#pride month writing challenge

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

alcoholism fairies and bad decisions

drunk dean calls to tell cas they're going to end up together. eventually. wc: 2k

"Hi, hic , Cas."

Castiel, on his end of the call, puts his mug down on the counter. Icy cold coffee, with froth on the top. If Dean hadn't called him out of the blue, he would probably have sent him a picture of it in guise of documentation - or, well, to get him to tell him how much he wished to be there and drink it with him. If Dean hadn't called him drunk, he would at least have asked him to wait until he took a picture, with the froth all perfect and frothy. 

Given the circumstances, however, he sits down, and nets his eyebrows in a frown. 

"Dean? You okay?" 

Drunk calls weren't that rare, but they were usually pre-planned. Or at least, you know, he’s aware Dean’s drinking when it happens. 

"Oh!" Dean says, voice too bright and too loud. It’s like he’s somewhere that’s making it echo. "Of course. I'm drunk." 

"I can tell." Cas rolls his eyes, for absolutely no one's benefit. His coffee grows warmer, untouched. "Where are you?"

A hum resounds. "So - it's not my room. I can tell that much." 

"What the -” Cas swears under his breath. “Who're you with?" 

"Friends." Dean says, dismissively. "I'm safe, it's all safe. Familiar faces. I just came away for a bit because I wanted to talk to you." 

At that, Cas finally lightens. Stirs his cup (still admiring). "Uh-huh?" 

Friends wouldn't be enough to describe what they were. And yet - it was what either of them would've said. Rather, convinced themselves to say. 

They were the video-call-at-three-am, watch-the-worst-movie-known-to-man, a-football- match-just-afterwards-where-they-root-for-the-wrong-team and go-to-bed-consoling-each-other kinda friends. The kind who had nothing in common - from colleges, to friends, to hopes and dreams - but still let themselves be strung along for the ride and stuck together for whatever it counts. Texting day-in, day-out - with any excuse to think of the other person kinda friends. And the kind who didn't even get weird about girlfriends and boyfriends - which, well, both had, respectively - because they knew nothing would ever change what they had - and nothing could ever come close. 

At one point, they'd come close to dating. At two different points, they'd had larger-than-life cruhes on each other. And now? Now they just danced this familiar dance around each othis, toeing blurry lines - hands-tied behind their backs at risk of twirling too close and falling indubitably into each othis's arms.  

Oh, and they lived half a country apart. Thise was also that. 

"Uh-huh." Dean repeats, definitively. Then, more distracted, "Cas, the whiskey today, I swear to god . I should go get more." 

"You sound pretty whiskey-ed already, just FYI." 

"And you sound jealous." 

"Dude, I have coffee. The Castiel-Novak special, with the expensive kind of cream and all that schtick, because Gabriel just visited." He smirks. "I do not want to be drinking evil-tasting liquid hellfire right now, thankyouverymuch ." 

"Jea-lous." He sings, and Cas scoffs. 

Dean hiccups again, almost like he'd forgotten he was having hiccups for a while, and then remembered again, now that there was a lull in the conversation. 

"Oh, boy." 

"Dean, you okay?" Cas raises his eyebrows, repeating himself. Something sounded different about that oh boy. Not very average-drunk Dean, no, it wasn't. Cas is more or less a connoisseur by now. And he prides himself on it.

"I think so." 

"How do you feel now?" He asks, bordering the line of concerned again.

"Strangely happy." 

There's obviously a smile in his voice when he says it. Cas smiles too. "Oh. Why?" 

"'Cause I figured something out today, Cas." Dean didn't pause for questions, went on rambling. "Realized we're going to end up together. It’s final. And it's a strangely happy thought." Before Cas could say a thing, "Uh, I guess thoughts can't be happy. Or unhappy. The thought made me happy. Or not unhappy. Yeah, that makes more sense. I think." 

Cas just blinks. A warm feeling starts spreading in his chest that he doesn't exactly know how to define. Or, worse, confine . "How'd you figure that out?" 

Another smile in his voice, and this time, Cas can picture exactly what he looks like. Knowing, crinkled eyes, lips curled, head just a little bit quirked. (They'd only met once - a whopping 10-hour first-’non-date’-date that'd been, story for another time - but they'd been through enough movie nights at this point for him to know his I-know-what-happens-and-you-don't look.) "I'm not going to tell you." 

"Wh—"

"Because, you're not drunk . So you won't get it." 

"So the fairies of alcoholism and bad decisions deigned this upon you, did they?" 

"Maybe." He draws out the vowels. "Point is, I know it's true. End up together, you, me. Eventually. Boom." 

"Is that the sound of us having sex?" Cas snorts. The warmth has concentrated in his stomach, making it feel fluttery. He doesn't want to dwell on it too much - because he's so clearly drunk, and he has Jimmy - and things are not even that bad with him right now, really - but. But it’s not like he’s ever known how to not feel things when it comes to this dumbass. 

"I know you think you're kidding," Dean interrupts him, seriously. "But you're not that far from the truth. Keep seeking it."

"The truth of the sound of us — okay. Slightly too much alcohol for you, Dean." 

"Mmm-hm." Dean hums again. "Wait and watch." 

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Cas mumbles, out of habit. 

He knows this isn't exactly a normal conversation for them to be having - but he also can't say that it isn't something that has crossed his mind in the past. 

All that chemistry - all those times he’s been complaining about something and he’s known just the right thing to say, or do, or be - and then there was that one time that they met. Cas still can’t get it out of his head. He’s always had a good memory - but this is a different level of good. Maybe it’s not entirely normal to remember what it felt like to hug his friend at the train station before he left. How they fit just right against all of you. Only maybe. 

But then, it’s also impossible, right? They live hours away - and are certainly both the clingy, affectionate kind of fools who may think they can ace long-distance-relationships but are doomed from the beginning. Of course they are. Plus, he knows Dean has a girlfriend. And he has Jimmy. So yeah, things are fine right now - they’re safe, they’re innocent, okay, they’re half-innocent , half-kidding-themselves, but they’re safe and nothing is fucking them up right now. Because Cas, well, he can’t stand to lose his. 

It doesn’t matter how easy it’d be to remove Dean from his life tangibly since he’s barely there at all, outside of one of his top three chats on WA at all times, and the ever-so-occasional co-movie-marathoner — none of that matters, except from the fact, that two years into this strange friendship, and he’s forgotten what life was like, before. But in a good way. In a healthy, he-gets-him, matching-wavelengths-of-weird, tries-to-make-him-a-better-person-sometimes kind of way. 

So yeah, he can’t say the thought of a relationship hasn’t crossed his mind. He can’t even say that it’s ever really stopped crossing his mind. But Cas can’t have nice things, can he?  

