ever being the hero, limped back to the school, rifling through his pockets for loose change to push into the phone before dialing the byers house.

joyce picked up after two rings.

“hello, byers house,”

“is hopper there!?” his voice came out scratchy and worn.

“steve?”

“joyce! is hopper there?”

“he’s about to leave for work, why do yo—“

“put him on the phone! now!”

“o—ok,”

there’s rustling and muffled voices on the other line before steve hears hoppers gruff voice ask what he needs.

“i need you to do me a cop-like favor but as hopper, not a cop,”

“kid—“ hopper sighed and steve could just imagine him running a hand down his face. “i’ve gotta get to work and i don’t have t—“

“i think someone may be getting really hurt but i’ve been asked—well, not asked, but it’s been implied—that i shouldn’t get cops involved but i need you to do this for me, hopper!”

“is it... lab stuff?”

“no! this is like—halfway murder stuff!”

“who and where?”

“billy’s house. i think,”

hopper sighed and was quiet for a moment before giving a quick ‘i’ll go check it out,’

“not as a cop!”

“not as a cop,”

and steve felt useless. he knew he wouldn’t be able to go into class and feel ok.

hell, even if everything turned out alright, steve wasn’t sure when this fluttery, anxious feeling in his stomach would go away.

so, as a sane person would do, steve started slowly driving to billy’s house. not slowly, but the speed limit. just to give billy and hopper time to do something and steve wouldn’t get yelled at by billy for ‘getting in the middle of it.’

but when steve does get there, boy oh boy!

there’s a truck that’s got holes and dents all around it, windows smashed in and the wheels all flat, billy panting with the nail bat held limply in his hand.

neil, however, was standing on the porch, dressed ready for work, holding a shotgun at billy.

steve was parked a bit down the street, but the screaming could be heard with just his windows rolled down.

nothing sounded like anguished yells of pain, just hurtful jabs and ruthless words being spat back and forth.

steve couldn’t have wished harder for hopper to hurry the fuck up.

steve was intently watching the two men, both seeming to think they had the upper hand, when he heard the cocking of a gun taken off safety.

he sees billy’s blond hair start moving backwards, away from the house right as he catches a glimpse of a tan truck in his rear view mirror. hopper.

neither of the hargroves have noticed hoppers truck.

neil shoots a warning shot, one that goes a foot above billy’s head and into the wooded area in front of their house.

billy backs up quicker.

hopper turns his sirens on.

billy’s head shoots left to see the two cars.

neil’s finger lifts off the trigger.

hopper parks the truck, having already called for backup the second he saw neil holding a gun at his son.

he gets out, has that intimidating air about him that makes everything else quiet.

“we doin’ alright here?” hopper asks, hands resting on his belt, close to his gun.

“everything’s fine,” neil grits out.

“‘everything’s fine’ but you’re holding a gun at your boy. explain that to me,”

“listen here, pig, i don’t need you tellin me how i can raise my kids!”

“not questioning your parenting, just your choice of punishment,”

“he broke up my car!” neil yelled, hopper looked over to the (absolutely demolished) truck. “i told him, i told him he ain’t messin with what’s mine and the boy didn’t listen! so i’m just showin’ him how the real world is gonna come at him!”

“the real world is going to shoot him?” hopper asks with a quirk of his eyebrow.

billy has backed up all the way to the end of the driveway, behind where hopper was standing, and steve has gotten out of his car and was walking across neighboring lawns to get closer to billy.

he finally reaches billy.

“what the hell are you doing?” billy asks with wide eyes at steve, trying to keep quiet and not alert his dad and hopper.

“i—i’m not really sure,”

“jesus, you’re an idiot,” billy grumbles as he watches hopper and neil get closer as they talk.

the men are getting within ten feet of each other when hopper gets neil to put the gun down, even closes the part on his tool belt that has his gun.

neil comes off the porch, he and hopper are close, like two feet.

they’re talking quietly, and as much as steve and billy want to know what they’re saying, they don’t dare move any closer.

“—that boy!”

they only catch the end of the sentence, but neil is pointing at steve and hopper has his head turned with a disappointed look at steve.

“you couldn’t have waited in the car?” hopper groans and neil looks outraged.

“you’re telling me you support this abomination!? this is your doing, isn’t it? you allow things like this in your town? do you!?”

hoppers face looks calm.

“yeah, yeah i do,” he smiles, the mustache lifts with the rest of his face. then neil takes a swing at him.

they get into a brawl, but neil, however easy it is for him to beat up teenagers, can’t take hopper. not even on his best day.

hoppers backup shows up soon after, neil getting shoved into the back of a cop car with handcuffs (god, billy wishes he could get a picture of that).

hopper gets statements from steve and billy and susan and max. even mrs. garibaldi, the neighbor whose window looks right into the hargrove house and has written down dates and descriptions of what she sees (what a godsend, that woman is).

hopper has friends with high positions, good lawyer friends who don’t mind doing a good thing for a bad situation.

everything works out in the end.

plus, steve has a gnarley scar along the side of his neck, leading to his ear that billy enjoys kissing all the time. (and a lifetime of aches from waiting three days to do to the hospital for his backwards arm!)

[robotslenderman]

snipsnip

"Why are people like that?" says Wendy.

“That you can’t imagine any answer to that says… a lot, really,” says Thomas. “You were a better person than Gerard could handle. Gerard only gave a shit about not having to go out to eat, you know? Too much effort. And now Alexander’s turning out to be another self-absorbed douche. That’s the problem. When you’re someone who wants to help, who wants to be useful, who wants to make things better — that makes you a magnet for selfish douchebags because they’re the ones most likely to help themselves to whatever you offer, whereas the less selfish ones are going to give enough of a shit about you that they won’t take advantage of that. Gerard used you because he wanted to make his internet better and you could do it for him. Alexander used you because — I dunno, maybe he really likes Nossy pussy or something, I don’t know — “

Wendy is laughing again.

“Point is, they’re dicks,” Thomas goes on. “Shit, I feel like a raging queer stereotype, playing the sassy gay friend comforting his female friend after she’s been dumped by yet another fuckwad. Yaas, queen, your ex is such a dick, girl! You can’t see it, but my wrist is as limp as a noodle right now.”

Wendy is laughing even harder.

“Teal deer,” says Thomas, “giving a shit sucks donkey balls. Ditch the fuckers that don’t give a shit, find the fuckers that do.”

[takeninbadfaith]

The “Thou Shalt Nots”

and the “tip” that could have replaced all of them.

AKA the “No Shit Sherlock” group

AKA Did you need these tips? is that why you put them in? Aside from taking pot shots at She-Ra?

16: If the only gay man in your work is a faupish diva, you’re a huge turd.

No shit.

My gods, did this really need to be said? 

The only thing i’m questioning is what show is this in reference to? because damn near the rest of these are about characters in She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. If you know, please tell me so i can find the diva and love the heck out of him. 

on a more serious note, while, yes, if your only gay male character that one has in their work aligns with the limp-wristed, lispy fop stereotype, then one does need to examine their writing and how they write characters, because gay men come in all personalities. If one of many MLM characters happens to be more femme, then that’s not a problem, as femme gay men can and do exist. 

17: If the only lesbian in your work is an abusive ragaholic with vague angst issues and a codependent relationship to a protagonist, you’re a huge turd.

So. This is a dig at She-Ra, and at the character of Catra in specific. Though, even then it’s a poor dig, becuase, ya know. Adora is also a lesbian or bisexual. Making Catra not the “only” lesbian character. Also there’s Netossa and Spinerella who are in a relationship. 

Diregentleman also pointed out that this list of characteristics also near perfectly describes Vaggy from Hazbin Hotel, a show that Orchard likes. So. The problems for her seems to not be with the stereotype of the angry lesbian, but with the fact that She-Ra and the Princess of Power existed.

18: If your only nonbinary character is a nonhuman shapeshifter, you’re a huge turd.

Dig at She-ra again, this time aimed at the character of Double Trouble. 

One the one hand, yes there is a problem of non-normative genders being only in non-human characters, but Double Trouble was ground breaking in a lot of other ways. For example, they were a non-binary character who was voiced by a non-binary voice actor. 

