#the feeling when I went to a meeting of queer guys and everyone took it as a given that I was a guy

[umbershift]

Honestly one of the things I like about Edwin’s character development and accepting he likes guys is that everyone else is so normal about it. He’s the only one going But. That’s Not Allowed? And Niko the others are like sure it is! They take Monty liking him as something normal and obvious. Being surrounded by people who take that kind of thing as a given is such a nice (and bizarre) feeling when you’re not used to it

And of course when he tells Charles and there’s no recoil no betrayal just “ok I can’t say I feel the same way but you ARE my best friend and I’m not going anywhere.” The confession didn’t make anything weird. They have as much time as they want to figure this out. I love them so much

[totalswag]

a day to remember — DREW STARKEY

authors note just take a moment to appreciate how good this man looks. i’m so proud of him and cannot wait to see the movie. he’s come so far in his career. ALSO seeing these pictures i NEDDED to write about him.

join my taglist ⇛ if you would like to be notified anytime i post click this link and you’ll be all set to go.

summary attending the first premiere for drew’s upcoming movie, queer, and supporting him with all love.

warning(s) NONE

You could feel the buzz of excitement from outside as you carefully stepped out the vehicle. The soft fabric of your white dress complimented Drew dark blue suit perfectly. With his perfectly groomed hair, tailored dark blue suit, and a smile tugging at his lips as he extended his hand to you, he looked very attractive.

Today is the premier for the upcoming movie, Queer. Everyone is going to be there to promote the movie. Drew has been talking about it for days. You couldn’t wait to be by his side.

This is your second trip to Venice in support of Drew. When Tatum was three months old, you two went to Drew for a month and began shooting. Tatum just turned five months old and is staying with your parents at home while you are here.

Drew invited you to accompany him as a support person— you were looking forward to attending the premiere and staying by his side the entire time. You can't express how proud you are of Drew and watching him accomplish what he loves. He has come so far in his career.

First Drew walked onto the red carpet— immediately posing for the flashing cameras around him. He turns into your direction, taking his shades off, signaling you to come over.

Happily walking over to your man with a big smile on your face, waving in the direction of paparazzi and fans. Drew carefully placed his right hand on your lower back while your hand rested on his stomach.

Drew looked over at you, his smile warm and comforting. "You look incredible," he said, barely loud enough to be heard over the shouting. 

You smiled back and squeezed his hand. "You don't look so bad yourself."

There was a moment where you looked him up in down processing how good he looks— paparazzi and fans definitely got that on camera.

You proceeded up the carpet together, pausing for photos. It was overpowering yet thrilling, and Drew never let go of your hand, his presence constant and soothing.

As the premiere continued, Drew took multiple pictures and alongside his casting crew. You knew his inner child is jumping up and down for his older self right now.

On the red carpet, a young man stood behind a camera, holding a microphone and ready to interview Drew. The young man grinned as he motioned you both over. 

He starts off by asking how you are both doing and compliments your outfits for the premiere. He’s keeping his questions professional and not over the top.

“Drew what was it like shooting this film?” The interviewer asked curiously.

"Working on this film was fantastic. Drew responds calmly, "Given the opportunity to work with such great people like Daniel Greg was truly remarkable.”

The conversation for a bit was about the movie, you were asked a few questions, then the interviewer asked about Tatum. You both miss her so much.

“So, how’s parenthood treating you guys?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious and light. “And how’s Tatum doing?”

You shared a short gaze with Drew, who spoke with a warm smile on his face. "Parenthood is amazing," he exclaimed, his voice warm. "Tatum's wonderful—she's growing up so quickly. It's wild, but we're enjoying every moment."

You nodded, adding, “She’s the light of our lives, honestly. Every day with her is an adventure.”

Eventually it was time to end the interview. Drew and you thanked the young man— shaking his hand. Drew’s manager pointed towards the fans waiting anxiously to meet him.

“They look so happy to see you” you smirk, playfully nudging his side that makes him giggle a bit.

Interacting with Drew’s fans is always exciting— you always look forward seeing them because they’re so nice. Their squeals grew sharp when you two stopped walking.

“Y/N you look so good!” A young fan said with the biggest smile on her face and complete shock she’s experiencing this moment.

"You are too sweet, thank you gorgeous" you gasp before giving her a warm hug.

Drew signed autographs, pictures, had small conversations with fans for a while until it was time for everyone headed inside for the movie.

The movie was unbelievable. The whole time you were stunned by the acting from the cast— so amazing. The production did a fantastic job getting this done along with the cast.

After the movie, everyone proceeded to this restaurant for dinner. You'd had a few cocktails by now—Drew and Oplo were standing up, arms around each other, talking on the phone. You sat behind the phone, eyes fixed on Drew.

He looked so lovely with his shirt unbuttoned, revealing a little of his chest. Everything about him was addictive.

He walked towards you laughing at something Oplo said. Scoots his chair closer to yours— knees touching.

"I could feel your eyes on me over there," he asked, caressing your thigh. "Is everything okay?" 

"I'm admiring how good my man looks," you say, tracing a heart on his chest, "and thinking how proud of him for never giving up on his dream." You feel yourself choking on your words but maintain your composure.

Drew maintains constant eye contact with you. He slowly closed his eyes while biting his lip. His hand grips yours and squeezes lightly. His actions provided you with an answer.

"I love you so much, darling, I'm not sure what I did to earn you. Thank you for everything and for making me Tatum's dad."

You lean in for a brief kiss on the lips.

"And I love you more than you even know."

my taglist!

@drewstarkeys-world @chenslucy @starkeyvhs @rosezza @rafeyslamb @runningfrom2am @diqldrunks

[respectthepetty]

Dangerous Romance is peak comedy

I got 99 problems, but Dangerous Romance ain't one. It feels like a Thai version of Another Gay Movie because it is squeezing in all the tropes yet taking none of them seriously, which is not a problem in my book.

Not a Problem #1 - Nava & Guy making everything into a competition including turning on the faucet. They got that Love Mechanics color-coded lighting treatment, and that's all I care about.

Not a Problem #2 - The Poor Boys treating the Rich Kids like the dogs they are by threatening punishment if they act up and dropping "good boy" casually into the conversation when they do good deeds, then rewarding them. It's puppy play meets praise kink, and I approve of it.

Not a Problem #3 - How Sailom's friends, especially Guy, thought Kanghan was trying to poison them, yet still drank with Nava because if he was going to die, he was going to die the champion.

Not a Problem #4 - Kanghan not knowing how to express what he is feeling when Sailom questions him after the kiss and expecting the kiss to speak for itself. He thought he was speaking Sailom's love language, but Sailom is clearly an "acts of service" type, while Kanghan is a "words of affirmation" guy.

Not a Problem #5 - Characters using the bathroom! Every episode, someone goes to the bathroom or uses it as an excuse to escape a dinner where they cannot make eye contact with the boy who kissed him in the bathroom because the kiss was a C- at best and he doesn't know how to tell him that without making him cry since he has a praise kink, and I appreciate it.

Not a Problem #6 - Kanghan saying that he sucks.

Not a Problem #7 - Kanghan stating he has to keep trying because practice makes perfect.

Not a Problem #8 - The tiny smile Kanghan gave when he realized he could go through the bathroom door instead of the front door to get to Sailom. And no, this is NOT an euphemism.

Not a Problem #9 - How Kanghan stood in the light because he finally figured out his feelings and he wanted to be open and honest about them while Sailom still hid in the dark blue afraid of the way he already loves this unhinged Blue Boy.

Not a Problem #10 - The pinky promise to be queer

Not a Problem #11 - The way Kanghan naturally went into Sugar Daddy mode.

Not a Problem #12 - The dumb looks these two kept giving each other in front of Sailom's friends and God as if no one else existed but each other.

Not a Problem #13 - Sailom singing JLo's 2001 hit "My Love Don't Cost a Thing" only for Auto to bring that Golden Era Madonna Energy and tell Kanghan that "We are living in a material world, and he is a material girl"

Not a Problem #14 - Kanghan liking the way Sailom smells. Kanghan wearing Sailom's clothes. Kanghan responding "no-no" when asked if he is a psycho like a cute little puppy. Kanghan's entire existence, and Sailom's annoyance of how much he loves this guy.

Not a Problem #15 - Kanghan being a WEAKASS! My family will give outsiders hot shit without any warning, just to watch them take a bite and cry, so I get a deep pleasure watching people suffer their way through eating spicy foods to save face. Like, just take the L my man, so everyone can know Sailom is superior to you in every way! Hence why I love Eddie from Kiseki: Dear to Me and Palm from Never Let Me Go. They like it spicy.

Not a Problem #16 - Sailom being horny on main when Kanghan took the blame to save Auto.

Not a Problem #17 - Auto being so tiny compared to the group. Auto getting White Girl Wasted. Auto dancing. Auto refusing to snitch on the group. Auto saying his mom is gonna be soooo upset at him like he is a (queer-coded) killer in the original Scream. Auto saying "NEVER FORGET! NEVER FORGIVE!"

Not a Problem #18 - Sailom being a gold-star gay when that girl was trying to dance with him, only for Kanghan to come in with a steel chair and demand she leave his gay boyfriend alone.

Not a Problem #19 - Sailom finally realizing just how crazy Kanghan is when Kanghan wanted to ballroom dance in the bar as a way of declaring to the whole world that they are in love, then Sailom realizing he is VERY into Kanghan's brand of crazy. *see #16*

Not a Problem #20 - Those handmade cheerleader outfits being so camp (read: fugly), that it brought the queer out of my (hidden) girl couple.

Not a Problem #21 - Sailom screaming "TROY!" again for the Wildcats in the audience who are "all in this together"

Not a Problem #22 - Guy not kink-shaming Sailom for his puppy play relationship with Kanghan since he's probably taking mental notes, so he can tame Nava using similar methods.

Not a Problem #23 - Kanghan hugging Sailom so tightly and THANKING HIM after Sailom said yes to being his boyfriend. See what a good dom can do for a brat through affirmation play? "Good boy" *pat his head*

Not a Problem #24 - Kanghan's (Perth's) smile. Sailom's (Chimon's) wavy hair. The boys cuddling up in Sailom's bed because Kanghan now needs constant positive reinforcement for his good behavior and he likes the way his boyfriend smells. Kink is really classical conditioning. Smell of boyfriend + Hugs from boyfriend = Who's a good boy? Who's the best boy? Who's my very good boy? *rubs his belly*

Not a Problem #25 - Saifah being A WHOLE FUCKING PROBLEM all episode! My wild ass theory lives!

God, I fucking love this show.

[anime-related]

AU where L and Light go to To-Oh together before the Death Note is dropped. (Whether Light is Kira is up to you, I think it'd be cool either way)

While L and the cops are investigating Kira, Light and L have began a relationship. Now, Soichiro (lights dad, if your memory is as bad as mine) is working with L, but has also literally seen him in the house.

Sufficed to say, he's shocked when he meets L and it's his son's college friend. Even more so when Light calls L nearing the end of a meeting and hears them talk more than platonically.

Here's some little excerpts my mind made up. I've watched the show only once, so I'm sorry if/that it's ooc

"Hello. I am here to see Light."

"Light! There's a weird guy at the door!" Sayu called. She glanced at him. "No offense."

"None taken," L dismissed.

Light ran down the stairs, smiling at the sight of L in the door.

"Hey! I picked up some cake, and we can go play that game I talked about."

"I figured as much, since that's why I'm here," L said. Light rolled his eyes fondly.

They walked into the kitchen, where his father was getting water.

"Oh, you must be Soichiro Yagami. Police chief, solved over 30 cases."

"Wow, Light. I had no idea you talked about me all that much."

"He doesn't."

Upon setting their sights on L, Soichiro's mind went blank. He would've never guessed. What were the chances. While everyone else was making their judgments on L and his appearance, Soichiro was trying to combine Ryuzaki with L in his mind.

He ignored it. It'd be safer for both of them if they didn't bring their personal lives into this. He took out his ID and introduced himself as if it were the first time.

"If I were Kira you would be dead Soichiro Yagami."

Combining these two people wouldn't be so difficult. He knew Ryuzaki reminded him of someone.

As they went on, he remembered small details. Light running downstairs because he and Ryuzaki had left their phones there. Ryuzaki also had an infatuation for sugar, and even when his wife made pretty universally loved tea, he'd still add stacks of sugar cubes.

Then there was...

"And from now on, I'll have to ask that you stop calling me 'L.' It's..." L glanced at Soichiro. "Ryuzaki now. Just to be safe."

How cautious was L to give a fake name to L before Kira was even a factor? And if Soichiro didn't know him, would he have used a different alias?

"Excuse me," L said, pulling his phone oddly from his pocket. "Your timing is perfect, I'm nearly done with my meeting. I'll be over shortly."

"I assume you have more puzzles to test me with?"

"Of course I do." Whoever was on the other side laughed softly. A small smile cracked L's face.

"I look forward to it, Ryu."

"So do I."

"See you soon."

L hesitated, but hung up without saying much more like usual.

"My apologies, I try not to keep him waiting."

"Was that Watari?" Matsuda asked.

"No, my boyfriend." He said it so casually, though it shocked everyone.

"You... what?" Aizawa asked.

"He's the only person I've ever met on my level. If it didn't put him in significant danger, I would've brought him in to help." He pushed his lip with his thumb. "Though that's not the only reason," he added in a mumble. He looked as ashamed as L could look.

"How long have you, uh..." Poor Matsuda was thrown extremely off guard.

"I've been queer my whole life if that's what you're asking. Though, I'm sure you're not. I've known him for a few months. He's very attractive." He pulled his hand away from his smile. "I'd tell you his name, but I don't feel comfortable doing so."

Soichiro feared he already knew who it was. Light didn't need to be put in more danger than he already was being his son. He didn't know how to feel about this.

"You'd place surveillance camera's on your own boyfriend?" Soichiro asked. He wouldn't mind placing them on Light, but L always had a certain level of respect for him.

"Of course. I've suspected he was L since before we started a romantic relationship."

This was a shock to everyone. Not only L dating Light, but L potentially dating Kira and knowing it.

"Why?"

"Light is my intellectual equal. Unfortunately that makes it more likely that he's Kira. And the fact that he made the first move only increases that likelihood, though he doesn't know I'm L. If he did, I'd be more sure."

"How sure are you?"

"About 5%. If he knew I was L before he kissed me, it'd be 7 or 8%. Getting close with the enemy is a good way of staying in their good graces and not getting caught, but I'm not going to excuse Light as a suspect just because he makes me happy. That would be ridiculous. And being his boyfriend makes it so I can monitor him outside the house without raising suspicion."

"I might be out of line, but that sounds messed up. Spying on your boyfriend?"

"Well, I don't have to. I can monitor elsewhere while they're at home. I will still be attending my outings with Light and I can't help but monitor him in those moments, though I can assure you we're usually focused on each other; I'm not sure he'd have a moment to kill with me there."

"And Light doesn't know you're L?" Aizawa asked. "Couldn't it be helpful for him to be brought on the case? He's helped on cases before."

"If Light isn't Kira, I don't want him in any danger. I'm sure Soichiro understands my dilemma." His voice was tense as were his hands.

"I do," Soichiro admitted. "I'm find putting cameras around the house. If there's any chance, we may as well check."

"Exactly."

[serialadoptersbracket]

Full Propaganda: Edalyn “Eda” Clawthorne

1. “she starts the series dead set on the fact that this arrangement with this random human kid is just so that the kid doesn't get killed and ends the series being the unofficial parent of somewhere between 3-8 kids, depending on how you define it”

2. “Eda Clawthorne is the best adoptive mother to ever mother. She starts out season 1 being reluctant to take on a maternal role towards Luz when she first comes to the Boiling Isles, which we later learn is from fear of getting attached. And get attached, she does. Eda is willing to sacrifice herself for Luz by the end of season one and is captured by Lilith for the kid she met (canon time is kinda funky) around a couple weeks ago. Even if it meant death, she was willing. She also took in King, which we later learn is the last Titan, but Eda didn’t know this. All Eda knew is that he was a cute little scruffy guy who needed a family. Eventually, she kind of took in Hunter, as well as the rest of their friend group, and was a safe person to go to no matter what. I might be confusing headcanon with canon here, but I definitely headcanon that Eda took in the Blight kids during the Blight parents’ divorce. Personally, I just love her because she’s hot and as a queer kid, I’d feel safe with her. And who doesn’t want that?”

3. “i love her sm”

4. “First of all, Eda wasn't granted a lot of good things: She was cursed (by someone she loved) with an ever worsening illness, she was outcasted and prosecuted from society for not blindly following the rules and conforming. Lots of baggage and trauma. Still when Luz stumbled into human world, she took her in. She taught her magic and how to navigate this world.

She gave her advice and hugged her and reprimanded her. She wasn't an adoptive mom from the start, she grew into the role. She made mistakes, but she was willing to listen to Luz and overthink her behavior. Think of the beginning, when Luz wanted to go to school and Eda didn't want her. In the end she let her go and gave her her full support. She genuinely cared for her even when she was new in her life, and rescued her out of a lot of sticky situations, never left her behind, always ready to risk her life for those she loved.

