#the first bisexual brick is laid

[deadlydelicious]

THIS BOY JUST SLAPPED KIRKS ASS?!

[lncarnon]

hello world and all who inhabit it i present spicy

just going through my list of muses;

nadia is very touch adverse and subsequently hasn't been laid in a long time, only interested in men

nekros is exempt from spicy hc's

teshin has a non-existent sex drive

stalker very, very rarely is horny and the moments where he is are typically reserved for his acolytes, so good luck

julie has definitely used her charm and looks to seduce people to their death but the only time she would actually let it get anywhere, is with frank, or frank's permission

joey is definitely still a virgin, not for lack of trying, but he is wholly unsure what to do with himself in that regard

were-elk huntress would be quite a terrifying ordeal and since she has no interest in men, might be seduced by a woman but also.. good luck with that one

krampus trapper fucks, he's a scary demon goat-man, but no one has been brave enough to even try

b-312 has no interest in seeking out sex, though there is a chance someone could try and convince her, good luck. she definitely would not be interested in casual encounters.

the warden is a giant robot, no

the servant of the flame definitely still has a sex drive and they use the same magic that made them, to manifest a dick, but sex is far from the first thing on their mind

mia is open to a very loose lifestyle and flings, but her job keeps a lot from developing

finka has a very specific type of man she is interested in and if you don't fit that category, the answer is likely no, but she will be nice about it

yellowleg also doesn't think about sex, if ever

rosebud is the opposite and likes to use sex as a means to conquer cocky guys, if you get her in bed better prepare for her being on top

thatcher likes a good fuck as much as the next guy, but his age is starting to get to him, and if you asked out of the blue or at a bar he would probably just chuckle and decline

maximilien fucks but he never initiates, though he won't go to bed with strangers

the monitor before becoming the monitor had a normal sex drive, but ever since his training, sees no purpose in it (with one exception and they know who they are)

june likes sex, how it makes her feel, and she engages in it whenever convenient

amon would definitely use sex as a means to control someone, full stop, he isn't interested in attachment

revenant has bodies with modifications both for mouth and other means, he doesn't get horny, but would absolutely capitalize on making someone feel ashamed because they wanted to fuck a murder robot

slade hasn't really thought about sex since everything that happened in star city, it isn't something he goes looking for, and will satiate himself if it comes up

jeri knows what sex is but would be unlikely to do anything with that information, that being said, if you really wanted to go to town with a xenomorph and not be killed go ahead and try i GUESS

for walter there seems to be some suggestion that trolls have private parts but they don't use them to reproduce so i have NO IDEA if they could fuck. walter is far more human adjacent so he might?? try, if someone wanted.

zachariah definitely gets horny, but is fairly picky on whether or not he is going to be asking for help from anyone

aria will frequent a few bars around the local area if she is really feeling like she needs some release, but don't expect her to stick around

theoretically you could have sex with the ahamkara but also why would you want to do that

saint-14 is very much a monogamous man and that's the end of that

rasputin is another one of those 'you could but he wouldn't understand what's going on' characters, so probably don't try, his son might also hunt you down-

araskes is in a state of being that she doesn't have physical needs to any degree, for food, or sex. i guess it would not be impossible to seduce her but you would have better luck seducing a brick wall

delilah is bisexual but lesbian leaning, so women will definitely have better chances at engaging with her

the outsider hasn't been human in centuries, but if you approach him in my au where he was freed from being a god, he would be pretty lost as to what he is feeling and what to do about it haha. oldest virgin.

daud is asexual, he'd let you think you are getting somewhere and then he would probably stab you for being so gullible

caska is a giant cat, she would only be interested in other giant cats and even then she isn't interested in starting a family yet

rindul is a vampire that knows how to have a good time, but most people are scared of him, so he often has quite a bit of alone time

elam, as an assassin, has definitely used sex to get to a target. at least he lets them finish before gutting them. not much interest outside of work

lord warden dusk is a very large, dragon-like demon, who definitely could fuck but doesn't inherently have much of a sex drive if ever and would use it against a mortal readily. but hey, if you are into size difference-

the ascendant lord is just a guy, with a high position in society on both sides of his person. he gets offers all the time so you really would have to make an impression to get that kind of attention from him

maxwell only had eyes for one girl, and she hates him, so don't bother

shay fucks when the need arises, but it's usually limited to someone he already knows

aiden would be a task and a half to seduce, he usually sticks to himself

teylan is exempt from the spicy hc's

[scattered-winter]

For the ask game: owen from 911ls and zuko from atla 👀

owen

sexuality headcanon

bisexual

otp

billy/owen because they fucking hate each other and I think it's hilarious

brotp

poor judd is always dragged into his bullshit 😔

notp

gwyn deserves so much better I'm not sorry

first headcanon that pops into my head

he probably has a tattoo in a very embarrassing place

favorite line from this character

ok I will give him this one win: "126 is a family. These uniforms bind us tighter than blood. Like family, we argue, screw up, let each other down. But as long as we keep fighting for one another there is no challenge cannot rise to, there is no crisis that we cannot overcome. This building stands today not because of its bricks and mortar, but because of the heart and soul of the family inside of it" because fuck yeah, they are a family <33

one way in which I relate to this character

annoying bitch representation ig

thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

literally everything?? but especially how he makes EVERYTHING about him. even things that are completely unrelated. like. does he ever get sick of the world revolving around him??? does he???? and the other thing is how when he had cancer, the biggest thing he was worried about was his hair and his dick. like. maybe I'm just biased because my family is full of people dying--literally dying--of cancer but that shit was like a slap to the face. I'd be so embarrassed if I was him. imagine telling your son to his face that you care more about your hair and your fucking abilities more than you care about the very real, very damaging trauma that comes from watching a parent wither and die right before your eyes. the ls cancer storyline isn't just annoying, it's offensive (to me, at least) and a big part of it is because of owen's attitude

cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

problematic. not my fav. just problematic <3

zuko!!!!!!!! my baby boy!!!!!!!!!!!

sexuality headcanon

he's the gayest little guy I've ever laid eyes on. I've stayed silent on this issue long enough

otp

I'm a zukka truther at heart but I also think jetko has the potential to be funny

brotp

zuko and toph!!! lowkey wish there was an ep before sozin's comet where they hit the town and caused some problems together

notp

zutara. I'm sorry but it's true ,, it's just. a painfully straight ship no matter how you twist it. doesn't pass the vibe check

first headcanon that pops into my head

he's also the most autistic guy to ever exist so jot that down

favorite line from this character

"they don't see our greatness. they hate us, and we deserve it" yesssss boy recognize the wrongdoings of your people and fight for redemption not just for yourself but for your nation yessssssssssss

one way in which I relate to this character

autism <3 also family issues (I haven't been burned in the face tho <333 thank fuck)

thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

ghsldkfjsg every time I watch him re-introduce himself to the gaang in s3,,,great job little buddy that's the worst anyone's ever done it <3

cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

he's both. he's my cinnamon roll and he's also a problematic fave. he contains multitudes <333

character ask game

[ivrykeys]

Despite only being 32 years old, there are folks around Stillwater who swear Nick Park (Charles Melton) has been here since they laid the first brick. By day, he's a bartender at The Mint, sometimes serving up a double feature as their nightly performer. Although he gives new meaning to the phrase "a fixture in town," Nick is happy to be where he is. His hometown is the greatest place on earth, why would he ever want to leave?

ABOUT | SKELETON | WANTED CONNECTIONS

BASIC STATS:

Full Name: Nicholas Jae Park Age: 32 Birthday: May 13, 1941 Gender: Male Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Bisexual Zodiac: Taurus Place of Birth: Stillwater, CA Neighborhood: Willowdale Occupation: Bartender & piano player at The Mint

[captainjimothycarter]

So it's a silly image but I like to imagine Steve realizing that Peggy was responsible for what's now one of New Yorks first gay bars, but back until the 90s it was an underground secret no one knew about. "Everyone needs a place to be themselves."

i don’t think this was silly at all. I love the HC so much and I hope I did it honor. Thank you for sharing it with me.

--

“What’s this?” Steve asked the second Natasha flung an old file down on top of his sketchbook. His nose wrinkled from the dust, fingers brushing over the frayed edges. This thing had to be decades old, but the same could apparently be said for him in this new century.

It was an old, unmarked file with the edges starting to yellow and fray. He was afraid if he picked it up by the edges or flicked it open, the thing would crumble apart in his hands. There wasn’t one single, distinguishing mark on this thing. It was odd, considering most of the files that Natasha had tossed his way recently were marked with some sort of SHIELD symbol or even the SSR. This one was null.

“What do you think it is?” Natasha huffed, sitting herself down across the table from him. She nearly blended into the gray walls with her outfit, the only part of her that stood out, as always was the bright, red hair. Her voice was kept down low, not in a this is a shared secret sort of way, but more of we’re in public and in a library so don’t you dare we loud.

Even if this was SHIELD’S library.

“I don’t know. Looks like a file.” 

Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes, dropping it down so it laid on top of the book he was reading. Natasha complained he spent far too much time in the library but given the circumstances of waking up in some new century where everyone you knew was dead (including the love of your life), then you sort of became a shell of yourself and hid away in Shield’s library. One, to read all you can about missed events, and two, to hide away and distract yourself with the knowledge of the fact that you had to play catch-up of the last 60-something years.

“Just open it, Steve. I think you’ll find the contents interesting.”

His mouth opened but what could he say? Argue? Insist? Nothing. There would be nothing that he could say that would get Natasha to take this file away because she knew she’d won. She had plopped it in front of him, an unmarked file, and sat down and at him expectedly. Curiosity would get the better of him, even if Steve didn’t want to admit it. 

Natasha’s eyebrow rose in a manner that reminded Steve of his mother, that insistingly asked him if he was really done with telling the whole story. Instead, she silently waited, arms crossed over her chest.

Steve reserved his sigh for another day when she might care more about his wants and just did the quickest thing that would get her to leave him alone. He opened the damn file and immediately wished he didn’t.

Front face and center was the love of his life. Or well, there was a photo of her. Actually, there were several photos of her. Photos that he wasn’t even aware that existed. Peggy must’ve been shortly after the war, standing next to who could’ve only been Angie. She was smilingly brightly despite the shiner and he could hear her laughter echoing in his head, see the red lips despite the black and white photo. They stood with a group of people he didn’t recognize either. People that she looked friendly or even close to given how one guy was holding onto her waist. 

Steve wasn’t jealous, not by much. Maybe a small flicker of jealousy flared to life inside of him, but it instantly cooled down when he made the connection. Or, one connection. Just hidden between them, he could see the guy holding her waist was also holding hands with a gentleman that was smiling brightly at the camera. 

Oh. 

It reminded him of the gay clubs he and Bucky would risk visiting when Steve was in the better days of his illnesses when there wasn’t a risk of them being seen and ratted out by neighbors or when he wouldn’t risk coughing up a blood-clotted lung.

Sadly, there was nothing on the other side of the photo. Not that Steve expected much, Peggy had her manner of keeping things organized, and being a spy meant you left little untraced. So why she allowed herself to be photographed was beyond him.

No answer came with the next photo.

Even if in this one, he could make out the bruise under the makeup she tried to hide it with. He could see her eyes crinkling in the corners when she laughed and smiled at the camera. Her red lips instantly claiming his attention. Despite the crowd of men around her, some familiar to the old photo and some new, Steve didn’t look at them. He looked at her eyes, the warm, honey-coated eyes that were a sign to him that screamed welcomed home.

Natasha wouldn’t give these to him to stare at the photos of his beloved, she wanted him to see something, but what?

There were still men and women around her, some dressed in stylish outfits, some with funky-looking ones. Angie was still beside her and despite the closeness of the pair, one man each hung from their shoulders. The same two men who held hands in the photo before. They stood in front of a brick wall, one that looked familiar to him, but why?

It was an itch in the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite scratch.

There were more people in the next photo, more than enough to sit two photos side by side so he could cram them together to see the full photo. Still, nothing. Still, Peggy and Angie and a group of people. Men holding hands, a little braver to be outside the frame of the two women. And still that same brick wall, but why was that brick wall familiar? Why did that little notch right above Angie’s left ear hit him like, well, a stack of bricks?