Also, I wonder if Orchard realizes how much shape-shifting can be a power fantasy for someone who is non-binary. I’m non-binary, and I would love to have shapeshifting powers. 

19; If your only autistic character is an ethically challenged number fetishist, you’re a huge turd.

Three strikes at She-Ra. the target this time is Entrapta. 

I don’t think that she is canonically autistic. Anyone can feel free to correct me, but while Entrapta is written to be autistic-coded, i don’t believe it’s been stated anywhere that she is autistic. 

Pulling from Diregentleman again, but Orchard’s contempt here seems to be aimed at She-Ra for existing, as her favorite character on Steven Universe is reportedly Peridot, whom can also be described as an autistic-coded, ethically dubious number fetishist. 

While there is something of a point that most autistic characters in media do lean towards being mathematics savants (Mass Effect Overloard DLC, Rain Man, etc) the specificity of this complaint, and the personal insult, render any point to be derived from this nigh useless.

20: If your only black character is a volatile hyper angry brute, you’re a huge turd.

21: If the only black woman in your cast barely has any screen time except to be fetishized or its rule 20, you’re a huge turd.

What is this an attack at? Is this aimed at Star Wars? if it is, what Star Wars did you watch, because neither Finn or Lando could be described as “Hyper Angry” or “Brutes”. If this is a dig at She-Ra again, then uhhh.... there’s at least? 2 characters who are black. More than two even. 

And there are also at least two black ladies in She-Ra, if this is an attack on She-Ra. 

Like with earlier ones in this sub-set, the specificity and personal insults render it really hard to pull out the very true crumb of a salient point that is here. which is that if you only have one black character in your work and that black character is written in this highly stereotypical manner, then you need to do some self examination.

22: If the only trans woman in your cast is a Drag Queen in all but name, you’re a huge turd

Proof that Lily Orchard has never watched RuPaul’s Drag Race, and also that she has no knowledge of Drag culture at all. There are, after all, trans women who are Drag Queens: Gia Gunn, Kenya Michaels, Monica Beverly Hillz, Kylie Sonique Love, Jiggly Caliente, and more.

Of course, what Orchard likely means by “Drag Queen” is “Man in a Dress”. which is, frankly, insulting to the men, women, and nonbinary people who do wonderful artistic work in the world of Drag. However acknowledging that insult would require nuance, and social media - Twitter especially - is where nuance goes to die. 

73: The best way to avoid tokenism is multiple characters.

This point, and the fact that Orchard wrote it in as if it was something separate to the seven others that were presented at the beginning at her list, seems to prove that the other seven really were attacks at specific shows and specific characters, rather than the universal “tips” that she tried to hide them as. It also renders them all moot, because this is how you would write those earlier seven as a general writing tip: the best way to avoid stereotypical writing is to have multiple characters who could fall into a certain marginalized identity. For example,  have a group of gay men, one of whom could be described as a foppish diva, but also with many more who aren’t. or, if you do have only a single character who occupies a marginalized identity, then make sure that character is a fully realized person, and not just a quickly slapped together stereotype.

A wonderful example of this in the professionally published world i can think of of the top of my head is the “Society of Gentlemen” book series by K.J. Charles which is about a group of upper class men whom all are men who love and have sex with other men (some could be described as bisexual in modern language, but the series is set in the regency period in England). One character, Mr. Julius Norreys, is a foppish diva, primarily concerned with his clothing, and stinging others with his rapier wit, but in his own book - A Fashionable Indulgence - and the others, delve quite deeply into his character and history to show why he is how he is.    

Go read and be inspired.

[the-sympathetic-villain]

The Stowaway’s Heart: Chapter 7

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description:  Virgil is rescued by selkies after being abandoned at sea and brought back to their pod to recover. Virgil’s poor, gay heart may just explode from how attractive they all are.

Word Count: 8012

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of past abuse/neglect, Mentions of past control, Mentions of blood, Brief mention of spiders w/o detail, mentions of past abandonment, false accusations, mentions of blood, hypnosis-like trance, anxiety/panic, sexual innuendo, cuddling (Let me know if I missed anything!)

-

   “I didn’t do what they say I did.” Virgil murmured softly, not looking up from the desk. “I'd never hurt anyone.”

    Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Janus eyes darting from side to side, watching the air above him. “I know, Virgil. Why don't you tell me what happened?”

    Virgil crossed his arms, going limp in his chair. A familiar wetness fell down his cheeks and raised his wrist to wipe the tears away. “Is this part of the reading?”

    “No,” Janus leaned forward off the edge of the bed. “and even if it was, you don't have to tell me anything you don't wish to share. I'm asking you to tell me because I think it would benefit you to tell someone the truth.”

    Virgil looked up at him, eyes glistening as the lamplight flickered chaotically in them. Janus returned his ice-cold gaze with a smooth smile and tilted his head so his golden scar glistened in the amber light.

    “Perhaps, you would feel more comfortable if I shared my sob story first,” Janus opened his mouth with a dramatic pause, before looking to Virgil with a devilish grin. “Oh, that’s right. You already know my tragic, origin story.”

    Chewing his lip, Virgil crossed his arms as he petulantly looked away.  “I said I was sorry that they told me—”

     “—and I told you it wasn’t your fault.” Janus grinned, standing up off the bed to cross behind Virgil. “In all seriousness, I do not intend to hold the action of your lovers against you.”

    Virgil tensed. The feeling of being watched crawled up his neck as Janus circled around him. “Why bring it up then?”

    “Because I believe people find it easier to open up when they’re not the only one being vulnerable.” Virgil winced as Janus appeared on his far side. With a subtle flourish of his white pelt, he leaned against the edge of the desk to face Virgil.

    Virgil eyed him suspiciously. “You mean it's easier to pry into people’s minds when your being relatable.”

    Janus turned his nose up at the thought. “I'm not simply trying to manipulate your emotions so you’ll spill your secrets to me, Virgil.”

     “Then why am I here?” Virgil growled, crossing his arms tighter across his chest.

     Janus’ smooth expression faltered. He softened his voice, leaning closer. “Because you clearly need help, Virgil.”

     Virgil’s eyes flitted up to him cautiously, but he remained silent.

     “I don't expect you to give trust I haven't earned. So, let's build some rapport, Virgil.” Janus continued, nonchalantly tipping his head toward Virgil. “You've heard my tragedy. Would you like to hear my love story?”

    Virgil’s eyes narrowed in on him in confusion. “Why?”

     “My reasons for sharing will become apparent at the end of the story.” Janus grinned, letting the temptation hang over Virgil’s head for a moment before continuing. “I'm not exactly the touchy-feely sharing type like your lovers, so this may be your only opportunity to hear the story of how Roman and I met.”

     “Roman?”

     Janus' grin widened and Virgil clamped his mouth shut, realizing he'd taken Janus' bait.

     “Are you surprised?”

      Virgil furrowed his brow, casting his gaze toward the ground as he feigned disinterest. “I don’t know either of you particularly well. Why would I be surprised?”

       Janus smiled deviously down at Virgil as lifted his head. He stroked the white fur on shoulder, drawing out the moment as Virgil’s curiosity grew. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you wondered about Roman’s judgment. After all, even if he is my soulmate, he didn't have to settle for someone like me. Even if their pod had abandoned them, any other pod would have taken him in a heartbeat. He could have had his pick of anyone and h

     “He came after you?” Virgil leaned forward curiously as he looked up at Janus. “Like how?”

      “Yes, he, um—” Janus bit his lip with a fond smile. “You see, there places in the world where selkies meet during certain parts of the year. They meet on the beach and eat, drink—” Janus paused with a subtle smile. “—and mate.”

     Virgil grimaced, barely resisting the urge to stick his tongue out in disgust. “And you met Roman at one of these things?”

    “No.” Janus stared at the ground bitterly. “I would never have been allowed to participate in such events. I was barely allowed to see members of my own pod, let alone the member of others.”

    “Well, that's bullshit.” Virgil watched as Janus tilted his head up with surprise.

    Janus stared at him for a long moment and Virgil’s skin started to prickle as Janus' eyes danced over his body. Virgil shrank back into his chair, feeling vulnerable as Janus gaze lifted from his chest to his eyes.

    “You actually believe that."