Also King- She adopted him out of a cave and cared for him like a child even before Luz came. And the cared A LOT. For example, when his crown was took from him, she went on a dangerous mission (plus luz she just met and "used" for that) to retrieve it. Turns out, it was a "burger king" crown, but she did all that because see knew that was important to him. And even though she fears loosing him so much, she still helps him in his search for his real sad.

In conclusion: Outcast who still uses all her resources to give their kids a happy life, an education and a future. She fully supports them (but like a mother also draws a line here and there). She visits school meetings and does paperwork for Luz, she reads stories for them to fall asleep, she goes to Luz' prom, she hides her pain to be strong for them.”

5. “eda “rock, rock, maternal gesture” clawthorne sees a lost child and goes “is anyone gonna take that?” everyone loves a sexy harpy milf whose storyline revolves around living with a disability right. did i mention she’s canon bi and her partner is canon nonbinary do it for them!!”

6. “To Luz:

- She's the first one to take care of Luz on the Boiling Isles, even though for the first episodes she seemed disinterested in her.

- She encouraged Luz to keep finding the glyphs that let her use magic without having a witch's heart gland.

- She did many tasks for Hexside to pay for her childhood pranks just for the principal to let Luz keep studying there after she was expelled.

- She saved Luz's life multiple times, even letting herself be captured by Emperor Belos and almost turned to stone so she could be safe.

(that's just season 1 and start of season 2 because I don't remember anything else)

To King:

- The first episode is them three recovering King's crown, that is just a cardboard "Burger Queen" crown, but Eda still wanted to get it back just because it's important for him.

- There's a flashback to when she found King as a baby in an abandoned tower with a monster that attacks her (that we later discover was just protecting King, love you Jean Luc), and her first reaction is getting him outta there and she went on to raise him by herself.

- There's an episode of King giving her adoption papers and IT'S SO CUTE!!!!”

7. “shes THE accidental mother”

8. “Eda Clawthorne always said she was a terrible influence and took the word “maternal” as an insult. She then proceeded to accidently adopt a sentient demon beast thing, raise him, adopt some human that tripped into her dimension, mentor her, all while being on the run from the tyrannical government. She canonically adopts King in the second season and King and Luz call each other siblings. She also calls them “her kids.” Eda attempts to sacrifice herself for them at many times and tries her best to keep them safe, and is really sad about the fact that they’ll one day leave her to go back to their own families. She puts away her own biases against the school system so that Luz can lead magic. The maternal instincts basically kick her out of nowhere and she goes from a badass, absolute menace to society to badass, absolute menace to society who happens to have two chaos gremlins.”

9. “-King and Luz are very much her children but some people even see her adopting other characters in the show

-She got one child because she found him all alone and was like "guess I have a son now" and got the other one by kinda sorta kidnapping her (she's here of her own free will but she is not supposed to be there and her mom does not know she's there, also in the first episode Eda wouldn't let her go home until she did something for her (the something was actually for King))

-She's a really cool older woman who has a curse that's essentially a chronic illness and a complicated relationship with all her family members

-One time she was going to sacrifice herself but then her ex/future partner stops her because they see a picture of her kids

-In the same episode she thinks that King is going to leave her once he finds his dad but really he wanted to tell her he's changing his name to King Clawthorne”

10. “She's a powerful, funny and badass middle aged witch (a WILF, if you will) and loves her kids so much. She's trying her best to raise King well and basically adopts Luz too after she falls into the Boiling Isles world and can't go back for a long while. Refers to both as her kids & they adore her as well. Best mom 💞”

11. “she is a Mom”

12. “A cursed middle aged witch adopts two children, neither of which are her species. Only one of them was on purpose. She thought the other one was a dog.”

13. “She's hot and awesome”

14. “Her being an adoptive parent wasn't even on her plan, she just likes to defy the government. Oops, now we're a family. Fuck you Emperor Belos!”

15. “She is one of those cool aunt's that act like they don't care much and that sort of hide their emotions, but in reality she really cares. She had adopted like a million children during the show emotionally, and one of them legally. She's had so many children warm up to her quickly and more importantly she's had so many children SHE warmed up to. She's protective of all of them. I love er so much <3”

16. “This champion of a woman, this legend of a lady, continuously and effortlessly picks up children to care for as if her own. Before the events of the main storyline, she has already adopted the *King of Demons* himself. She takes Luz under her wing (ha), much like she takes in numerous other children with the intent of letting them prosper and grow away from responsibilities and duties placed on them by their previous parental figures. She is thirty and flirty and DANG she is a good mother. She casually picks up three more children whilst aiding in a rebellion with the (NON-BINARY) love of her life. Upon meeting the wonderful biological mother of Luz (Camila Noceda), you can see her VISIBLY SWEATING with the insurmountable pressure she feels to make a good first impression after a whopping three seasons of having raised Camila's kid herself. She cares very deeply for these kids and the people they love, and thus I argue she is one of the best serial adopters in history, if not THE best ever. boom mic drop the crowd goes wild”

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Songfic (10) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine

a wand and a rabbit (ao3) - CloudyPhan

Summary: just a silly little one part about a cute morning in the phouse

close your eyes, wish for me (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: In every universe, they are together. Also, there are werewolves.

Have I told you lately, I’m grateful you’re mine (ao3) - phasamtasie

Summary: Phil is struggling with feeling like a burden on a day of strong migraines and Dan helps him feel at peace with accepting being taken care of

HOT TO GO! (ao3) - ae121

Summary: Dan loves his roller skating job where he gets to sing and be silly.

He loves his boyfriend Phil, even more.

In another life you still would’ve turned my head (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan comes across old black and white photos of two queer men messing around, one playing with the other's hair, just like he did in a recent video with Phil. He gets caught up in the emotions that he would have fallen in love with Phil in any universe. He crawls into Phil's lap and tells him exactly that.

Like Dreaming of Angels (ao3) - steddieornot

Summary: While he firmly believed everyone deserved love, in some shape or form, this was something else. The love he and Phil shared was otherworldly, impossible to contain. It was more than romantic in every feasible way. And somehow, fate had bestowed it upon him, just a guy from a small town in Reading. And deep down, he knew that even if fate rewrote his path, he would still have found Phil every time.

Meet me in the pouring rain (ao3) - HeartbreakHowell21

Summary: Dan and Phil are on a picnic date when it starts to rain. Little did Phil know, it was a dream of Dan's to be kissed in the rain. Phil thinks he's joking but starts to believe it when Dan sings "sparks fly" by Taylor Swift.

show me where my days went (ao3) - weuspronouns

Summary: Through times of faith and resilience, Phil makes sense of his and Dan's place in each other's lives over the years. His only certainty in their ever-changing circumstances.

so I will share this room with you (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: Phil hadn't meant to end up here.

the (shipped) gold standard (ao3) - catboyhowell (bloodyscarab)

Summary: sometimes i wanna quit this all and become an accountant now

but i'm no good at math and besides, the dollar is down

They fade to nothing when I look at him (ao3) - phasamtasie

Summary: Arriving in the kitchen Phil made himself his one cup of coffee he allowed himself on weekend days and stared out the window lost in thought, so it took him a few seconds to register why the light had seemed so much brighter than usual at 8am. With childish delight he saw that it had snowed overnight, and not just the usual UK dusting where one could still see the grass underneath but a proper snow, coating everything outside in a bright white.

OR

Dan and Phil go sledging.

to let the light in (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: Searching for a fresh start after a decade of dead ends in London, Dan becomes obsessed with a storytelling show on Rossendale Radio and a voice that hasn't been broadcast in years.

we freak on the cam (ao3) - freelydopefun

Summary: Two Boys. Late Night Webcalls. Cords getting tangled up in unusual places.

we were never in the park (ignoring tornado warnings) (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: After Phil leaves Dan, Dan starts seeing a therapist. Then, Phil comes back, and Dan starts lying to his therapist about him.

well, you gotta do something (ao3) - lagoonlarry

Summary: how i envisioned dan's WAD tour conception, and those conversations with phil

when i walk in the kitchen, my heart hits the floor (ao3) - aura_sky

Summary: a phivorce fic

or

Dan walks into the kitchen and he misses Phil.

when the feeling sinks in (ao3) - weuspronouns

Summary: in which a deliveroo salad and a misplaced phone number reconnects dan and phil while on opposite sides of the world.

(inspired by that one anecdote about phil using dan's phone number for his deliveroo account from what dan and phil text each other 2023)

[kobold-that-bites-people]

it’s pride month, so i’m gonna take the opportunity to talk about something relatively serious for once.

if you have even half an opportunity, it is really important to actually mention queer stuff around other people. especially children. i’m not saying you have to personally educate everyone you meet, most people ain’t got time for that. but i am saying that there is a social avoidance of discussing even queer stuff as a topic in a lot of spaces.

let me give an example irl of what i mean. i’m trans. very openly so. and frankly, i could not have been more obviously trans when i was younger if i had tried. when i was a child in primary school, and we’d be divided into boys and girls for yard games, it was once phrased as “if you’d rather be a boy go on this side” and similar for the other. i of course, went over to the girls side, and was interrogated about why i could possibly want that. did anyone say that was even possible? mention the existence of trans people? no. nothing. similar events happened countless times through my life. i eventually figured out i liked guys towards middle and high school, and was quite openly gay. i remember so many people in that period who i’d complain to about how desperately i wished i was a girl, that i wasn’t a gay guy. did any of them mention the existence of trans people? no, of course not. even among queer people, they’d often give me a look when i’d talk about wishing i was a girl, that i didn’t have a gender, that i just hated being a guy, as if they knew something i didn’t. but did they say anything? no of course not.

and on and on it went, until one day i encountered the idea of being trans. the word trans. at a work diversity seminar of all things. i left the place yearning desperately more than anything in life that i was trans so i could transition. because that sounded like everything i had ever wanted. and i told people as such. but did they say anything? clarify that being trans wasn’t some obvious thing you were born with and would automatically know? no of course not.

eventually i did figure it out. after 23 years and meeting openly trans people online. but if literally anyone had brought up the possibility that i could be trans, when i was 5? 6? i would have leaped on it in a heartbeat.

and all that dancing around words, of refusing to discuss queer things around me for... no clear reason i know of. it didn’t help me. the extra time to think about it didn’t help without the words or concepts to even talk about what i was feeling.

what it did accomplish, was leave me with an entire experience of puberty, watching my body transform into something i desperately wished i could escape. it left me with countless scars as i carved at everywhere the body hair came in. scars on my chest, that felt wrong and empty and hard. it left me with a sharp pain in my heart every time a family member called me “handsome” or “manly”.

and when one day i eventually did find out. and came out as trans. and started talking about wanting different pronouns and for people to stop threatening to cut my hair while i slept, suddenly there was a change. everyone in my family suddenly wanted to introduce me to trans close friends of theirs. suddenly wanted to be supportive and help. wanted to introduce me to all the trans people they knew.

but i’ve seen both sides. i’ve seen how that entire concept was carefully avoided until i was part of it.

please, don’t be like that. talk about these things. especially around children, but also around your peers. even the openly queer or gay ones. not all of us have had that opportunity to learn these things. i went through school in the southern us with an abstinence only sex ed class. my “talk” with my folks was my granddad one day saying unprompted that condoms are important and i should carry them “just in case”. even interacting online, it took years before i found circles that talked about these things.

tl;dr please talk about queer subjects. not everyone knows what a therian is, or what trans is, they might not even know about being bi or poly, all of those words need to be learned. and avoiding them unless someone already is openly such, only causes more harm.

[hammity-hammer]

another non steddie post BUT has to do with gender shit and being a queer recognizably and existing in my skin--

i went to a friday the 13th party last night with one of my platonic partners (whom i will now call pp because shorthand is easier) and we both are very fem presenting afab people who use pronouns that don't match our outward expression. i personally use he/him exclusively, unless another trans person is referring to me in which they can use it/its because they get it in a way that cis people i don't often trust to be able to get. pp uses they/he/(it) in the same kind of way. i had my tits OUT and i am comfortable like that, because i know that the people who know me and love me and understand me know deep within themselves that i am not a woman. they see me for everything that i am and they love me. we re-met someone that we had seen the last time at the party, who was a fucking angel and so sweet! he offered us drugs to which we both declined because i was DD and pp strictly drinks, and we had good conversations! i gave him chocolates i had brought with me, we complimented each other's costumes, and overall just had a good fucking time vibing together! we started talking about gender, because i have a more androgynous sounding voice because of my testosterone, and pp referred to me using the correct pronouns. our new friend got so fucking excited that someone who was like him existed-- he tells everyone that he uses any pronouns because he doesn't want to have to repeatedly explain to people that he's not a woman, that he exists outside of the gender spectrum. he told us about the immense euphoria he gets when his partner refers to him using the correct pronouns, and i got so excited for him! it's been really fucking hard lately existing as such a feminine presenting person in spaces that aren't full of me-- and he helped re-light that spark of wanting to tell every person that tells me i'm a woman/too feminine to be a man/too xy or z to be trans and live my life peacefully to fuck right off. he was so fucking happy to meet people whose perceived genders didn't match their identities because people like us are so fucking far and few between. i have dysphoria-- i have it so fucking bad some days and didn't even realize that's what i was feeling because people that look like me/feel like me don't talk about it! transness is always seen from such a binary point of view, and even when people try to go outside the binary it just ends up like a third gender of androgyny and i personally just don't fit that! i am a guy. i am a dude. i'm a girl. i'm a person. i wear dresses and skirts and pants and proudly display my body because it's the only one i have and my mother did a very good fucking job in raising me to believe that i'm beautiful, and that anyone can be beautiful regardless of their gender identity. she taught me that people are people at their cores and that is what makes them beautiful. she also taught me that as long as i'm happy with myself and with the people i surround myself (who love me unconditionally, might i add) then it doesn't fucking matter what the world thinks of me. she let me play with whatever toys i wanted as a kid, she dressed me in the most neutral shit, in boys clothes, in girls clothes, because she thought they looked cool and they made me happy! she took the gender out of things that society and my peers and the other adults in my life kept trying to force gender into. she reminds me daily that as long as i'm happy, i'm beautiful. i know that i come from a very unconventional upbringing when it comes to gender expression and identity, and that i'm so fucking fortunate to have such a supportive family, and i am so fucking grateful for that. i spend every day at a job that i hate because i'm surrounded by people that don't respect me because they see me as a woman because of the tits on my chest and the clothes that i wear and that fucking kills me. i still fight them every day on it, because i have to. because if i don't then the next trans person that interacts with them will have to deal with this shit. and hopefully exposure therapy helps or something because jesus fuck.

[tootiredmotel]

a different lover is not a sin

or: 5 times Dean didn't go to Pride + 1 time he did

Happy @starrynightdeancas gift exchange posting day!!! This one's for the wonderful and talented @andzia267 !!! Sending you all the hugs and good vibes, and I hope you enjoy it! And thank you Sophie for hosting all this, you're a rock star! <3

Read on ao3 or below / 5.5k words

CW: homophobia, queer used as a slur, john winchester being an asshole

1 - 1994

Dean was fifteen years old when he found out that being gay was something people could be proud of. It was early in the morning, they'd left their motel about 20 minutes before, and Sammy had fallen asleep in the backseat. The sun was just starting to completely show over the horizon, and they were driving through– or rather, struggling to get out of– Phoenix on their way to a possible poltergeist in Tucson. Every street they tried to take was blocked for the big event, and dozens of people already lined the sidewalks with colorful outfits and signs.

"Fuckin' queers," John grumbled in the seat next to him. "Never should'a thrown that damn brick."

Big banners overhead displayed "Stonewall 25: A Global Celebration of Pride". Dean made a mental note to hit up a library once they got to Tucson to look that up, "Stonewall". In the meantime, he was mesmerized staring out the window. Guys held hands, women kissed, everyone was practically vibrating with excitement. A black man in heels and a wig caught his gaze through the window and waved. Dean started to wave back, but his hand was harshly swatted back down.

"Do not," John said. "Don’t talk to them, don’t even look at ‘em. These people are sick in the head."

Dean focused his gaze on his lap until they were out of the city, and his mind wandered back to the gas station they stopped at the day before. He thought of the guy at the cash register that called him "cutie" and winked at him as he bought a candy bar for Sammy and beers for Dad with his fake ID. By Dad’s logic– which Dean trusted, of course–, that cashier, that queer, must've been sick in the head.

Then Dean remembered how his heart sped up, how his ears got hot, and how for a second he let himself think the cashier was kinda cute too. He realized he must also be sick in the head, and the thought was making him feel actually, physically sick. He felt like throwing up. Dad could never know.

Dean was fifteen years old when he learned that being gay actually wasn't something to be proud of.