And why did the next few photos, each following more, and more people, until Peggy stood by herself in front of the building, silver in her hair, a wedding band on her fingers, but pride radiating in those fierce eyes, frustrate him more?

Steve just wanted to slam these photos down and take a walk, take a breather. He doubts Natasha did this to be cruel, to throw his reminder that he had loved and lost into his face. He did that enough to himself.

Sighing, Steve ran a hand over his hair and dropped his hand beside the last photo of Peggy. Older. Shortly before she died of old age. Silver in her hair, wrinkles on her face but a fierce, determined look. 

It hit him then, why those bricks frustrated him so much, why that notch in the brick made his heart drop.

That very notch was made from Bucky using a slingshot to scare off the bees because they terrified his baby sister. 

Those red bricks belonged to the apartments that he and Bucky grew up in.

There was more in the file but Steve didn’t want to look. He wanted to shut the damn thing and turn away. Instead, he swallowed and picked up a newspaper article from the 1990s. Peggy was on the cover, holding onto a cane, looking dead in the cameras as if she was daring a soul to challenge her.

Peggy Carter: Fighting the Unseen Fight is what the title read.

“It was a gay bar,” Natasha murmured, drawing Steve from his thoughts. She must’ve seen how his hand was shaking around the article. “Peggy Carter assisted in running a few underground gay bars in New York, up until the 1990s where...the one she is standing in front of is one of the first public gay bars to open.”

“I…” Steve swallowed, his throat feeling dry. It felt like he took in a mouthful of dust. “I don’t know...why?”

“I think you know why,” she mused, giving him an almost loving look. “Because she wanted to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. I wonder where she got that from?”

“She’s always had that,” Steve snorted, forcing himself to let go of the files. “Always fiercely protective of her loved ones. I had nothing to do with it.”

“Yes, but you stirred the fires inside of her. She might not have done it because of you, but she did it in your name.”

Tapping the newspaper, the woman sat back and Steve sighed as he looked back down at it. He forced himself to read the last few questions and answers.

Why did you do it?

“Everyone needs a place to be themselves. If no one else was to protect the innocent, then I had to step up to the plate to do so. I’m only lucky that some of my connections had agreed to protect us when things got bad. During the movement, we became safe houses and safe havens for those who needed protection. Not once do I regret my actions.”

Why here? Why open the first gay bar here?

“I…could think of no place better. Steven Grant Rogers was an inspiration to me, the driving force as to how I actually met my wife. During the war, we’ve seen men, great men being sent back home for being in love with people of the same sex. I’ve seen Captain Rogers step up to the plate to put a stop to it, to take falls for kissing men and women when all of us knew that he was far from the situation at the time given the nature of the job. I’ve seen him lie straight to people’s faces, no matter their position in the government or war to keep our men’s feet on the ground. I’ve seen him harbor his best friend’s secrets until the day they both died. I protected those men and women before I met Captain Rogers again and even after he died, but Steven...gave me the courage to do more.”

“I…” Steve, this time had to open and close his mouth, to force his brain to think. “I don’t know what to say..”

“Don’t then,” Natasha breathed, reaching over to take Steve’s hand and give a gentle squeeze. “She knew you were bisexual before you even knew.”

“I think that can be said about a lot of things.”

Natasha’s lips twitched into a small smile before it disappeared. “Would you like to see the bar? It’s still functional to this day. I think it’s written into some post SSR, pre-SHIELD clause that it has to be protected and kept open. It’s still in the same spot.”

Sitting back, the blonde let out a long sigh and picked up his jacket. He might as well, he was getting nothing else done today. Not when his mind was on Peggy, on everything she’s done. “Sure. Just...what is it called?”

Natasha paused, leading them out of the empty library. Her head craned over her shoulder to watch Steve carefully tuck the file inside of his coat and follow after her. “Captain’s Commandos.” 

[freshdelusionface]

EQUITY, DIVERSITY AND INCLUSION OF WOMEN AND LGBTQI+ COMMUNITY

 “Diversity is having a seat at the table, Inclusion is having a voice and Belonging is having that voice be heard.”- Liz Fossilea.

 Year 2020 had made the world relinquish all hope respecting people- women in general being treated equally, diversely and mostly being included in any considerable position in the world- 2020 saw what may be the largest movement in the U.S. history –‘Black Lives Matter.’ But this outcry was the counter-claim to multiple bloodsheds, public aggravations, and racism. What the world needs is a mass-movement to support women, help them be at-par with the men in the civilization. Women very well recognize that in feats of strength, they are quite laid-back than the men, but the least they call for is what Kamala Harris now has- the seat, the acknowledgement. The world now needs to simulate them as ‘the interior decorator’, ’the CEO’, ’the world leader’ ,’the influencer’ other than just scorning, for them being frail. In the International MUN I participated, in Canada, I saw African-Americans, Asians, Caucasians, seated country-wise, but not once did the competence of representation, wit and speech fail to beguile me. For centuries, women have been fighting for more inclusion, representation and equality in community. The struggle hasn’t been easy and justice hasn't yet been furnished to women globally. Citing some of the ground-breaking achievement by women in all fields, we see that on August 18, 1920, The US Constitution provided women the right to vote. Valentina Tereshkova after a long battle with STEM, finally conquered space in 1963.Nancy Pelosi marked the history of politics in 2007 to be represented as Speaker in the Parliament. From Sojourner Truth, who being an African-American freed her son from subjugation- to the NAACP founded by Susan B. Wells, the nation felt major advancements. Frida, from 1907, started portraying taboo topics like abortion, breastfeeding, sexual attractions, through her art. Modern feminism carved itself by Simone De Bevoir in 1960s. After Pearl Harbour, the world came to know of Yuri Kochiyama, eminent for jousting against racism and the very recent controversy like equality for farmers have been supported by Dolores Herta, against major consequences in 2012. Sitting in the Supreme Court seat in 1993, Ruth Bader Ginsburg made the women fantasize for power and her immense support in the #metoo movement still enthralls all. Gloria Steinems launched the first feminism fixated magazine. The poems of Andre Lord makes us want to go on the streets and protest for our places. She was a huge memorial in the progress of the LGBTQ community. Examine the famous transgender activist Marsha P Johnson who ‘threw the first brick’ and became an inspiration to all against ‘sexual deviancy’. STAR which advocates for young transgender people witnessed Johnson working for them and actively participating in Pride walks in support of the LGBTQI+ community and as the gay rights gained momentum, Sylvia identified the still- marginalized women and became an advocate for people of colour and low-income queers and transgender people. Roxanne Gay wrote multiple books on sexuality, race, gender and politics and her work- “World of Wakanda” which is a gender diversity spin-off of Black Panther has stirred acceptance for sexually exclusive people in the nation. The closest connection is felt with Malala Yousafzai whose personal life, fights and sacrifices to uplift the women of the society is an open book. Living under the Taliban occupation since she was 11, and surviving being targeted at an assassination, her life story was met with Global support and acclaim. She was also the youngest person to become a Nobel Prize Laureate in history at the age of just, 17. The Lesbian Gay Bisexual and Transgender (LGBT) community has made notable progress nationally, in over the recent years. But we have to dig deeper and get influenced from the researches, battles and findings presented at the core of LGBTQ issues and disparities in funding and policy progress to create a more inclusive and equitable future tomorrow.

[leorossi]

❝ If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough. ❞

⋆ ° ♔ — (Finn Jones, bisexual, male) look who’s been captured and brought to Tulach Island; it’s Leo Rossi, a 29 year old spare prince of Italy. He has been described as ambitious & compassionate, but also possessive & cynical. While on the island, he works as a Custodian at the Canteen.

                                                                               ■ HISTORY. ■

  A lot can be said about the Rossi family, but overall they are most loved and respected by their people. To say that the second son of Domenico and Roselle Rossi was proud to be a Rossi is a massive understatement. Leo was only a year younger than his older brother, Luka, and a year older than his sister, Laela. Though the siblings were close in more than just because they were close in age, but because they were raised in one of the most loving families. While Leo would do absolutely anything for his sisters, Luka was the sibling that the spare prince was closer to. The boys acted more like best friends than siblings. There wasn’t anything they kept from one another. Sure, they might have kept a few things from the world but to each other, they are more of an open book to one another. He’s learned a lot from his parents but most of what he knows comes from his older brother, by him teaching him or just Leo simply watching him. Having a silver tongue being one of them, no, he doesn’t necessarily have the silver tongue as Luka but he does have his way with words, his flattering charm. After all, you couldn’t be a Rossi without that certain charm.

  As a spare royal, you were still expected to know and do things as the crowned royals just in case. However, Leo never worried that Luka would ever one, give up his title or two, fail at his duties as the future king of Italy. So, while he still paid attention to the duties and responsibilities he didn’t fail in picking up his hobbies and path. Martial arts being one of them, it didn’t take too much or long for him to realize the passion he has to use his own hands and head. Plus he was good at it. Becoming amazing and deadly with his hands as he is with any weapon in them. Oftentimes he and Luka would have battles, friendly fights to not only better their abilities but also friendly competitions to see who was better. Normally Luka would always win, but Leo has sworn that one day he will beat his perfect older brother.   The day of Luka’s kidnap was the day that a piece of him went missing as well. The two were, again, close and even though his parents and sisters took it just as hard - Leo took it a little harder. Now the country looked to him to lead Italy one day. It was a pressure he didn’t realize could make or break him. How the hell did Luka do it all so perfectly?   Though the Rossis’ perfect life was soon about to end. When they were all sound asleep in their beds, the Japanese prince snuck into the royal house and into the king and queen’s chambers. Shooting both Domenico and Roselle in the head. The prince was captured by the Italian guards but before Leo could announce judgment on the prince, he had already committed suicide. However, the misfortunes didn’t end just there - as he laid his parents to rest, news of Laela getting captured soon fell into his ears. Concentrated on trying to see if there was a fresh trail to pick up to find his dear sister, Leo’s uncle soon stole the throne from him - overthrowing him. Bad news…bad luck was hitting the prince from every direction. Still, right now his main concern was ensuring Maddalena and her safety. All royals were under attack with the multiple kidnappings but it seemed as if the Rossis were more under the spotlight then the other royal families.   Months…maybe a year later, Leo never gave up his search to find his siblings, to find the man responsible for his parents’ death…and his siblings’ capture. Most importantly never stopped plotting that perfect plan to overthrow his uncle. To imprison him until his brother came home and do what he willed for the betrayal - but fate had a completely different plan for him. Still making his appearances, Leo was making his way towards a fundraiser event when a horrific car accident happened. He was in the backseat of a 2020 Lexus RX when a semi ran a red light, hitting the opposite side of the car Leo was in at the right time to flip them and pin them into a brick wall. The accident was staged, and even though there were guards with him, they were shot in the head. Something the prince had witnessed when he eventually came to, his vision was blurry and there was an irritating buzz in his ear but he also couldn’t mistake someone getting shot in the head. Realizing he was under attack, he quickly unbuckled his belt or tried to until he ripped it from its hinges and crawled out of the smashed in the car. Scrambling to his feet, he was trying to run away but someone had a hold of his shirt and yanked him back. Instinct kicked in and he fought off as many as he could but the last thing he remembered was a wet cloth being pressed against his nose and everything went black. Eventually coming to, the realization of who was behind the attack was never so clear. Pirates, filthy fucking pirates. Leo didn’t know where the ship was taking him but he was hoping it was taking him to his siblings, damn it’s been too long since he’s seen them.

                                                                       ■ RELATIONSHIPS ■

✧ Luka Rossi: The boys grew up as brothers but their bond connected them like best friends. They tell each other everything and there is no secrets kept between the two older Rossis.  ✧ Laela Rossi: Leo’s first younger sister, even though he and Luka are closer - there is still nothing he wouldn’t do for either of his sisters. He loves them both dearly and will protect them with everything in him.  ✧ Maddalena Rossi: The youngest in the family and Leo’s second sister. Even though he and Luka are closer - there is still nothing he wouldn’t do for either of his sisters. He loves them both dearly and will protect them with everything in him. 