    Virgil tightened his arms across his chest as he watched Janus wide-eyed look as he stared over Virgil’s shoulder. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Of course, I do.”

    Silence hung over them as Janus' movements stilled. He seemed to ponder Virgil’s words for a moment before returning to his story. He looked to the ground and his voice fell to a whisper. “Roman was at one of these gatherings when he overheard my podmates—my brothers—talking about leaving me behind. They were relieved—” Janus sighed. “—They were relieved to be rid of me.”

    “I'm sorry—”

    “Roman wasn't sorry. He was furious.” Janus smiled as he spoke. “I'm sure you've noticed he is particularly attached to his family.”

     Virgil scoffed. “I think that's an understatement.”

     “Well, apparently seeing mine treat me so poorly was quite the trigger for him.” Janus smiled. “He caused quite the scene he realized what my pod had done to me. If it weren't for Remus interceding, he may have actually torn them to shreds.”

     Virgil eyed him suspiciously. “I thought you said he wasn't the violent type.”

      “Well, to be fair, he didn't actually kill them,” Janus shrugged as a fond smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “and he really isn't prone to violence under normal circumstances.”

     Virgil raised an eyebrow at him and shook his head in a show of disbelief, but he was finding it difficult to ignore the sweet smile growing on Janus' face as he talked about Roman.

     “Roman dragged Remus miles out of their way to find me,” Janus sighed. “They could have done anything, but those fools chose to go after me.”

     “What about Logan?” Virgil leaned forward curiously.

     Janus glanced up at him with a shrug. “The four of them were only recently forced out on their own without their pod at that point. Patton was only a baby. Someone needed to stay with him and he was still only really used to Logan back then.”

     Virgil stared at him curiously. “So that's it? Roman and Remus went and fetched you. You realized you were soulmates and here you are?”

     A soft breath from Janus drew Virgil’s attention upward and he blinked, confused. Janus’ eyes were distant and his shoulders slumped as he continued to breath slowly. “It’s never  really that simple, is it?”

     Virgil watched as Janus drew a deep breath and looked up at him. “I didn’t know Roman was my soulmate until months after they rescued me.”

     “What?”

     “I was in a bad place, Virgil.”  Janus stared down at him seriously. “Years of isolation and neglect had left me raw with emotion and the barest touch nearly caused me to collapse on multiple occasions.”

    “I'm sorry.”

    Janus didn't look up at Virgil’s attempt to reassure them. “I never questioned that fate wasn’t real until I met Roman. Despite my ability to see the forces of the universe at work around us, it always seemed too cruel to be planned.” Janus paused, looking up at Virgil. “Yet, truly what are the chances that my soulmate happened to be in just the right place at just the right time to save me at a time when I was certain I was going to see the end of my life.”

    Virgil looked up at him and the knowing look in Janus' eyes gave him pause.

     “I have a theory, Virgil,” Janus mused as he crossed behind Virgil once more. “I don't think that soulmates' psychic connection begins at the first touch. I believe it merely becomes stronger. Whether it is by fate's design or not, I think our soulmate’s can tell when we are in danger of destroying ourselves.”

    Virgil tilted his head up to meet Janus' serious gaze. “I didn't exactly lock myself in that cell.”

    “Perhaps not,” Janus stopped just behind Virgil’s shoulder. “but you were ready to give up. Even now, you’re struggling to believe that's not what you deserved.”

    “Get out of my head.” Virgil muttered bitterly.

    “I don’t have to be in your head to see that's true, Virgil.” Janus sighed as he lowered himself on the bed to watch Virgil chewing anxiously on his lip at the desk. “Tell me what's going on, Virgil.”

     “I wasn’t even around when it happened.” Virgil dropped his gaze to the ground. “Everyone believed them, but I didn’t touch him.

     “It’s okay, Virgil.” Janus watched him carefully. “I believe you.”

    “The people I worked for—They were bad. I found out what they were doing and I think they—I think they hurt someone—"

     Janus leaned forward, watching as Virgil curled forward in his chair. “Why don't you started from the beginning, Virgil?”

     Virgil glanced up at him. He could feel tears welling in his eyes and he frowned as he forced his voice to remain steady. “I grew up in a home for kids who didn’t have any other place to go. It was a miserable place, but I survived. I'd been so close to just aging out when they sold me off. Gods, if only they let me go. I would have been better off on the streets—”

    Janus tensed, slowly reaching to pull Virgil’s hands away from where he was tugging anxiously at his own hair. When he spoke his voice had a edge to it that felt sharp enough to cut glass. “The home sold you?”

    “They placed me with a family of nobles for a price.” Virgil shrugged. “It worked out for both of them. The home didn't have to pay to take care of me anymore and the family that took me got cheap labor. At the time, even I thought it sounded like a good deal.”

    Janus frowned. “You were a child.”

    “Barely, and I needed the money to—” Virgil paused, glancing up at Janus suspiciously. “Whatever, I just needed the money and it seemed like a good deal so I agreed to it.”

    “But they were awful?”

     Virgil nodded slowly.

     “Why didn’t you leave, Virgil?”

     “I couldn’t. No one else in the city would risk their wrath to hire me. They barely paid me enough to get by, let alone save enough to leave the city,” Virgil paused. “I was trapped. Even when I finally became an adult, I was too indebted to them to ever be allowed to leave.”

     Janus sighed. “How are you here then?”

     “I stole from them.” Virgil’s voice was numb as he continued to stare down at the ground. “Nothing serious. Just medicine for a friend. I didn’t think they'd even notice.”

     Janus glanced down at Virgil trembling at the desk and looked up at him. “You’re safe here, Virgil.”

     Virgil ignored him, unable to stop himself from speaking. A weight seemed to lift off his shoulders as the words he'd been holding back fell from his lips. “Honestly, they may not have even noticed. They may have just decided I had outlived my usefulness.” Virgil sighed, looking up at Janus. “Either way, I tried to go back through the servant's quarters that night and there were soldiers waiting at the ready to arrest me.”

    Janus raised an eyebrow at him, casually leaning back against the wall with a guarded expression. “For stealing medicine?”

    “No. Something else happened that night. There was blood in the hallway.” Virgil bit his lip. “I—I think they killed someone and framed me.”

     A long pause hung between them before Janus cautiously broke the silence. “You don’t even know what you’re accused of?”

     Virgil stared into the distance, leaning his chair back as he balanced precariously. “Wanted posters were already going up when I hopped on the first ship out of there. I couldn’t afford to wait around and find out.”

     Janus stared at them in disbelief.  “And then you ended up on that ship?”

      Virgil nodded stiffly, crossing his arms and leaning his head down onto the desk. “It's all a blur from there. One of the crew caught me stealing food and they threw me in the brig. The ship was boarded that night—pirates probably. They killed the crew and they clearly didn’t know there was a bounty on my head or they probably would have taken me. As it was, they didn't even bother to kill me before fleeing the ship with their loot. They just left me to rot away.”

     “You know I've never gotten to say this without feeling hypocritical but you’ve got some pretty shit luck.” Janus stood up, absently pulling a small, black pouch out of his pocket.

     “Janus, I have to know.” Virgil exhaled sharply. “What are you going to tell them?”

     “Tell who?”

     “Don't play dumb, Janus. What are you going to tell Logan and Remus?” Virgil growled into his arms on the desk. “And Roman, for that matter, since he's made it clear that he’ll rip out my throat for even one false move.”

     Virgil glared at him, but Janus merely stared at him, dumbfounded. “Those lovers of yours truly don't share a single brain cell between them—”

     “Hey—” Virgil snapped, spinning around. He jolted in shock as he turned and Janus was inches from his face.

     “Relax,” Janus’ smooth expression  didn’t falter as Virgil bared his teeth at him. “I only mean that, while they were freely divulging unnecessary personal information about my life, they clearly neglected to convey to you the very relevant fact that everything you say here is private, Virgil.”

     Virgil blinked. “What?”

     “I'm not here to interrogate you and report back to Roman, Virgil.” Janus let out a stiff chuckle. “If posed an actual threat, perhaps —

     “I have a bounty on my head—”  Virgil snarled at Janus.