---

2 - 2000

Dean was 21 years old when he learned the word “bisexual”. Dad had caught word of a ghoul case in lower Manhattan and sent Dean to take care of it. It was starting to get too hot and the streets were too crowded, but Dean was mostly glad to get a break from the constant fighting between Dad and Sammy.

Except it was June, and every time he turned a corner, there they were. The Pride parade flyers.

The second he spotted a rainbow he averted his gaze. He turned another corner and spotted another one. He avoided reading them at all costs. He heard Dad’s voice. Sick. Sick in the head.

For years now Dean had pretended he wasn’t sick. He pretended to not stare at Patrick Swayze too much whenever Dirty Dancing played on TV. He pretended like he didn't imagine what it would be like to kiss a guy, what stubble would feel like against his lips if he ever did.

He liked women. He could stick to women. He could live his whole life like that. And that meant he wasn’t totally sick, right? He wasn’t gay -gay if he liked girls.

But then what the hell was he? Would he even belong at one of these Pride things if he wanted to? He was probably a freak of nature. Even sicker than the rest of the bunch.

Curiosity got the best of him. He spared a glance at one of the flyers as he waited to cross the street.

Gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transexuals, ALL WELCOME

“Are you gonna go?” A voice next to him asked. ”It’s next weekend.” He was blond, pale, and a bit shorter than Dean.

“What? No! I don't swing that way,” Dean said, a bit too quickly and with too much bite.

The guy looked him up and down with a frown. “Geez, alright. Just askin’.”

He started to walk away, and Dean spoke up before he could stop himself.

“Hey man, wait.”

The guy stopped walking.

“Sorry, can I ask you something? Assuming you... know about this stuff?”

He seemed exasperated, but he turned anyway, willing to hear Dean out. Dean licked his lips, rubbed at the back of his neck, swallowed nervously. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, asking a stranger on the street about something so personal. At least the chances of meeting this person ever again were close to none.

“What’s bisexual?”

The guy’s features softened a bit. He seemed to understand something about Dean that so far Dean refused to acknowledge.

“It means you’re into more than one gender. And yes, you can do that,” the guy said. He flashed Dean a tight smile and then disappeared into the crowd.

Dean felt his hands go numb and balled them into fists, shoving them in his pockets. He took a deep breath through his nose. The guy said you. You are. You can.

The guy didn’t know what he was talking about. He knew nothing about Dean. He was wrong.

Or maybe he was right.

But he couldn’t be.

Dean couldn’t be… that.

Dean was 21 years old when he decided he wasn’t bisexual. He wasn’t anything. He was also 21 when he solved a case in record time (two days), just so he could book it out of New York before the next weekend arrived.

---

3 - 2004

By the time he was 25 years old, Dean knew he was bi. He hated it, he never spoke about it, and he ignored it as much as he could, but he was aware of it. And he knew he was bi because, at 25 years old, he’d already gone through two serious breakups, and they both equally sucked.

The first was Lee. He hunted with Dean and John for about a year, the second half of which Dean and Lee spent sneaking around and hooking up behind John’s back. It was fun, and hot, and exciting, and some of the best hookups he’d had up until that point in his life were with Lee.

But the thing is that it wasn’t just hooking up. They were close, and Dean liked him. A lot. They kissed for the first time after a particularly scary werewolf hunt in which Dean almost died, but John was more preoccupied with the mostly-unharmed victim than his own son. Dean and Lee rode in the backseat, bruised, bloody, and quiet. When John went to walk the victim up to her apartment, Lee reached over and placed a hand on Dean’s back, asking him if he was okay. Dean fell into Lee’s arms, and they kissed as they pulled away from the embrace, soft and comforting. It was Dean’s first kiss with a guy.

Lee was a lot of firsts for Dean over the next few months. But then John almost caught them once, drunk and making out in the Impala.

And then that case in Arizona went wrong, and Lee just couldn’t take it anymore. He packed up, swore off hunting, hugged Dean goodbye, and left him in the dust.

Dean needed to clear his head after that. He could barely look his dad in the eye after that close call, couldn't let him see the sorrow he was feeling. With every interaction, he imagined how John would yell at him, probably try to beat it out of him, if he noticed all he was feeling over Lee. Or worse, John could ignore him, practically disown him like he did Sam.

So he also packed up and left. Went hunting on his own for a while.

It was on one of those hunts that he met Cassie, and she was yet another handful of firsts for Dean over the course of a few months. She was amazing, and he fell hard and fast, but of course that went up in flames too.

Then again, he should've known better than to be honest. Honesty only ever got him in trouble.

He’d just left her back in Ohio and was working at a bar in Indianapolis for a few weeks to make some cash. He’d eventually meet back up with Dad. He just couldn’t right now. Not with Sam gone to college. Not after getting his heart broken twice over within a year.

He was hyper-aware of the end of June approaching. He knew it was coming, Indy had a pretty big celebration, and he made sure to be working all day that day so he wouldn't have to face it.

That was pointless, though. Toward the end of the day, a big group of about ten or twelve people who were clearly coming from the parade stumbled into the bar. One of them was apparently the owner’s little sister and they went there every year after the celebrations. They were loud, and obnoxious, and looked incredibly happy. Their happiness was contagious, and Dean loved serving them. He chatted them up, got to know them a bit, and heard all about the parade, all while staring down anyone at the bar who dared look their way with even the slightest stink eye.

But watching them that happy and comfortable, seeing not one, but two pairs of guys sloppily leaning against each other and sharing the occasional kiss while none of their friends seemed to bat an eye… something in Dean ached. Deeply.

Dean was 25 years old when he realized that a small part of him kind of, sort of, wanted to be part of this community. He couldn’t though. Not if he wanted to be on good terms with Dad. Not if he aimed to be the man Dad wanted him to be.

He left Indianapolis the next day.

---

4 - 2008

Dean was 29 years old and on his own personal highway to hell when he learned his brother went to a Pride parade before he ever did. They were driving through San José, the streets were lined with ads for Silicon Valley Pride, and Sam just casually decided to mention how fun it was the last time he went.

Thankfully they were at a red light, or else Dean probably would’ve slammed the breaks. He twisted to look at Sam head-on, his arm on the back of the seat.

“You what ?” he gawked.

Sam shrugged innocently. “What?”

“You went to one of these Pride things?”

“Yeah, dude.”

Dean’s brain was just trying and failing to load. “Why?” he finally asked.

“Jessica was in the GSA and some friends invited us. It was awesome.”

“She was in the what?”

“The G. S. A.,” Sam answered slowly. “Gay-Straight Alliance.”

“Oh.” Whatever that is, Dean thought. He kept eyeing the flyers. It was tomorrow.

“Green.”

“What?”

“Light’s green. Green means go.”

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

He kept driving and turned up the radio. Somebody To Love was playing, and as much as he liked Queen, he had to change the station. He tried to picture his little brother (his straight little brother) wearing rainbow face paint and having the time of his life at this thing. How come Sammy got to go when Dean could barely entertain the idea? Dean was the not-straight one. It wasn’t fair.

He channeled his jealousy into gripping the steering wheel.

“You okay, Dean?”

“Yeah.” No. “Yeah, m’fine.”

Dean was 29 years old when he died and went to hell without ever having gone to a Pride parade, knowing that his idiot ( straight! ) little brother already had.

---

5 - 2014

Dean was alive again and 35 years old (75, if you count hell) when he was formally invited to a Pride parade for the first time. It was a couple of days after that whole mess with Cas in Lucifer’s crypt, and he called Charlie. He just wanted to hear her voice, needed to know he was still on good terms with at least one of his best friends.

“So anyway,” Charlie said after a while of recounting what she’d been up to. "How single are you right now? My answer is: miserably."

Dean chuckled. Then he thought of Cas, and the smile disappeared. "Yeah, you and me both, sister."

“Would you mind coming with me to this thing next month? Going alone kinda sucks.”

Dean put the phone on speaker and placed it on the library table as he sat down with a beer. “What’s the thing?”

“Pride.”

Dean was glad no one was around to see him almost choke on his drink.

“You good?”

“Yeah, what was that?”

“Pride parade. Don’t have anyone to go with this year.”

“Why uh… Why? Why me?”

She knows.

“I dunno.”

She knows she knows she knows.

“You’re my friend, Dean. Thought maybe you might be interested. But never mind, I guess.”

And while all the alarms in Dean's head were blaring danger danger danger abort, he also hated to hear Charlie so disappointed.

“Hey, no, listen, Charlie, I… I would. Really. You know I support you, wholeheartedly." And that's obviously the only reason I would want to go. "But with Sam doing these trials, and Cas on the run with the angel tablet–”

“It’s okay Dean, I get it. Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah.”

And she hung up.

Dean knew, at this point, that there was nothing wrong with being queer. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, and it sure as hell didn’t mean you were wrong in the head or whatever.

But years of pretending to be a false version of yourself in an effort to please a man who was impossible to please wasn’t exactly an easy habit to break. As much as he wished it didn't, as much as he wished he could just exist, the thought of anyone finding out still made him sick to the stomach.

John’s voice still echoed in his ears. His words still drove Dean’s sense of self-worth and so many of his decisions. He tried to never stare at a good-looking guy for too long. He tried to not get too into it with Benny. He tried to keep his feelings for Cas at bay, tried to keep him at arm's length, tried to keep the fact that he was in love (deeply, stupidly in love) as close to his chest as he could.

Even that night at the crypt choking out the words to get through to Cas, he couldn’t bring himself to say what he meant. I love you, he’d wanted to say, because it was the truth. What came out, however, was I need you. And he did, he needed Cas more than air, but it wasn't quite everything.

It still got his heart split in two.

Was he so far gone over Cas that he couldn’t hide it? Had he been trying so hard and failing just as miserably this whole time? Was his attraction to dudes that obvious? Or did Charlie just have a sixth sense for this kinda thing?

It was probably the last one. He hoped it was.

Cas knew, for sure. Angels knew everything right? They could read minds, feel longing, or whatever. And if none of that ever tipped him off, well, Dean put it all on the line back in that crypt. He told Cas how he felt, told him he needed him, tried putting himself out there, and it got him left. Again. With Dean, it was always leave-or-get-left when it came to love. He was tired of it.

Dean was 35 years old, desperately in love with his best friend, and truly heartbroken for the third time in his life, when his other best friend– an out and proud lesbian– gave him a chance to go to Pride, to break through his shell, to finally embrace himself as he was; but because he was practically living in the closet, he couldn’t seem to find the handle after so many years of purposefully ignoring its existence, and he missed his chance. Besides, what was the point of going to a celebration of love without the love of his life by his side?

---

+1 - 2021

Dean is now 42 years old and the happiest he’s ever been. The love of his life? Cas? Turns out he’s felt the same way all along. They're kind of together now, and slowly but surely they’re working through a decade’s worth of shit.

They’ve been raising a kid together too, along with Sam and Eileen, and that kid is also God. After saving the world and whatnot, Jack decided to bring back some of their friends and family that died over the years: Mary, Kevin, Charlie. Yes, there are two Charlies now, but it’s not as confusing as you’d expect. (One is from another dimension, and the other one is Dean’s little sister. Simple.) Mary’s off hunting most of the time and Kevin’s applying to college.

They’ve got extended family now too, Jody and the girls. OG Charlie is staying with them for now, while she finds her footing. Most of that household is queer. Most of Dean's household is queer as well, actually. Turns out both Jack and Eileen are non-binary, Cas is gay in the broader sense of the word, and Dean…

Dean is bi. And everyone knows now.

Apparently, a lot of people had known for a long time. Sam has known since the siren back in ‘09 (even though Dean stands by the fact that it wasn’t like that, Sammy ), and everyone has slowly picked up on his and Cas’s thing over the years, so there’s that.

He still feels a bit weird about it. About calling Cas his boyfriend, about having the freedom to hold his hand in public, about the fact that they now have goddamn pride flags hung around the bunker. He feels even weirder about the fact that John’s voice in his head is now drowned out by the sounds of his home life, more lively and supportive than he ever expected to have.

He wasn’t expecting any of this, he didn’t think everything would change so fast. But when you spend the better part of your life pushing down such a huge part of you and then finally give yourself an out, a chance to show the people who love you who you really are, everything just... follows.

Love follows. Acceptance follows. Family follows. And he wasn’t really expecting any of it.

He certainly doesn’t expect it when Cas walks into the library after his weekly Thursday evening call with Claire and announces, matter-of-factly and with air quotes, “We’re going to "Pride" this weekend.”

Dean’s stomach drops. It’s the Sioux Falls Pride Parade and Festival, it’s in two days, and they’re leaving tomorrow to spend the night at Jody’s so they can all be there bright and early Saturday morning. Everyone immediately starts bustling about, packing and planning outfits and gathering flags to bring with them.

Dean just goes to his room– his and Cas’s now– to pack a small duffle.

Well, he means to. Instead, he takes out the duffle from the closet, puts it on the bed, and sits next to it for a while. An hour goes by. He thinks back to all those times he had brushes with one of these things and was just never in the right mindset. He’s not even sure he’s in the right mindset now, but he’s going. It’s happening.

“Jack’s all ready to go,” Cas says when he walks in. “We spent about half an hour putting together an outfit for Saturday. He wanted it to be as colorful as possible.”

Dean smiles, but it’s not all there. He looks at the empty duffle next to him.

“Yeah, I might need some help with that myself.”

Cas is in sweats and a hoodie. Yes it’s June, yes it’s hot, but he’s a quasi-angel, and the way he experiences the world Dean will never be able to wrap his head around. He walks over and stands in front of Dean, running a hand through his hair and down the side of his face until he’s cupping Dean’s jaw. Dean takes Cas’s hand and leaves a few kisses on the inside of his wrist, closing his eyes as he does.

Cas regards the empty bag and hums quietly, as if in thought, before walking over to their closet. Dean chases his hand, holding onto it until he’s completely out of reach. Cas starts searching, and Dean’s stomach knots more and more with each clang of the hangers. Cas finally pulls out a flannel from its hanger– purple with hints of blue and pink– and tosses it over. Dean can’t believe he didn’t think of it first.

They continue to pack in comfortable silence before changing and getting into bed. Dean doesn’t flop onto his stomach or cuddle into Cas’s side as he usually does; instead, he lies on his back and stares at the ceiling in a daze.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice snaps him out of it.

Dean turns his head and asks, automatically, “You okay?”

It’s a habit by now, asking each other that question. It’s part of the working-through-a-decade’s-worth-of-shit thing they’re doing. Turns out they share a whole lot of trauma. They share worries and insecurities. They share nightmares sometimes, mostly about the Empty.

“I’m okay,” Cas says, putting his hand on top of Dean’s heart for him to hold, and Dean can breathe a little easier.

“You nervous about this thing?” Dean asks, interlocking their fingers.

“The parade? No, not really.”

And then, because he's been working on communicating how he's feeling out loud or whatever, Dean looks back up at the ceiling and says, "I am. Kinda."

He feels Cas shifting and propping himself up on his elbow, and then he's in Dean's line of sight. Dean's gaze is drawn to him, like all of him has been since the moment they met, and Dean can't believe he just has this now. He has a boyfriend, and it's Cas, and he's looking down at Dean with stars in his eyes and a comforting smile that actually works because it's Cas.

And then Cas is leaning down and softly pressing their lips together, and that's also something Dean can’t believe he gets to do: kiss Cas good morning and good night and at any moment in between, kiss him I'm sorry, kiss him we're going to be okay, kiss him I love you.

"I love you too, Dean," Cas says once they've pulled away, and Dean didn't even realize he'd said it out loud, but it doesn't matter. "And you don't need to be nervous. I'll be there with you."

The thought should be a thousand times more nerve-wracking, not just going to Pride but going to Pride with Cas on his arm. It's not nerve-wracking at all, and he soon drifts off to sleep.

Friday goes by faster than it should. The six-hour drive to Sioux Falls, although packed in a car with five people, goes by in a blink. They stop for provisions before getting to Jody's, filling up on backpacks' worth of snacks.

They get to the house and are met with endless hugs and excitement to match. Patience, Alex, and Jody are already working on dinner for the bunch, while Charlie, Donna, and Kaia are running around prepping for the next day and dragging along a hesitant but nevertheless happy Claire. Dinner is chaotic and loud and there are way too many people at the table, and Dean has to step outside after a while.

He sits on the back porch steps. Claire joins him. She's holding a beer, he's not. He hasn't been drinking for a few months now. They don't talk, but she leans her head on his shoulder and they stay there a while, looking at the stars.

When they go back inside, Claire sits back down in her spot at Cas's left, across the table from Dean, and leans on his shoulder for a while too. It's her way of saying she cares, of saying I missed you without really saying it. Jack sits at Cas's right, talking excitedly with Patience about some tv show or other, and the image fills Dean with such fondness that he reaches over with his foot, presses it to Cas's ankle, and keeps it there for the rest of the night.

Dean, Cas, Jack, Sam, and Eileen spend the night spread out around in the living area while the girls sleep in their respective rooms, and Dean is only slightly less nervous as he falls asleep holding Cas’s hand.