"It's an omen ." 

Cas sighs. "You're so weird." 

"You love me." Dean justifies, as if somehow that makes him weirder than him. It might, but Cas doesn't want to think about that right now. 

"And you're a massive simp - as long as we're just stating facts." 

"I am." Dean sings, again. He sounds a lot mellower now. Tuckered-out would be the word, if he wasn’t all of twenty one. He sounded ready to drift off to sleep, like that forecast had tired him out entirely. A classic drunk-Dean move, Cas rolled his eyes. "And you love me." 

"Yeah, I do." He admits, a little quieter and is encouraged by another mmm-hm . 

"Okay. I love you too." Scuffling sounds, as if he's getting up. Something clutters and falls, sounding queerly like stationery. So he's not outside, then . Probably in, like, a closet or something. The sound of a knob follows, and then, when he speaks, it's a lot less echo-y — with the contrast, Cas can definitely pin it to the previous place being a closet. "I'm going to go back to my friends. Amara's here too, uh, I'm definitely being rude." 

(The girlfriend. Not an altogether bad person but severely, severely undeserving of him. 

Dean had to know that too.)

"It's fine. You’ll make it up to them." Cas consoles, trying to avoid the strange hollowness in his gut at the mental image of him cosying up next to Amara, drunk, trying to make it up to her - okay, that’s never come up before. 

(Not in this magnitude, at least.)

"Yeah, I will." he laughs. "G'night, buddy." 

"Yep." Only a little miffed, Cas repeats it. "G'night." 

"Don't forget, okay?" 

Cas knew he'd be lucky if Dean didn't forget this entire conversation in the morning. But he didn't want to push the conversation any longer and make it weird - for him, or for Amara . "I'll try not to, but not making any promises." Dean makes a sound of affectionate disapproval, and then there's the familiar holler in the backdrop, of a group of ‘friends’ - rewelcoming his to their midst. 

And that's that, for the night. 

Cas stares at his coffee, now almost irritatingly room-temperature-d. Finishes it off in a gulp, while staring at his phone for good measure. Maybe the fairies of caffeinism and moderately-okay decisions would grace him with a visit, but it didn't seem very likely. Dean also doesn’t text for the majority of the night, except a view-once image of Amara's roommate licking a beer bottle (he’s made generally unfunny jokes about setting Cas up with the roommate in the past, probably playing off of that) and Cas replies righteously with eggplant emojis. He then sends a goodnight, at like six am, when Cas has already worn himself out with thoughts - and their annoying brethren, feelings - and passed out on his own couch. 

Many years later - many Amara's and Jimmy's, moving-apart’s and mildly-closer’s, more degrees and a few salaries later - it happens. 

(Of course, it does.)

Dean claims to have known all along. Sunday morning, breakfast-ing in bed with bread-and-jam and Castiel-Novak-specials, Dean solemnly swears he’d seen it coming. Not that he’d gone out of his way to jeopardize anything else for it, nope, but that he’s always known. “ Seriously .”  

Cas laughs. Turns out, Dean didn't forget everything after all. But he did forget the call - too many inebriated misadventures in one night to recall life-changing conversations, of course - and Cas doesn't think he’ll tell him yet, that he’d known it equally long himself. Not right now , when Dean's half in his arms, Cas is halfways to shirtless, and they’re half a minute away from carefully sliding the plates and novelty mugs away to commence a different, but equally compelling Sunday-morning ritual altogether. And not when he’s this thrilled to be acting like a prophesier, an unbearable, inevitable all-knower, and the apparently- destined love of his life. 

Maybe, maybe some other time. 

[thepromptfoundry]

For June 2024, the Prompt Foundry is celebrating with Pride and Promptudice!

Different colors mean different things to different people, but for many the association between rainbows and queer community and pride is undeniable. Let's take some time to explore these colors, what they've meant historically, and what they mean to each of us now!

If you use this list, please tag me here @thepromptfoundry, I’d love to see your writing and art!

Feel free to combine different days' prompts with each other, or combine them with other seasonal events! Use your OCs, your favorite characters from media, your own experiences, whatever tickles your fancy.

Respond to as many prompts as you want or as interest you, don’t worry about missing or skipping any. Remember, this is supposed to be fun!

If you have any questions or musings, check our FAQ, and if you don't find your answer, shoot me an ask.

Plain text list below the cut:

1 Roses 2 Lipstick 3 Ruby Slippers 4 Oranges 5 Sunsets 6 Lemons 7 Wisdom 8 Green Carnations 9 The Forest 10 Turquoise Jewelry 11 Artemis 12 Bluejeans 13 Midnight 14 Lavender Marriage 15 Labrys 16 Sex 17 Life 18 Red Ribbons 19 Healing 20 Campfire 21 Sunlight 22 Gold Rings 23 Nature 24 Bow and Arrow 25 Magic 26 The Ocean 27 Serenity 28 The Lady of the Lake 29 Spirit 30 Royalty

[imagining-in-the-margins]

🌈 CM Pride Fics ❤️

Hey everyone! Thank you so much to everyone who participated. I am so happy to share everyone’s hard work. If you have a oneshot or masterlist you’d like me to add, please send me a message - new additions are always welcome.

First, check out @blackbird-brewster's 🌈 Masterlist of Entries☀️: This lovely prolific writer has entered several fics, which include Jemily, Temily, Jara, and Je T’Emily fics! Check out their page for even more!

WLW Entries

Out Loud [Ao3] by @gaelic-symphony: [Gen] A series of short fics about Emily Prentiss coming out to each member of the BAU team.

Freedom-Seeking Hearts by @foxy-eva: [Emily/Reader] For how much longer will Emily and Reader be able to contain their freedom-seeking hearts?

Say Something by @mismatched-sockss: [Emily/Reader] Reader and Emily have been seeing each other for a while now but she can't keep being her secret.

Dress by @railingsofsorrow: [Emily/Reader] Reader is dressed in red, and Emily has a hard time wrapping her mind around the fact she wants to kiss her senseless. 

11:11 by @emberfrostlovesloki: [Emily/Reader] Penelope and Derek play matchmaker after Emily meets Reader, who’s allegedly off the market.

Bailed Out by @snixkers: [Elle/Reader] Elle has a crush on Reader. Elle doesn't want to.

Soft & Sweet by @foxy-eva: [Jara, NSFW] A confession between Tara and JJ leads to a night full of soft and sweet moments

Red Wine Supernova by @snixkers: [Emily/Reader, NSFW] Reader teases Emily at a party and she decides she's had enough.

MLM Entries

Bi the Way by me: [S.R./Reader] Derek learns something very interesting about Spencer after he leaves his bag at his significant other’s house.