     “For a crime you didn’t commit,” Janus commented lazily, moving away from Virgil and dropping the black pouch on the desk in front of him. Virgil glanced up at the pouch before looking up at Virgil cautiously. “We’re selkies. Every one of us is worth a fortune, if we were found and captured. Your presence here is not any more of a threat than anyone else’s.”

     Virgil’s mouth hung agape with disbelief. “You really aren’t going to tell them?”

     “No,” Janus smiled patiently. “though you may consider telling them yourself.”

     “I will,” Virgil ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “I want to tell Logan and Remus—”

     “—but you don't trust Roman.” Janus supplied dryly, looking up at him.

     Virgil hesitated, hunching down nervously in his chair as Janus walked behind him. “I-I’m sorry, Janus. I know he's your soulmate, but he doesn’t like me—”

    “Well dear,” Virgil shivered as Janus finger dragged along his shoulder and his long fingers came to rest at the base of his neck. “That is simply not true.”

     “What—” Virgil froze as Janus’ grip tightened on the back of his neck. He shuddered, feeling the strength in Janus’ wrists. Virgil bared his teeth and hissed his next words compliantly in Janus grip. “I'm pretty sure Roman has considered murdering me every time he's seen me.”

    Janus leaned over his shoulder with a smirk. “You probably should have considered that before deciding to shove your tongue down his brother’s throat.”

     Virgil turned his head up to Janus cautiously. “How do you know—wait, brother?”

     Chuckling as Virgil swallowed nervously, Janus nodded. “Now, if you thought he was protective of Logan, you can only imagine how intense he gets regarding his own flesh and blood—”

     “Wait, I—I didn't know—" Stiffening, Virgil stared at Janus with wide eyes, feeling his heart speed up in his chest.

    Janus chuckled. His demeanor softened as his grip on Virgil loosened. “Relax, Virgil. I'm only teasing you. You’re not in any trouble. In fact, I daresay Roman might actually quite like you.”

    Virgil stared blankly at Janus.  “What?”

    “Don’t get me wrong. There was no lost love for you at first. He would have been glad to leave you to your own devices on that ship, but—” Janus held up a finger as Virgil bit his lip nervously. “—since your incident with our smallest podmate, his opinions of you are no longer so black and white.”

    “You mean Patton?” Virgil straightened upright, suddenly curious.

    “Roman has a sweet spot for the kid,” Janus nodded slowly. “and you made quite the impression on Patton. He won't stop talking about you.”

    Virgil smiled warmly at the thought and shrugged. “Kids tend to like me.”

    “You have experience with them?” Janus asked nonchalantly, staring into the space above his head.

    Virgil tensed, eyeing Janus suspiciously. “That’s none of your business.”

    A tense silence hung between them as Virgil remained silent, but Janus merely smiled, staring into the space around him. “Clearing your mind doesn't change what I see, Virgil. If anything, it makes it eas—”

    “Stop.” Virgil hissed. “Logan said you wouldn’t pry into anything I didn’t want you to and this is off limits. Otherwise, I’m ending this conversation.”

    Glancing up one last time, Janus forced his gaze down to meet Virgil, ignoring what he was seeing above his head. “Very well. The point of this experience is not for me to make you uncomfortable.”

    Virgil watched suspiciously as Janus leaned on the desk.

    “Selkie children are often more intuitive than adults,” Janus mused absently as he crossed his arms, staring at the ground. “Personally,  I believe it is because their magic is not fully concentrated into their pelt until it changes. They sense danger far quicker than adults. Human children are often similar. Are they not?”

    “Sometimes." Virgil cautiously stared at Janus, who seemed suddenly lost in thought.

    “Patton had no reservations about you, Virgil. In fact, he would have made more attempts to see more of you, but fortunately the child seems to respect my authority even when he disregards the others.” Janus lifted his head to Virgil with a curious look in his eyes. “Now, what do you think that says about you?”

    Virgil hesitated. He looked down, considering Janus words. “It says nothing about me.”

    Janus frowned, staring at him intently. “Roman believed you were a threat when Logan brought you here, but Patton’s reaction to you has given him pause. I think, given everything he’s seen of you, he’s beginning to doubt that you are actually a bad person.”

    Virgil sighed. “Well, he's wrong.”

    “I don't think he is, Virgil.”

    Virgil tensed, chin tucked into his chest as he muttered breathlessly. Guilt welled in his chest as his voice trembled. “A good person wouldn’t have hid the fact that there’s a hefty price on my head from the one person who seemed to care if I lived or died on that ship—”

    “Oh, please.”

    Virgil blinked, looking up at Janus as he interrupted him. “What?”

    Janus stared down at him seriously. “Any person with a shred of self-preservation would have recognized that sharing that information could have gotten you killed. You were only trying to survive, so spare me the pitiful display of self-indulgent self-deprecation.”

     Virgil stared blankly back at him for a moment, before his eyes darkened once more. “I healed to a point where dying wasn’t an immediate threat days ago. I had no excuse to continue to hide it from them.”

     “Oh really?” Janus replied dryly. “If you had been asked to leave, how long do you think you would have survived once we put you on a boat and shipped you off?”

    Virgil stared at him quietly.

     “Thought so. Your negativity towards yourself will not fly by me unchecked, Virgil.” A compassionate smile spread across Janus’ face as he paused. “You did the best you could, given the situation. No one was significantly at risk for your lies and you are alive.”

     “Whatever—” Virgil gritted his teeth and muttered before Janus interrupted him.

     “—and you shouldn’t be afraid to tell the people that are supposed to care about you that you’re in trouble—”

     “Well, I'm not afraid of them. I'm afraid of Ro—” Virgil spat defensively.

    “I will handle Roman.”

    “What?” Virgil looked up at him in shock.

     Janus stared intently at Virgil. “Roman will not bother you. You have my word that you can tell your lovers without retaliation from him.”

     Virgil watched Janus blankly for a moment as he absently picked up the black pouch he set on the desk earlier. He opened his mouth, nearly speechless as he spurted out the only word that came to mind.

    “Why?”

    Janus glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow at him. “I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific.”

    “Why are you being so nice to me?”

    A guarded expression stretched across Janus' face as tumbled the bag in his hands. The light sounds of stones tapping each other filled the silence as Janus stared at the ground. “I know what it's like to be a stranger here, Virgil. The other have known each other for years, and if I hadn't had Roman on my side, I don't think I would have ever gotten comfortable. You deserve that chance as we.” Janus paused with a subtle smirk. “Besides, I rarely meet people with as shit luck as myself, so I’m feeling the need to be generous.”

    Virgil couldn't help to small smile that curled on his lip as he stared at the ground. “Well, I appreciate the buffer. If it keeps him from killing me for a few more weeks, I suppose it's worth it.”

    “You might also begin considering you may live longer than the next few weeks.” Janus remarked dryly. “It would probably do your heart some good to start believing you’re safe.”

    “I'll consider it,” Virgil smirked, eyeing the pouch in Janus’ hand. “if we move this process along.”

     “Very well." Janus pulled his pelt off his shoulders, smiling as Virgil eyed the bag suspiciously. “Relax. It doesn't bite. Only I do that.”

    Virgil glared at him as Janus playfully bared his sharp teeth at him. “Forgive me for not being a fan of the idea of spilling even more of my secrets to someone I barely know.”

    “Oh, don't worry. The time for my questions is over.” Janus smiled coyly. “Now, it's time to see what the universe has planned for you."

    Virgil tapped his fingers, anxiously tracking Janus' movements in the corner of his eyes as the selkie pulled his bright, white pelt off his shoulders. “What if I'm not interested in what the universe has to say?”

    “Even if you aren’t, I am.” Janus stated dryly. “If something is coming our way, at least one of us should be on the lookout. So, I'm going to ask you to pull the stones anyway.”

    “Fine.” Virgil snarled, watching Janus carefully.

     “Are you ready?”

     “As ready as I'll ever be.” Virgil tensely turned forward.

    Virgil listened carefully as Janus stepped forward behind him. The familiar feel of the soft fur being placed on his shoulders sent shivers down his body. A strange tingling trickled down his shoulder as his energy seemed to drain from his body. He felt his eyes begin to close as his body relaxed.

    “Wait—” Virgil mumbled tiredly, barely managing to lift his hand in protest. Janus hushed him and he felt a hand rest on his own, stopping his mild resistance.