---

The nerves all come flooding back as he’s parking the Impala the next morning.

They’re not able to get even remotely close to Phillips Avenue since the streets are so full. They park the three cars that all twelve of them came in as close as they can and then have to walk for another twenty minutes. From blocks and blocks away, people walk and holler and greet them excitedly, many of them trying to circle this swarm of flanneled individuals that are taking up a whole sidewalk. Granted, Dean and Claire are the only ones in their usual kind of outfit. The rest of the bunch is wearing as many colors as they could compile from their closets, half of them are wearing face paint, and the other half are carrying an assortment of pride flags.

They fit right in.

The walk toward the main avenue of the parade is kind of a blur for Dean. He knows he waved at a few people, some friends of Alex from high school joined the group at some point, and Jack already grabbed a snack from his backpack.

The actual parade is also kind of hazy. Getting out of the house that morning had been probably even more chaotic than the night before, so they’re a bit late and the parade has already been going for a good half hour. On top of that, they accidentally merge into it not quite at the starting point but a bit further down the road, in between a decked-out pickup truck and a group of people with dogs. Music is blaring, the dogs are all barking, a big float rides a few yards in front of them, and hundreds stand on the sidewalks recording on their phones and cheering them along.

Dean’s not sure they’re even supposed to be in the actual parade. Maybe they’re supposed to be on the sidewalks? Is this right? What is happening, what is he even doing here?

He doesn’t notice how heavy he’s breathing until Cas is squeezing his hand and beckoning him to meet his eyes. He does, and the blue in them, as imposing as the Atlantic, drowns out everything else around them. “You’re okay, my love,” Cas says. It’s a fact. As long as Dean is with him, he’s okay.

On his other side, Dean feels someone link their arm around his. It’s Charlie, and she’s beaming at them, her cheeks almost as red as her hair. It brings Dean back to reality, grounds him, but he’s okay now. He’s not alone, and he’s meant to be here.

He’s proud to be here.

The parade leads up to a sloping park, and at the lowest point of it, there’s a stage where Dean assumes someone will MC for the afternoon, or maybe perform. It’s grandiose in its simplicity, kind of like a Greek theater, with everyone settling down on the grass around it, expectantly.

“We’ll be right back,” Dean hears Sam say, and he turns to find they’re all set to spend the afternoon, towels laid and backpacks off (save for his). “Jack wants to go meet the drag queens,” Sam says with just a bit too much glee before he and Jack take off.

“It’s not just Jack,” Eileen smiles and follows.

Cas is already sitting, eating one of the PB&Js he packed as lunches for everyone. Jody and Donna are settling down as well and Charlie’s taking a dozen pictures, but the rest of the girls are all standing. “We’re gonna go check out the vendors,” Claire announces, and they start to take off as well.

“Be careful, please!” Dean calls after them, but they pay him no mind. He turns to Charlie. “Hey, your majesty, keep an eye on them will you?”

She smiles, bows gracefully, and heads in the same direction.

Jody stands and grabs Dean by the arm, beckoning him to talk in private for a second.

“What’s up?”

If Dean knows Jody at all, and he does, they’re on the brink of a mom talk.

“Look around, Dean.”

“What for?”

“Just look,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Please?”

So, at her request, Dean starts taking in the environment. Now that everyone is gathered, he can actually see all the people that came out (heh) for the event. There are church groups, pet shelters, skateboarders, and rollerskaters. Drag queens are already taking pictures by the stage, and at least two people are wearing unicorn heads. A few vendors’ tents and food trucks surround the park, and rainbows completely dominate the scenery. There are elders, and kids, and all kinds of families and couples, and everyone looks… happy. Free.

And Dean is here with them. He is one of them.

There’s no danger, no monsters of any kind. No one to judge him, hurt him, call him sick in the head.

He finds Claire’s blonde head amongst the sea of shoppers at the edge of the park. She’s holding hands with Kaia and has one of the biggest smiles Dean has ever seen on her face. There’s no shame in it, and she’s not in any danger either. Things are different now, and she has the freedom to be herself that he never had at her age.

He has it now too. He can be himself.

Dean doesn’t realize he’s about to cry until Jody pulls him down into a hug.

“Dean, I am so proud of you.”

And then he cries.

---

They spend the afternoon laying on the grass, eating, drinking, and enjoying the festivities. The girls come back from the vendors’ tents after a full hour, and most of the bags on their arms are Charlie’s. She gets Cas a mug that says bee yourself in rainbow colors with an image of a cartoon bee, and she gets Dean a button pin that says AC/DC in pink and blue. There’s a meaning behind that apparently, and Dean decides he’ll look it up later.

Jack memorizes all the drag queen’s names. Donna takes a million pictures. They trade numbers with a few people.

There’s a big fireworks show just after sundown. It starts to get windy and a bit chilly, so Dean grabs the nearest pride flag and wraps it around himself. Cas, the perpetual freak who just doesn’t feel temperature apparently, is wearing a t-shirt and shorts and smiling at him unabashedly.

“What?”

“That’s the bisexual flag.”

So it is. “Shut up,” Dean says, but he’s smiling too. “You want in on this?”

He doesn’t wait for Cas to respond before he wraps it around his shoulders as well. The fireworks continue.

“You know,” Cas says after a beat. “As beautiful as they are, pyrotechnics are extremely damaging to the environment.”

Dean can’t help but laugh because of course, Cas would say something like that in a moment like this. He laughs and laughs and regrets being the only one to have heard that; then again, he’s the only one who could’ve found that funny.

He laughs a bit more, wipes a tear, and sees that Cas is still just solemnly watching the show.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” He replies and then turns his head.

Dean wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him so bad. Then he remembers where he is, physically and in his life right now, realizes whom he’s surrounded by at this very second, and decides that he can.

So he does. It’s not unlike the way he kissed Cas when they rescued him from the Empty. Granted, there’s less sweat, blood, adrenaline. But just like that day, they’re both on the ground, and the gesture catches Cas by surprise. Just like that day, Dean pulls Cas in gently by the back of his neck and there’s no hesitance or fear. Just like that day, he just does it, presses their lips firmly together, and relishes in the taste of Castiel, in the feeling of the person he loves most in this world kissing him back.

The one big difference is this: that day marked the beginning of the rest of his life. Today? Today is just Dean’s first Pride.

[life-as-a-lesbian]

Alright, so now I knew I didn’t only like boys, but how did I figure out I didn’t like boys at all? There were a lot of signs for that too. I mean, I mentioned a lot of them in my last post (like getting physically sick when being intimate with my boyfriend), but even after I knew I liked girls I couldn’t quite accept I didn’t like boys. It’s still really hard for me to accept honestly, which I will talk about later.

To a lot of people, labels don’t matter. That is totally awesome. To me, labels mean a lot. When I first told my friends I was in love with K, along with “yeah we know, finally”, they asked “so, you’re bi then?”. And for some reason, I couldn’t tell them yes. I had been with boys in the past, I was actually pretty boy crazy all throughout high school, and now I liked a girl, so bi made sense, but it didn’t feel right.

I had a friend, whom I am no longer friends with, who insisted on calling me bi. I don’t remember why or how we got on the topic, but she literally told me I was bi. Very directly, without hesitation I said “no, I’m not. Don’t call me that”. She couldn’t wrap her head around that. I still thought boys were cute, I had dated boys before; I must be bi. But bi never felt right, neither did pan, and I refused to use a label I didn’t feel comfortable with. Using a label that didn’t fit me felt disrespectful to the people who do identify with it and to myself. For a while, I identified only as queer, and I do still feel comfortable using that label.

On one of K’s and I’s off periods, I downloaded all the typical dating apps. On each one, it asked the “who are you attracted to” question. At the time, I thought I was attracted to men, women, and non-binary folks. So, I set my preferences to everyone. I matched with a lot of people, talked with a few, and I met up with two. The first person I met up with is the one we’re going to talk about, we’ll call him S.

S was an old coworker of mine, we only worked like two shifts together, but he used to come into the store regularly, even after he quit. We never really talked, but I always thought he was cute and polite. Ironically, we matched. After a few days texting and a 4 hour phone call, we decided to meet up. The first date was awkward to say the least. We went to a park and sat on the bench for an hour or so, just talking. I was telling him about my grades, which, while above average, are not that impressive, except to him apparently they were impressive enough to lean in and kiss me pretty aggressively. When we separated, he told me “sorry, was that okay? It was just so hot hearing you talk about how smart you are, I couldn’t resist”. I did not tell him it wasn’t okay, so he kissed me more throughout the night. Each time, I couldn’t help but think about how much I did not want to be kissing him. I thought that maybe he was just a bad kisser though. I convinced myself I could make him better and that it would be fine. He was cute and totally into me, I could make it work.

If you haven’t ever seen the movie Two Night Stand; one, I totally recommend it, and two I am totally going to spoil it. Basically, a woman tries to have a one night stand with a man and it turns into a two night stand because of a giant blizzard. And the whole movie you’re thinking, “there’s no way this would ever happen in real life. There is a weather app on everyone’s phone, the news is playing in the background of places all the time, there would be a weather alert text”. To be fair, the movie took place in like 2013 when smart phones weren’t huge yet, but let me tell you that even in the modern age of IPhone 11’s, this is not as unlikely a scenario as one might think considering, you guessed it; it happened to me. Not quite like the movie, considering I was not trying to have a one night stand and the guy did not get the girl in the end, but weather did trap S and I in a very small apartment together on our second and last date.

For our official second date, we went out to a local arcade. We played games and he tried to make out with me in the Photo Booth. Then, we went back to my apartment. On the way back, it looked like it was going to rain and I had checked the weather that day so I knew that rain was in the forecast. I, however, did not know that it wasn’t just rain forecasted, it was a severe thunderstorm. We hung out in my room for a bit and then after another set of uncomfortable kisses, I asked him to go. I walked him to the door and when I opened it, it was pouring. It wasn’t just a heavy rainfall. It was raining so hard we couldn’t see the cars on the street from my balcony. He obviously didn’t want to try to drive home in the storm considering he didn’t live in town (fair enough), so he asked if he could stay. I didn’t want him to get in a wreck, so I told him he could. One huge problem though, I didn’t have anywhere for him to sleep… except… in bed… with me. My couches weren’t couches at all, one was a chair and one was a loveseat and he was pushing 6”; my roommates room was off limits. Looking back, I guess I could’ve made him sleep on the floor, but I didn’t. We slept in my bed together.

He was perfectly respectful. We didn’t have sex and he didn’t try, we just slept. And still, the next morning, I woke up feeling like I needed to rip my skin off. I barely spoke a word to him that morning and I never texted him again. The moment I got home from work, I took the hottest shower I have ever taken in my life and scrubbed my skin until it was blotchy red. I immediately bleached my sheets, my pillowcases, my blankets, and the clothes I slept in. I was nauseous the next two days. That’s when it clicked. H, if you can’t share a bed, PLATONICALLY, with a perfectly nice and handsome man is there any way you could share a bed romantically with one?

That’s when I changed the preferences on my dating apps to show me women only.

[bermansimon]

Kate Schmidt/female reader

Request

dayy-dreamerrs

dude i have literally no ideas but queer!kate bc im attached to her and im fruity 😩

(sorry this took so long I hope u enjoy!!)

The second Kate passed you the cheerleading outfit, your mind fell into a blissful daze. Briefly, your hands grazed against each other. 

Your pink, increasingly red cheeks didn’t go unnoticed to Kate. Her soft smile made yours only grow, until there is a cough from Simon across the room, smirking at the two of you. 

“Eat shit,” Kate growls, promptly showing her middle finger to him as you stand there, amused. “Sorry, Y/N. Feel free to change in the bathroom, let me know if you need any help and I'll come find you.” 

She smiles, before walking away to Simon. 

You stand there for a moment, watching her, before rushing away to the female bathroom as directed. You laid your backpack on the closed toilet seat, before stripping down your clothes and easily sliding into the blue costume. It hugged your body in a way you hoped Kate’s eyes would stay on you. 

After shoving your previously worn clothes into your backpack, you walked out of the stall and stared in the mirror. The zip at the back wasn’t closed, your pink bra underneath revealed to the other girls scattered around the bathroom. Girls who were too busy smoking, vaping or purely gossiping to notice you were asking for help. 

You sigh, throw your coat on over the outfit, before walking towards the gym once again. This time, all eyes on you. All mouths motioning your name. 

“Kate?” You call out quietly. 

Suddenly, the dark-haired girl jumped out from behind the bleachers, Simon following behind her. She gives you a smile and rushes towards you. 

“You look great!” She beams, “Have you zipped up?” 

“No, I...” Your face went pink, “None of the girls in the bathroom would help me so I just came back here - is that okay? I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise, Y/N.” 

“Okay...” 

You drop your bag and coat onto the ground, before facing the opposite way from Kate. Your eyes are shut. One of her hands rest on your hip, pulling the outfit down and she uses the other hand to push up the zip. 

Once ready, she spins you around and places her hands on your shoulders, your faces just inches apart. 

Kate senses your anxiety, and lowers her arms, “Everything will be okay. Are you nervous about starting cheerleading? It’s really not overly complex.” 

“No, I’m nervous about you..do you think people will judge me?” You end up saying, before covering your embarrassed face. Standing close to you, was Kate. The girl you’ve adored admired for months on end, and you were expressing your concerns about getting bullied. 

Unexpectedly, Kate didn’t laugh. Instead, she wrapped her arms around your waist and rested her chin on your shoulder. “Nobody will judge me when I'm with you. if they do, I’ll murder them.” 

You laugh, “You would murder them for me?” 

“Of course. I would do anything for one of my cheerleaders - we’re like a family now,” Kate pulls away enough for your faces to meet, her hands are still resting on your waist as she smiles at you, “And for the record, I doubt anyone would talk bad about you wearing that. Seriously, you’re making me question myself right now - you look beautiful, Y/N.” 

The bell rang, and you internally thanked it. You and Kate parted ways after sharing one last hug, you couldn't find the words to say anything else. Looking down, you could see your hands were shaking nervously. You take a deep breath - maybe two - before walking in the direction of your next class. 

Everyone was wrong. Kate was seen as heartless, but you knew that was far from the truth. At your audition, when you accidentally tripped over, Kate helped you remain focused and you finished without a second mistake. She helped you with your outfit, made you smile and complimented you so much your knees literally went weak. 

Sitting in geometry, you could see Kate a few rows away. Apparently you shared more classes then you originally thought. Between you sat Deena, who was too preoccupied scribbling notes and sketches back and forth with Sam to notice anything else occurring during the class. 

They came out as a couple the previous year. You almost cried when it happened - because someone was like you. And if Kate stayed friends with them before and after, she had to support that, right? 

Possibly even be apart of that community, you thought to yourself. 

“Y/N,” Kate whispered from her desk, she passed Deena a note, which Deena gave to you with a smirk. 

Your face heats up as you open the note, reading ‘bleachers. 7 - Kate <3′ 

The butterflies in your stomach grow when you look up and see her blowing you a kiss. From the back of your mind you wondered if she was simply being a tease - that she somehow found out about your secret crush and enjoyed pushing you around. Except, her sincere smile made you remember this was Kate, she isn’t a bad person. She’s beautiful and smells like sweet lemons. 

So, you gave her a nod, wordlessly agreeing you would be there. 

- 

You sat on the bench while the cheerleaders danced. Considering it was only your first day - you decided against participating in the big game. Primarily because you were scared of humiliation, but also because you wanted everything to go perfectly for Kate. 

The game is still in progress, twenty minutes remain and you’re sitting under the bleaches as directed, a warm hot chocolate resting in your palms. 

it’s 7:06 and zero sign of Kate. 

Embarrassment infused you when you saw another couple making themselves comfortable metres away, practically dry-humping each other as you sat and drank your warm drink. You decided to wait a few more minutes before you left, when it reaches 7:15 you promised yourself to walk away. 

And by the time 7:15 reached, you were walking out of the bleaches with tears filling up your eyes - she led you on because she had the advantage. 

“Y/N?” A voice, one defiently belonging to Kate called out. 

You looked around and saw her, “What?” 

As a disguise, she wore an oversized jumper, a cap and baggy pants. You barely noticed it was her - but by looking at her pretty smile, it was obvious. 

“I’m sorry I was late, coach was upset,” She walked closer towards you, and sat down on the ground, patting the spot beside her, “And I was getting changed into these clothes...I didn’t want anyone to see me.” 

“Why?” You ask, “Are you...embarrassed of me? Are you embarrassed to be friends with me?” 

Kate tilts her head and frowns, “You know that’s not it. I’m not embarrassed of you, Y/N. I’m...embarrassed of myself. Everybody knows people only come down here to be with the person they like.” 

You stay quiet. 

She continues, “And I like you...I barely know you, but I've seen you. In class, you're always so observant and smart. And when you got nervous talking to me I realised that maybe you're like me - so I made my move. And I showed up late, which I'm sorry for, but I just...I like you a lot.” 