For There is Danger in Our Pining by @andiebeaword: [S.R./Reader] Spencer is falling for his new library pen pal. Spencer also has a blind date.

Happy Hydrangea by me: [S.R./TransMan!Reader] JJ is corrected in finding out Spencer has had a boyfriend for a while now.

Off the Top by me: [S.R./TransMan!Reader] Spencer is driving his boyfriend crazy after his top surgery.

The Calamity by @masterwords: [Hotchgan] A series dedicated to HIV/AIDS and how it has touched the lives of Morgan and Hotch (Morgan is HIV+).

Assorted Entries

Like Father, Like You by me: [S.R., Child!Reader] In which Spencer’s child comes out as not-straight.

Pair of Aces by me: [S.R./Reader, Asexual] Reader decides to share something with the team this Pride Month.

(In)visible by @foxy-eva: [S.R./Fem!Reader, Bisexual] There are a lot of obstacles for Reader as a queer woman, but she never thought falling in love with a man was one of them.

Proof of Concept? by @mimicdive: [S.R./AFAB!Reader, Bisexual] Reader feels insecure in their sexuality and Spencer offers validation.

Teacher's Pet by @emberfrostlovesloki: [Ally!Reader/Hotch] Jack’s teacher gets injured during the school day keeping her students safe, so Hotch goes to check on her that evening.

Euphoria by @blackbird-brewster: [Trans!JJ/Tara, NSFW] Jay recently came out as trans, but he still doesn't feel like the man he wants the world to know. His girlfriend, Tara, knows exactly how to help.

Fireworks by @blackbird-brewster: [Trans!JJ/Tara, NSFW] Tara gives her husband, Jay, a blow-job and a New Year's Eve he'll never forget.

Happy Reading!

P.S. If I missed your fic or you have a new one to add, feel free to send me a message. I would love to add it!

[kelandrin]

BG3 Pride Prompts

Community

Found Family ● Plants ● Fairy

Mentors ● Contemplation ● Tomb

Gathering Place ● Siblings ● Learning

Eating/Cooking Together ● Weapon ● Silver

First Family ● Stuffed Animal ● Wisteria

Party ● Desert ● Knight

Home ● Vampire ● Field

Support ● Glass ● Lullaby

Love

9. First Meeting ● Song ● Dragon 10. Touch ● Dreams ● Transition 11. Confession ● Royalty ● Magic 12. Journey Together ● Matching ● Shapeshifting 13. The Next Step ● Flowers ● Library 14. Happily Ever After ● Dance ● Mermaid 15. Growing Together ● Stars ● Fighting

Celebration

16. Self Discovery ● Unicorn ● Underestimate 17. Victory ● Crossdressing/drag ● Birds 18. Justice ● Masks ● Harbor 19. Coming Out ● Sky ● Blooming 20. Festival ● Witches ● Child 21. Someone Like Me ● Sunshine ● Poetry 22. Escape ● Destiny ● Translate

Freedom

23. Expression ● Moon ● Ghosts 24. Colors ● Ocean ● Gold 25. Clothes ● Demons ● City 26. Art ● Clouds ● History 27. Storytelling ● War ● Playful 28. Seeing the World ● Angels ● Pet 29. Leaving Behind Something ● Storm ● Forest 30. Who You Are ● Gods ● Sacrifice

Might be a day late but it is here! You don't have to use BG3 characters for this. Just made it in mind for this fandom. The first prompt is the pride prompt, the rest are bonuses! Try to make it queer themed or just have queer characters involved. Dividers.

[pippytmi]

wrote prompt # 9 from this prompt list for wildmoore: “There is actually no downside to acting like we would be dating.”/ “Yes, except the part where people would think I was dating you.”

_______

“Ryan, I need you to hear me out, and don’t say no until I explain.”

It is as enthusiastic a hello as any, and Ryan doesn’t question it; when it comes to her best friend and her antics (the chicken incident of last Christmas immediately comes to mind), Ryan has learned to pick her battles. “Hi, Mary,” she says, and patiently shuts her front door as Mary walks right in. “It’s nice to see you too.”

By the time Ryan has locked and bolted her door, Mary has already begun to mix white wine and orange juice into two mugs. This is not the first time Mary has tried to ply Ryan with alcohol to get her to do something really, really stupid (again, chicken thing), and Ryan wordlessly takes a seat at the island and doesn’t bother hiding her judgment.

“Okay, this must be serious,” Ryan says eventually, as Mary hands her a drink with one hand and then downs her own with the other. “I’m afraid to ask now.”

“First you have to promise you won’t interrupt me until I finish,” Mary says. “Deal?”

“Sure, fine,” Ryan agrees, and she even takes a sip out of her mug as a show of good faith. It’s absolutely abysmal given the fact that she’s just brushed her teeth, and she quickly sets it down.

Mary takes a deep breath and straightens. “I need a favor,” she says. “Or actually, Sophie needs—”

“Oh hell no.”

“Ryan!” Mary gives her a half-pout, half-frown. “You said you wouldn’t interrupt!”

“Well you didn’t mention it would involve Sophie Moore.” Taste be damned, Ryan does need alcohol for this conversation, so she says fuck it and grabs her poor man’s mimosa again. “Whatever she wants from me, tell her to forget about it.”

“Technically,” Mary says, raising a finger in the air, “she doesn’t know I’m asking you. So you can rest assured your little arch-nemesis-rivalry or whatever is still intact. And if you would let me finish, I could actually tell you the situation we’re in.”

“You mean the situation she’s in,” Ryan corrects, and Mary levels her with a stare that Ryan has come to recognize as a wordless bitch, please. “Mary, you know I love you, and I overlook your fraternization with the she-devil—”

“Oh my God, you two are so dramatic,” Mary says. “Can I speak now, or are you going to keep rehashing pointless lesbian drama? Because I’ve aged two years trying to explain that all Sophie needs is a date.”

Ryan just about chokes on her wine.

Mary ignores her spluttering and continues, “Look, Sophie called me because she was invited to her ex’s wedding, and she desperately needs a date. I mean, it’s common practice right? If you go to your ex’s wedding, you need to show up with a hot date on your arm. And normally I would’ve done it, but it just so happens that it’s my sister’s wedding…” 

“Your sister?” Ryan feels like this conversation is occurring underwater all of a sudden. “Alice, or Kate?”

“Kate, obviously,” Mary says. “Alice isn’t gay. Well, maybe a little bit, no one knows what to make of the Safiyah thing.” She visibly pauses, and then grimaces. “So not something I want to remember. The point is, Sophie already told Kate she was bringing a plus one before she found out that Kate was my sister.”