    “You’re safe with me, Virgil.”

    Janus' soft whisper faded, one last sound as his vision darkened.

-

    “Alright, my new friend.” Janus whispered, watching Virgil sway as his eyes glazed over. “Let's see what the universe has to say about you.”

    Janus dropped the small black pouch on the desk in front of Virgil and stepped back, crossing his arms. “Virgil, please reach into the bag and pull the stones that speak to you out of the bag. Spread them out on the desk however you see fit.”

    The disoriented man slowly reached out and dipped his hand into the pouch. Janus absently looked away, staring into the gaslight as he waited for Virgil to stop moving.

    A sharp crack sent Janus' head spinning back to Virgil. Janus rushed back to him, frantically looking for injuries. He could see no apparent injury as he swayed back and forth, stones spread on the desk in front of him. Curiously, he turned down to view the spread as waves of energy radiated off then sending shudders down his body.

    Spread out on the table were four jet-black stones. Symbols etched in gold on each piece glimmered in the firelight as it flickered chaotically in the gas lamp. His mouth hung open as he found himself staring at the final stone.

    “Virgil, what happened?”

    The small piece of obsidian was cracked down the center, splitting the gilded symbol down its center.

    “The Elder Futhark has spoken,” Janus whispered, tipping his head in reverence to the stones before returning his gaze nervously to Virgil sitting mesmerized in his chair.

    A soft, purple haze shifted slowly around the man's body. The gently moving aura was beautiful, but the dark streaks of black radiating from the man's chest unsettled Janus, stark indicators of the battle raging in the man's heart. He glanced down, running a finger along the edge of the broken stone.

    “Wunjo, the rune of kinship.” Janus ran his finger over the broken symbol. “You’ve lost someone—or given the situation, perhaps you believe by staying here, you’re giving them up.”

   Janus tilted his head up as Virgil groaned. An uncomfortable expression crossed the man's face as he began to shift, resisting the pelt. Janus patiently rested his hand on Virgil’s, whispering quietly. “Relax, my friend. I am not going to pry any further, but I am—I am sorry for your loss.”

    Virgil seemed to relax, dipping his head to his chest. Janus’ heart clenched at the sight of wet streaks tracing down Virgil’s face. He gently rubbed his thumb along Virgil’s wrist as he turned back to the stones. “Let's finish this quickly, Virgil. I don't think it's best to leave you in this headspace for too long.”

    He turned his eyes to the stones. The first stone in the series caught his eye. “The Dagaz, the rune of awakening.” Janus sighed, staring at the black streaks radiating from Virgil’s chest. “Light and dark struggle for balance within you. You are on the precipice of great change, but only if you choose to let the darkness go. If, not, the guilt you’re feeling may well eat you alive."

    Virgil winced, subconsciously recoiling as the black streaks swirled menacingly around his heart. Janus squeezed his hand, smiling at Virgil “It won't be easy, but we'll help you quiet the storm inside your heart.”

     “The Dagaz is paired with the Uruz, the rune of survival and endurance.” Janus stared intently at the rune’s stark shape as he ran his fingers over the engraving. “There’s no surprise that Uruz appeared. Surviving is all you've been able to do for the past few weeks.”

    “And finally, the Nauthiz,” Janus stared absently at the final rune. The room darkened for a moment as a breeze drifted through the room, nearly blowing out the gas lamp in front of them. “The rune of friction.” He sighed, heart aching as he stared at the dark circles   around Virgil’s eyes as his arms hung wearily at his sides. “This conflict isn't over. Your past is going to find you one last time."

    A soft squeeze of Virgil’s hand sent shivers down his body. He looked up to see Virgil’s eyes cracked open. Fear flickered in his eyes as he leaned forward. Janus gasped as Virgil collapsed forward. He lunged forward, catching Virgil’s chest with his hand.

    “Breathe, Virgil. I've got you."

    He quickly slipped an arm under Virgil’s legs and behind his neck. Janus lifted his light frame out of the chair, carrying him to the bed.

     “You do not need to fear, Virgil. We’re going to help you survive whatever is coming.” Janus whispered, setting Virgil on the bed next to him. “I'm going to save you some stress and let you forget this, Virgil. Please, let me bear this for you.”

    A choked sound escaped Virgil as he leaned into Janus' shoulder, hands tightening on Janus’ shirt. Janus arms curled around him and his eyes glowed a fierce amber as he hovered protectively over Virgil.

    “You are safe here.” Janus whispered, a deep magic flowing through his body. “If you trust me, leave these memories with me so you may continue to heal unhindered.”

    A sharp gasp escaped him as Virgil relaxed in his arms. “Thank you for your confidence, Virgil. I'm going to take back my pelt now, and waking may be rough, but I'm here. I’m not going anywhere.”

    Janus clutched him protectively as he  pulled the pelt from Virgil’s shoulders, heart aching as Virgil grasped at his shirt.

    “I'm so sorry, Virgil.”

-

    I'm drowning.

    Virgil gasped for air, clutching absently at the space around him as he struggled, unable to move. Through his fighting, he could feel air slowly filling his lungs as he squirmed uncomfortably, pulling at the soft fabric in his hands. Slowly, the fear abated as he was able to draw a long breath and started to become aware of his surroundings. He sucked in a sharp breath, looking up.

    “Janus?”

    The grip around his shoulders loosed as Janus looked down at him with a soft smile. His gilded scar glimmered beautifully as Virgil found himself staring.

     “Virg—”

     Loud footsteps from the corridor abruptly stopped Janus’ statement in his tracks. They both turned their heads up at the sound of metal creaking to see Remus burst through the door with Logan shortly on his heels. They rushed forward anxiously and their anxious expressions seemed to settle as Virgil looked up at them from where he was curled in Janus' arms. Remus relaxed slightly, locking eyes with Janus.

    “Jannie, what happened?”

    A shadow of movement at the door caught Virgil’s eye as Roman stepped through the doorway with a sleeping Patton hanging off his shoulder. Roman’s eyes flitted carefully over Janus before turning to stare at Virgil. Feeling the burn of Roman’s eyes, Virgil instinctively pulled back from Janus’ shoulder, swaying as he sat upright.

    “The—” Janus looked down as Virgil pulled away from him before tracing his gaze to Roman. Virgil watched Roman’s expression soften as Janus turned to him and a gentle smile spread across his face. Janus paused, hesitating before turning up to Remus to continue. “The reading hit a nerve and waking was a bit uncomfortable for our new friend.”

    “I-I’m fine.” Virgil frowned as his voice cracked. He straightened upright, trying to force his breathing to slow as he tried to force the attention off of himself.

    “Love, you've been crying.”

    Virgil turned to Logan's concerned expression. He flushed red as he reached a hand to his face, feeling wetness on his  cheeks. He dipped his head, muttering to Janus as he wiped the tears from his face. “It’s nothing. I told you the universe never has anything good in store for me.”

    “Well, perhaps never is rather strong assertion, my dear.”

    Virgil tilted his head up to see Remus and Logan watching him sheepishly for a response. Adrenaline jolted through his body as he realized what Logan was implying. “That’s not—No! I’m sorry. You guys are good—so good—”

     Remus raised and eyebrow at him with a devious smirk. “Do you hear that, Lolo?”

     Virgil turned to Remus as he stumbled over his words. His mustache twitched playfully as he stepped toward Virgil.

     “We’re good."

     Virgil shivered as he traced Remus' gaze to over to Logan. Logan blinked for a moment before straightening slowly, flashing a sultry grin at Virgil. “Oh, Re. That is simply unacceptable.”

     “I know, right?” Virgil tensed with anticipation as Remus abruptly stepped forward, wiggling his eyebrows. “We're a god damn delight.”

    “Wait, I didn’t—” Virgil held his hands up in surrender as Remus seductively punctuated his words with steps toward him, barely containing his giggling as he crept forward.

    “We're an absolute treat, Re.” Logan smiled coyly as he stalked toward Virgil, his piercing eyes locked onto him. “I think perhaps Virgil needs a reminder of how lucky he is to have both of us.”

    “—and I'm out.”