“Do you really?” You smile softly, “Because I like you - a lot - but I don’t want to say anything in case this is some sick prank.” 

Instead of responding, Kate holds the back of your head with her hand and pushes your lips together. It’s soft, unlike the last few guys you've kissed, Kate’s lips weren't chapped or picked at. They're smooth and taste like cherry lip gloss, which she undoubtably uses. 

Kate pulls away, “I'm not interested in girls.” 

You frown, “Then why are you kissing me? Didn't you just confess?” 

Kate smiles, and tucks a loose strand of her behind her ear, “I did, and I like you. I’m not...interested in labelling myself. I’m giving you a warning, I’m not ready for this - for us - to be public. So, if you’re not interested in being a secret for however long...tell me now.” 

Despite how often you've dreamt about walking down the hallway with Kate’s hand holding your own - you remember what it’s like to be afraid of judgement. So, you press one last kiss to her cheek, “I would love to be your secret.” 

“You would?” 

“Yes.” 

[buckleyblueyes]

buddie + coming out

Jess this got...so fucking long. I'm putting it under a cut. (send me a ship and a word and I'll give you a head canon)

Okay, so Buck first. I imagine that Buck first realized he wasn’t straight when he was in high school. He didn’t mention it to his parents because it’s not like they were that interested in who he was dating anyway. But he did come out to Maddie back then. They were driving around her jeep (coming out in cars is Real okay) and there was some cheesy pop music on the radio (it was the early 2000s) and he didn’t have the word “bisexual” just yet, but she asked if he was dating anyone/if he had a crush on someone and he said “uh...yeah. His name’s Jamie.” and she just took it in stride. Just kind of “oh, okay.” and then he added quickly “I still like girls, too, though” and since she was already through college at this point, so she knew sexuality wasn’t just gay and straight, so she didn’t even blink. “So, tell me about him” and he did. When he was done, she grinned, told him she wanted to meet Jamie some time, and turned up the radio. They drove around some more singing along to whatever cheesy pop song played next.

As far as Buck coming out as an adult, at some point in his late teens or early twenties he found the word bisexual. He never really tried to hide it, but he also never went out of his way to broadcast it. He never felt ashamed of his sexuality, per se, but he never felt proud of it either. It was just like...sometimes he dated guys, y’know? Anyways so flash forward to when he joins the 118. He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, but at some point early on Hen describes him as “a straight white boy” and he’s like “bold of you to assume I’m straight” “you’re not?” “not even a little” and leaves it at that. Sometimes he mentions hookups with guys during his 1.0 phase, but other than that he doesn’t really talk about it. He comes out to Eddie sometime in season 3, when he’s bemoaning his loneliness and Eddie says “you’ll find the right girl someday” and Buck suddenly realizes he’s never actually told Eddie he’s into guys so he responds. “Right person, actually.” and Eddie blinks twice. “What?” and Buck sighs. “I’ll find the right person, I’m bisexual.” and Eddie blinks again. “Oh...Cool…” and then they just move on.

Which brings us to Eddie. Eddie does not come to the realization that he’s queer until much later in life. He worries he might be gay in high school, because everyone else is interested in dating and girls, and he’s just. Not. Everyone always tells him that he and his good friend Shannon would make a good couple, and he’s pretty sure she has a crush on him, but he just likes her as a friend. Until one day, the summer after they graduate from high school, he looks at her and his heart starts racing and his palms are sweating but it’s not from the Texas humidity and oh my god. Is this what liking someone feels like? This is terrible, actually. But he was right about Shannon having a crush on him, so they start dating, and it’s great. And Eddie is relieved because falling in love with Shannon means he’s straight. He was just a late bloomer, like his mom said.

Anyways, so flash forward about twelve years and Eddie is starting to think he was wrong before. Oh, God, he was so wrong. He’s not sure when Buck went from his best friend to someone he was falling in love with, but it’s too late to go back now. But it’s fine. It’s fine. Buck is straight anyway, so it’s not even worth getting worked up over because it’s never going to happen and--Buck isn’t straight. Oh, hell.

And then he meets Ana, and she’s, well. She’s pretty, and he likes that she guesses his name right, but then he blows up at her and also she’s his son’s teacher, so that’s kind of weird. And then the pandemic hits, and he’s forced into close quarters with Buck and it gets impossible to deny his feelings to himself any longer. But he doesn’t know what to do about it. The problem for Eddie is that he’s only really had strong feelings for two people ever in his life, and the word ‘bisexual’ doesn’t to fit. More like ‘these two people in particular-sexual’ but that doesn’t really make sense.

So, when Ana comes back into his life, it seems like the easy way out. Nobody has to know that he has all these weird, confusing, not-heterosexual feelings. He’s 33 years old, who has a sexuality crisis at 33? Of course, the universe has other plans. He gets shot, he almost dies, and he realizes he doesn’t really feel anything for Ana and he probably never will, and predictably by the time he’s finally ready to confront his feelings and sexuality, Buck is dating Taylor. Great.

Anyways, so Eddie goes to Hen for help figuring himself out because if anyone would be able to help, his married lesbian friend seems like a very good bet. And he’s right. He explains how he’s only ever been in love with two people and that gender doesn’t seem to be a big factor in it, and she points him to the concept of asexuality and aromanticism, and more specifically demisexuality/demiromanticism and it just clicks for him. He wasn’t a “late bloomer” after all. So, I guess Hen is the first person Eddie comes out to. And he doesn’t really feel the need to come out to anyone else at that point because it’s not really anyone’s business.

Eventually, he and Buck get together. And for Buck, telling people isn’t a big deal because he’s been out as bi for years. Eddie isn’t reluctant to tell their found family, or even the rest of the 118. But he is nervous to tell his biological family. He doubts they’ll be too happy about him being with a man, let alone understand the concept of demisexuality. He starts with Abuela and Pepa, the family he’s closer to (literally and figuratively). He comes out to both of them at the same time, at Abuela’s, over a home cooked meal. He tells them that he and Buck are dating, that he loves him. Pepa puts a hand over his and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I’m proud of you,” she says. “It was about time you put that boy out of his misery.”

Eddie chokes on a surprised laugh. Then he looks at Abuela. Abuela is quiet for a minute before standing and walking around the table to where Eddie is sitting. She pulls him up to standing and gives him a tight hug. “Te quiero.”

Next he comes out to his sisters, who are pretty chill about the whole thing, and lastly his parents. His parents liked Buck when they met briefly, so if Eddie was going to be with a man, at least he picked a good one. And given that the rest of the family already knows and is supportive, it’s not like anyone would be on their side if they had a problem with it, and they want to keep seeing their grandson. So they just say “okay” and accept it in the most passive way possible.

Anyways this got SUPER DUPER long and detailed, so I’m going to end it with this: After they’ve been out (both Eddie coming out and Buck and Eddie being out as a couple) for awhile, Hen drags them to that year’s LA Pride with her, Karen, and the kids, and they end up meeting up with Michael, David, Harry and May there (and Bobby who is wearing a t-shirt that says ��Free Dad Hugs” in rainbow letters, Buck takes him up on the offer immediately).

[charlie-rulerofhell]

For they know exactly what they do

Today there was a pretty long article published in the German newspaper FAZ, written by Julia Schaaf. Since there were quite a few interesting topics raised in it and Måneskin talked about some new aspects (or in more detail), I translated the whole thing (it might also have helped me to procrastinate).

Full interview in English under the cut.

For they know exactly what they do

June 22, 2021

Four young rock musicians from Rome are today's hottest band. Måneskin are enchanting Europe. Why? We met them for an interview.

Every romance needs its founding myth, an anecdote from the beginning, something you can tell later in more difficult times for self-assurance.

In the case of the band Måneskin, who first had Italy and now half of Europe wrapped around their fingers, and who are now trying to conquer the rest of the world with their rock music, there is the story of the shoe box. Rome, around five years ago: Four teenagers who are meeting every day after school in their rehearsal room to make music together, and sometimes they play their songs on the Via del Corso in the city centre in front of a changing audience. One day they want to record their own stuff. They find a studio that they can actually afford and as they go there they bring a shoe box, with the name of the band written on it, 'moonshine' in Danish, the bassist's mother is Danish. In the box: around seven kilogram of coins. The things you get from playing music on the streets. Everyone searching through Instagram for photos from that time can find four hippies with children's faces, three boys in batik, the girl is wearing a straw hat.

As they have to pay [for the recording], frontman Damiano David, 22, says that there was this guy, Angelo, and his bandmate Victoria De Angelis, 21, is interrupting: “No, Andrea, not Angelo”, and all of them have to laugh because a rigid studio manager with the Italian name 'angel' would be even funnier for a founding myth. David continues his story: “The guy was completely dumbfounded. 'We can't do that.' We went: 'Sure we can, that's worth the same even if it's just 20 cent coins, it's still 300 euros.” Thomas Raggi, 20, the guitarist of the band, is gasping for air as he laughs, while drummer Ethan Torchio, 20, is smiling dreamily. David finishes: “And then we snuck off before he was able to count it.” [the German text says 'verdrücken' here which is just a colloquial way of saying 'we left', but it entails some sort of a dramatic exit, so yeah, let your thoughts get creative how they left exactly :D].

Four young musicians on the verge of global fame are sitting on a white interview sofa in Berlin, completely styled, babbling across each other like overeager teenagers.

Ever since the Roman band first won the music festival Sanremo and then also the Eurovision Song Contest, carried by the enthusiasm of European viewers, you could say Måneskin has become a phenomenon. “Rock 'n' Roll never dies!”, Damiano David yelled fueled by the adrenaline of winning, and the insinuation that circulated on social media of the singer snorting during the counting of votes in front of a live camera – including their strict denial followed by a negative drug test result – might have given an additional boost to their public interest, their exploding album, ticket and merch sales, and their outstanding success on Spotify.

“We think it's a shit prejudice against rock music that there always have to be drugs involved. We fully threw ourselves into our participation with the utmost professionalism. We give everything for the music. So of course we don't want people to think that we can only do that because we take drugs.” – Victoria De Angelis

Prior to Eurovision, Måneskin was more of an insider's tip outside of Italy. Handmade rock music, not creating something entirely new but paying homage to the good old times with classic guitar riffs and cracking drum beats, being a lot of fun but also quite fragile and vulnerable at times and, first and foremost, conveying a captivating energy. Finally, on the stage of Rotterdam, live after so many months of isolation and renunciation, this wave of energy spilled straight over into European living rooms. It seemed easy to (mistakenly) interpret the winning song “Zitti e buoni” (Shut up and behave) as a declaration of frustration of our youth in times of a pandemic. In fact, singer Damiano David is singing about the favourite topic of the band: the unrelenting need to, against all odds, be yourself, despite or perhaps because you are different. The message fits their provocative sex appeal, which the band uses to demonstrate their independence of gender norms at any given time. But the core essence of rock music has always been the promise of unlimited freedom.

Thus at the first moment, the meeting with Måneskin is kind of startling. It's Wednesday, we are in the top floor of the new Sony head quarters in Berlin. The four Italians have just started their two-week long promotion tour through Europe. In the afternoon there will be a live concert in a queer club [the SchwuZ, but that's not mentioned here] in Neukölln, which will be streamed via TikTok. Around one million viewers will watch the show, some of them even from Brazil, so people at Sony are pretty excited [for Måneskin to come here]. But at first, these stunningly gorgeous creatures [yes, that's the exact wording :D] are standing surrounded by an entourage of people – their management, PR team, a stylist, a photographer, people who can hold a smartphone or a cigarette if needed [this paragraph is worded a little weirdly, especially taking into account that basically their whole team / 'entourage' is just friends of them, but it seems like the journalist didn't know that or maybe they just wanted to describe their first impression]. They seem like fictional / artificial characters out of a Hollywood movie. Transparent frill blouses with blazers and flared leather trousers, even the platform boots, everything brand-new, the makeup makes their faces look like a glossy magazine cover even in person. The smokey eyes of De Angelis and Raggi make them look smug and bored. Later, on the pictures it will probably look cool.

So of course your first impression might be: This band is under contract to industry giant Sony ever since their success on an Italian casting show [X Factor] in Winter 2017. The music industry must have its hand in the game when a band is photographed half-naked by Oliviero Toscani and styled by Etro. Also, one does not simply rent a villa with a pool in Rome to produce new music there, isolated from the rest of the world. And who else went to London for two whole months, shortly before the winter lockdown, just for inspiration? After the TikTok concert in Berlin – De Angelis and David are now wearing fishnet shirts that sparkle with every move, their bare nipples covered with an X of black tape – the band is posing with a few influencers. In the world of social media you would call that 'producing content'. But what does that mean for a band who are preaching their hosanna of authenticity? How authentic is Måneskin? And is their pointedly casual approach to sexuality and gender cliches in today's pop-cultural spirit more than a marketing strategy?

We're in the interview, the recording device is running for not even five minutes, when Victoria De Angelis says: “Actually, we just try to be ourselves and do what we really want to do.” And really: The more you listen to those four how they speak about the early days of the band in their slurred Roman dialect, about the shoe box and their own experiences with being different, but most importantly about their shared obsession [with music], the more you realise that [De Angelis] is  very serious. Ethan Torchio, who got his first drum kit at the age of six or seven from his father because he was beating everything he could reach, says: “For me, music is like food. I cannot live without it.” The bassist next to him laughs at his pathos. Singer Damiano David applauds the otherwise more reserved friend for his truthfulness [it says 'klarer Punkt', meaning 'for the point he makes', but it makes it seem like Damiano is agreeing with Ethan here, although it doesn't indicate whether he agrees that yes, music is everything for Ethan or that he understands and feels the same].

De Angelis and guitarist Raggi already knew each other from middle school and they were the ones who tried to form a band at the age of only 13, a band that actually took music seriously.

De Angelis: “It's just difficult at that age to find other people who really put everything into music and who truly commit themselves and are willing to invest a lot of their time.”

Raggi: “We set strict rules and scheduled fixed times for the rehearsals, for every day.”

David: “Fever, stomach ache, there was no excuse. Even if you were feeling sick in the rehearsal room. At least you were in the rehearsal room.”

The way the four of them talk across each other, completing each other's sentences, taking turns in talking and sometimes joking about each other, seems intimate and playful. Singer David remembers how at first bassist [De Angelis] was merciless towards him when it came to her first metal band project, as she told him that he wasn't committed enough [to the music]: “Back then I was still playing Basketball. I was one of the people that Vic absolutely didn't want [in her band].” Drummer Torchio was later discovered through Facebook, even though there had already been a drummer, a close friend, but he was not good enough. It seems as if even back then music was everything for them. Even if it meant that only Raggi managed to graduate.

And why rock, why rock music of all things? Because it's great, the four of them say in unison. David adds: “Actually, it's a genre that allows you to do everything you want to do.”

When they played on the street, they were laughed at by their classmates. But not only there. De Angelis explains that she never wanted to be a typical girl: “I was always deterred by those stupid boxes that people put you in, and that are just restricting and constraining you, because something is only regarded as male or female. I always rejected that. Instead, I just wanted to do the things I enjoyed doing, I went skating and played football.” Torchio says: “Friends who are not friends anymore were already telling me at the age of ten that those“ – he grabs his long, silky black hair – “were wrong. Because I'm a boy and boys are meant to have short hair, long hair is only for girls. I was bullied a lot for that.”

“Compared to the past, people in our age became much more open-minded. It gets better.” – Thomas Raggi

Frontman David on the other hand, for whom eye shadow, jingling earrings and nail polish as well as his bare torso with the tattoos have become trademarks by now, says: “I was actually more of the average boy.” De Angelis convinced him to try out some eyeliner, which he describes as a spiritual awakening: “I liked myself much more [with makeup]. I saw myself more as myself. As if it had been a suppressed desire of mine.” On a trip to Copenhagen with the others, when he realised that it really didn't matter what people were thinking about him, he got his first fake fur [coat? the article doesn't specify that] in a second-hand shop and let his clothing style be guided by his own love to experiment: “I realised that my whole life I was just going at half speed.” When it comes to diversity all four of them are becoming almost missionary.

At the same time, their success is not only opening doors for them. Back home in Rome they are barely able to go out on the street due to all the paparazzi. “[You need a] hoodie and huge sunglasses”, David says, “the mask is quite helpful, too.” And still, none of them is complaining, and Torchio explains why: “Even if those experiences right now may have sides that are not so pleasant, we still know that for us a dream is coming true. We experience something that we always had in our minds, so we are willing to face every consequence that this entails.”

So is the band facing difficult times, is Måneskin going to change with all the success? Again, all of them answer at the same time.

David: “I'm not worried about that.”

Raggi: “No way!”

De Angelis: “On the contrary. Everything that happened to us happened because we are who we are, so we want to continue the exact same way and stay ourselves.”