“So she lied. I don’t see why you’re over here asking me to—I don’t even know what you’re asking me to do.”

“I’m asking you to be Sophie’s wedding date,” Mary says. “But not for real, since you two are clearly too stubborn to talk to each other.”

“Hold on, what is there to talk about?” Really, at this point it’s the principle of the thing to hate Sophie Moore, who is stuck-up and standoffish and just a general stick-in-the-mud. Ryan can't be faulted for wanting nothing to do with her.

“Don't get all defensive.” But Mary laughs when she says it, and she holds out the wine bottle like it's a peace offering. “Just think about it, okay? Imagine if it was Angelique getting married and Sophie was your only option for a date. She'd do it for you.”

“No she wouldn't,” Ryan counters, but she needs no deliberation in order to accept a swig from the bottle. “And how do you know I'm her only option?”

“Because Sophie told me she's planning on skipping the wedding since she can't find another date!” Mary cries, and she’s clearly distraught at the very idea; she's worrying her bottom lip insistently, a habit Ryan knows she's trying to break. “Come on, Ryan, please? If not for Sophie, then for me. I really think Kate will be sad if Sophie doesn't go, they're in such a good place now.”

“You’re going to pull the do-it-for-me card now?”

“Yes,” says Mary without a lick of shame. “And as your best friend, you're contractually obligated to do anything for me.”

“Even if I said I'd do this,” Ryan starts, and when Mary squeals in excitement, Ryan stresses again, “Even then, Mary, Sophie won’t agree. She hates me as much as I hate her.”

“Just leave that part to me,” Mary says with all the cadence of an evil mastermind, which means it’s probably time to cut her off from the alcohol.

Thankfully they change the subject to whatever Mary is planning on wearing for said wedding, and Ryan is relieved; if this actually were a serious proposal, she is sure the world would have been ending.

.

.

.

The first time Ryan met Sophie Moore, it had been as ordinary a night as any other.

In a way it was reminiscent of the first time Ryan met Mary; Kate Kane would occasionally DJ at the bar, and Ryan met Mary on the first night she’d come in to support her sister.  Like Mary, Sophie had shown up to watch Kate DJ. Unlike Mary, Sophie had been a total asshole all night. She’d ignored all of Ryan’s attempts at small talk (which was a thing Ryan did with everyone in the interest of tips, it was not flirting, no matter how Mary described it). Then when Sophie’s sister Jordan told her to “flirt back with the cute bartender” (which Ryan still objects to every time she thinks about it), Sophie—who was in earshot of Ryan—replied that Ryan wasn’t her type.

And honestly, Ryan could’ve overlooked all of that. She could have! Sophie Moore had no obligation to find Ryan attractive, or even be polite when Ryan served her, so long as she paid her bill and didn’t cause trouble. But at the end of the night Sophie—still in earshot—had remarked to Jordan that the drinks were subpar, and Ryan was pissed. This went beyond poor consumerism; it was just plain rude! And clearly, Sophie had intended for Ryan to hear it, so it just went to show that Sophie Moore was a snob.

Which is why when Mary comes sweeping into the bar and announces, “Guess what, Ryan—you have a date Saturday night,” Ryan almost drops the glass she’s cleaning.

“Oh no no no,” Ryan hastily interjects, setting the glass aside before she uses it as a weapon. “Do not tell me you actually told Sophie I’d do it.”

“You’re doing your best friend a favor and I love you,” Mary says without a hint of remorse, and she completely ignores Ryan’s slack-jawed response, just happily takes a seat at the bar and lifts a menu as if she doesn’t already have it memorized. “Hey, can you bring me some mozzarella sticks?”

“We’re not open,” Ryan says, snatching said menu back. “Mary. Tell me you didn’t do it.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you?” Mary squints at her for a second. “I’m sorry, did you or did you not say you’d do it if Sophie agreed?”

“I said Sophie wouldn’t agree, even if I said I would.”

“Well she did agree, and I said you would, so…” Mary looks far too expectant for a dead woman walking. “I think it’s time you two buried the hatchet anyway. This isn’t Family Feud, you know. I feel like the child of a divorce sometimes.”

“You’ve never watched Family Feud in your life, have you?” Ryan shakes her head. “You know what, forget it. I just can’t believe you right now.”

Mary gasps. “You listened to me explain! Are you seriously acting like I’m springing this on you?”

“You made me listen to you!”

“Okay, I feel like you’re missing the point here, Ryan.” Mary says, “Which is why I am trying to promote healthy forgiveness.”

Ryan narrows her eyes. “Did you rehearse that?”

“Forgive me for caring about two of my friends finding mutual respect,” Mary says dramatically. “I guess I’ll just tell Sophie that you flaked, and that she’s going to have to return the dress she bought, and my dad will be devastated because he loves Sophie more than all of us combined…”

“You’re seriously trying to guilt-trip me now?” Ryan groans, and she stares longingly at the bottles on the shelf that she can’t consume. “Fine. Fine! If this really means so much to you, I’ll pretend to tolerate Sophie. But you’re going to have to lend me something to wear, because your family’s too rich to be around.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” Mary beams, throwing her arms over the counter to drag Ryan into an uncomfortable half-hug. “And did I mention there’s an open bar?”

“Well damn, you could’ve led with that,” Ryan says, and Mary swats her with a newly-stolen menu.

“So does this mean you’ll get me mozzarella sticks now?”

“No, Mary, we are still closed.”

.

.

.

What does one wear to a date with the devil?

Ryan ponders this once, then twice, and ultimately goes with the black dress stashed in the very back of her closet that she bought for a funeral she never attended. It’s not fancy—modest enough to wear in a church if that was her thing—which suits her just fine. The last thing she wants is Sophie getting the impression she’s trying to dress up for her, or anything.

She is pairing her casual outfit with some silver hoops when her phone rings. It’s Mary, for the hundredth time today. For as desperate as Mary made Sophie sound, Sophie hasn’t made an actual effort to make sure Ryan was coming; no, that honor is apparently all Mary’s.

“Hi, Mary,” Ryan says, putting her on speaker so she can toss her phone to the side. “What’s up?”

“Hey! I just wanted to call and make sure you’re not escaping out a window right now.”

Ryan has to bite back a scoff. “I'm not a fucking runaway bride,” she says. “Wait. Unless this is all some sick, twisted way to get me married to Sophie Moore and you're lying about your sister's wedding.”

“God, you're the most dramatic person I know.” There is rustling on the other end, like Mary is shuffling through paper. “This is why I did not rule out jumping five stories to get out of this.”

“That’s a very tempting offer now that you mention it.”