✧ Raiden Sherwood: When Leo was 19-years-old, he attended  Oxford in England - majoring in psychology.  Despite what most would believe about Leo, he was still a virgin when he attended college. Least till he met a bright blue-eyed blonde English man by the name of Raiden Sherwood. The prince’s attraction in men was always apparent but he never really acted on it till the night he met him. The night he slept with him, the first person he’s ever slept with...the first man he’s ever kissed and been intimate with eventually became his first real relationship. Falling fast in love that all changed when Leo graduated from college and had to report back to Italy. They tried to keep in touch but it was never good enough. The pair split and he’s never heard from his English lover again after that and he couldn’t help to this day to wonder how Raiden is and if he has someone new in his life.  ✧ Nikita Orlov: The crowned Russian Princess was Leo’s close friend and second love. However all good things must come to an end. The pair broke up and grew apart as their duties got more heavier, and Nikita’s true betrothal was announced. Even though he will always love her. He can only see them now as just close friends, someone he will do absolutely anything for.   ✧ Teddy Cellario: Grace was Luka’s betrothal, however, as Leo and his older brother is close, he got to spend time with both Grace and Teddy and even though they weren’t married, Leo saw them as part of his family already. Thus, when Luka was kidnapped and the contract between the Rossi’s and the Cellario’s he was saddened. Still it never stopped the second son of Domenico Rossi from seeing both Grace and Teddy as part of his family. 

                                    ■ CONNECTIONS & WANTED CONNECTIONS ■

✧ Siblings >> Luka & Laela Rossi   ✧ First Love >> Raiden Sherwood ✧ Best/Close Friend [Ride & Die] >>  O P E N    ✧  Friend(s) >> Lili Orlov, Fiona Dughlas, Arielle Aremberg, Teddy                                                     Cellario & More  ✧  Frenemy >>  O P E N ✧  Fling >>  O P E N  ✧  True Enemy >>  O P E N  ✧  Claimer/Watcher >>  O P E N (pirates only) ✧  Ex(s) >> Raiden Sherwood & Nikita Orlov  ✧  First Kiss + Intimate partner >>  Raiden Sherwood ✧  Betrothal >> Temporarily Closed -- NPC                                               & More to Come.

[charmingcentry]

Walls - Bechloe

Summary: Three times Chloe caught Beca from falling and one time where the brunette got up herself.

Word Count: 3.1k

And dw, I’m getting to those prompt suggestions in my inbox:)

-

Beca wasn’t one for crying.

Or showing sentimental feelings in general.

She built walls around her heart, the foundation composed of the countless years of being made fun of because she didn’t have two parents like the other kids. There’s also the lack of trust within her relationship with her parents and the dozens of arguments she’s been through. The walls would continue to rise with every harmful incident - when her female friends left when the brunette came out as bisexual, how her mother and father always argued when they spoke, or when Beca realized that the people you love leave you.

All the walls built around her heart would cause the brunette to fall at times.

And every time she would stumble and fall, a kind-hearted redhead would be there to catch her.

-

2013

The sky turned dark when Chloe noticed the reverberating noise of sobs when she walked upstairs - she had just completed hanging their ICCA Championship Banners. Like a bloodhound, the redhead poked her head around the seemingly empty house - most of the Bellas were in their college lectures - and attempted to locate the noise. She passed by all the bedroom doors and came to a stop in front of a room she became familiar with, Fat Amy and Beca’s room.

She pressed her ear against the white wooden door and heard faint sniffling and crying, it seemed to have died down. Chloe froze when she heard what sounded like “She doesn’t feel the same.” The redhead stood in front of the room, hesitant to walk in, not wanting to disturb the sophomore. Chloe knew well that Beca was sobbing, Fat Amy was currently out with Bumper. The redhead took a deep breath, turned the doorknob and peeked in.

Chloe’s eyebrows furrowed, seeing an empty cluttered bed where she assumed Beca would be. The redhead took one step further and found her friend, on the floor, hugging her knees. The redhead’s heart ached when she saw the state Beca was in, the brunette didn’t seem to be the one to cry. Chloe approached the crying brunette and kneeled down.

“Becs? You okay?” The brunette seemed to tense up, her once shaking body movement frozen by the sound of Chloe’s soothing voice. With her body still tense, Beca only nodded. “You don’t seem okay… do you wanna talk about it?”

The shaking body movement returned as Beca lifted her head, staring at Chloe with strained eyes and a somber expression. Her mouth was wavering as she tried to speak. “I- was I being loud?”

Chloe’s heart pounded when she heard the sad-sounding voice, Beca’s tone lacking her wittiness. “Kind of, I heard you crying from down the hall.” The brunette mouthed “sorry.” “Don’t apologize for being upset, you’re okay really. Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?” Chloe wondered what she was crying about, especially after hearing what she heard through the door.

The brunette only averted her eyes away and slowly let go of her knees, straightening out her legs and resting her hands on her lap. “Not really…”

“Okay. Do you need anything?”

Beca tugged at her bottom lip, shooting an inconsistent glance at Chloe. “Can you just… stay with me please?”

The redhead nodded as she slowly stood up. “Of course… do you wanna move to your bed maybe? It’s much comfier than the floor y'know.” Beca sniffled once more before slowly rising to her feet. She shuffled to her bed and took a seat, pressing her back against the wall. Chloe sat next to her, ignoring the temptation to hold Beca’s hand or to kiss her, she hated seeing her best friend in this solemn state.

To her surprise, Beca lowered her head onto Chloe’s shoulder and curled her body against the redhead’s side. She took that as an invitation to wrap her arms around the upset brunette and Beca eventually was cuddling with Chloe. The redhead remained quiet as Beca slowly fluttered her eyelids closed and took on a steady breathing pattern. She glanced down to examine Beca’s face, noticing how puffy her cheeks are and the multiple tear tracks that ran down her face. Whatever it made Beca upset must’ve been really hurtful.

Especially when the person you love, probably will never love you back.

-

2014

The brunette ignored the feeling of throwing up and the stream of tears wanting to escape. She disregarded how heavy her head became and the feeling of her skull being pressed against from all angles, like the stop in tear flow flooded Beca’s head. She didn’t want to break down in front of the girls, especially in public.

Earlier that day, Beca received a message from her father that the brunette’s grandfather passed away. The two were close, Beca spending the majority of her childhood with her grandpa. He would take the young brunette out for ice cream, he would aid Beca with her science homework, and most importantly, heavily influenced her passion for music. The brunette’s grandfather played a tremendous role in Beca’s and life and now he was gone. It took every fiber in her body to not break out into a sob, not wanting to awaken Chloe, her roommate while they were in the hotel.

They were out of town, the Bellas were competing in the ICCA’s once again and the venue was located in Tampa, Florida. Tampa is the city where Chloe grew up in, the redhead wanted to bring the Bellas to a mall she would often frequent during her high school years. Beca didn’t want to ruin the happy enjoyable moment with the news of her grandfather’s passing. So, she sucked it up and continued on with the shopping trip.

She was staring blankly at a clothing rack when she heard someone call her name. Beca slowly looks up and finds her friend, Stacie.

“You good there Beca? You’ve been staring at that ugly polka-dotted romper for the past few minutes. I mean, Chloe would probably think it’ll look good on you.” The brunette blinked, trying to process Stacie’s sentences amongst the thoughts of her grandpa. Her brain couldn’t even take in the Chloe remark. “Earth to Beca~”

The brunette shook her head. “Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Just wondering if I should buy anything…” Stacie narrowed her eyes before she shrugged her shoulders. “Alright, come on let’s go, we’ve been waitin’ for you by the entrance.”

Stacie grips Beca’s wrist, leading her to the entrance of the clothing store. Once she’s settled with the group, Chloe leads them to the next store, Beca trailing far behind. The brunette’s arms were crossed against her chest as she kept her gaze on the brick floor, distracting herself by examining the pattern. A sudden change from the bright sunlight to the dark and loud environment became enough for Beca to pay attention to where she was again. She perks her head up and laid her eyes on bright blue ones.

“Come on! Let’s find like a matching jacket or something.” Chloe grabbed Beca’s wrist and pulled her farther into the store as the other Bellas waggled their eyebrows at one another. Before the brunette knew what was happening, she found herself holding a denim jacket. “What’d you think about that?”

Beca’s hands began to tremble as she looked at the jacket, remembering how her grandpa would always wear one. She recalled the rough feeling of denim whenever he would hug the young brunette and the way it sounded. The brunette’s pounding headache came back.

“Hey, you okay?” Chloe asked. When Beca gave no response except for the trembling body movement, similar to the one from sophomore year, she dragged her into a secluded corner of the store. “Stacie told me there’s something up with you. What is it Becs?” Beca only pressed her lips together. “Come on… you’ve been a little checked out lately what’s wrong?”

Chloe took the denim jacket out of Beca’s hands and placed it on a nearby rack. “My, grandpa he… he passed away this morning.” The redhead’s mouth gaped open, immediately taking Beca in for a hug. For the first time, Beca relaxed into her arms and started sobbing lightly.

“I’m so sorry Beca. But don’t worry, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’ll be fine.” Chloe was reminded of where they were when an employee passed by the two. The redhead didn’t let go. “We’ll talk about this in the hotel okay? I know how you like your privacy.”

Beca nodded as she pulled away, wiping her face with the neckline of her shirt. For the rest of the shopping trip, Chloe held her hand.

Later that night, Chloe settled into her side of the bed, unsurprised to see Beca already curled up in a ball. The redhead inched closer to the brunette as rested a hand on her side, Beca at first tensed up from Chloe’s gentle touch but eventually relaxed. After a couple moments of silence, Beca spoke.

“I didn’t wanna tell you guys because I didn’t wanna ruin the shopping trip… you seemed so excited. I didn’t wanna rain on your parade.” Chloe tugged at her bottom lip, running her hand up and down Beca’s side.

“Don’t hesitate to tell me things like this Becs, I’ll always be there for you. Don’t feel like you’re being a burden, because you’re not. Okay?” Beca nodded. “I know you like keeping things pent up but I’m here for you whenever okay?” Beca nodded once more as she turned over to face Chloe. The brunette slowly scooted closer to the redhead and Chloe smiled at Beca’s movements.

The redhead lowered herself onto the mattress and wrapped her arms around Beca, the brunette resting her head underneath Chloe’s. The redhead pressed a kiss on Beca’s forehead and held the brunette protectively. When she knew that Beca was asleep - the brunette is famous for being the heaviest sleeper, the runner-up being Fat Amy - she whispered softly:

“I love you so much Beca…”

The redhead drifted to sleep, unbeknownst that Fat Amy and Flo had their ears pressed against the wall, and listened to the exchange between the two - other than the I love you.

Beca woke up that day to the Bellas in their hotel room, with flowers and food.

-

2016

The words exchanged with Jesse were laced with venom, the two spewing aggressive words until their voices were hoarse.

It was supposed to be a movie night, Beca found herself in Jesse’s bedroom in the Treblemakers house and the Treblemaker wouldn’t quit the incessant questions about Chloe.

Sure, Beca did feel something for Chloe during her relationship with Jesse, but she stopped trying.

Jesse didn’t seem to believe her.

He accused Beca of cheating, claiming that Chloe was the only one that the brunette would allow to touch her. Jesse brought up how Beca and her behaved more like a couple than they ever did, stomping his foot on the ground heavily that Beca was scared of the floor breaking underneath them.

The brunette eventually had enough, gathering her belongings and storming back to the Bellas house. She could feel the other Treblemaker’s eyes create dozens of holes on her body as she slammed their door shut.

Her walls grew stronger as she felt the tears emerge from her eyes and the intense pounding that came from her head.

Even with her walls becoming firmer and indestructible, there’s always someone she could turn to.

Even if the situation may involve them.

Beca rushed into the Bellas house, immediately directing herself towards Chloe’s room as if she were on auto-pilot. Her thoughts rushed through her head, specifying on her feelings for Chloe; those words drowned out the Bellas calling after her in the living room. The brunette reached her hand out even before she was at Chloe’s door and once she was, she grasped the metal knob and twisted.

“Becs what-

"Jesse and I broke up.”