Just a few hours later, they are at the stage in Neukölln, bouncing around like pinballs, hammering at their instruments, flirting with each other. “We are out of our minds, but different from the others”, David sings their winning hymn against conformism, and: “The people talk, unfortunately they talk.” Here on stage, the four paradise birds [a German word describing someone with a flamboyant personality] with their half-nude-glittering outfits are radiating an incredible energy with the utmost sincerity, and you begin to wish there was a live audience instead of the TikTok cameras, absorbing and spreading this energy. Måneskin. A cry for a life after the pandemic, a cry for freedom and a better world.

“We do what we wished for all our lives.” – Ethan Torchio

[spencerspecifics]

HI HI HI PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE MOREID AT PRIDE AND SOME PINING AND SPENCER THINKS DEREK IS STRAIGHT BUT HE ISN'T AND THEY KIIIITTTTTHHHHH

I absolutely love your energy fuck yes!! I’m so sorry this took forever, ive got school, work and some other personal things happening so I appreciate your patience!

No TW, B u t, a creep hits on Spencer at pride, so if that is upsetting please note that! Thanks :)

———————————————————————

Pride

———————————————————————

Garcia had been pestering Spencer about going to pride for the past week now, and it was slowly driving him insane.

He used almost every excuse he could think of. When he first turned her down, he had simply said, “Sorry, I’m going to be busy that week.” And of course, Garcia being Garcia, she stole his calendar to see what he was busy with (spoiler alert: he had nothing. Except a reminder to go grocery shopping, and email some professors and research scientists back).

So, she persisted, and he came up with a dozen more excuses; “I was considering flying out to see my mom”, “The local museum has a new interactive archeology exhibit for adults, and I want to learn more about ancient structures”, “I have to do a presentation on thermodynamics”.

None of those excuses work, as she sniffed out every lie, “Spencer, you hate flying to Vegas last minute, that archaeology exhibit has been open for months, and your calendar is empty!”

So with her persistence, and legitimate bullying, Spencer found himself finally agreeing. “Fine, but come over to my apartment before we leave so you can help me.” After all, he wasn’t really familiar with pride parades, and what the scene was like there. He was going to be a fish out of water, he already knew that for certain.

~

True to her word, Garcia showed up an hour before the pride parade was set to start, carrying a coffee in each hand- how she possibly knocked on his apartment door, Spencer didn’t know.

“I brought you a pick me up, that way you have no excuse to be in a bad mood!” She spoke in her signature sing song voice as Spencer let her inside, she barreled in like a hurricane. God, Spencer wasn’t ready for this.

“Thanks..” Spencer decided to reply with that lame response, and not with what he was actually thinking. He took the coffee from her wordlessly as she stepped in further, going to sit down on his couch.

“You excited?” Garcia asked as she set her cup down on his cluttered coffee table. Reid just shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t do great with crowds.”

“But you do great with disarming murderers?” “You know that’s different-” Spencer said, doing his best to argue, “Reid it is literally not. Both are anxiety inducing, but one is life or death, and it’s not pride. So you can do this.”

Spencer sighed, resigning himself to not arguing with Garcia. Because she was right, though at times her arguments sounded wild. He just had to get over this anxiety and show up at pride, he could do this, right?

~

Wrong. So, very, wrong. They had left his apartment with thirty minutes to spare, deciding to walk over to where pride was being held- as it was only a few blocks away in a public park.

And as soon as they got there, Spencer wanted out. There were so many people, more than he estimated (and his estimations were usually spot on.), and there was just chaos everywhere. Music, dancing, shouting, singing, drag queens running around happily. Spencer wasn’t sure what to do. He was out of his element.

Garcia seemed to sense that, though, as she dragged Spencer over to some stalls that sold pride flags, pins, and other miscellaneous pride related things.

“C’mon Reid, why don’t you look around and find something you like?” She offered up, something for him to do- something for him to stay busy with. He could do that. Spencer nodded simply, Garcia stayed by his side- looking at pride related wear for herself.

~

Spencer ended up deciding on a small pin that simply said; “love all”, planning to stick it on his messenger bag strap. Garcia bought a pin as well, but hers just had her pronouns on them; “she/her/hers”.

Looking at all the pride apparel was a good distraction for Spencer, he felt a lot more calmer now- though that didn’t stop him from feeling like he stuck out like a sore thumb. He’s just not familiar with this world, and it’s awkward to suddenly be in the middle of it.

Spencer was in the middle of looking at another booth that sold flags, possibly considering buying himself a small one to stick in his pencil cup at work, because Garcia left him to go compliment a drag queen- when a voice broke through.

“Hey, pretty boy!”

That was a voice all too familiar, what on earth was Morgan doing here? Spencer looked up at him as he made his way towards him. “Hey,” Spencer spoke awkwardly. Not sure what to say.

Spencer was gay. He was fine with admitting he was gay, but he hadn’t really told the team. He thought they figured it out on their own. And they probably had, but still, having his coworker see him at a pride event- it was anxiety inducing.

“What’re- what’re you doing here?” Spencer asked, stumbling over his words as he dropped the small flag he was holding back onto the vendors table.

“Oh, well I’m on the local PFLAG committee. I’m just here to hand out flyers and stuff. But I’m glad to see you’re here, I’m guessing Garcia’s here too?” He asked Spencer casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Spencer.

He was on the PFLAG committee? Why? To help queer people, obviously, but that had to mean he was gay or something- Spencer couldn’t stop his mind from coming up with every possible answer to why Derek was on the committee.

Spencer just nodded in response, he moved himself back from the vendors table to get out of the way, so other customers could look at the flags being sold.

“Yeah, she’s- there.” Reid pointed her out, as if on cue she came out of the thick crowd that had started to gather back up, the parade portion of pride had concluded by now, and people were coming over to the vendors section.

“Hey, Babygirl!” Derek called over to her, and Garcia somehow lit up with a smile brighter than the one she was wearing before, “Well, hey!” She responded enthusiastically, walking up swiftly to give Derek a quick embrace, which he happily returned.

“I wasn’t sure how long you were staying for, but I’m glad I caught you!” Garcia started rambling to Derek, about how the drag queen she met was so nice; “Her name was Mysteria Hysteria. Isn’t that genius?”.

~

Spencer just stepped back from them both, not sure what to do, not sure if he fully belonged. Pride was a nice event, it was. But the longer he stood around, the more he felt like he should be leaving. Everyone was laughing and smiling, everyone was just happy. And Spencer couldn’t stop racking his brain. In the beginning, he couldn’t stop thinking because of his anxiety, but now he was searching his brain for a reason why Derek was here and what it meant.

Of course, a stupid large portion of Spencer’s mind went to “maybe Morgan likes men”, and then an even larger and stupider portion of his mind had the absurdity to think; “maybe he’s interested in me”. Which Spencer did not even want to remotely entertain, because if he fell down that rabbit hole, he’d never climb back out.

Because yes, he did like Derek. He liked him a lot, the start for his liking towards the man was innocuous enough- which is why it was a problem for Spencer. He didn’t realized he liked Morgan until it was too late. And now he had been battling these feelings for years. Spencer wasn’t ever going to act on them, he just had to live with them- which he had been doing, which he has been content with. But this new information, about Morgan being here, being part of PFLAG- it was going to make Reid’s mind implode in on itself.

~

Reid decided the best thing was to say; “I’m gonna get some water, I’ll be back.” To which Derek and Garcia both nodded to, and Spencer was off, away from the vendors stand and the only two people he knew at pride.

And while that was a good thing, it was simultaneously not so good. Because now he was alone, overwhelmed, and thinking too much. And now he had a task to do, find himself some water.

~

That task seemed to be more difficult than anticipated, as the prides layout was a confusing maze, spencer had to pass in front of a group of drag queens in order to get to the food trucks that were on site- but he eventually got there.

He walked up to the first food truck he saw, it didn’t matter what they sold, he wasn’t getting it.

“What can I get for you?” The cashier asked him, “Just a water, please.” He ordered, the cashier nodded and pulled a bottle out from a cooler that was nearby within the truck, handing it over to spencer as they told him his total, a dollar twenty five. Spencer paid quickly, stepping back and away from the food truck, as he wasn’t sure where else to go now. He didn’t want to go back towards Derek or Garcia, he honestly wanted to go home.

He just needed a minute, some space and time to breathe and relax. He was stressing himself out. And about what? Nothing of goddamn importance, just a stupid crush he had been living with for a while now.

~

Spencer had been leaning against the back the food truck for not long, only a couple of minutes as he was absorbed in thought as he fiddled with the cap on the water bottle.

He was doing his best to follow the grounding techniques he had learned, something to help him calm down, when suddenly- a stranger emerged out of the crowd.

“Hey there, handsome.” The man said confidently as he strode up to introduce himself Spencer. Spencer looked up to meet his eyes, the man in question was a fine looking guy, chiseled jawline, long shoulder length hair, a bit of facial stubble. He was handsome. “Hello,” Spencer answered hollowly in response. In an ordinary situation, he would try and seem more lively- but he wasn’t in a normal situation, not at all.

The anxiety of attending pride was stress enough on its own, but now knowing the guy he had been drooling over for years was here- and worked as a PFLAG volunteer? It was enough to make him lose his mind.

The man didn’t seem to notice Spencer’s empty response, however, as he answered suavely in response; “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the way. I’m Fabian,” Thankfully, the man- Fabian, didn’t stick his hand out for a handshake, instead casually pushing his hair back a bit.

“I’m Spencer,” Reid replied simply, knowing it was best to ride this odd social interaction out, rather than try and fight it. “That’s a lovely name,” Fabian complimented, “Is this your first time at pride, Spencer?” He asked him casually, taking a step forward, closer to Spencer. He was all too confident for Spencer, he too comfortable with invading Spencer’s space. If Spencer could’ve, he would’ve stepped back.

“Uh, yeah. My friend dragged me along.” Reid explained, twisting the bottle cap back onto his half empty water bottle. Fabian nodded, “Your boyfriend didn’t take you?” Fabian asked him. That was a leading question, Spencer had alarm bells ringing in his head the second he heard it. “No. He- um- he met up with us here.” Spencer replied unconvincingly, Fabian obviously did not believe a word he said.

“Well,” Fabian took another step forward, practically blocking Reid in against the back of the food truck, leaning in farther to whisper in Spencer’s ear; “I don’t see him around. So, why don’t you and I get out of here? Hm?”

Spencer wasn’t sure of what to do. He wanted to kick this guy in the crotch and just book it, but he wasn’t sure if his FBI status would protect him in this scenario. He wasn’t sure what could protect him in this scenario.

“Pretty boy! There you are!” A saving grace broke through, and suddenly Fabian was stepping back, and Morgan was walking up.

Thank god, thank fucking god, that’s all Spencer could manage to think as Derek came to stand beside him. “Hey, babe.” Spencer said, cringing at his voice, at what he just said. But that feeling only lasted for a moment as Fabian was still standing right there, staring them both down now.

Spencer could only throw his wish in the sky and hope Derek caught it coming down, ‘please catch along to why I’m calling you babe’ Reid was trying to say.

And Derek caught it, “Hey, baby, was worried about you. Who’s your friend?” He said in his smooth voice, a voice Spencer couldn’t forget. He especially couldn’t forget now, being called ‘baby’ was something Spencer especially could not forget.

“I’m Fabian, you’re Spencer’s boyfriend?” Fabian asked, as if them both calling each other ‘babe’ counted for nothing. “Yeah, I’m Derek.” Morgan responded simply, sliding his hand around Spencer’s waist as if to prove a point. Fabian just nodded, looking between Spencer and Derek one last time before talking; “Well, it was nice to meet you, I’ve gotta get going. See you.”

And then, he was off, fast walking away from Derek and Reid, escaping the terrible situation he had created. Fabian quickly disappeared into the thick crowd, and by then Spencer had his hand squeezing his water bottle all too tightly- as evident by the terrible crunch sound it made. He was too anxious to let go.

“Hey, are you okay?” Derek asked him softly, pulling his hand away from Spencer’s waist. “Can we find somewhere else- can we go sit down?” Spencer asked him quickly. Reid didn’t want to talk about it right this second, right where it had happened. He wanted to leave, he wanted to leave pride and never come back.

~

Derek didn’t ask a single follow up question as he led Reid away from the food trucks, taking him back towards the vendors stands, and then a bit further back, into the normal-not-so-pride-parade-filled park area. Somewhere less stressful, less scary.

“What did that guy want?” Derek asked Spencer casually as they made their way towards a bench that was sat under a large oak tree. Spencer didn’t speak right away, instead he waited until they were seated to start talking.

“He was trying to flirt, but then he wanted me to leave with him.” Spencer explained as he took a deep breath in, just being away from all the loud sounds and sights was helping him calm down. Derek rubbed Spencer’s back in slow, circular motions as Spencer kept talking.

“He was a classic example of a narcissistic personality, it just made me so uncomfortable- he invaded my space.”

“He was a creep, Reid. Simple as that,” Derek kept rubbing Spencer’s back slowly, Spencer nodded. “I know. Sorry, it shook me up.” Spencer attempted to apologized, and Derek was immediately having none of that.

“Reid, no. Don’t apologize for that, don’t you dare. He was a creep, I’m sorry you got caught up with him. It’s okay if you’re shaken up. We can stay here until you feel up to going back, or we can leave. But I’m not leaving you.”

~

And so they sat for a good amount of time on that park bench, at one point Derek stopped rubbing Spencer’s back, instead just keeping his arm stretched out against the back of the bench and against Spencer’s back. Spencer loved it, but he knew if he thought about it for too long he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking. That was his biggest problem, he couldn’t stop thinking.

He had to know, he decided, he couldn’t just wonder why Derek was on the committee for PFLAG. He wanted to know, he had to.

“Derek?” He spoke up softly, sounds of laughing and shouting and music were still heard in the distance, but they were safe from the sounds under the tree. “Mhm?” Derek hummed in response, looking up at the aforementioned tree that was providing shade for them.

His eyes were tracing the way the branches curved and bent around each other, it was something he did to pass the time. Spencer thought he was extraordinary for it, Derek loved to see where things went; he was curious- after all these years, and all the bad they had seen together, Derek still loved to search and find the beauty.

“Why are you on the PFLAG committee ?” Spencer asked him, it was thankfully an innocuous enough ask to not draw too much of Derek profilings side out to pry apart his question. Derek shrugged, and was quiet for a second before responding, “I know what it’s like to be a scared kid, unsure of his identity. If I can help someone through that, that’s all that matters. Same reason I’m in the BAU, to help people.”

Spencer stayed quiet, Derek’s reason was so sincere and so sweet and kind- and only driving him to think further. Was Derek still unsure of his identity? Was he an ally? Why did he have to make Spencer swoon so hard without even trying?

“So, you’re just an ally?” Spencer approached Derek carefully with that question, not wanting to impose or be rude- but just feign simple curiosity, praying Derek wasn’t using his profiling skills right now to decode Spencer’s fake motive.

Derek didn’t notice, thankfully, as he chuckled lowly in response; “No, pretty boy, I’m bisexual. I don’t really tell the team, but it’s not confidential information. Plus, Garcia found Grindr on my phone. Can’t hide anything from that girl.”

Spencer nodded, mumbling something in response about how Garcia had hacked his email to make sure he was free for pride. And then, the two fell into silence again. But it didn’t last for long, because Derek wanted to know just as much, why was Spencer here?

“What about you, Reid?” Derek asked him cautiously, the way you approach a puppy you find on the side of the road. Calm and slow, trying to get him to trust him bit by bit. “What about me?” Spencer asked, not wanting to answer anything about himself unless Derek was specific.

“Are you an ally?” Morgan asked him, leaving the question open ended. Spencer could say as little or as much as he wanted. This is how you get him to open up, Derek knew that for a fact. “Um.. yeah, I mean- who isn’t? I just- I have to be. I’m.. gay.” Spencer admitted all too awkwardly, not at all in a normal fashion. But nothing about Spencer was in normal fashion.

Derek nodded slowly, not responding as he stared back up, tracing his eyes over the tree branches yet again.

~

A few hours had passed, Spencer and Derek eventually left their peaceful bench under the large oak tree, and instead moved back towards the parking lot.

“Garcia’s got a ride home already- I think she got that drag queen to get her home.” Derek explained as they approached his truck, Spencer nodded as he followed Derek. “Anyways,” Derek continued speaking, “I can give you a ride home. Let’s get going.”

“You don’t have to-“ Spencer started, Derek immediately shut him down. “I want to, c’mon. It’s late, you’re tired. I know you are. Let me take you home.” Spencer just nodded in agreement, he couldn’t argue with Derek, even if he did try. Morgan was a stubborn man.

So, Spencer followed Derek into his truck, and they sat in comfortable silence as they started on their journey back to Spencer’s safe space, his apartment.

~

By the time Derek pulled his truck into the apartments parking lot, Spencer knew something was just the slightest bit wrong. Derek had barely spoken for the entire ride, and usually he loves to say something, to make Spencer smile or laugh, or even just nod and mumble in agreement. But he had done none of that on the way to Spencers.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, turning to face Derek as he put the vehicle in park. Derek didn’t meet his eyes, staring at the steering wheel instead as he spoke; “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just thinking.”