“Ugh, you’re going to be insufferable all night, aren’t you?” More rustling. “Okay I did actually have a reason to call you this time. I sent a car over to your house—the driver said he’d get there in fifteen minutes. You guys will stop to pick up Sophie on the way.”

“How romantic,” Ryan quips. “Just me, Sophie, and our Uber driver.”

“Come on, I had to make sure you didn’t kill each other before the wedding even started,” Mary says. “Just be nice to the chauffeur. There’s no amount of money in the world that I could pay him which would compensate him for sitting through your drama.”

“Of course, I’ll be a saint to the chauffeur.” Ryan rolls her eyes. “This might be some pretentious rich people shit but I do have manners, you know.”

Mary exhales. “If I hang up,” she says, “will you promise to behave?”

“Really? That is a serious question you're asking me?”

“I need a yes or no answer,” Mary remains stubbornly steadfast.

A beat. “...yes, I’ll behave.”

“Then I will see you at the party. Love you bye!”

Ryan shakes her head to herself. “Bye,” she says to absolutely no one in particular. Well, disastrous situation aside, she makes the most of her fifteen minutes of freedom: she finishes her makeup, takes a quick shot of vodka for liquid courage, and makes her way downstairs to wait for the car so the driver doesn’t have to deal with the conundrum that is her apartment gate.

The chauffeur is a nice, older guy who holds open Ryan’s door and doesn’t try to make her talk. Instead, he plays jazz music and remarks ever so often about traffic and the weather. The vodka is doing just enough to make Ryan relaxed until, well…they reach Sophie’s door. 

As much as Ryan will fight tooth and nail to admit it, Sophie Moore is unfairly attractive. She emerges in a fitted orange dress, hair swept over her shoulder, and with a grim expression that Ryan can’t even take pleasure in when she knows her own face is practically a mirror.

“Hi, Ryan,” Sophie says stiffly.

“Sophie,” Ryan acknowledges just as formally. And then, they sit in complete silence.

Their chauffeur undoubtedly picks up on the tension; he checks on them from his mirror once or twice, but doesn’t ask if they’re okay, he just plays his music louder. When they arrive at the venue, Ryan pops open the door before he can even walk around to get it, already itching to escape.

Sophie lets him open her door, though, and she tips him even though Ryan knows Mary has already done the same ahead of time. Begrudgingly, Ryan can respect that. 

“I…wanted to thank you,” Sophie says once they’re alone. “For doing this.”

Ryan shrugs. “Well, Mary asked me to,” she says. “So.”

Sophie purses her lips. “Either way,” she says, in a manner that is clearly quite annoyed, “I appreciate it.”

“Mm-hm.” Ryan watches as other guests steadily trickle past them, and she sighs, ready to accept her fate. “Should we go in?”

“Yes, but…” Sophie stops Ryan with a hand to her shoulder before she can actually walk inside. “Can you at least try to look like you want to be here?”

Ryan blinks. “What? Am I not believable enough for you?”

“Not if you walk in there like I’m leading you to a guillotine, no,” Sophie replies, brow crinkling. “You know, there is actually no downside to acting like we would be dating.”

“Yes, except the part where people would think I was dating you,” Ryan huffs, and Sophie’s expression twists into an offended glare.

“Why did you agree, then?”

“Because there was a whole thing with Mary, and—” Ryan stops before she’s ahead. “It doesn’t matter. I showed up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Sophie mutters without any sincerity, and Ryan follows her inside dreaming of that open bar.

.

.

.

Ryan meets the bride just as she’s two drinks in, a third flute of champagne raised to her lips as Sophie not-so-subtly elbows her to pay attention.

“Hi,” Kate Kane says, holding out her hand which Ryan belatedly realizes is for her. “Nice to finally meet the elusive girlfriend.”

“Yes, we were starting to think you didn't exist,” Alice, the other Kane sister, chimes in; she's staring Ryan down with an eerily searching gaze, and Ryan subtly shifts closer to Sophie.

“Well, here I am,” Ryan says, unsurely resting a hand on Sophie's waist. Sophie clearly isn't expecting it, because she starts, throwing Ryan a sharp glance over her shoulder.

“How fun,” Alice says gleefully. “What a nice big, happy family we’ll become. When are you two getting married? I can officiate now that I’m ordained.”

“Alice,” Mary hisses. “You can’t just ask people when they’re getting married.”

“Why not? This wedding is basically a parade of Sophie’s exes. If Ryan doesn’t marry her after all this, it’s a waste of a date.” 

Ryan twists to look at Sophie at the words “parade of Sophie’s exes.” Sophie, at least, looks adequately mortified. 

“She’s kidding,” Mary laughs, high-pitched and nervous as Alice just shrugs. “Hey, we should go take a picture with Dad. Just the Kane sisters! Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Okay, but if I have to hear another passive-aggressive rant about the ceremony, I’m going to kill myself and everyone in the room with me,” Alice’s voice fades away as Mary frantically shoves her (and Kate) along.

Sophie clears her throat. “So that was my ex,” she says. “Kate, I mean.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Ryan should be taking delight in the way Sophie is clearly uncomfortable, but in a strange turn of events, she can’t. In fact, she feels kind of bad.

“I need a drink,” Sophie sighs, and Ryan wordlessly holds out her glass. Surprised, Sophie eyes it up and down, but accepts it all the same. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Ryan cranes her neck to peer at Mary, who is indeed wrangling her sisters towards Jacob Kane. “Hey. Question: Mary said that Jacob Kane pretty much loves you?”

Sophie half-coughs, half-sputters her next sip. “That’s…not entirely accurate.”

“But not untrue?” Ryan quirks an eyebrow, and Sophie’s shoulders slump like she’s lost a battle she hadn’t begun.

“I used to work with him,” Sophie confesses. “That’s how I met Kate. I guess I was kind of his favorite employee or whatever, but—that was a long time ago. It’s embarrassing.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who gets embarrassed easily,” Ryan notes, and Sophie tilts her head, pursuing her lips like she has to think about it.

“Maybe,” Sophie finally admits, “but showing up today dateless would’ve for sure hit the limit.”

Ryan nods thoughtfully. “So that’s why you were so desperate to bring me,” she says. “Even though you don’t think I’m your type.”

This time, Sophie fully chokes on her champagne. “W-what?”

“You don’t have to pretend.” Ryan rolls her eyes. “I heard you tell your sister that. I’m not, like, offended. It was still rude, but—”

“I didn’t know you could hear us,” Sophie says, and in a perplexing turn of events, she looks quite apologetic about the idea. “I didn’t mean it. I just…said it to get my sister off my back.”

“Oh.” Even as the words sink in, Ryan’s brain can’t seem to form a rational response to this information. Or stop the fact that when Sophie bites her lip in anticipation, Ryan’s eyes are automatically drawn to Sophie’s mouth. “I thought you kind of meant for me to hear it.”