    Casting nervous glances at his soulmates as they closed in on him, Virgil reached a hand out as Janus casually pushed himself up off the bed. “Wait, Jan—”

    Virgil’s plea was abruptly cut short as Remus’s shoulder connected with his back and his face unceremoniously landed on the soft blanket in front of him. His grunt was muffled as Remus wrapped his hands around his waist. Remus let Virgil roll to his side as he curled around Virgil’s back. Virgil grimaced, letting his hair fall over his hair as he tried to hide his smile. The gentle pressure of Remus' chest pressed against his back was comforting and his breath caught in his throat.

     Remus pulled him closer tipping Virgil back until he was almost laying on top of Remus. His gentle breaths on his neck sent pleasant shudders down Virgil’s body. A soft gasp escaped him as Remus cradled his chin into the nook of his shoulder.

    Fuck.

    Virgil closed his eyes, flushing with embarrassment at his reaction. He groaned, muttering into the blankets as Remus squeezed him. “What are you trying to prove?”

     “Oh, gloomy boy.” Remus purred into his ear, giggling as Virgil sucked in a sharp breath as Remus breathed on his neck. Virgil nodded stiffly could almost hear Remus smile as he whispered in his ear. “I'm just the distraction."

     Fingertips brushed his cheek and Virgil jolted, his eyes shooting open. Virgil’s heart pounded in his chest as he stared into Logan’s eyes, inches from Virgil’s face. Logan paused, resting his hand on Virgil’s cheek. He waited for Virgil to relax before resting his knee on the edge of the bed as he leaned over Virgil.

    Fuck.

    “Lo—” Virgil whispered breathlessly closing his eyes as Logan’s lips brushed his own.

     “Oh, Lolo.” Remus giggled. “You stole his breath away.”

      Logan chuckled as Virgil shivered. He reached his hand around Virgil’s next “Tell me, love. Do you still feel unlucky?”

    Virgil swallowed, tasting Logan’s breath. Emotions welled in his chest at his soulmates’ efforts to distract him. He relaxed into Remus, feeling grateful for their gentle attention as he whispered. “No.”

    “Good, love.” Logan smiled, leaning back as Virgil leaned into his hand.

    “Thank you.” Virgil smiled at Logan as the man stared adoringly down at him. He sighed with relief as he relaxed into his soulmates’ touch.

     Remus giggled and Virgil smiled as Remus squeezed tightly around his waist. “If you needed for us to get you all hot and bothered, all you needed to do was ask—”

     Virgil tensed at the sound of Roman clearing his throat across the room.

    “Do remember there is a child in the room, Remus.” Janus' familiar drawl filled the air. “The last thing any of us need is to have Patton parroting your filthy mouth.”

    “Kid's knocked the fuck out—”

    “Remus—”

    Virgil tensed as Roman's growl filled the air. Logan slowly straightened upright, giving him a clear view of Roman across the chest. Remus pushed himself up allowing Virgil to sit up timidly. He shrank behind Logan as he stared at Patton curled into Roman’s chest. Janus hooked an arm around Roman' waist from behind him, resting his head on Roman’s shoulder as his chest pressed to Roman's back. Virgil could almost smile as the intimidating selkie’s expression softened as he looked over at Janus with adoration.

    “Patton’s heard worse coming from you two than me—” Remus pressed, jumping up off the bed.

     Janus rolled his eyes as Remus approached. “All of Roman and I's displays of affection in front of Patton have been perfectly tasteful.”

    “Yeah,” Remus giggled, leaning close to Janus. “If by tasteful, you mean tasting the inside of Roman's mouth—”

     Remus abruptly stopped his mocking as Patton shifted subtly in Roman’s arms. Patton’s soft murmur stopped all movement in the room as he lifted his head. Remus smiled at Roman before leaning close to brush Patton’s hair out of his face. “Hey, Pattoncake. Did you have a good nap?”

     Patton nodded tiredly as he absently reached up to grab Roman’s collar.

    Roman smiled. “Are you ready to go to bed, my little hero?”

     “No, I'm ‘kay.” Patton protested weakly, pushing his head off Roman’s chest as he looked around, blinking wearily.

     “I think it's probably best we get you—”

    Virgil looked up as Roman gasped loudly.

    “Vee!”

    Virgil couldn’t help but smirk at Roman’s shocked expression as Patton hung halfway out of his arms, squirming to get down. Roman kneeled, trying to lessen the fall as Patton slipped from his hands. Patton started to bolt forward, only making it a few steps forward before Janus' voice stopped him in his tracks.

   “Patton, that wasn't very nice.”

   Virgil watched as Patton hesitated, clearly aching to run towards him, but surprisingly he turned and hung his head. “I'm sorry, Jannie."

    “Don't apologize to me. Apologize to Roman. He's the one you scared halfway to death when you decided to jump off his chest.” Janus smirked at Roman, who rolled his eyes with a soft smile.

    “Sorry, Roro.” Patton kicked his feet at the ground impatiently before looking up at Janus. “Can I go see Vee now?”

    Janus raised an eyebrow at him.

    “Please?” Patton pleaded, fidgeting with anticipation.

     Virgil couldn’t help but shrink back as Roman looked up at him. The expression on his face was unreadable as he stared at Virgil.

    “Ask permission before you smother him, Patton. "

    Janus smiled as Patton turned, beaming as he bolted over to Virgil. Virgil smiled as Patton approached. He was excited to see the kid again, though he couldn’t seem to keep from nervously glancing up at Roman's intense stare as Patton stopped at the edge of the bed.

    “May I come up there?”

    Virgil smiled, heart warm at the obvious excitement in his eyes. “You want to sit with me?”

    Patton nodded vehemently, leaning his arms over the edge of the bed.

    Glancing up at Roman staring at him, he hesitated. He looked to Roman's gaze for permission, but his face remained unreadable. A slight frown formed on Virgil’s face as he turned back to Patton. “Listen, kiddo, maybe not this time, but—”

    “It's okay, Virgil.” Janus’ voice drew Virgil’s gaze up. He watched as Roman’s eyes slowly turn to Janus before returning to him, his face unreadable.

    “I—”

    “If you’re okay with Patton joining you on the bed, I promise you it's fine.” Janus smiled encouragingly at him and Virgil looked to Roman. The man's intense stare continued, but he nodded stiffly at Virgil.

    “Okay, kiddo.” Virgil turned to Patton with a nervous smile. “Come on up then.”

    He watched as Patton scrambled up the edge of the bed. Excitedly, he slid in next to Virgil, curling underneath his arm as he yawned. “Guess what, Vee?”

    Virgil’s skin prickled with awareness as all eyes in the room turned toward him, but he smiled watching Patton cuddle comfortably against his chest. “What?”

    “I scared all the spiders away.” Patton muttered quietly.

    Virgil smirked. “Oh yeah? How did you do that?”

    “I yelled real loud.” Patton yawned again, snuggling into Virgil’s shoulder.

    “And that worked?”

    “I was smart. I did it at their bed time so they were extra scared,” Patton mumbled, eye drooping. “I made sure to run through the whole tunnel so I got ‘em all.”

    “If you’re the spookiest thing in the room, nothing can touch you,” Virgil chuckled. “and it sounds like you've got that mastered, kiddo.”

    Patton nodded into his chest, reaching an arm across and mumbled. “I even scared Roro.”

    “Running down the halls screaming like a banshee in the middle of the night would chill anyone to the bone, Pat."

    Virgil looked up, relaxing at the soft smile on Roman's face as he crossed his arms, watching Patton drifting off on Virgil’s shoulder. He'd almost relaxed when Roman's eyes flicked to him, noticing him staring. Immediately, Virgil dropped his gaze from Roman, feeling his heart beat in his chest.

    “I think it's time we take him to bed.” Glancing down at the child snoring lightly under his arm, he nodded, feeling reluctant to let the child go so soon.

    “Good. Take him,” Remus cooed.  Virgil looked up to see Remus jostle Roman with his shoulder as he grinned wildly down at Virgil. “because we’ve got places to take our boy too.”

    Virgil looked up at Remus. “What?”

    “Well yeah,” Remus smirked at him. “Lolo and I have something planned for your first night of freedom. You didn't think we were just going to leave you in here again tonight, did you?”