“About what?” Spencer pried, absentmindedly unbuckling his seatbelt as he spoke, “About today.” Derek said, not explaining further. “Was today bad?”

Derek shook his head, “No. It started weird, it’s ending pretty good, though. But I’m gonna regret today forever if I don’t do something right now.”

Now, Spencer was confused. Not sure at all what Derek could be talking about, “What do you mean?” He asked, voice quieter than before.

Derek said nothing as he unbuckled his own seatbelt, turning to face Spencer as well, and then he leaned in- closer than they had ever been before. Their noses were almost touching, and Spencer didn’t move. Instead, he watched Derek’s eyes expectantly.

Then, Derek broke through, they were no longer intersecting each other’s personal space- now they were fully destroying each other’s atmospheres. Derek’s lips were on Spencer’s, a chaste, soft, quick kiss- something Spencer would have wanted to go for a lot longer. But then, he pulled away just as fast.

“...That’s what I meant..” He mumbled after a second, looking back towards the steering wheel, looking away from Spencer- and more importantly, not seeing the smile on Spencer’s face.

Spencer couldn’t help it. He knew it was terrible to be smiling right now- he should jump and say something to fix what was happening. But he had to smile, he couldn’t believe that had actually just happened, his brain was still computing and re-circuiting, trying to savor the memory and not forget how Derek’s lips felt against his.

Spencer dragged himself out of his own head quickly, though. He did all he could think of to do in the moment, get Derek back. “Morgan.” Spencer said, tugging on Derek’s sleeve as he did so, forcing him to look back at Spencer and meet his eyes again.

But Spencer didn’t say anything, and he didn’t give Derek the chance to speak, either. Instead, he leant forward, pressing his lips against Derek’s. This is all he had wanted to know for the longest time, and now he had it.

~

Maybe pride wasn’t so bad after all, you just have to be with the right people for it to work out.

———————————————————————

[khaleesiofalicante]

“Mom!” Alec hissed.

His mother didn’t turn back.

“Mooooom,” he called her again – and this time she turned back. “I want to go home."

“Alec, we just got here!” his mother said incredulously as they checked their coats into the coakroom.

The guy in the cloakroom gave Alec a token for their coats.

Jesus Fucking Christ. What kind of house has a cloakroom?

His mother was right. They had barely been here for 10 minutes. But Alec already wanted to leave.

“I’m feeling sick,” Alec said. “I should go back home.”

He coughed awkwardly. He was a decent liar.

“What’s wrong?” his mother looked momentarily concerned.

“Uh,” Alec said, not prepared at all. “I got my period.”

Yeah, so that ‘decent liar’ bit might have been an exaggeration.

“Alec,” his mother sighed. “You think I want to do this? This family is one of our largest donors to the university. As the dean, I have to be here. So do you.”

Alec groaned.

As the president of the queer alliance at Idris University, Alec knew he had to talk to people to get the funding they needed. But Alec hated people and he hated talking. He wished Lily or Maia were here instead.

“I know you have your own ways,” his mother said through her teeth as she smiled at one of the guests who was waving at her. “But you need their support. It’s how the game is played.”

“I hate playing the game,” Alec said through his teeth as he cheerily waved at one of the lecturers.

“You know the rules,” she turned to him and adjusted his bowtie. “Just smile and play nice.”

“But-”

“Be charming ,” she interrupted. “That's how fundraising works.”

Alec pouted and then gave her tight nod.

“Albert!” she shouted at one of the guests and made her way towards the old man.

Alec was about to let out a dramatic sigh when a waiter emerged from nowhere.

“Champagne, sir?”

“Thank you,” Alec picked up the flute. “Damn, this is heavy.”

“Crystal, sir,” the waiter pointed.

Alec’s hands suddenly felt very sweaty. He wiped them clumsily on his suit jacket and held the champagne flute carefully.

Another waiter emerged upon him, holding a tray of hors d’oeuvres.

“What’s that?” Alec pointed at the tray.

“Caviar, sir,” the waiter replied.

“Is that cinnamon?” Alec asked at the sprinkled dust on top of the caviar thingies.

If it was cinnamon, he could maybe eat it and have an instant allergic reaction.

Then maybe his mother would let him go home. He hoped.

“Not cinnamon, sir,” the waiter said as Alec took one and popped into his mouth. “It’s edible gold.”

“What?” Alec asked, his mouth full of caviar.

And gold apparently.

“It’s a caviar and crème fraîche tartlet,” the waiter announced in a surprisingly perfect French accent. “Topped with edible gold.”

“You are telling me this is gold?” Alec asked, chewing the food self-consciously. “I’m eating actual gold?”

“Uh, yes sir,” the waiter said awkwardly.

“But why?” Alec demanded, chewing his food angrily now. “Does it improve the taste?”

“No, sir,” the waiter looked embarrassed. “It’s…pretty.”

Alec looked around in disbelief as the waiter made his escape.

Here he was trying to find a couple of thousand dollars to raise funds for his alliance and these people were sprinkling gold on their food for aesthetic.

“Fuck the rich,” Alec muttered.

“Pardon?” someone said from behind him.

Ah, shit! Alec really hoped it was not one of the professors at the university – or worse, one of the donors.

But when he turned around, it was neither.

It was in fact the most beautiful man Alec had ever seen.

“Uh,” Alec said eloquently.

“You were saying something about fucking the rich,” the man smiled. “If it’s a cult, I’m very much interested.”

“Not a cult,” Alec clarified – when he managed to find his voice. Jesus! “Just a personal motto of mine.”

“Very interesting motto you have there…”

“Alec,” he finished. “Alexander.”

Why did he say his full name? He never did that. Alec could be such a weirdo in front of gorgeous men.

“Nice to meet you, Alexander,” the other man said, and Alec’s momentary regret vanished instantly.

He suddenly loved his name. Maybe a little too much.

“I’m Magnus,” the man held out a hand and Alec shook it – and hoped his palm wasn’t as sweaty as before. “Are you here to donate?”

“Pfft,” Alec couldn’t help but snort. “Right. Cause these people need more money.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at charity, Alexander,” Magnus chided. “It’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

“What’s this charity for anyway?” Alec asked, because he hadn’t even bothered to ask his mom and spent the whole drive here complaining about the university budget allocations instead.

“The rowing club,” Magnus replied.

“The rowing club?” Alec demanded angrily.

They were a bunch of elite dude bros and were the last people that needed charity.

“They are hoping to purchase new equipment,” Magnus pointed out.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Alec complained. “They don’t even need a fundraiser. They can afford that shit in so many other ways. Like ask them sell one of their Rolexes or Lamborghinis. Charity is for people who don’t have alternatives.”

Magnus blinked and Alec realized he had lost his cool a little.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “It’s just…it isn’t fair.”

“The rowing club boys are right there,” Magnus whispered as he pointed at the buffet. “They might hear you and think you are jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Alec replied. “I’m outraged that we live in a society that prioritizes the needs of the marginalized over the wants of the privileged.”

Usually this was the point when the other person would give him an awkward smile and escaped immediately from Alec’s boring rants.

But Magnus didn’t look awkward or bored. In fact, his lips curved a little as he gestured Alec to one of the banquet tables.

“Tell me more,” Magnus said as he sat down.

Alec wasn’t really sure what to say. He wasn’t used to reaching this stage of the conversation.

“Fancy new rowing equipment is a want. They can live without their latest gadget and just make do with the equipment they have,” Alec elaborated. “But the safety of queer youth in our university is definitely a need. It’s not something they should have to compromise.”

“The safety of the queer youth?” Magnus frowned. “How are they at risk?”

“There has been increased reporting of cyber bullying by queer students at the university,” Alec sighed. “Our existing reporting mechanisms don’t work.”

“Well, they could complain to HR and-”

“Magnus, when has HR got anything done?” Alec asked.

Magnus frowned again.

“Our data shows that over 60% of the victims of cyber bullying at the university are not only queer, but also people of colour,” Alec elabored. “So, these attacks are racially motivated too.”

“Why isn’t the university doing anything about it?” Magnus demanded, now sounding angry too. “The dean-”

“She is doing the best she can,” Alec intervened – because he knew that to be true. “We have a zero tolerance policy and that works at campus. But on social media..Well, that’s a whole other thing, isn’t it? You can’t really control what other people say or do.”

Magnus frowned again.

Alec realized that he liked it better when the other man smiled. Maybe he was as boring and depressing as everyone said.

“So, what do we do?” Magnus asked.

“We?” Alec blinked.

“I’m a student at the university too,” Magnus said. “Well, I just transferred from London. But still. As a bisexual man and a person of color, I need to be a part of this.”

Alec was beyond happy that someone understood the importance of his cause. It was hard enough to find people who supported the alliance.

But instead of thanking Magnus for his support, Alec’s mouth said “You’re bisexual?”

“And part-Indonesian,” Magnus replied. “So, what do we do, Alexander?”

Alec blinked. “Well, uh, the alliance has been trying to create an app that provides counseling support for queer youth who face bullying online. We can’t really completely get rid of the bullying. That might never happen. But the least we can do is give support for the victims, right?”

Magnus smiled. And yeah, Alec definitely liked it better.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Magnus said.

“Well, it’s just an idea,” Alec shrugged. “We still need to find the funding.”

“Well, why haven’t you?” Magnus asked.

“Because the donors obviously have other priorities,” Alec rolled his eyes, gesturing at the party.

“Oh,” Magnus said.

“But I think if we steal a plate of those caviar thingies, we might be able to scrap off the gold dust and gather a few hundred dollars,” Alec joked.

But Magnus didn’t laugh. Instead he leaped off his chair, ran towards the stage and grabbed the mic.

First of all, why was there a stage? Second of all, what was Magnus doing?

Third of all, who was he? Was he performer for the fundraiser or something?

He did have a really nice voice, Alec noted to himself. Among other nice things.

“Excuse me, everyone!” Magnus called into the mic and everyone turned their attention to him. “I’m Magnus Bane. My father and I are absolutely thrilled to have you at our home this evening.”

Alec, who was sipping on his champagne, most certainly did not choke at that. This was…Magnus’ home?

He was the biggest donor to the university? Or his father was…But whatever.

Alec’s ‘fuck the rich’ motto seemed a little too ironic - maybe even appropriate - right now.

“As the captain of the rowing team,” Magnus said, and Alec did not choke again. “I’ve just heard word from my brothers that there has been a change of plans.”

The rowing club, still standing by the buffet and hogging all the food, looked very confused.

“The rowing club has officially decided to throw a car wash at the university,” Magnus announced and the crowd started whispering around.

“Dude, isn’t that what chicks do?” one of the dude bros laughed.

“Exactly, Chad!” Magnus yelled. “We will be raising money and dismantling the patriarchy at the same time. It’s a win-win!”

A loud cheer went through the room but some people still looked confused.

“But what about the fundraiser?” a woman who was wearing too many pearly necklaces asked. “Are we not making donations today?”

“Yes, we are Mrs. Morgenstern,” Magnus winked at her. “But all donations from today’s event will go the queer alliance of the Idris University. They are raising money to fund an app to provide psychosocial support to victims of cyber bullying.”

Alec noticed his mother turn to look at him in disbelief. Alec shrugged helplessly.

“Is it really necessary though?” an old man from one of the tables asked and Alec had half a mind to dump his champagne on the man’s head. “Can’t they just have one of those support groups where they sit in a circle and talk to each other?”

“They are victims of targeted harassment, Mr. Starkweather,” Magnus replied politely. “They need support that is consistent, reliable and professional. It seems rather unfair to ask victims to support themselves instead of providing them with the required resources.”

“But aren’t they asking for too much?” a blonde woman asked.

“The app will ensure their safety and mental health. They are asking for the bare minimum,” Magnus answered, and Alec noticed the flash of anger in his eyes.

“But if the problem is cyber bullying,” another man in a suit demanded. “Why can’t we just ask them to stay off the internet?”

“Because that would be homophobic,” Magnus said through gritted teeth - but still smiling. Alec knew that look. “The queer students are not the problem. The internet is not at fault either. It’s people and their privilege. It’s people and their inability to treat others with respect – online and offline. These are students. We can’t restrict their access to the internet. For many queer youth, the internet is the only place that is safe enough to express themselves without fear or judgment. So, instead of asking them to stay off the internet, maybe we should consider asking the bullies and homophobes to practice basic human decency.”

“Damn, son!” someone whistled impressively.

Alec knew that whistle. He was going to hug the hell out of his mother later.

There was a moment of silence in the room, then a man approached the stage and pulled Magnus into a hug.

“What an excellent idea, Magnus!” the man who looked very much like Magnus beamed.

“It’s not my idea,” Magnus said. “All the credit goes to the alliance.”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet this alliance!” Mr. Bane nodded in approval. “Ladies and Gentlemen! What a fine cause! What an important change in action! Allow me to be the first to support these brave and inspiring group of young people.”

“Thank you, Bapa!” Magnus smiled sweetly. “It’s so wonderful to see you supporting this cause. This is going to go viral on the internet.”

The moment Magnus said the words viral and internet, multiple guests got off their seats and started heading towards the donations table.

“He knows how to play the game,” Alec's mother said as she walked up to him. “He would make a fine addition to your alliance, Alec. You should ask him to join.”

“I will. He is bisexual,” Alec replied.

“He is also very handsome,” his mother pointed out innocently.

“Don't even!” Alec pointed a finger at her as she chuckled and joined the crowd.

By the end of the night, the fundraiser had gatherd thrice the amount the alliance needed to create the app.

“So…” he said as he approached Magnus. “I wanted to say thank you.”

“I was wondering maybe you could say it on Saturday,” Magnus suggested.

“Saturday?” Alec raised an eyebrow.

“The car wash, Alexander!” Magnus pouted. “I was here for your fundraiser. It’s only fair that you come for mine.”

“Well, that depends,” Alec said. “Will you be wearing a bikini?”

“Nah,” Magnus chuckled. “I was hoping to go shirtless.”

“In that case, you’ll definitely see me there,” Alec said seriously.

He didn’t even have a car. But he could always egg Jace’s car and take it.

“You want to get out of here?” Magnus asked, pointing at the crowd.

“Uh, isn’t this like your party or something?” Alec asked. “Shouldn’t you be here to entertain the guests?”

Magnus looked around and shrugged. “Fuck the rich.”

Alec couldn’t help but grin at that. He took Magnus’ hand as they ran towards the garden.

Fuck the rich indeed.

- For @radisv​ for being amazing. Always. Happy Birthday. ILY!

[mariana-oconnor]

Movie star Bucky Barnes falls in love with his bodyguard, Clint Barton. ❤️❤️❤️

This one took me a while because, while I love the prompt, this isn't a dynamic I've ever really worked with before, so it took a while to wrangle my ideas into something I could actually write.

Also, although I kept it pretty lighthearted (I think), this one comes with some warnings:

Homophobia

Non-consensual outing as gay (prior to fic)

Homophobic hate crime

Canon-typical violence

Slight mention of extreme dieting and impossible body standards

If any of that stuff might cause you problems, you should probably avoid this fic.

*

Bucky’s never going to get used to seeing twenty foot posters of himself, abs out and glistening, glaring at the camera like it slept with his boyfriend. It doesn’t help that the pictures are photoshopped to hell and back. His abs have never been that defined in his life, even after three months of steamed chicken and workouts. He’s not sure that abs can be that defined without some sort of surgery.

The film isn’t as… gratuitous as the posters make it seem. Compared to the last few blockbusters he’s been involved in - there is no comparison. This film has heart, and he just hopes that it doesn’t flop like he’s afraid it will. It feels like a turning point, and not just because this is the first premiere he’s been to since the world found out he’s gay.

It’s hard to be a leading man in Hollywood if you’re out. It’s even harder when what you’re known for is playing action heroes who punch first, ask questions later.

He smiles for the cameras, answers a few questions with his best smile and optimistic look, but he’s always aware of the steady presence just at the edge of his vision. Clint has his serious face on today, aware that bodyguards are supposed to look the part. He says he channels Bucky’s trademark scowl, and he laughs when Bucky rolls his eyes. It’s good to know that someone here is on his side, though. Especially after the threats.

“What appealed to you about playing Robin Hood?” the interviewer asks and Bucky rolls out his usual response. “And how has coming out as gay affected your work?”

Bucky smiles through the urge to beat him to death with his own microphone. It’s not a question he hasn’t heard before. It’s been the main question on everyone’s lips in every interview since the pictures surfaced online the day before the biggest convention in the country.

“It’s been wild,” he says, smiling as carefree a smile as he can. “The response from the fans has just been overwhelming. I’ve had so much support. I’m so grateful that my fans are so amazing and that they’ve made this a positive experience for me. I can’t thank them enough and I want them to know that I love all of them.”

“And are there any prospective love interests on the horizon? We’ve heard that you and your co-star Brock Rumlow were getting pretty close on set.”