Chloe’s mouth didn’t form a frown or a surprised expression like Beca would assume it did. Instead, the redhead smiled sweetly and stood from her mattress, walking over to Beca and wrapping her in a hug. The brunette didn’t tense up for once… she clenched onto Chloe and sobbed, her eyes tightly closed as she gripped the back of Chloe’s shirt. The redhead rubbed circles on Beca’s back, kicking the door closed behind them. Chloe led the brunette to her bed where Beca still didn’t let go.

“Wanna say why you guys broke up?”

Without thinking, her mouth formed words before her brain could process them. “T-thought I was cheating on him with you because I still have feelings for you.”

When Beca realized what she said, she immediately tore herself from Chloe’s comforting grip, both letting out a slight whimper. “Shit I- Chlo…”

Chloe could feel her own tears forming, but kept strong for the upset brunette. Instead of questioning Beca, the redhead simply reached back out for her. “We don’t have to talk about it… for now we can just sit here in silence if that’s what you want?”

Beca could feel her flight or fight response pulsing throughout her petite body. She could feel her feet wanting to run and her body wanting to be away from Chloe’s.

She didn’t.

Instead, Beca curled back up into Chloe’s body and closed her eyes, still sniffling as she drifted to sleep. The redhead held Beca firmly and securely and couldn’t help but feel so selfish.

The girl she failed her Russian Lit exam for liked her as well.

And that’s what managed to fill her entire brain.

-

2017

“Lemme get this straight… you basically told Chloe that you like her and you two haven’t talked about it since then.” Aubrey smacks Beca lightly on the forehead with her straw - the two agreed to meet each other in a small cafe located a few blocks away from their hotel after the whole hostage situation. It’s early morning, still many hours away from Beca’s performance tonight.

“Look, we just never really… talked about it.” Aubrey begins to open her mouth but Beca stops her. “Yes we live together but it just never came up.”

Aubrey only rolls her eyes. “I’ve watched this sexual tension go on for so long Beca, when will you give in?”

The brunette picks apart her croissant, the flakey crumbs scattering across her lap. Her feelings for Chloe have been picking apart at Beca for so long and she could never manage to turn her thoughts into words and her words into actions.

“What if she doesn’t like me anymore? I mean, it’s been a year.”

Aubrey smiles a bit. “It’s been 7 years and she still hasn’t given up. I think you’re fine.”

Beca gapes her mouth open. “Holy shit 7 years?” Aubrey nods as the brunette shoves her head into her hands, ignoring how the silverware clattered against the table. “I’m so dumb.”

“Yes, that’s very clear.” The brunette shoots her head back up, glaring at Aubrey. “I’m kidding but yeah you were oblivious.” The blonde bites her bottom lip for a bit. “If it means anything… Chloe was kind of oblivious too at first… she kept obsessing over you when she saw you at the activities fair. It was really clear she had a toner for you but never admitted until Hood Night.”

Beca’s head remains in her hands. “How should I tell her?”

Aubrey waves their waiter over for the check, pulling out her cash. “That’s for you to decide Beca.”

The brunette releases her head, finishing off her croissant before they leave.

She has an idea.

-

The brunette’s been silent ever since she returned from her little morning conversation with Aubrey, not wanting to speak in fear she would confess at the wrong time. Her being silent wasn’t much before, but now, it has everyone concerned.

Other than Aubrey of course.

her walls have been beginning to lower and ease down all because of the sweetest and sincerest redhead on planet Earth.

Her performance is inching closer and closer along with her confession. Beca is scheduled to arrive two hours earlier for a microphone check, costume, hair, and makeup. The brunette proceeds to store all of her items into her suitcase, the Bellas will be leaving Europe in two days. As Beca stores her shower supplies away, she feels a tap on her shoulder. She turns and finds Chloe standing there, smiling as great as ever.

“Hey what’s up?”

“Just wanted to wish you luck since you’re leaving in like… 30 minutes. And also, are you okay? You’ve been kind of quiet.”

It pains Beca to not tell Chloe, especially since they are currently alone at the moment. But Beca wanted to save it for later…

“I’m fine, just kind of nervous.”

Chloe nods accordingly and pecks a kiss on Beca’s cheek - something that the brunette has become accustomed to. “Well, you got nothing to worry about.”

The redhead helps Beca with the packing process and the brunette had to bite her tongue down with every thought she had of wanting to tell Chloe.

-

Her eyes remain on Chloe’s icy blue eyes for the majority of her performance, seeing as they were the most visible amongst the crowd. Beca slowly approaching the Bellas was all apart of her plan: wanting to sing as a group one last time and to confess to Chloe.

She wasn’t one for big gestures but this sure would be the biggest step that Beca has ever taken outside her comfort zone.

The brunette makes sure to surround the Bellas in the most loving hug she could muster without letting the tear flow break.

As she slowly backs up into the line with everyone’s hand holding one another’s, Beca couldn’t help but smile.

The crowd erupts into a gigantic cheer and Beca turns immediately on her heel, with her eyes set on Chloe.

The brunette taps Chloe on the shoulder once and she turns around right away. Before the redhead could hug Beca, the brunette cradles Chloe’s face and presses her lips onto hers. Beca takes into account how satisfying it feels to kiss the girl she’s been chasing for so many years. The redhead kisses back with as much passion, her arms settling on Beca’s waist.

The Bellas cheer as the two kiss on stage, the crowd erupting in bursts of cheers as they continuing kissing.

Her walls have been taken down and Beca couldn’t have asked for a better person to take those sturdy barriers down.

Chloe Beale never left Beca.

And that’s what made her walls fall.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Park Your Car in My Gay-rage

Castiel moved out West so he could live freely and with pride. However an anonymous act of bigotry chips away at his faith that he can live life without facing prejudice. And with each repair shop that turns him down the cracks keep growing. Why would Singer's Auto be any different?

Will his car ever be fixed? And could a certain mechanic restore more than just his car?

(Link to ao3)

           Castiel slumps against his car, snapping his cell phone shut in frustration. Banging his hand against the hood he grumbles out a string of expletives as he gives up hope. Meg, leaning against the hood, drums her fingers on the closed Yellow Pages while watching him.

           “So,” Meg says, “it a bust, too?”

           He sighs, tapping his phone on his forehead. “More than that. The mechanic laughed me off after I told him what I needed and had a few choice opinions to tell me.”

           Meg’s lips purse, and she steps back onto the sidewalk to stare at the rough scratches across her friend’s beige paint. The word was interrupted by the open driver seat’s door, but when closed all together the crude artist spelled out ‘FAGGOT’. “Maybe he knew the jackass who did this…”

           Castiel ignores her, chewing on his lip. “How am I going to get this fixed…? I can’t drive around town like this.”

           “And I’m sick and tired of looking through that thing,” she jerks her thumb at the offensive phone book, “Do you ever think searching for stuff will be easier? Like, I don’t know… all these names and numbers stored somewhere and it’d only take a few seconds to find exactly what you’re looking for?”

           Frown slashed heavily across his face, Castiel turns to glare at her. “What the hell are you talking about?”

           She shrugs, “I don’t know… digging through that reminded me of this girl I went out with a couple’a times. Total geek, spent at least two dates going on and on about those huge, clunky computer things. Think she lived in an Internet Café… wait a minute!” She digs into her leather jacket pocket and pulls out her phone, flicking it open and clicking away.

           He hops off his car, stepping closer out of curiosity. “What are you doing?”

           “I just remembered,” she starts, not even looking at him, “she mentioned how she works at this garage –“

           “Meg, we’ve tried all the garages in the area –“

           “C’mon, trust me,” Meg continues, “place has to be good if they hired a lesbian.”

           Castiel rolls his eyes. “Forgive me if I don’t trust straight men’s views on lesbianism.” At that Meg stops staring at her phone to shoot Castiel a flat look. He hisses out a breath and runs tired fingers through his hair. “Sorry, I’m just tired and frustrated about all this… why is it so hard to find somebody for a body job?”

           “Because unfortunately most people today are ignorant, Clarence,” Meg tells him, holding her phone against her ear, “And we’re not going to see any real change for years… maybe not until we’re all old and shriveled and grey.”

           Huffing, Castiel crosses his arms against his chest and spins on his heel. He lets Meg talk to his back, done with their bleak conversation. Still, a part of him agrees with her opinion of the future for those like them. It wasn’t too long ago Castiel was trapped in his old hometown in Illinois, looking over his shoulder every weeknight to make sure no one followed him home. Fearful that one day his face would be a blip in the newsreel, another name to add to the wall like Matthew Shepard.

           “I moved here to escape all that,” he mumbles to himself, “but apparently hatred can grow anywhere… even in California.”

           Meg hops onto his back, interrupting his musings. She chokes him, forcing him to twirl her around until Castiel can pry her arms off of him. After wheezing in a good-sized breath, he asks what that was about.

           “They’d be happy to take a look,” Meg says, “Free of charge!”

           Castiel blinks at her. “What?”

           “I told you this was a good place, Clarence. Hurry up though, they’re not gonna keep the shop open for you.” She rattles off the directions, having to repeat herself once Castiel shakes away the dazed look in his eye. “…And when you get there you’re supposed to ask for Dean,” she finishes, “Dean Winchester.”

           “Why?”

           “Guy overheard us talking and said he’d take care of it personally.”

           “But… why?”

           She shrugs, “Who knows, but he’s waving his fees. Don’t look a gift mechanic in the mouth, my gorgeous unicorn.�� Meg pockets her phone and skips backwards, waving goodbye.

           “Wait,” Castiel follows her, “you’re not coming with?”

           “Band practice,” she says, “I’ve gotta swing over to my place and pick up my bass. You’ll do fine!” With a loud smack of her lips she disappears behind a corner, off on her own way.

           Castiel waits a beat before he actually leaves. He starts the engine, idling some more to switch out the CD in the drive, so instead of blasting Indigo Girls he could drive to the music of the Cranberries. Skipping until he reached ‘Zombie’, Castiel nods his head along as he begins his journey over to Singer’s Auto Repair.

           It wasn’t too confusing following Meg’s directions. Halfway through her second explanation Castiel realized he was familiar with the route. He’s driven that way countless time to visit a small bookstore he loves. The only one he’d been able to find that stocks trashy romance novels of more diverse backgrounds. Perks of living near West Hollywood, Castiel always knows where to go to find shops catered to others like him.

           But he would have remembered seeing a car garage there.

           Rounding the final corner, Castiel slows down and crawls along the street, head swerving left and right while ‘Yeat’s Grave’ plays on. After passing his bookstore, he spots a faded sign a few storefronts down.

           “How have I never seen this before?”

           Unassuming from the front, with faded brick and rusted steel, Bobby’s Auto Shop sits next to a leather shop and spans all the way to the corner. A single rainbow flag hangs from a pole jutting off the side of the building. Castiel pulls into an open garage, parking near the front and cutting the music off before the next song could begin. He steps out of the car and looks around.

           There are at least five vehicles stationed inside the building at the moment. He sees one hefted up on a lift, a burly man inspecting it from below. Across from him two other mechanics argue over the exposed engine of a truck, long hair pulled back into tight ponytails. At a lounge area a black couple share a bag of chips.

           Looking to the other side at what Castiel expects to be only a blank wall he spies a cluttered corkboard.

           Castiel walks away from his car and over to it, scanning the different fliers tacked on. Notices for events like poetry readings and charity brunches to raise funds for AIDs research. A picture of a drag queen hangs next to an ad selling a lounger with a few of the tabs ripped off. There’s even a poster for Meg’s band, ‘The Demon Queens’ that he recognizes, having done the design for them.

           “You find something you like?” a rough drawl from behind startles him. Castiel spins, coming face to face with a man who shouldn’t look so handsome streaked with oil. He stares into sparkling green eyes, the color only highlighted by the dark marks on his cheeks. The mechanic smirks, cocking one brow higher than the other. “You all right there?”

           “Yeah-yeah-yes,” Castiel clears his throat, “Yes I am, sorry I… what did you ask?”

           He chuckles, running dirty fingers through his light brown hair, coloring it darker. “You here for some work?”

           Castiel nods. “I’m supposed to ask for a Dean… Winchester?”

           Mechanic’s gaze widens, glancing back at Castiel’s car before returning to him. “You’re Meg’s friend?” he asks, grinning.