“Is that why you think I’m an asshole?” Sophie blinks. “Seriously?”

“Well why did you think I was so mad at you?”

“I thought you just had a problem with police!”

Ryan sucks in a breath. “Oh, no, I definitely do. I guess my reaction was warranted.”

“Real mature,” Sophie says, narrowing her eyes ever-so-slightly, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips so Ryan knows she isn’t taking it personally.

“No, for real, do you still work with the police? Because this is so not going to work if you do. My acting skills can only go so far,” Ryan says.

Sophie scoffs. “You’ll survive,” she says, and twists to peek back at the busy bar. “Should we join the line for another drink?”

Ryan follows her line of sight and resolutely shakes her head. “I have a better idea.”

.

.

.

“You seriously brought a flask to a wedding with an open bar?”

“If you’re going to keep complaining, I’m going to take my whiskey elsewhere,” Ryan threatens half heartedly, but she gets a heady rush when Sophie tilts her head back to take another drink, and knows then and there she’s going nowhere else besides this coat check closet.

“I feel like I’m in high school,” Sophie says, passing the flask back; her fingertips brush against Ryan’s for longer than necessary. “Was the hiding necessary?”

“Duh,” Ryan says, taking another sip. “Mary would never let me live it down if she saw. She’s already given me so much shit about—” She pauses, not sure if she should continue, and Sophie gives a disbelieving laugh.

“You really didn’t want to be my date, did you? God, you’re so petty.”

“Fake date,” Ryan corrects her hastily. “And you seriously can’t blame me when you were the one being rude as hell in the first place.”

“But it wasn’t really what I thought!”

“Oh so I am your type,” Ryan challenges, and Sophie looks away, blushing.

“Look. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to bruise your ego.”

“That is the worst apology I’ve ever heard.” Ryan feels the whiskey like liquid warmth, settling right in her chest, and she grins when Sophie groans. “Come on, Sophie. I’m going to make you work for it.”

“Fine, I’m sorry for…being rude. Even if it was a little white lie and you weren’t supposed to hear it.” Sophie holds out her hand for the flask again, and Ryan is feeling magnanimous enough to let her have it. 

“Still not the best, but I’ll take it.” Ryan leans her head against the wall and sighs, a little sleepy and a little tipsy but otherwise quite content. “You know, you’re not that bad. Even though you don’t have an actual chance with me since you work for the Gotham PD, I think we can be friends.”

“Oh my God, I don’t even work for them anymore,” Sophie says. “I’m—between jobs.” Ryan watches her wince, like she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, and Ryan closes her eyes and just hums.

“Been there,” she muses. “Mary saved my ass by getting me a job. If you want some pointers, I’m sure I can make a bartender out of you.”

Sophie gives a huff of a laugh. “My mom would actually die if I told her I was training to be a bartender.”

“Hey, it takes a lot to do what we do,” Ryan says. “Not many people can perfect the art of a Long Island Iced Tea, let me tell you.”

“Except for you?” Sophie is already sitting close to share the whiskey, but when she turns to whisper this teasingly, Ryan is struck by how close their faces are. Like if they shifted even two inches, their noses would be brushing.

It takes Ryan a beat to recover, but she manages: “Obviously. It keeps all the customers coming back.”

Sophie’s mouth twitches like she wants to laugh again, but she settles for a smile, amused and plainly unconvinced. “I’ll have to take your word for it,” she says, and she turns away, their closeness vanishing in an instant. “Do you think anyone is missing us?”

“Mary probably assumes I’ve killed you by now,” Ryan says. “But everyone else probably thinks we snuck off for a hookup.”

“At someone’s wedding?” Sophie sounds positively scandalized at the idea. “That’s…crazy. And us? Do we give off that vibe?”

Ryan watches Sophie squirm and finds it, strangely, very cute. Fuck. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but, couples generally hook up. And weddings are pretty much the #1 place where they do it. I’ve seen it happen.”

“Because you go to so many weddings, or is this just a statistic all bartenders know?”

“Don’t hate the player,” Ryan says, waving the flask to make her point, and Sophie finally breaks down into real laughter.

“Oh, God,” she exhales afterward, “what time is it? I think you’ve somehow managed to keep me at this wedding longer than I wanted to. I had a plan to stick around for like an hour or two just to be nice, but…”

“But I’m just that great of a date, I know,” Ryan says, if only to make Sophie blush again.

“Fake date,” Sophie says pointedly. “Remember?”

Ryan bites her lip. “Right,” she says, and just as Sophie is shifting like she’s about to stand up and ruin the moment, Ryan blurts out: “But what if it wasn’t fake?”

Sophie freezes. “What?”

“We could make this a real date,” Ryan says, heart working so hard it feels like it’s about to race out of her body. “If you wanted it to be.”

“Seriously?” Sophie’s mouth falls open slightly, and she says nothing else, just looks at Ryan with those big brown eyes and heart-shaped mouth agape.

“Unless I’m really not your type and you’re just trying to save my feelings,” Ryan tries to quip, but as Sophie seems to struggle through every conflicted expression known to man, Ryan’s hopes fall into the pit of her stomach. “You know what? Never mind. Obviously that’s not what this is and I’m—” She blindly shoves her flask back into her jacket so she can stand.

But before she can even get away (and fall into the beckoning embrace of the open bar), there’s a hand tugging her back down, and then Sophie Moore is kissing her. It’s a rushed, chaste kiss during which Ryan is definitely too stiff, but it does the trick; Ryan stumbles right back down, and Sophie jerks away, fingertips curled into the collar of Ryan’s jacket without letting go.

“You were talking too much,” Sophie breathes, and Ryan nods at her dumbly.

The only thing her brain can possibly formulate a thought for is: “Wait, so this whole time I really was your type?”

“Shut up,” Sophie says, and when she yanks Ryan back in for another kiss, Ryan is already leaning in at the same time, kissing Sophie as well as her smile allows.

(She’ll have to thank Mary for this later. Much, much later).

[eu0n1a]

Fill in the Blanks (pt 4)

Use the fill in the blank prompts to start or end a story.

1) I screamed, slammed the door in his face, and _.

2) They stared at her blankly as she _.

3) The severed human head probably should have been a deterrent, but Michael was said to be such a nice guy that she _.

4) It seemed to me that the only thing a princess was good for was causing trouble, getting kidnapped by a dragon and inadvertently leading you to treasure, or _.

5) And so we evacuated. As we got to the edge of the trees, I turned and saw, very faintly in the distance, _.

6) It's strange when I think about it, that we let _ go on for so long.