“Brock’s a great guy,” Bucky lies through his teeth. “Working with him on this film - he makes a great Prince John - has just been great. And I’m glad for the opportunity to meet him. But I hate to disappoint, there’s nothing romantic there.” No chance for any friendship, either, after Bucky found out exactly who leaked those photographs. “He’s happy in his current relationship, and I’m just happy to be living my life openly and with no more secrets.”

She says something more and then reels off into her outro for the interview, letting Bucky shuffle off to the next in line and more of the same questions.

There are kids with rainbow pins stretching out their notebooks for autographs and he signs them all, smiles and tries to say something to as many as he can. He never asked to be a role model to queer youth, but that’s where he is.

His fingers and his cheeks ache by the time Clint rests a firm hand on his shoulder and starts to guide him further along again.

“That went pretty well,” Bucky mutters to him, although he feels drained.

“You’re doing great,” Clint tells him and gives a double thumbs up. “And you look way hotter than Rumlow.” He winks.

Sometimes Clint says something like that and Bucky’s mind takes a detour down roads he should have blocked off years ago.

“Barnes!” Rumlow calls out, and Bucky can’t let the spike of annoyance show on his face, not with the camera flashes and camera phones all around him.

“Brock,” he says with the broadest smile he can manage.

“Let’s get a few of us together,” Brock says, and steps towards Bucky, stopped only by Clint turning into the way, a bland smile. He looks Clint up and down. “Your guard dog’s a bit eager today. Call him off.”

“It’s fine, Clint,” Bucky says. He knew this was coming anyway. Brock’s a jackass, but he’s a fan favourite. Photos of the two of them together, pretending to like each other, will be great for the film. So Bucky swings an arm around Brock’s neck before Brock can take control of the pose, and turns to the cameras with his best smile.

“How’ve you been?” Brock asks. “I heard you missed out on a spot in that new spy thriller going around.”

Bucky knows the film Brock’s talking about, he wouldn’t exactly call it a spy thriller. More a desperate love song to American firearms. Brock’s right, though, it’s exactly the kind of role that they usually tap him for and he hasn’t heard a thing. Bucky doesn’t know whether to be grateful or concerned.

“I’m thinking I might go back to my roots,” Bucky says, remembering the Best Supporting Actor Oscar that sits in his trophy cabinet. Everything had seemed so full of possibility back then, before he’d ended up in the action movie factory and scripts had slowly dwindled down to one liners between punching people in the face.

Robin Hood had been an attempt to move away from that. A costume drama, a script that was more than just fight scenes and explosions, an actual political statement. Now even that’s a minefield.

“Yeah, probably best to stick to the roles you’re more suited for,” Brock says, the smile never dropping from his face.

And there it is, the sting in the tail. People are going to say he shouldn’t be an action hero because he’s gay, because he’s not ‘manly enough’ and they’ll claim he can’t play straight enough with the lead actresses - that the romance can’t be believable - and he feels like he should prove them wrong. But he’s been trying to get out of that rut for years, but if he makes it out - he feels like he’ll be betraying everything by agreeing with the stereotypes.

“Mr Barnes,” Clint says, “We should keep moving.” his voice remarkably professional if you didn’t know it was his best impression of Bucky’s voice from The Final Death. He especially likes to quote Bucky’s most famous lines. It’s very annoying.

But today it feels like a life raft in the middle of an ocean swarming with sharks, and Bucky takes it gratefully, letting Clint guide him out of the mess of people who all want their pound of flesh.

“You’re doing great,” Clint mutters, in his own voice again. “Just remember - No one can stop the Winter Soldier.”

Bucky glares at him, but mostly because that’s what he does when Clint echoes his stupidest lines. It had used to feel like mockery, now it feels like friendship, like the two of them are in on some stupid joke together.

Bucky wants to walk right through and out the other side, but he’s not going to. His sister Becca’s inside, waiting for him and-

The sound of smashing glass hits at the same time Clint slams into him. He knocks Bucky to the ground. He’s saying something that Bucky can’t make out, and grabbing Bucky, half pushing, half pulling him over to the side - to cover, Bucky thinks numbly - staying between Bucky and the window, gun drawn.

“I’ve got Barnes. I can only see one shooter. Can anyone confirm?”

Someone beyond the window is shouting slurs. Bucky catches a glimpse of a man being tacked to the ground by security guards before Clint pushes him back against the wall.

“Stay down!” he hisses. Bucky tries to catch his breath. His brain still a mess, trying to piece things together because it doesn’t make sense. He’s had death threats, but they weren’t… No one was going to pick up a gun and try to kill him. He’s just an actor. He punches out stunt guys and makes terrible faces and says dumb one-liners in a voice that makes him sound like he’s been chewing gravel. He’s not the kind of person someone shoots down in the street. And there are people out there - kids, who came here for him, and they're out there being shot at and-

“Is everyone okay?” he asks. Clint turns to him. “Is everyone okay out there? Did anyone get hit?” He twists and tries to look out of the window again, but Clint shoves him back.

“Stay down,” Clint tells him. He looks more serious than Bucky’s ever seen him before, and there’s… there’s blood on his hand where it’s pinning Bucky against the wall. Bucky thinks it’s his for a second before he realises that there’s no pain.

“You’re shot,” he says.

“I’m fine,” Clint tells him.

“You’re bleeding,” Bucky says, reaching for Clint’s jacket.

“Stop moving,” Clint tells him. “Seriously. I’m fine. We need to wait for the all clear.”

“We need to stop you bleeding,” Bucky counters, pulling back Clint’s jacket and wincing at the red spreading over the crisp white shirt. “Shit.”

“It’s a graze,” Clint says.

“You are not a medical professional.”

“I’m wearing kevlar. I’m fine. It didn’t hit anything important,” Clint says.

“You’re important,” Bucky points out and Clint blinks, staring at him like Bucky’s speaking in a different language.

“Look, when we get the all clear, we’ll both get checked out by the paramedics, okay?” Clint says, slowly.

Bucky lets out a long breath and nods.

“Fuck, Barnes. I know your career’s in the toilet, but this is some fucking stunt,” Rumlow’s voice bursts out.

Bucky pushes to his feet as Rumlow stalks across the atrium towards him, but Clint’s already there - then there’s a blur of movement as Rumlow stumbles and twists, crashing headfirst into the wall.

“You need to be more careful, Mr Rumlow,” Clint says. “I mistook you for a second assailant.”

Rumlow’s nose is pouring blood, and probably broken and he’s swearing at Clint.

“Just doing my job, Mr Rumlow,” Clint says. “Sorry.”

Rumlow is pulled away by his own security team, who give Clint unpleasant glares, and Bucky steadies himself. His hands are shaking. Clint turns to reach for him.

“No one in the crowd seems to have been hurt,” he says, and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. He never wanted to put anyone in danger. “And it looks like there was just one idiot with a gun out there, so we’re good.”

“You’re still bleeding,” Bucky points out and Clint sighs, as though being reminded of the fact that he’s been shot is somehow tiresome.

“I know, I know. You’re a mother hen. I’ll get it checked out. But you need to be, too. You’re probably in shock.”

The EMTs find them and are very amused by the way they keep shoving each other forwards to be checked over.

Bucky tries not to stare as Clint strips off his jacket, shirt, kevlar vest, and undershirt so the EMTs can see the bullet wound. He seems unconcerned by the partial nudity as the nurse pronounces it a graze, more interested in giving Bucky a triumphant look.

Bucky tries to respond in as normal a manner as he can.

His phone is blowing up - his sister, his ma, Steve, Natasha. As soon as he’s sure that Clint’s not going to die and the EMT has pronounced him understandably shaken, but otherwise perfectly healthy, he steps to one side to call them back - his sister first, as she’s around here somewhere - but he doesn’t let Clint out of his sight.

“I don’t need hospital,” Clint is protesting as Bucky's talking to Steve.

“Hang on a second,” Bucky tells Steve, striding over. “If they say you should go to hospital, you’re going to the damn hospital.” Clint looks at him.

“It’s barely a scratch.”

“It’s a bullet wound,” Bucky tells him.

“It’s a little bullet wound,” Clint argues.

“Can I come with him?” Bucky asks, bypassing Clint altogether to speak to the EMT, who nods. He turns back to Clint.

“We’re going to the hospital,” he says. He puts the phone back to his ear. “Steve, I’m gonna have to-”

“I heard,” Steve says. He sounds amused.

“Is Clint being shot funny to you?” Bucky asks.

“No,” Steve says. “Just the way you two bicker like an old married couple. You should offer to kiss it better, Buck.”

“Steve-” Bucky says.

“Just go and hold his hand, you know you want to,” Steve says, talking over Bucky’s protests. “I'm just glad you're okay. Tell him I say thanks for saving your dumb ass.” Bucky says something that makes the EMT’s eyebrows fly up their forehead and Clint laugh brightly, until he clutches his side in pain.

“Okay, laughing is bad,” Clint says, his face crumpling.

“Idiot,” Bucky mutters, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Stop hurting yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Clint repeats. “This is nothing.” He stretches out his torso and points to a puckered scar on his abs and Bucky tries valiantly to pay attention to what Clint’s saying and not the way every breath he takes makes his abs flex slightly. They look better than Bucky's ever do. “This one,” Clint says, tapping the scar. “I got stabbed by this woman with a crazy-ass curved knife. I was in surgery for three hours after she tried to rearrange my insides.”

“How is that supposed to make me feel better?” Bucky asks. The EMTs start to lead them over to the ambulance.

“I’m just telling you how hard it is to kill me,” Clint says. “So you can stop worrying.”

“I’m not worried,” Bucky denies automatically. The EMT hides a cough behind her hand as she closes the ambulance doors behind them.

“Sure you aren’t,” Clint tells him with a wink. “I knew you liked me really.”

“Do you know how much work it is to find a new bodyguard?” Bucky asks. “If you get yourself killed there are all sorts of forms I have to fill out.”

“You have people to do that for you,” Clint says. A smile is spreading across his face, which seems highly inappropriate to Bucky, although when has Clint ever been appropriate. “You’re worried. Because I got shot.”

“Most people would consider that a reasonable response,” Bucky points out, crossing his arms over his chest. “Steve says thank you, Becca says you should ask for a raise, and my ma wants to hold a parade in your honour.” Clint beams even more broadly.

“I love parades,” he says. “Can there be fireworks?” he looks a little spacey and Bucky turns to the EMT in the back with them.

“I gave him some painkillers,” he says, looking between them with poorly concealed amusement. “He’s probably going to be out of it for a while.” Bucky breathes a sigh and feels the adrenaline draining away from him.

“Aw, you shouldn’t look sad,” Clint tells him, reaching out a hand to pat him. “You’re awesome. Rumlow’s a dick. I can’t believe you ever fucked that guy.”

“I-” Bucky looks at the EMT who mimes locking their mouth and throwing away the key. His publicist is going to have a field day with the NDAs. “Clint.”

“I mean, sure he’s hot, but he’s the worst,” Clint says. “And you’re Bucky Fucking Barnes, you could have anyone.”

“Clint,” Bucky repeats. His head is starting to ache and he doesn’t have the energy for this right now.

“You’re awesome,” Clint says again, with a slight urgency to it, like it’s important Bucky knows this.

“I’m awesome,” Bucky repeats, and Clint smiles bright and sunny, and then his head falls back and he lets out a massive snore. Bucky looks over at the EMT who gives a slightly helpless smile.

“Uh…” Bucky says.

“Not going to say a word,” the EMT says. “Me and Stacey already had to sign NDAs to work the premiere tonight. We won’t tell anyone about Brock Rumlow - or about you two.” He waves a hand between Bucky and Clint. “It’s cute.”

“We’re not-” Bucky starts, and the guy grins.

“Hey, I’m bi,” he says. “You have any idea how cool it was when you came out. I mean… it was shitty that someone posted those pictures without your permission, but the fact you just owned it?” Bucky feels uncomfortable at the sheer emotion on the guy’s face. He hadn’t ever meant to be that. Not to anyone. He’s a shitty role model. He does dumb things like sleep with Brock Rumlow, and then get photographed with some guy hired by Brock Rumlow and plastered all over the news. He makes stupid films and never calls his ma and… Now there’s some guy looking at him like he means something and Bucky doesn’t know what to say.

“I’m glad I helped,” he says. It feels insipid.

“You more than helped, and I’m sorry some jackass tried to shoot you and shot your friend instead. Just because you were brave enough to be who you are.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says.

“So I’m not going to say a thing about you or your boyfriend,” the guy says. “You deserve nice things, and he-” the EMT points at Clint, who is still shirtless- “is a nice thing.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, “he is.”

*

By the time the police are done with him, Steve and Becca have converged on the hospital like wolves and they are forced out of Clint’s room by the nurses who don’t care that two of them are movie stars, the patient needs to rest.

Becca’s still in her premiere outfit, and Bucky feels horrible that she got all dressed up just to come to a hospital and sit on the uncomfortable plastic seats and drink terrible hospital coffee. But on the other hand, he’s glad she’s here.

“I can’t believe someone managed to get that close to you with a gun,” Steve’s saying. “There are supposed to be security measures in place to stop that happening.” Bucky pinches at his nose, trying to will away the headache that’s still growing behind his eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that right now. He just wants to sleep, but he can’t sleep while Clint’s in the hospital and-

“How do you sack a guy who saved your life?” he asks.

“What?” Steve says, his footsteps faltering.

“How do you sack a guy who saved your life?” Bucky repeats.

“Why do you want to sack him?” Becca asks. “You should be promoting him.”

“Because he wants to sleep with him,” Steve says. Becca’s eyes go wide.

“You are not allowed to break his heart,” she says, glaring at him. “Don’t you dare, James Barnes. Ma will kill you. If you sack him just so you can sleep with him after he saved your stupid life, I swear James Barnes-”

“I’m not going to-” Bucky draws in a breath. “It’s just… I-”

“Huh,” Steve pulls out his phone.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks.

“Texting Sam, I owe him a hundred bucks. He said you’d figure it out this year.”

“Were you betting on me and Clint?” Bucky asks.

“Technically, I was betting against you,” Steve says, not looking up from his phone. “I didn’t think either of you would make a move.”

“I can’t believe you,” Bucky says, shaking his head. “So how do I do this?”

“Start with the part where you want to bang him like a gong,” Becca says.

“That would be sexual harassment,” Steve interjects and Bucky takes a deep breath. “He can’t say that until after he sacks him.”

“True,” Becca says, tapping one finger against her lips. “You could always try a line from one of your movies.” Bucky and Steve both look at her, incredulous. “Right, too cheesy. You could-”

“You know what?” Bucky says, cutting her off. “I’m going to figure this out on my own.”

*

In the end, it isn’t Bucky who brings it up. He goes to visit Clint the next morning, coffee in hand and is greeted by a tense look and words that make him freeze in place.

“I’m resigning,” Clint says.

“What?” Bucky asks. “Why? You-”

“It has been brought to my attention that my behaviour yesterday was a little…” Clint scratches at his head, avoiding Bucky’s gaze. “Unprofessional.”

“You saved my life, that’s literally what you’re paid to do,” Bucky says. “How is that unprofessional.”

“Not that,” Clint says his face screwing up a little. “What I did to Rumlow. Unprofessional. You’re really not supposed to assault people, even if they are dicks.”

“Did you get in trouble?” Bucky asks. “I can have a word with-”

“It’s not that made him headbutt a wall,” Clint says, sounding tired. “It’s why I made him headbutt a wall. I…” he pauses. “Oh fuck, I’m a bad lifetime movie. Except queer.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I broke Brock Rumlow’s nose because he was mean to you,” Clint says, the words bursting out of him in a sudden unstoppable stream. “I was kind of mad because someone shot at you, and then he comes in and accuses you of being responsible for the whole thing and I just…” He shrugs helplessly. “So I have to resign because I’m supposed to be protecting you from guns, not from getting your feelings hurt, and I thought I was doing pretty good at not being distracted by your ass, but apparently I… uh… get a little carried away.”

“You get distracted by my ass,” Bucky says slowly. Clint’s eyes open wide and there’s red blooming over his cheeks.

“Can you forget I said that? I’m still on the good drugs.”

“They took you off them last night,” Bucky says. “I… You’re resigning because-”

“Because I like you too much to be objective,” Clint says, sagging into the bed. He looks awful, like he’s barely slept and so utterly dejected. Bucky looks at him speculatively.

“I offer a very generous severance package,” Bucky says. Clint stares at him, looking even worse, if anything. “And… now that you’ve resigned.” He swallows and nods to himself. He can do this. “If you wanted to go out sometime, to dinner maybe?” Clint blinks again.

“Like a date?”

“Yeah. If you want,” Bucky says, shrugging.

Clint grabs his hand and pulls, yanking Bucky half off his feet and onto the bed. It’s more of a headbutt than a kiss - at first - but Bucky takes it as a yes. A very enthusiastic yes.

If his publicist has to send out a few more NDAs to the nursing staff, as far as Bucky’s concerned, it’s absolutely worth it.