           “Yes…?”

           “Hmm… not what I was expecting,” he says, holding a hand out, “I’m Dean.”

           Castiel flushes, cursing his luck. Of course the only mechanic who would work on his car would be the man who stepped off the set of a calendar shoot.

           Pretty boys have always been Castiel’s weakness. From high school when he first understood where his attractions laid to now, something about them makes his brain shuts down. His tongue works against him and sweat pours out from everywhere; thoughts bottleneck behind the embarrassing urge to blurt out ‘you’re pretty’. Castiel ceases to function normally when presented with a pretty boy.

           It’s been an uncomfortable amount of time where Dean’s hand hangs in the air. Castiel realizes it when the smile on his face slowly starts to fall.

           He jerks his hand out in a panic, latching onto Dean’s with as relaxed a face he can force. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dean.” His handshake is tight and fast, quickly pulling away as if burned.

           Feeling something wet coating his palm Castiel prays Dean didn’t notice his sweat. However looking at it he belatedly remembers Dean’s hands were covered in oil.

           “Shit,” Dean says, “Totally forgot to clean up… that’s my bad.”

           “It’s fine,” Castiel tell him, “I’ve had worse… my hands are usually messy and covered in whatever.”

           “Really? Like what?”

           “Paints, clay… those types of things.”

           “You an artist?”

           “On my days off.”

           Dean motions for Castiel to follow. He does. “You do any galleries?” he asks.

           Castiel frowns, “I’ve been in one or two, but never on my own. Don’t have the money to afford a space.”

           “If you ever do, feel free to advertise here,” Dean says, stopping by a large sink, “As you already know we have a place for a poster or two.”

           “Duly noted.” He waits for Dean to turn on the faucet, letting him run his hands under the stream first. Once he finishes Castiel half-heartedly scrubs at the oil. There wasn’t much on his hand, and making any effort to wash it away wouldn’t fit with the cool façade Castiel tried to keep.

           “Y’know,” Dean starts, hands hidden in a fluffy towel, “when Charlie told me about you, I thought you’d look a hell of a lot different.”

           Castiel skews his head to the side. “How so?”

           “Well I figured you’d be a girl,” he shrugs, “friend of an ex from Charlie, nine out of ten it’d be another lesbian or at least bisexual…“ Dean tosses the towel to Castiel, “egg on my face, right?”

           He catches it haphazardly. “More like oil.” When Dean’s brows pinch together, Castiel mock wipes at his face with the towel.

           “Really?” Dean whines, “You probably think I’m a slob.” He hurriedly splashes some more water on his face and snatches the towel back.

           “Honestly?” Castiel says, “I don’t know enough about you to form an opinion.”

           Dean looks up from the towel and smiles, dimples clear on his freckled cheeks. “We’ll have to fix that, then.” Before Castiel can overthink what that means Dean walks away and over to his car, Castiel racing to keep up. “So someone marked up your car?”

           He sighs, “Yeah… I woke up the other day to find that – that word scratched on the side along with some… other things.” Castiel doesn’t dive in to the details of the torn up rainbow flag outside his apartment and the already painted over slurs carved onto his door. “That’s what I get for celebrating the first day of Pride, I guess.”

           Dean frowns, running a hand across his car’s ugly scar. “You know the person who did this?”

           Castiel shrugs. “Suspicions… but nothing concrete enough to make a claim or file a report.”

           “If it were me I’d do more than that. Bastard would be walking with a limp – if at all – if they messed up my Baby.”

           The threat brings a smile to Castiel’s face. He straightens out of the curled up posture he fell into. “Your ‘Baby’?”

           “My car,” Dean explains, turning to him, “older model in black. A ‘67 Chevy Impala.”

           “I must confess… I don’t know that much about cars.”

           “Really?”

           “I don’t quite know the model of my own car let alone what an Impala looks like.”

           “That’s a damn shame,” Dean tells him, “Going your whole life without knowing what true beauty is? I’d take you out to see her now if I didn’t have to park so far away today.”

           “You don’t have your own parking?”

           He shakes his head. “Usually I snag a spot on the block but by the time I made it out of bed they were all taken. So I’m about three down in front of this deli. Anyway…” Dean kneels down again, inspecting his car closely. “This shouldn’t be tough… probably have it ready by tomorrow if nothing comes up.”

           “Are you sure?” Castiel asks, “If you have other clients waiting –“

           “Nah I finished up my last appointment for the day already. Don’t stress about it.”

           “That’s very nice of you,” he says, “all the other places I tried wouldn’t help me and here you make it sound so easy…” Then, Castiel remembers what Meg told him. “And for no pay? I don’t mind, I have the money –“

           Dean reaches out for Castiel, grabbing his wrist to stop him from taking out his wallet. “I insist. I’m always looking for ways to give back to our community.”

           Castiel smiles, his skin burning from Dean’s touch. “Our – ah… our community?” he starts, “do you mean that in a friendly neighborhood sense or…”

           He rolls his eyes. “In a rainbow way.”

           “Ah.” Castiel glances around the garage, gaze unable to land on any one point for long. “I was wondering… this is a very progressive garage.”

           “Has been since the beginning,” Dean tells him, leaning against Castiel’s car, “Bobby’s been a staple here for a long time ever since he and his wife Karen moved in years ago.”

           “Bobby?”

           “Bobby Singer, the big ol’ boss of this place,” he explains, “He and Karen came here when things got dangerous for them back where they used to live.”

           “Why was that?”

           Dean launches Castiel back into the past, where a newly married Bobby and Karen were being threatened nearly every night when one of the women in Sioux Falls discovered Karen hadn’t always been called Karen. Gangs of men hung out in front of their house, dumping cigarette butts on their lawn. Every time they went out they were watched and followed, confronted on the days when people had a little more confidence than normal. Any room they entered became so silent a cough could shatter glass. Neither Bobby nor Karen was willing to move at first, until the first rock was thrown through their window. They packed their bags and left in the early morning, not stopping until their car broke down in California.

           Bobby pushed it all the way to the closest garage. “It was closing,” Dean says, “And the only one there was the owner – and he didn’t see why he should help. So Bobby grabbed a box of tools and set to work. Halfway through fixing his own car, someone pulled up and asked Bobby to look under his hood. He did and made the engine purr. Owner saw and demanded Bobby give him the money from that. Made a deal and bought the place with what was left of their savings.”

           “And he turned it into this,” Castiel says, “I wish I knew about Singer’s sooner… would have saved me a lot of guff whenever I needed my oil changed.”

           “I’ll admit we can do better in advertising,” Dean shrugs, “Mainly we rely on word-of-mouth… although we did get a lot of customers after Benny namedropped us in one of his shows.”

           “Benny?”

           Dean jerks his thumb over towards the burly man from earlier, chatting with the previously bickering mechanics by the truck. “He’s a drag queen. Performs over at the Roadhouse every Wednesday as ‘The Vamp’. I mentioned he should promote the garage in his act one night when I was helping him do his make-up.”

           Castiel recalls the picture of the drag queen he saw pinned to the cork board, notices the similarities between the figure captured and the one in front of him. “Is everyone who works here a… um, on the rainbow?”

           “More or less,” Dean shrugs, “Jo – the blonde – been on Estrogen for two years, has her first round of surgery coming up in a few weeks. Dorothy doesn’t conscribe to the binary but they still identify as a lesbian…” He swings his finger over to the lounge area. “Max is as gay as the next guy but his sister Alicia’s our token straight.” Turning back to face Castiel he says, “And Charlie you already know only goes for chicks.”

           “And you?”

           “Me?” Dean chuckles, “Why I’m bi as fuck!”

           Castiel laughs as well. “Are you trying to collect all the letters?”

           “Like queer Pokémon,” Dean nods, earning another round of snickers. “Nah, we all kinda drifted together. Jo and the Banes twins lived in the area – Jo’s mom actually owns the Roadhouse. But the rest of us… Bobby took under his wing in one way or another.”

           Storm clouds brew in the timbre of Dean’s voice, the shiny jewels of his eyes losing their luster. Castiel feels the temperature between them dip low by tens of degrees. Whatever Dean doesn’t say must weigh heavily to flatten the good mood he was in.

      ��    It’s a familiar burden Castiel knows all too well.

           “Do you know what my name means?”

           Dean blinks, thrown off by the sudden shift in topics. “Uh… no –“

           “It’s a bastardized version of an angel’s name,” he explains, “Cassiel. They thought the extra ‘s’ was too… feminine. But I was born on a Thursday and…” Castiel trails off, grimacing.

           “Religious family?” Dean asks.

           He nods. “My dad was heavily involved with our local Church.”

           “So when you…”

           “It was not a fun time,” Castiel says, “I didn’t go home for the first two years after I left for college but… we learned not to speak about it. Although every now and then my mother sends me pamphlets for seminary school.”

           Dean barks out a rough laugh, biting his lip. A brief, charged silence stands between them where Castiel can’t breathe. He nearly backs away, tells Dean that it’s okay. They’re strangers – all he needs is a body job, not a life story. But then he sucks his lower lip under his teeth and starts.

           “My dad caught me fooling around with another boy when I was sixteen,” he says, “And after the punches kicked me out on my ass. Joke’s on him, though, because I managed to snag the keys to the car. Drove around for the first year seeing the sights until I found my way to Bobby’s. Picked up shifts part-time until he noticed me sleeping in my car. Cuffed me on the head and told me to take the spare room in the apartment above.”

           “Karen didn’t mind?”

           “Karen died years earlier,” Dean smiles ruefully, “Cancer. But she would’ve done the same thing. Wish I could’ve met her, though, heard she made killer apple pie.”

           And in that moment, Castiel finds himself wishing he had the chance as well. Dean talks about his family with so much love he wants to meet them all, or at least here him tell more stories about them. Knowing that this group of people have found each other and are happy gives Castiel more hope for the future for people like them.

           Dean Winchester’s gravitation is too powerful to resist, and Castiel falls into his orbit happily.

           A set of squeaky wheels interrupts their conversation, an older man in a trucker’s cap rolling up to them. “Winchester,” he barks, “I don’t pay you to stand around and flirt. Git to work on this poor boy’s car!”

           They break apart, both their cheeks bright red. Dean hangs his head, rubbing his hands against his coveralls. “Right away, Bobby.”

           Bobby shakes his head, leaving them. “Idjits…”

           Castiel shuffles his feet, wringing his hands together. He waits until the other man is far away before speaking again. “So… that’s Bobby.”

           “Yeah,” he huffs, “Bastard’s usually never this ornery… probably getting me back for walking in on him and his boyfriend the other night.” Dean scoffs, crossing his arms, “Not my fault Crowley didn’t lock the damn door…”    

           The past few minutes catch up with Castiel and he feels the awkwardness creeping back up his spine like a spider. “I… I should be going,” he stutters out, startling Dean.

           “Really?” Dean asks, his frown confusing to Castiel’s already addled mind.

           He nods, pacing backwards. “Thank you for your help and… and the talk.” Then before Dean could respond Castiel races out the garage door and doesn’t look back. Castiel makes it past the leather shop before he falls back against the storefront and gasps for breath.

           “Castiel,” he mumbles to himself, “stupid… ‘and the talk’. Why can’t you talk to pretty boys without losing your head.”

           He knocks his head against the brick latticework repeatedly, angry with how he blew his shot with the pretty mechanic. In between the heavy pounding she gives himself he hears a slight cough to his right.

           Squinting an eye open Castiel sees Dean watching him with an amused grin across his face. Throwing himself away from the wall, Castiel turns to face him. “Dean?” he starts, “What are… what are you doing here?”

           Dean steps closer, invading Castiel’s space. The smell of motor oil and cologne makes him dizzy. “You left in such a hurry, Cas, you forgot to give me your phone number.”

           His heart skips over itself as a sunny ray of hope shoots across his chest. Clouds return to cover it when he remembers past garage experiences where mechanics needed it to reach him. He deflates. “Right, so you can tell me when my car’s ready.”

           Dean juts his lower lip out, head bobbing as he considers Castiel’s statement. “Yeah for that, too.”

           “Too?”

           “Well I mean how else can I ask you out if I don’t have your number?”