7) I had to follow him. I crept in the shadows, watching as he _.

8) It wasn't until she had reached the car park that she realized that her _ was gone.

9) It wasn't until she had reached the car park that she realized that her _ was gone.

10) I doffed my hat as I passed, and she smiled, it wasn't until I got to the end of the street that I realized _.

11) She had reached a point where she knew she couldn't pretend any more; it would _.

12) She could hear it in the distance and she knew it meant trouble, but _.

13) A strange light appeared beneath their skin, floating up her body like _.

14) I was beginning to understand that _.

[jadedsunshine]

Went with a little Trimberly for my first Pride Month Bingo square.

Welcome Home

Trini is stuck in her head about being with her best friend, but what happens when she has nowhere else to go?

[queenofbaws]

"I'm choosing to ignore these insults to my character" with some Chris and Josh shenanigans! I hope you're doing well! <3

catch me catching up on some prompts! ;)c

"Hey, I know this isn't exactly your strong suit, Cochise - "

"I have a strong suit? Holy shit, that's news to me! Sick, were you thinking, like...scholastics? Or improvisational skills? Or...oh, is it wisdom saving throws? I bet it's wisdom saving throws..."

Without giving him the satisfaction, Josh held his book up into the air, waving it around until its pages began to flop. "Crossword's got me stumped. What's a five letter word for 'spineless person?'"

"Uh..." Chris joined him at the couch, setting his elbows along its back. After a couple unsuccessful grabs, he gave up any hope of yanking the book out of Josh's hands, rolling his eyes upwards in thought instead. "Geez, you weren't joking, huh? This...this really isn't my strong suit. Ashley would know. She'd know, like, instantly, just POW, here's your vocab word!"

"Yeah, well, Ash isn't here right now, hence my asking you." Josh pivoted so his legs were now on the couch as well as his ass, putting him perpendicular to Chris. "So here's my issue. The five letter thing. See, I can come up with tons of words to describe a 'spineless person.' There's 'coward,' but that's six. 'Chicken,' but that's seven. 'Yellow-bellied, lily-livered pantywaist,' but that's...well, it's more than five. Now, maybe you've stumbled upon the two I've been considering - 'pansy' and 'pussy.' Both five letters, right? Both can be used to describe someone who, let's face it, just can't scrounge up courage enough to cross the street."

Eyes still fixed on the ceiling (as if it would help his spelling abilities in the slightest), Chris nodded along. "Okay..."

"Only, according to this, the word has to start with a 'C,' not a 'P,' so I - " He tapped his pen against the book again, then abruptly stopped, sucking in a breath so melodramatic, it belonged more in a soap opera than his living room. "Oh. Oh good, merciful fuck, Cochise. I got it. I actually think I got it, man!" Quickly, he scribbled the answer down on the crossword, then turned it so he'd be able to see. "It's 'Chris!'"

He stared for an instant, clearly perplexed...and when realization hit, he smacked the flimsy puzzle book out of his hand. "Dude, fuck off. We've been over this! I'm - "

"Spineless. A coward. A chicken. A yellow-bellied, lily-livered - "

"I'm choosing to ignore these insults to my character. Dick."

"Okay, and I'm choosing to highlight them until you get down on one knee and ask Ashley to prom. Let's, uh, let's see which one of us tires out first, huh?"

[gonzo-rella]

This Pride Month, I'm going to try to write some queer-specific fics, mostly headcanons, imagines and ficlets. I've not got anything planned really, outside of a set of Schitt's Creek hcs (Roland and Jocelyn with a trans kid) that I aim to get out by tonight. I'll look through my list of requests to see if there are any queer requests that I feel motivated to write. But, if there are any queer requests you'd like to make, feel free to send some in. Preferably, not something too plot-heavy. I'm happy to write feel-good stuff and angst. I'd be especially excited to write some nonbinary!reader fics, since there don't seem to be many in the fandoms I write for, but if you want another queer identity!reader then feel free to request that instead! If you have any further questions about requesting, feel free to send them in!

[soupy-cosmos]

Hey you here???

Hello yeas I'm still here just preoccupied lol

[psychologeek]

Weapon (redux)

"Who am I? (to disapear)" - Chapter 1, Part 5  fic | Part 1 | index

@thepromptfoundry

Getting back to the explaining. This is for Pride 2 Disability Boogaloo, day 2: Growing up disabled. On so many levels, this part is about growth and disability (even if you don't know what this is).

more in A/N. If you haven't read the fic, I highly recommend to at least familiar yourself with the first chapter before continueing reading.

[TW: post-dehumanization (Weapon thinks of itself as "it"), mention/implied domestic violence. lmk if need more. my words are little hard now.]

Little ones and big ones. There are many. Learn.  Big ones and little ones.

Siri, how do you describe a family when your only model is abuse?

The uncovered Blades watch them. Dagger is a little blade, and it belongs to Weapon. Dagger doesn't need food, doesn't make noise, doesn't get hurt. The bigger Blade used to be a weapon, too. When it was Weapon, it didn't need food or make noise or get hurt.

"The uncovered blades" - Weapon (and the dagger) are uncovered (physically), but also mentally. Foe better and worse, they are on their own.

Little ones have big ones by their side, all the time. The bigger Blade used to think little ones belong to the big ones, like Weapon belong to Master. But the little ones make noise and big ones look at little ones with something that is soft and doesn't look like need don't look like belong to me .  It's - (It's new, and unsure, and something inside wants).

I'm dying here about the parallels. Please notice how they use "big ones and little ones" (related, possessive) and then almost the exact terminology about their relationship with their dagger. I'm very very normal about it.

Again, a lot about how people can only understand the world in terms they KNOW.

This pain when you start to realise things you considered as normal may not be so.

Not having words to know what you feel 😭😭😭

~

It watches.

There's a big one and a little one . Then there's another big one, much bigger, looking at them with body saying mine and power and little one is quiet and the other big one steps front, body scream worry-fear body goes prepare for lesson but big one still steps front, hides the little one behind.

(Is it their master?)

Explanation: Weapon (Cass) sees a child and their parent\older sibling. An older perxon, who's physically way bigger then them, enter the scene. Cass sees

 "prepare for lesson" - violence. Again, this is the only framing Cass have for this.

Weapon is there and on the big man, small hands touch make a harmless defeat weak prey .  

Random person: listen YOU LITTLE SHIT, DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD-?

Cass (the size of a cat, weights like an arm): HISSSSS

(It's not a weapon. It's not. It doesn't belong to Master anymore–

             it left

                       it–)

see –

[oh, tears again? yeah idec.]

Little ones and big ones look the same, sometimes. The way they move, and lean into each other, trust and warm and weak but not scared.