    “I mean, I didn’t—” Virgil started before wincing as Roman’s deep growl interrupted him.

     “Remus—”

     “What, Ro? That was the deal, wasn’t it?” Remus instinctively stepped between him and Virgil. “He jumped through all your hoops. Is he free to go or not?”

     Roman held his ground as Remus leered at him, staring Remus down. “Me allowing him to be free to roam the island does not mean you get to ignore the rest of the rules. Where are you planning on going, Remus?”

     “We're not going to the beach, Roman.” Logan’s voice was almost timid as he interrupt. “Remus and I are not intending on taking any risks.”

     Virgil stared at him in disbelief. His demeanor was uncharacteristically solemn, almost apologetic as he looked up at Roman. Virgil watched as Roman hesitated, looking down at Logan with concern in his eyes.

     “Let them go, Roman.”

     Roman turned to Janus, staring for a moment before returning his gaze to Remus. “Promise me you’ll stay off the beaches and out of sight.”

     “I'm not an idiot—” Remus protested with a snarl.

     “Promise me now, Remus, or I'm not allowing it.”

     “Chill out.” Remus sighed dramatically, though Virgil couldn't help noticing Remus take a step backwards respectably as he conceded to Roman’s authority. “We're only going to the rocks. We will not leave the tunnels.”

     Virgil felt a chill travel up his spine as Roman continued to stare at Remus without blinking.

     “I promise, Ro.” Remus grinned reassuringly, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I'm not going to take any chances tonight.”

     “Very well. You may go.” Roman’s stern gaze softened and a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. He turned his head, barely concealing his smile with a stern look. “Virgil?”

     Virgil jumped at the sound of his name, looking up at Roman. He shivered as Roman turned to him. “Yes?”

     “You are free to explore the island.” He paused as Virgil nodded nervously. “However, I expect either Remus or Logan to accompany you—”

     Roman paused, holding up a finger as Remus and Logan began to protest. He flashed a stern look at both of them and waited until they settled uneasily before turning back to Virgil. The hair on Virgil’s arms raised as Roman's stern expression landed on him.

     “This is for your safety as much as everyone else. There are rules I expect you to follow, if you are to stay here, and Remus and Logan will be responsible for showing you the ropes. Is that agreeable?” He waited for Virgil to nod stiffly before looking to Logan and Remus. “And I will hold both of you responsible, if he breaks them under your watch. Got it?”

    Remus growled petulantly but nodded in agreement.

    “We accept your terms, Roman.” Logan nodded, compliantly, watching Virgil’s nervous demeanor as he gave Roman his affirmation.

    “Once you are on your own, you will be responsible for your own mistakes.” Roman paused as Virgil dropped his gaze to the ground and nodded. “I will not treat you differently than anyone else here, but know that these rules are in place to keep everyone here safe and I do not take transgressions of them lightly.”

    Virgil bit his lip and nodded, submissively dropping his gaze.

    “And Virgil?”

    He lift his head slowly, surprised to see an encouraging smile spread across Roman's face. Virgil blinked in disbelief, looking to Logan and Remus uncertainly before turning back to Roman.

    “Please, allow yourself to relax. I'm not your enemy.” Roman smiled as Virgil stared at him blankly. “I know we had a rough start, and I apologize. My personal biases nearly cost you your life and I intend to begin to rectify my mistake by making this transition as easy for you as I can.”

   Virgil blinked, nearly speechless with shock. “What?”

    Roman paused and started to step forward. He approached slowly, giving Virgil a chance to object as he moved towards him. Smiling gently, he leaned over the bed. Virgil watched him as he slipped his hands under Patton’s arms and lifted the child up to his shoulder. Patton’s hand grasped around Virgil’s shirt for a moment before relaxing as Remus pulled him away. Roman stilled above him for a moment as Patton murmured sleepily into his chest. Virgil found himself staring at the soft look in Roman's eyes as he waited for him to continue.

    “I only wanted to keep everyone safe. I'm sorry.” Roman paused, looking up from Patton. “You have a place here, Virgil, if you choose to stay.”

    Virgil’s eyes flicked to Janus, but the look of surprise on his face immediately ruled out the possibility of psychic intervention as a result of the spiritually sensitive selkie. He looked back to Roman’s earnest smile, blinking in disbelief that Roman had just apologized to him of his own free will.

     “T-thank you.” He managed to mutter, still blinking in shock.

    “You’re welcome. Enjoy your night, Virgil.” Roman smiled before glancing at Logan and Remus. “and stay safe. All of you.”

    Virgil stared blankly at Roman as he indicated him with the others.

    What the fuck just happened?

    He shivered and watched as Roman turned away from him, carrying Patton towards the door. Roman nodded for Janus to follow him and the scarred man smirked, rolling his eyes as Roman passed him by. The subtle gold on Janus face glimmered as he gave Virgil a quick nod before taking his cue to follow Roman, leaving Virgil alone with his soulmates.

    “Love?”

    Virgil took a deep breath, trying to abate the shock in his chest as he looked up to see Logan looking over his shoulder at him at the end of the bed. He watched as Logan held his hand out to Virgil with a cocky smirk.

    “Are you ready to see the island, dearest?”

    His eyes drifted up to the eager look in Remus' eyes as he stood by the door before turning back to Logan’s confident smile. Virgil smiled, heart light as he nodded and took Logan’s hand. An excited breath caught in his throat as he allowed himself to be pulled off the bed and dragged to the door as they stumbled out into the tunnels.

-

General Taglist:

@somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck

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@alias290 @lonelyanxiousbean @kieraelieson @evoodo123 @dndnerd1609 @lovesupernova25 @minninugget @ace-in-a-shopping-cart @trainwreckwithlimbs @i-apparently-exist @rachetssearch @twilight-trix @evelyn-nova @sluggerbot-2-5 @chronicallynervouschild @arsenicdragon @so-what-if-im-crazy @slutty-cinammon-roll @inferiorfilth @eeveeelair246 @bluerosesbleedred @maybedefinitely404 @dwbh888

[alarrytale]

I think your harrie anon forgot how bad Harry’s shows were in USA where he did residencies. He looked bored and exhausted, the same robotic moves and speeches with emotionless face. I saw several bad reviews and posts from harries who expected more from his shows. Some people were even saying that he faked playing his guitar.

I hate to compare HL but I went to see them both (in europe) and their vocals were absolutely fine at my shows, my gp friends who even didn’t know louis before also enjoyed the show. The only thing which I think Louis needs to improve is his stage presence, he is way to stiff. (And I personally would appreciate if he wouldn’t swear that much)

Hi, anon!

The constant comparisons can be exhausting, especially when you know they didn’t have an even playing field and still don't. Yes, they have different strengths and weaknesses, but it's like some people find it incomprehensible that other people might favour someone other than Harry. Either when it comes to music, sound, voice or image etc. Harry isn't perfect and has got his weaknesses too.

Louis has loads of different things he needs to improve on as an artist and performer. Most things i believe can be attributed to his low self-esteem, self-disipline as not not appear gay, bad coping mechanisms and fake image. Sony is a major contributing factor to the current state of Louis. On top of that he's had some personal losses and some shit luck. So he is struggling.

The stiffness is due to low self-esteem and self-disipline. He's constantly self-concious and in his own head. Did i accidentally sway my hips when i turned, did my wrist look limp, did i giggle too much? The out of breath is due to too much cigarette smoking, lack of stamina and nervousness. So a bad coping mechanism that started during 1D because of Sony and insecurity that Sony instilled in him. Forgetting lyrics is due to his stoner brain and pointing it out is a part of his indie image. A shit image he adopted to set himself apart from H who he couldn’t compete with and, and an image to make him appear straight because Sony gave him bg. His stoner brain is due to him wanting to numb the pain and forget the shit he's going through. So another bad coping mechanism. He's in a vicious circle and i hope there is a way out of it where he comes out on top.

[god-touched-monsters]

☀︎ @singinghands ✭ cont. ☾

This was a test, one Issith had chosen. Having to lean so heavily on Allen and to some extent now Martin every time they left home to stock up on food and supplies they couldn't get from the waters they lived on and in wasn't permanently feasible.

He had to adjust, had to find some equilibrium and comfort around humans. So today he had asked to be taken to a small bakery that was on the way to their current closest town's grocery store and dropped off.