           A stone lodges itself in Castiel’s throat. “You… you want to ask me out… on a date?”

           His eyebrows jump up. “I… I wasn’t misreading anything… was I?”

           That spurs Castiel into action. “No, no! You weren't… I am… I’m interested.”

           Dean relaxes, hand splayed against his chest. “Good, got nervous there for a second.” He looks to Castiel, waiting. “So…?”

           They exchange numbers, Dean handing Castiel’s phone back with a wink and a promise to call later. Then he heads back to the garage to smooth out the scratches on his car.

           Castiel stands there, outside the leather shop, too shocked to move. Somehow he gains control of his legs again and picks one up after the other.

           When he makes it to the bus stop, Castiel pulls his phone out and stares at Dean’s number. Butterflies flutter in his stomach as the largest smile blossoms on his face.

           It stays there all the way back to his apartment.

[lifepomsgay]

gay rights paper

                                           Gay rights

There is a lot of improvement on the right of lgbtq people, but there should be more change and we should keep progressing to make it so every country the lgbtq community has equal rights as everyone. This paper talks about Stone Wall inn riots, black cat protest, Netherlands compared to the united states on gay rights and Egypt and how it is still bad.

In the united states the most well know protest for gay rights is the Stonewall riots. It is what sparked the gay rights movement in the united states. The Stonewall riots started on June 28, 1969. Like most gay bars in that time the stonewall inn was owned by the mafia. In 1969 be gay was against the law in the united states. The police raided the stonewall inn June 1969 there had been many riots at gay bars at this time the people at the stonewall inn had enough they did not like how they were being treated. The police stared checking ids and taking gender nonconforming people to the bathroom to make sure they had at least 3 pieces of clothing of their sex assigned at birth. If they did not pass this check, they were put in police cars. Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera both trans women started the riot by throwing the first bricks and bottles and yelling ant the police. Eventually other people from the bar joined the riot causing the police to barricade themselves in the inn. The patrons of the Stonewall inn had enough of being oppressed and stood up for themselves. This led to days of protest. the Stonewall riots lead to the first pride parade. In a democracy now on June 28 2019 they had a remembering stonewall on 50th anniversary, leaders of the uprising look back on sparking the lgbtq movement.

Years before the stone wall riot was the black cat protest, los Angeles February 11, 1967. What sparked this protest was Jan 1 1967 and how the patrons of the black cat tavern were treated according to Daniel Avery article 10 lgbt uprisings before stone wall Avery said “On New Year's Day 1967, undercover cops raided the Black Cat Tavern in Silver Lake, brandishing guns and beating patrons with clubs and pool cues. A bartender was pulled across the bar, lacerating his face on broken glass. Several drag queens were arrested, as were two men engaging in a New Year's kiss. (The couple was convicted of lewd conduct and had to register as sex offenders.)” This is horrible that people were celebrating the new year and treated this way. That is horrible that two young men got put on the sex offender list just because they kissed. The two men did nothing wrong they were gay and kissed each other and got punished for it they got swept up in the new year. It is sad at this time that being gay was against the law in the united states. Avery also said “Weeks later, 200 protesters picketed for days in front of the tavern, marking the first time LGBT people organized against police harassment. They were met by squadrons of armed officers but continued their peaceful protest.” 200 protesters stood up for those people that were mis treated on January 1 1967. The stood for the men arrested and put on the sex offender list. They stood up for the drag queens and the bartender. Those 200 people stood up for their right and the right of future generations. This protest is not well known about but the fact that it the first time LGBT people organized against police harassment is amazing. These protesters were peace full, but the cops were not. The protesters were not treated kind by the cops. According to Hailey Branson article Fifty years later, Silver Lake tavern stands as a monument to L.A.'s gay rights movement Branson said “On Saturday night, the 50th anniversary of the demonstration, they marched again outside the Black Cat on Sunset Boulevard, carrying picket signs with the same words as those in the black-and-white photos of the original protest. “Silence = Death,” the signs read. “Peace in Silverlake.” “Stop illegal search and seizure.” “Blue fascism must go.”” This shows how important the black Cat protest was. It shows people are trying to remember history and make sure history does not repeat its self. People that did this on the 50th anniversary wanted to make sure the brave 200 people were not forgotten. They wanted to make sure that people relied how far we have come how hard we fought and fight still.

With all these protest in the United states, but the United states is not the best for gay rights Netherlands is the best for gay rights and passed more laws sooner then most places in the world. Netherlands also has more protections then other places.  Since May 5, 1945 in Netherlands it is legal to be queer.  That is very impressive in the united states it has only been legal since June 26, 2003 to be queer. That is a 59-year gap between the two different countries. With Stonewall in 1969 it still tock the United states tell 2003 to make being queer legal. On the first of April 2001 Netherlands made same sex marriage legal. It was the first country in the world to make it legal. At this time, it was still against the law to be queer in the United states. The United states made same sex marriage legal in June 26, 2015. 14 years after Netherlands.  In the Netherlands they made it legal to change your gender on official documents without surgery in December 18, 2013.  In the United states it has been legal since 2013 but depending what state you are in you still might need surgery to change your gender.  In Netherlands it has been legal for same sex couples to adopt a child since September 12, 2000.  In the United states it has varied since April 1986 if same couples can adopt depend on the state and the state’s law. So, this is better but also worse because not all states allow it still. In Netherlands it is illegal to discriminate against the LGBTQ since 1993. This is not that good because they had made being queer legal since 1945. So, it took a lot of time for no discrimination. In the United states discrimination is illegal depending on the individual state laws, since January 2011. Netherlands was the first country to allow gay soldiers to serve openly in the military since 1974. In the United states gay, bi, lesbian can serve openly in the army. Since July 1 2016. Trans people are banned from serving in the army since April 12, 2019 because of president’s Donald Trump law. In Netherlands conversion Therapy is regulated not banned or criminalized. Since fed 14, 2014. In the United states conversion therapy is banned in Washington, Illinois, Washington DC, New Jersey, California, Untitled states minor outlying islands. The other states are not banned but are regulated. It is impressive that some states have it banned but would be more impressive if all the states had it banned.

I talked about good countries now lets look at some bad ones. In Egypt they are not a good place. In article by Handley Stewart “you can’t be out” Gay Egyptians continue to fear persecution. Stewart said “While same-sex sexual relations are not explicitly prohibited in Egyptian law, a 2017 report by the International Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans and Intersex Association (ILGA) found that “the Law on the Combating of Prostitution, and the law against debauchery have been used liberally to imprison gay men in recent years.”  That is not cool that they use the word debauchery to imprison gay men. It is disgusting that Egypt makes queer people hid who they are so they will not get prosecuted and throwing into jail.

As you can see laid out in this paper there has been many good strides to make it so the lgbtq couminty has equal rights, but we should keep improving so people do not need to fear who they are. Also people do not regret who they are.

  Reference page

 BecarefulNotToLook, and Imullin01. "Equaldex." LGBT Rights in United States. N.p., n.d. Web. 5 Dec. 2019.

Branson-potts, Hailey. "Fifty Years Later, Silver Lake Tavern Stands as a Monument to L.A.'s Gay Rights Movement." Los Angeles Times. Los Angeles Times, 12 Feb. 2017. Web. 10 Dec. 2019.

Danlev. "Equaldex." LGBT Rights in Netherlands. N.p., n.d. Web. 5 Dec. 2019.

Sonoma, Serena, and Roslyn Talusan. "6 Facts You May Not Know About The Stonewall Riots." Wear Your Voice. N.p., 28 June 2017. Web. 5 Dec. 2019.

Stewart, Hadley. "'You Can't Be Out': Gay Egyptians Continue to Fear Persecution." NBCNews.com. NBCUniversal News Group, 21 Aug. 2018. Web. 11 Dec. 2019.

[vamprnce]

Make Me Feel A Way

Prompt: When Chris first realized he liked Johnny as more than a friend

asked for some fic prompts because I needed some topic to write abt, i just love writing abt Chris and Johnny thank u anon again! 💜 (if anyone has fic prompts for these two lemme know please!)

ao3

All the feelings fell on him like a pile of bricks crashed on top of him. It was heavy and it was sudden. How could've he been so blindsided?

It came out of nowhere, really. But it was strange, it crept up behind him and made it's mark. Feelings. Why are they a thing and why are they so complicated?

After a whole mess of shit coming out of the coma, escaping prison, saving Johnny's ass and a thousand other things that felt like it was trying to drag him down, things eventually began to smooth out. Not fully. But enough where things felt stable and he can breath easy for awhile. Then a lot of things happened fast over the course of a few months, things that he wished he was able to breath easy again. Things that just made him even more fucked, cold and bitter.

But at the same time, something strange happened. Something that didn't make sense but fit right in how he felt about his life at the moment. Something he hasn't felt it in a long time.

Love.

He's loved people in the past, more or less, mostly had flings or just wanted to get laid. But this, this was something entirely new. It came as a wave, a small ripple at first but in a blink of an eye it came crashing down on to the shore. It was overwhelming and he didn't quite know what to do about it. What could he do about it? He was fucked and he knew it.

"Fuck." is all Boss whispers to himself, staring up at the white ceiling. He was drenched it cold sweat. Nights weren't kind to him nowadays and he mostly couldn't go one night without a shitty nightmare. Last night seemed different, it wasn't his usually nightmares but it did compare. Boss was in the bedroom of the Purgatory, it's his usually hideout spot. When he didn't want to sleep at the other cribs and be around people he shuts himself away at the Purgatory. People seem to know to keep away and not bother him if he's there. Even if he doesn't say it, he most likely doesn't have to.

When waking up his mood wasn't so pretty. It's those moods where he'll snap bones like twigs if anyone dares talking to him, let a lone breathes near him. It wasn't a good day to be a Saint. He had a perfect reason not to be in a good mood, well he thought so. It was that dirty dream that nagged on his brain, it was on repeat. Over and over.

What right did his mind have to dream up about his best friend. It was a stupid dream, it was the Boss and Johnny. He vaguely remembers all the details but one thing stuck out which was him kissing and touching Johnny. The thought of it made his heart ache in his chest. He didn't even want to think about it, even when he tried to ignore it all these feelings rushed in instead.

It freaked him out and he didn't know what to do with himself. Why did he dream about him? Why was he having these romantic feelings? It made his chest feel heavy and it was hard to swallow. He didn't like Johnny that way, did he? It's not like it was impossible, for him anyways, everyone knew he's bisexual. He didn't care and it wasn't so much a secret in the first place. It never affected his reputation to the gang or anyone.

But these feelings for Johnny were new. He never thought of him that way before, not that he can remember at least. He didn't understand the sudden emotions for the man. Boss was lost in his thoughts walking aimlessly around the now under construction hideout. He thought hard about it now, it was itching inside of his brain.

He thought about everything, his smile and his laugh, just how amazing it sounded and looked and how it made him feel warm. How he felt this familiar coziness with him, it felt right and natural to just be around him. He then thought all the times they were really close and actually talked about things they never done before or say to anybody else out loud. It was a closeness he appreciated deeply, he would never trade that for the world. He smiled to himself thinking till his brain did a 180° and the thought of him kissing his lips almost made him crash into some group members talking amongst themselves in the lobby.

He awkwardly recovered and tried to excuse himself from the others. He's thankful he had a hoodie on so he can hide his embarrassment on his face from all these emotions and the near accident. Putting the hoodie up he beelined towards the makeshift office up the stairs. All these thoughts weren't doing any good. It's not like he's going to walk up and say "hey Johnny, I just started having emotional romantic feelings for you, let's go fucking date!". He plopped down heavy in one of the chairs in the room, he's glad no one's really up here at this time. All he wants is to just sit and be left alone in his suffering.

Another thought came to him, he hasn't seen Johnny at all yet. He's a bit nervous to actually see him, what if he did something stupid in front of him because of these thoughts? He couldn't tell him, it's not right or the time to. He had his fists curled in balls on his knees and he frowned at the floor. This was stupid and pathetic. He laughed to himself, there was no reason to fuss all over this. Besides he's the leader of the Saints, he had to no time to worry over this grade school crush.

He stood up from the chair and decided to go do something more productive instead, sitting around when there's more important things to do wasn't his thing. He pushed all the nagging feelings in the back of his mind but he still felt chest tighten and his palms sweaty.