Yes, it's called genetics, baby. And family.

There's a big one on the ground, and another big one ( bruised scared hide little one behind like something important like hiding food ) and a little one ( behind,  big eyes open, scared but not from the big one, careful, weak-you-won't-hurt-me.)

"like hiding food" (oh hi, remember how in the last part the Man looked at them? compare.)

And the people are not afraid.

They make noises, and the not-weapon doesn't know anymore.

Not-Weapon

It doesn't understand.

On so many levels. NW doesn't understand so much in this situation, and more to come. They don't understand family and relationship and help and kindness, and so much more.

It goes back into the shadows on the big house. Many scary, big cold rocks on the house. They have faces, screaming but don't make a sound. They don't move. They just watch and watch and stay like all good weapons do.

Gargoyles. Those are GARGOYLES.

i'll never be normal about this. identify oneself with non-humans.

From the safety of  looking point up high It can see them, the big one takes something out of their bag and looks around in surprise. The little one is still behind their leg, surprised and curious and scared and excited.

The little one make many noises, but the big one doesn't hurt them

Yes, love. This is how it suppose to be. [CRYING]

They… touch the little one? Hold them? For some reason.

IT'S CALLED A HUG

Then the big one nod, and look around eyes searching

(They won't see It.)

Cass, I am BEGGING YOU

Their body is tense, but still calm-relive. They put something on the stairs and wave around, pointing at the stairs. 

Person: OUR SAVIOR! Here, let me show my thank-

P: where did they go?

Cass: I wonder what they are looking for. Do they need help?

It watches as they leave, staying away from the big one on the ground.

Abuser is still unconscious after several minutes, which is an indication for brain damage. Just a fun fact :)

It waits to be unnoticed before coming back down and looking down at the thing.

Oh, I wonder what is it?

The thing is food. Maybe. There's a picture of little ones holding something and putting it in their mouths and smiling. 

Random Snack TM - now with instructions!

instructions: open the bag. eat. good luck!

It opens and peels out the strong outer layer. The layer tastes bad, so it spits out what got in the mouth.

like bananas and oranges, most snacks' outer layer is unedible. For shame.

But the inside is –

It's GOOD. It's GOOD GOOD GOOD.

kid is eating candy for the first time #blessed

Not -Weapon wants more.

Not -Weapon (i won't stop being excited about it, no).

( This building doesn't have people inside. That's why it was such a good place to hide. It also doesn't have any of the green monsters to protect it.)

"he green monsters to protect it" - hi, remember Cass is a kid?

Yeah, this is my favorite part of this chapter. Honestly. Can't get enough of it. 

But maybe, maybe here, it can be Weapon again, but good?

It won't belong to Master.

[hugging you softly] no, you aren't belong to anyone, dear. anyone but yourself.

It would only belong to Building. It won't have to hurt won't need to make moving-people to stop won't make them into heavy-bags not moving and red-red-red stick to fingers.

crying harder

It can be dagger. It can be changed from hurt to finding food . A drawn blade to make little ones safe and not scared. To make people not go mine and belong and pain pain pain that never stops. 

[hi, remember that part? bc i do]

It puts another thing from the GOOD-inside-bad-out in mouth.

It can move and stab, not only stay in place like green ones. It would get more like this. It would make little ones safe.

cass: those green things get food and aren't hurt. don't have to move. they must be important!

also cass: this place doesn't have a green protecting thing. I guess the position is open!

Decision made, It goes back to the nest with the new food. It would stay here, with the building. It would protect and be a weapon again. It would be dagger, blade, stab to keep its property safe.

oh, hello being able to make your own choices and control your life.

[comfortlesshurt]

in a completely non-stunning non-turn of events, i still don't know how to end a fic

[nursal1060writes]

It's Pride month in Gotham!

Which sexuality flag is Dick Grayson rocking? This will be used for a fic!

[charlott2200]

Happy pride month 2023 !!!

All the prompts i could do this year💖

Prompts of  @pridewrite

💖🤍💙💖🤍💙💖🤍💙💖🤍💙💖🤍💙💖🤍💖

Pride month art 2023

Day 14: transitioning+ gender euphoria /A-spec

Prompts of 2022 and 2021 💖

Character : Isabella yamamoto

From :paradise kiss

Canon

*the only part of the prompt is not canon is A-spec

Im not much of a fan of Ai yazawa works , but i know the the series cause the summary videos on the *rayo confuso youtube channel is an amazing argentinian yt channel specialized in shojo anime .

In the anime isabella is my favorite ,shes lovely and the anime tackle her trans identity themes 💖🤍💙

In the A-spec ,i headcanon isabella could be Aro/Ace  ,many think she and Jouji (George' Koizumi) have something ,but for me they re the best friends or platonic .

Hope you like 💞.

[k--havok]

Day Two: Life

| Day One |

Another small (tho longer) piece, this one focused on growing up and into sexuality. Some minor liberties were taken, but again, this is based on my own life and relating to my bisexuality.

Day Two: Life

I once watched a movie that defined the answer to life, the universe, and everything to be the answer 42. 

I wished the answer for my own life to be that easy. If I were to give a number to my own life, universe, and everything, I suppose the answer would be 12. 

Not because 12 is my favorite number. Of course not. 12 was the age I thought my life could change forever. 

At that tender age, while sitting in my class, my stomach started to hurt. But it was not the rumblings of hunger before lunch. Nor was it from nausea or possibly catching a stomach bug. 

This pain throbbed deeper in the pit of my gut. A twisting wrenching knot of pain. 

I asked to go to the nurse. And as I stood up, embarrassment crawled into every vein of my body. Had I somehow peed myself? At the age of 12? 

The news that I had started my period brought a grin to my face. I danced with happiness, grabbing my large belly as I did so. 

My mother, always the pragmatist, told me I was utterly insane. Why would I be happy about my period? About starting puberty? 

Blood. Acne. Growth pains. Stretch marks. Truths that I did not know at the time. At that moment, I thought my life would change for the better forever. 

Puberty made you grow. It made you grow boobs. It gave you a definable waist. A nice, plump butt. Puberty made you hot. 

With puberty, I would shed my fat. My awkwardness. My shyness. I would finally emerge from a chrysalis of trauma and hatred. 

I would have boyfriends. I would get to kiss boys and hold their hands and have them proclaim their love to me. 

That would be my new life. A lie told to me through the media. 

I did not kiss a boy until I was 16. 

I hated kissing that boy.

[mscreativerose]

I present to y’all a 30 day art (and writing) June prompt challenge.

You can do all the prompts or just some. Tag me and/or use #rose’s30daypridechallenge, I would love to see what y’all come up with ∩^ω^∩♥︎♥︎