What Issith didn't expect was the constant noise, the in and out of unfamiliar humans that slowly but surely built up the familiar stress he had been living with ever since his not entirely legal release from the tank that had been his prison for almost too long.

Having parked himself in the corner away from the door at least he had that measure of privacy, but it meant escape was more difficult as well. With each new voice adding to the more and more difficult to parse soup of sound around him, he had been getting more and more agitated. Drumming his fingers on his covered fin, the table in front of him, the stares resulting from his fidgeting made his skin crawl even more than it already was.

He looks to the door, trying to force himself through the process of figuring out the quickest route to leave and find Allen again when one of the women who had been behind the counter suddenly appears in front of him. Reflexively Issith jerks back in his chair, teeth bared in clear warning even as she speaks. The words don't make sense, not right now, but she was close enough to block his view of the rest of the patrons. In an odd way, that helped.

Sonny plonked a huge coffee cup down on the table, so she could point at her face with both hands, “Pretty isn’t it!”

Her eye shadow was done in a pastel sunset and on her cheeks where sea shells and starfish with tiny pearl like beads glued on the corners of her eyes. Even her lips were on ocean theme, a shimmering teal-blue.

“I figured you’d appreciate it since,” Sonny winked and did the limp wrist ‘gay’ gesture, though that wasn’t really what she meant, not wanting to directly call out her fellow mer. Doing a little twirl that made her skirt flare out over her leggings, Sonny added, “Can I get you anything, by the way, or need someone to chat with? Can be really lonely, sitting here my yourself,” she tapped her chin thoughtfully, “but some people like that. Still, I wanna put a smile on that face if I can, even if that’s calling you a ride to help you home. Okay?” she smiled brighter yet, if that was possible, “So whatever you need, even if that’s just me being quiet!”

[yeeharley]

70 with parkner please🥺🥺

I gotchu,,, and lemme just say I saw your tags on my other prompt fic and melted thanks very much <3

70: You’re warm

Word Count: 1,235

Warnings: copious amounts of fluff

⭒

Statistically, the coldest winter on record for New York City recorded is negative fifty-two degrees Fahrenheit (negative forty-six-point-seven degrees Celcius). It had been taken in February of 1934 and matched in February of 1979. Car windows shattered. Milk froze on the way home from the store.

In negative fifty-two degree weather, you can receive frostbite within just five minutes of exposure.

Peter feels like this winter could beat that record into the ground and set up its gravestone without breaking a sweat.

He’s literally freezing his ass off. His curls are so close to frozen that they crunch when he reaches up to brush them out of his face. His eyelashes feel more like icicles. Every moment that his eyes are open against the biting cold is another moment in which he fears losing his vision.

It’s so cold.

So, so cold.

Okay, so maybe not that cold. He might be exaggerating a little bit. 

Just a little bit.

It’s mid-December in New York City, hovering in the low thirties. The temperature barely fluctuates from day to day, leaving the city in a perpetual state of waiting for some Christmas snow. Peter’s sure there’ll be some by the next week if the weather reports are being honest.

As much as he’d love some snow, he’s dealing with some issues that had come with a certain spider bite, and he would prefer to avoid freezing his extremities off before January starts.

Put simply, Peter can’t thermoregulate properly. At all. His powers just won’t permit it, and it’s the only side effect that makes him wish he’d never been bitten.

He gets way too hot in the summers. Sweats right through his t-shirts and feels absolutely disgusting for hours on end. The suit isn’t very well ventilated, despite being made by Tony Stark, and that means that it sticks to his skin as he peels it off after missions.

It’s disgusting.

But if summers are bad, winters are much, much worse. Yeah, sweating sucks. It’s gross. Heatstroke is a constant danger.

But being perpetually cold? Shivering under layers of hoodies and sweatshirts and still having to function? Knowing that, no matter how many shirts you put on, you won’t be able to keep the cold at bay?

Yeah. That really sucks.

Plus, there’s always the danger of hypothermia, and Peter falls into way too many lakes for a newly-nineteen-year-old college student to tolerate.

Coming back to his dorm and having to avoid his really hot, really Southern roommate while shivering his ass off in freezing-cold, soaking wet spandex? 

It’s awful.

So. To reiterate. Peter Parker hates winter with a passion and a vengeance.

And now he’s dripping water from the East River all over Colombia’s carpeted dormitory hallways, and he’s going to get some kind of infraction or something from this, and someone is definitely going to question why Spider-Man is limping around in a college housing division. 

“Oh, thank God,” Peter mutters, teeth chattering harshly beneath his mask as he turns another corner and makes it to the familiar door that leads to his dorm room (and Harley’s, but he’s way too cold to be thinking about that particular issue right now).

His hands are shaking so much that he can hardly pull his lanyard out of his suit pocket. It takes three tries for him to get the key into the lock and another thirty seconds to turn it in the right direction.

He’s not being nearly as careful as he should be. If anyone were to see him right now, it would take almost no time for them to connect the dots- Spider-Man lives in room 18 in dorm building 3. Harley Keener and Peter Parker live in room 18 in dorm building 3. Harley Keener is over six feet tall. Peter Parker is under six feet tall. Spider-Man is under six feet tall.

Bam. Identity outed. Crisis time.

But he’s too tired and cold to be careful.

Peter stumbles into the dorm, slamming the door behind himself as he checks to make sure that, yes, Harley’s bed is empty. Yanking his suit off, he pulls a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie out of the nearest dresser before collapsing into bed, barely shoving his suit under the floor-length curtains.

He passes out immediately without checking whose bed he’s in.

⭒

Harley walks into his dorm room with his backpack slung over one shoulder and immediately spits his iced coffee into the nearest trash can.

Peter Parker is asleep in his bed. 

“Oh,” he says dumbly, setting his bag down on his desk and trying to hide the strawberry blush on his cheeks. Considering the chill outside, he’s feeling- yeah, he’s feeling very warm right now.

So gay. You’re so gay, Keener.

It’s no secret Peter is attractive. You’d have to be blind not to recognize that- or at least, Harley’s always thought that. And he’s definitely not blind.

There’s just something about his smile and the way his hair curls around his ears that happens to be so insanely endearing that Harley could never avoid noticing it. He’s sweet, and smart, and easygoing in a way that makes everyone want to be around him.

And, apparently, he looks very good in Harley’s clothes.

He doesn’t know why, but Peter seems to have grabbed his Thrasher hoodie and a pair of his joggers that he’d left on top of his dresser. The hoodie dwarfs him, drooping over his hands, and Harley’s joggers bunch up around his ankles with a few extra inches of fabric.

Harley presses a hand to his mouth, trying to hide the stupid smile that he knows is spread across the bottom half of his face, and moves quietly across the room. Peter looks like he’d collapsed on top of his bed; he’s lying across his covers instead of under them. From the way he’s curled in on himself, Harley can tell he’s shivering.

His hair looks wet. 

“What’d you do?” Harley grumbles as he gently lifts Peter up and resituates him, pulling the covers over his legs and then up to his neck. “Go for a swim in the middle of winter?”

He doesn’t receive an answer. There is, however, a sudden vice around his wrist- Peter’s hand?- that yanks him down onto the bed and pulls him close.

He’s stronger than he looks, apparently.

Harley stares down at the brown-haired boy, eyes wide as he burrows further into his chest. He must be asleep- after all, why else would he be doing this? He couldn’t actually like Harley, right?

Right?

This is taking advantage, Harley thinks, gritting his teeth and trying to pull away. You’re taking advantage of him and you need to stop.

But Peter has managed to attach himself very firmly to Harley’s front, and it doesn’t seem like he’s about to let go.

“Hey, darlin’,” Harley croons, inching backward as much as he can without falling off of the bed. “Gotta wake up, Peter.”

Peter doesn’t wake up, but he does tighten his grip and huff out a quiet sigh.

“You’re warm,” he mumbles before burying his face in Harley’s chest and pulling him closer.

Harley’s chest is filled with some kind of happiness that he hasn’t felt in years. He smiles and, bending down, presses a gentle kiss to Peter’s left eyebrow before closing his eyes and snuggling in, burying his nose in Peter’s curls.