He was truly fucked. He was in love with his best friend.

[bluebipples]

Mora/Bean is Canon

(but I’m not sure about Endgame)

A very (very) long, unnecessary post. I’d like to start this off by saying bisexuality is consistently erased in the tumblr community, but this isn’t about if bean is bi or a lesbian because it literally does not matter 

*ahem* Also, spoilers if you haven’t watched season 3 because, i don’t know, you probably have a life

anyway, there’s lots of speculation on whether or not Bean’s romance with Mora was a dream or not, and I’m here to give you the (probably) definitive answer (and throw a wild guess at the next season).

To begin with, Disenchantment is no stranger to foreshadowing. In fact, rewatching the show a few times you notice that the writers practically laid everything out in front of us the entire time. It’s actually admirable from a writer’s perspective, imo, but I’m not here to cream my pants over the writers. An example of their consistent foreshadowing would begin in the very first episode, when a blimp is seen in the far background of one of the scenes over some mountains. This would later be explained by the introduction of Steamland, which became a pinnacle location to the plot in seasons 2 and 3. There are plenty more examples, but I’d rather save it for the ones I’ve found in season 3. (And, one could argue, Bean asking a hot mermaid to nibble her earlobes was foreshadowing her later romance with one, but, hey, who am i to over-speculate)

Now, for the juicy stuff, as well as some artistic appreciation. Was anyone else absolutely in love with the ocean scenery? Like, somebody popped the fuck off in the background department bc hot damn. Don’t worry, I promise, this is extremely relevant. 

(excuse the thing in the top left) This is the sky a few hours after they’d left Steamland, meaning it’s early morning / sunrise. Holy shit, I nearly cried when I saw this scene. This is goddamn beautiful. The clouds? The blending? The bright coloration? Who the fuck did this??? How do I give them money??

Sorry for the lack of a consistent timeline, but I didn’t get a good shot of the sky in the same day afternoon shot, so, here’s the afternoon sky before Bean and Elfo crash.

And this delightful pink son of a bitch is the sunset, into which our ladies rode with my heart soaring. At this point, I had to pause to search ‘disenchantment’ on tumblr to see if it was gay and sure enough the top image was mora and bean kissing. i love this hellhole.

Now, why the hell are skies relevant, my friends? Well (I’m starting to realize this is another fucking dumb sky post like that one that’s 10 years long but this is worse because I’m losing my mental sanity to prove half an episode in a 3 season cartoon actually happened)

This would be when the ‘dream’ starts, which is after Bean hits her head, and presumably, late afternoon. Swimming with your mermaid girlfriend underwater all the way to Mermaid Island probably takes some time, so they get there by, say, sunset maybe?

yes, i use subtitles, i do not have a good attention span. So, yeah, maybe sunset-ish, or like, really late afternoon. 

and, of course, our wildest sapphic fantasies come true. again, excuse the subtitles. 

Here’s the juicy juicy shit that real good-good. Please stay with me.

The lyrics to Mora’s song:

They say that you’re a drowner

And we’re parted by the sea

But I can keep you floating

If you just hold on to me

I’ll keep you safe, I’m on your team

And when it feels like just a dream

Believe it’s true

Because I do

And someday if there’s a war

On some not-so-distant shore

And lines are drawn

I’m never gone

This star’s your guide

And I am always on your side

Well, well, well, how the dots have connected and my gay brain is spiraling. Not only am I swooning, but I’m also itching with theories. Lots of ‘em. I’m about to give MatPat a run for his money. 

First, I wanna get out there that if you tell me Bean’s subconscious could have written that song, you are incorrect. Bean is a lot of things, but... creative isn’t exactly one of them. There’s an entire episode dedicated to how bad she as at writing creatively (unless it’s about her familial issues): season 2, episode 8: In Her Own Write.

So, ‘when it feels like just a dream / believe it’s true’ sounds a whole lot like we’re being told something. Or, Bean is, but she’s not great at picking up hints. Another fact we are shown again and again and again. 

‘Someday if there’s a war / On some not-so-distant shore’ I mean, this shouldn’t be so hard to point out. Kinda seems like Dreamland is in a bit of a tizzy right now, huh? I mean, what with the Elves learning that the Trøgs are direct descendants of their forgotten ancestors that adapted to living underground overtime and- oh- wait- did that not get revealed yet?

Well, let me do you a think by referencing Skyrim because that’s the easiest example I can think of. There are these ugly bitches that ruin my entire day every time I encounter them called the Falmer that dwell underground that were once Snow Elves, but had adapted to living underground after, you guessed it, the arrival of... goddamn nords/humans (a few centuries after, but still). Large eyes with poor vision, bigger ears to make up for that lack of vision, and a more grey skin pallor from, y’know, living underground. I won’t give you a lecture on evolution, because this is already super duper long. Kinda wild that Disenchanted would take a commonly used Fantasy trope like creatures colonized by humans adapting to life underground, it’s almost like the whole show is to poke fun of overdone fantasy tropes.

And, of course, it’s revealed that the Lost Kingdom of the Elves is underneath Dreamland, directly where the Trøgs dwell. It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. Elves have hidden themselves in this world - remember, Elfo was the first elf since Leavo to leave Elfwood in years. So let me spin you a yarn about a well-known tale called Colonization. I’m sure we all know where this is going. Clearly, not all of the elves stayed underneath Dreamland. Judging by how many Trøgs there are in relation to how many elves, I assume less than or around half of the elf population managed to evacuate Dreamland while those who remained took to living in the shadows. We’ve seen the conditions of their underworld, and, well, one can assume they went a bit nutty along the way. I’m sure the mushroom spores didn’t help.

Then, there’s the prophecy. Bean, Elfo and Luci are the saviors of the Trøgs.

‘Lines are drawn’ - after Bean is crowned Queen Bean (lol) she and Elfo drift apart. He obviously feels abandoned by her, and even if he did sacrifice himself for Dreamland, I’m certain he won’t be killed. I’m on that wonderful conspiracy train that the Ogre Queen is his mother, but that’s another story for another day though it’s somewhat related. Needless to say, if the Elves declare war on Dreamland, lines will certainly be drawn. And, I recall my statement above: Bean, Elfo and Luci are the saviors of the Trøgs. I’d count it as ‘saving’ them if they reunite with their cousins, the Elves, and take back the kingdom that once belonged to them; wouldn’t you?

‘I’m never gone / This star’s your guide / And I am always on your side’ This is a callback to a few things in this episode. Mora tells Bean that the heart of the Big Flipper leads to Mermaid Island, as Bean recalls when she is given the necklace Mora made for her. So, that’s another double nudge-nudge wink-wink from the writers (a joke they also made consistently this season, making me feel aggressively mocked. so i have powerpoints on this show, now, and nothing to do with them.) 

Anyway, if the Elves and Trøgs do succeed in taking over Dreamland, Mora has explicitly stated that Bean has an ally in her - and, of course, the mermaids. So, looking too deeply into a song written by a fictional mermaid for her equally fictional girlfriend aside, let’s move on to more obvious evidence.

Bean then wakes up on the beach to Elfo saying nobody wanted to help them, , yadda yadda, it was clearly a dream, right?

(yes, I wanted to get the caption that made me cry. now you have to be sad, too.) except, wait a second, that’s a goddamn morning sky. And, beyond that, the very next episode which continues off from Bean and Elfo walking back to Dreamland, it’s also morning and leads right into the rest of the same day. well, shit me a brick. chronologically, it makes sense for this to have not been a dream.

and, naturally, the nail in the coffin. There it is, the necklace, right there in front of our fat faces. I’m sure you’re wondering how Bean can sleep through swimming underwater for presumably hours, but, hey, tHAT’S JUST A TH-

In conclusion, the Disenchantment writers make it a point to give us not-so-subtle hints (mostly in the background) towards future plots. This seemingly innocuous, what, ten minutes of a sapphic fantasy come true could be an incredibly important plot point. It’s not the first time they’ve used a small storyline to pull the strings together for a far bigger one - they literally do it every season, multiple times. My evidence towards Mora and Bean having a real romance stems from the design of the sky backgrounds that clearly show the passage of time throughout the episode (and show), as well as the fact that Mora’s necklace washes up on shore not long after Bean wakes up. Along with this presented evidence, I believe the Elves are going to try and overthrow Dreamland (just like, basically, every other kingdom or secret society in this show) and Bean will have to figure out for herself if Mora really is waiting for her on Mermaid Island. As for what else Season 4 has in store, I have lots of other theories but for the 4 people who read this, I shall not disclose.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk, and I am so very sorry.

Also, here’s a bonus pic of the ocean scenery.

(luci voice) who did that?

[empressfiend]

We're Marching On (Magnus-centric fic)

Magnus Appreciation Month December 3rd: Music Read on Ao3.

(introspection on Dom’s use of gay slur and lgbt+ history)

There's so many wars we fought;

There's so many things we’re not;

*~*~*~*

Rare were the days that Magnus Bane would glamour himself to be invisible to the whole world but today was one of them. This week had been full of blows, one after the other without break, and he’d had enough. Today was one of the multiple dark days he had had in the past when he had wondered why on earth he was living in the United States when there were plenty other countries who wouldn’t be so vocally and outwardly hateful towards his kind.

But, he supposed, after living for so long being put down again and again by his parents, the people who raised him, religious men and women, public figures, mundanes, Shadowhunters, Downworlders, so-called LGBT+ allies, and even some individuals from the LGBT+ community, he must have gotten used to it somewhere along the way.

And also, maybe, he had come to think that he deserved to be looked down on and treated less because who was he, anyway, other than the product of rape? Magnus Bane, the Great Destruction, son of the Prince of Hell, bisexual, Asian, a man who wore make-up, a fag, an abomination, a monster – he was so many things and yet none of them were really anything good.

He could take what he was and make himself out to be better than everyone because he was powerful and could wear undying confidence like a well-worn battle suit but it would make no difference in the end.

With every two steps that progress and equality made, they had had to take one step back and he was tired of it. He was so… tired of everything. He’d lived long enough to realise that the majority of the world wouldn’t accept him, not even when humanity reached its bitter end. And so he had settled with ensuring that he had safe environments to snuggle in and people he could be somewhat himself with without needing to fear or having a front but he couldn’t have those either, could he?

He could still hear the words vividly in his mind, the way Jace had nonchalantly called Simon a ‘fag’ as if the word was a joke that was funny or an innocent word that held no terrible meaning or worse, a word that was in the same category as ‘slut’, ‘bitches’, ‘asshole’, and the like.

All the strength he had to keep himself together had snapped then and he had been unable to hold in his flood of negative emotions. The horrors that were happening in the world, the regression of America’s progress towards equality, and the blatant ignorance and hate his people were suffering through out in the open once more – they were enough without him having to hear such slur from Alexander’s brother and yet...

So many uneducated and ignorant people liked to think that homophobic slurs were of the past but they weren’t. They liked to forgive with uttered excuses but there were no excuses that could forgive such words being said. There was only atonement and that was something that he held no hope for when it came to those people who said such things in the first place nor for those who defended such people.

Hatred and ignorance worked hand-in-hand and those who wilfully blinded themselves were hard to help.

A year ago, he had met up with a lovely girl, Erin Davies. She had the unfortunate experience of having ‘fag’ and ‘u r gay’ spray-painted onto her gorgeous Volkswagon when she was in college and she was one of the few mentally strong young LGBT+ individuals that stood up against hatred with courage and bravery. What had been a blatant insult to her very existence, Erin had used to raise awareness of homophobia and LGBT+ rights in the United States and she had done so beautifully.

Her film, ‘The Fagbug’, had helped countless people educate themselves and countless more to be stronger. But when he had met up with her a few days into May, she was shaken, fresh from an encounter with a man named White that had taken one look at her beautiful Volkswagon, coloured in the colours of the rainbow and named ‘fagbug’, and charged into the post office she was at to spit at her, threaten her with a beating and death, and physically assault her.

He had been angry then, with the cruelty she had had to face after all the good she had done and he was angry now with Jace. Having Alexander, a gay man, as a brother, he’d have thought Jace would have the decency to be more educated and not be one more person that threw out slurs so casually. But more than being angry, he was disappointed with himself for hoping, upset that his trust in Alexander’s brother was unfounded and broken, and ultimately, he just felt utterly hopeless.

Magnus looked down from the top of the pillar of Brooklyn Bridge at the cars and night joggers rushing past below him then at the rest of the glittering city. He should have been home hours ago and he knew Alexander was waiting and yet he couldn’t move from where he was because the only way down he wanted to go was into the water that was temptingly lit up.

He closed his eyes with a sigh, slowly lowered himself down to lie down flat on the cold brick and tried to block out the noise that seemed to press against him oppressively. The sound of a siren made his heart jump and as it came closer and closer, he could feel himself wanting to shut the world away, when his phone vibrated in his hand, as it had done so continuously since he had stormed out of the Institute, and he opened his eyes to switch it off to airplane mode.

Wind blew past him, biting and chilly, as he took out and untangled the mess of his earphones; the wires fluttered violently in the air before he successfully banished all the ties and slotted the earpieces into his ears and plugged the other end into his phone.

Having not bothered to pick a playlist, his music player went through some upbeat and bass-heavy music that made him remember the good times he would have in Pandemonium dancing without a care in the world and he lost himself in those exhilarating memories, freeing times where how he moved and flowed were all that was in his mind and nothing else.

A sigh left his lips when a soothing beat greeted him and he was graced with the heavenly voice of Ryan Tedder. He tapped his phone to have the song play on repeat and let himself sink into the lyrics as a tentative smile played on his lips and his chest ached. The words struck a chord inside of him and his heavy heart gradually lightened up so when the song played again, he started to sing along.

“For those days we felt like a mistake,

Those times when love’s what you hate,

Somehow,

We keep marching on.”

It had taken him a long time to stop hating his parents for what they had done; his mother for killing herself over him when he had done nothing wrong and his father for trying to murder him. It took even longer for him to forgive himself for being the cause of his mother and father’s death. And it had taken a little more to fully be comfortable in his own skin no matter the circumstances that brought him to being.

But even now, those feelings lingered, reinforced by the many friends and lovers who had claimed to care for him and love him only to carelessly use words that insulted him, turn their back on him when he needed them most, spit on his kind, and crush his heart.

He had avoided getting close to people because of how much they had torn his good will apart and just when he had opened his heart again, he was disappointed swiftly by Alexander’s brother. It said a lot about his trust and love for Alexander that he wasn’t packing his bags and leaving yet, never to open his heart and let people in again.

“For those nights when I couldn’t be there,

I’ve made it harder to know that you know,

That somehow,

We’ll keep moving on.”

In the late 19th century, there was a short period when he had stayed in New Orleans. It was a vibrant city even then and he had frequented a lovely bar named UpStairs Lounge at the French Quarter. It was his safe haven during those days and he had found solace and family in the LGBT+ community there. They would all enjoy drinks and dance at the end of long days except that one fateful night that he had been called on for help by the Clave.

He had gone to Idris, foregoing a night with friends, in order to quell their persistent demand only to find they merely required information from him as they arrogantly insulted him when he was graciously granting them their ‘request’.

It was one of the most regrettable decisions he had made in his life.

When he arrived back to the bar, it was to a burnt building, his friends dead or on stretchers, and his safe place gone. He could remember clearly the faces of his friends: burnt, vacant, and crying. And the callousness with which everyone treated their sufferings.

Those who had died, he and his friends had helped identify in good faith until they had all realised that the parents weren’t coming and their friends had been disowned in death. He had cried, in public, in front of his friends, and the heartless men and women that just wanted to throw his late friends into the ground to be done with it; he had lost a part of his hope for humanity then.

When everyone had left, he had returned and he had taken his friends away for proper burials. He had buried them with love and compassion, with his sweat and tears; he had dug up graves, laid them to rest, and covered them in soil with his bare hands as an act of respect. He had relished the ache in his bones and the tears he had shed for them and he hoped that they felt his sincerity.

Those who had been fortunate enough to live had come knocking on his door in tears, fired from their jobs and kicked out of their homes because they bore the signs of being burnt alive in a fire that consumed a homosexual bar, and he could do nothing but offer them his hug, his words, and his alcohol.

Eventually, he had left New Orleans, only to drop by now and again to check on his friends from afar.

“There’s so many wars we fought,

There’s so many things we’re not,

But with what we have,

I promise you that,

We’re marching on.”

When 1982 came, he had been ready to face the world again, to hope, and he had gone to New York to join the Pride Parade. He’d dressed in his best clothes and by the end of the day he found himself pissed drunk in his underwear with a henna on his chest, a police cap on his head, a fake moustache floating in his drink, and a gorgeous Drag Queen serenading him with charming tones.

It had been fun, glorious, and just what he needed to get up and go face the world again with renewed hope.

“For those doubts that swirl all around us,

For those lives that tear at the seams,

We know,

We’re not what we’ve seen.”

There were many days that he considered himself to be in the grey area between the LGBT+ community and the heterosexuals. As a bisexual man, it was hard to gain complete acceptance from both but there were days where it was clear where he stood and where he didn’t want to be.

Jace wasn’t the first straight cisgender male that had homosexual friends and family and still remained so ignorant and uneducated. Only recently, he had come across a BuzzFeed article that accurately pinpointed the wrongs of so-called LGBT+ allies or friends.

That article’s title was wrong too though as it was, ‘20 Homophobic Things Straight People Still Say By Accident’, and the list was born from things heterosexual individuals said not out of accident or mistake but out of ignorance and the lingering homophobic teachings still etched into their brains.

‘I’m not prejudiced, I even have a gay friend.’ (That’s great, but it doesn’t mean you’re not a bigot.)

‘I don’t have a problem with lesbians, I love watching lesbian porn.’

I don’t care if you’re gay, just don’t try to flirt with me.’

‘Does this outfit look gay?’

‘That’s so gay.’

‘It’s one thing for her to be a lesbian, but does she have to be so butch?’

‘Didn’t she use to date a guy?’

‘I thought he always went after ladies?’

‘You don’t even seem gay, I had no idea you were.’

‘She left me and became a lesbo? Where did I go wrong?’

“For this dance, we’ll move with each other.

There ain’t no other step than one foot.

Right in front of the other.”

Magnus wasn’t a stranger to walking forward and pretending homophobic people didn’t exist but those he couldn’t truly resist answering back to or looking incredulously at were those who had LGBT+ friends or considered themselves allies when they weren’t. They made his hackles raise and made it hard for him to trust anyone that was heterosexual because people could claim to be whatever they wanted, it didn’t mean that was who they were.

“For all of the plans we’ve made,

There isn’t a flag I’d wave.

Don’t care if we bend,

I’d sink us to swim.

We’re marching on.”

One morning of many desolate mornings, he had wanted to be inspired by people who had stronger faith than him on that particular day and it had led him to attend a LGBT+ wedding which, at that point, was technically illegal in the United States.

He had been blessed for not only witnessing a gorgeous, emotional display of what ‘love is love’ really was but to also have the chance of meeting Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. She had performed the same-sex wedding for the lovely couple, one of the many lucky pairs she had supported ahead of the legalisation of marriage equality, and she was a delightful woman.

Ruth had a busy schedule but had taken time out to have a cup of coffee with him and to this day, he kept in contact with her if only for them both to vent frustration and use their combined knowledge to move along laws that would benefit the LBGT+ community.

“We’ll have the days we break,

And we’ll have the scars to prove it.

We’ll have the bonds that we save,

But we’ll have the heart not to lose it.”

Magnus startled when a flame erupted above his face and grabbed the smouldering letter from the air. A gentle smile stretched his lips as he traced Alexander’s writing on the paper and he slowly picked himself up to a stand. His finger sparked as he sent back a message and he took a deep breath of the icy air.

When he breathed out, his mind cleared and he squared his shoulders.

“For all of the times we’ve stopped,

For all of the things I’m not.”

He was going to stop thinking that people would educate themselves and halt his passivity. Hoping that people would become better in time wasn’t going to ever work but helping spur on the end goal of his hope just might.

The stubborn and delusional ones would have to wait however as he lacked the patience nor the compassion to bother. If they wanted to be so clueless their whole lives, then that was on them. But for those he knew had even a semblance of potential to be better, he was going to try until it was evident that he was wrong.

So come tomorrow, he was going to march into the Institute and lecture the crap out of Jace with Clary and Simon’s help. He will have Alexander and Izzy and Max sit down by the sideline to listen and learn and he was going to make sure he was better at helping his heterosexual friends be more educated and less ignorant.

“We put one foot in front of the other,

We move like we ain’t got no other.

We go when we go;

We’re marching on.”

Magnus unplugged his earphones as he took one last sweeping look at the sparkling East River and tucked the wires into his pocket along with his phone. The OneRepublic song kept playing in his mind though and he hummed it under his breath. Then, with a wave of his fingers, a portal sprung to life and he sang to himself firmly, “we keep marching on,” before leaving for the loft.

The moment he stepped through, he had a view of Alexander looking upset, nervous and scared on the couch. Large hands wrapped tightly around a red and white rose bouquet while long fingers fidgeted uneasily with each other. It lasted for a long second and by the next, he was being tugged firmly into his Shadowhunter’s arms.

He inhaled Alexander’s unique scent and let his head fall forward to rest on a leather-padded shoulder as lips descended on his cheek and he was peppered with kisses whilst apologies were being whispered into his skin. Concerned, he tilted his head up, raised a finger to place before his Shadowhunter’s lips and pressed down to trail gently on plush lips to Alexander’s jaw. He leaned forward to capture his Shadowhunter into a soft, chaste kiss. “You don’t owe me one.”

Almost immediately, the arms around him lifted him slightly off the floor and he was kissed deeply.

“I’m sorry you were hurt.” Alexander clarified when they parted.

Magnus leaned into the safe and warm hug once more and let himself be coddled and cradled by his Shadowhunter. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes when a kiss was placed on his forehead and he burrowed deeper into the cocoon of Alexander’s ever-fierce love.

*~*~*~*

But with what we have, I promise you that:

We're marching on.

Ao3 | Buy Me Coffee

I’ll write you a story/fic on Fiverr!

[bcboo]

Miss 34B

I’m having Barisi withdrawal. This is angsty and a bit fluffy.

Sonny has to decide between Miss 34B and someone who might never commit.

Also on AO3

------------------------------------

Sonny was sitting home alone on a Saturday night, it wasn’t ideal but he needed time to think. Time to think about Isabella, or Miss 34B as Amanda and Fin kept calling her. Amanda kept pestering him to introduce them, she wanted to make sure her partners partner was a good fit. He hadn’t introduced them as he just wasn’t sure about the relationship.

Isabella was a lovely person, funny, intelligent, everything Sonny could ask for. She was tall, long dark hair and had beautiful brown eyes. His parents had introduced them, she was the daughter of someone they knew at church. She was an office manager, a role that meant, as his parents said, she spent her days in a nice cosy office surrounded by decent hard-working people, not chasing down dangerous criminals. He chose not to tell them how many times he’d arrested one of those ‘decent hard-working people’ for heinous crimes.

Isabella was everything Sonny’s parents wanted for him, if they’d have met a few years ago Sonny suspected they’d already be married by now. But Sonny was a different person back then, that would have been before he happened.

Rafael Barba. Fruit from the forbidden tree. His crush on the ADA hit him like a tonne of bricks the first time he saw Barba in court and only grew from there. He’d always known he was bisexual but he kept that side of himself secret. Most of his family, especially his parents wouldn’t understand. So he admired Barba from afar, quite happily. Then one evening last year, after a few drinks with the squad to celebrate the successful end of a tricky case, Sonny and Rafael were left alone. Following every cliché in the book one thing led to another and they ended up in bed together. He assumed it was a onetime thing but then Barba invited him over the following week, then a few days after that as well. After the third time Rafael laid down the ground rules. It was just sex, he didn’t have the time or need for a relationship. No dates, no romance, no sappy messages, no home cooked meals, they wouldn’t be watching a movie together or going for walks along the beach. Also, it was to be kept secret, but that was a no brainer considering their work situation. It wasn’t Sonny’s style at all but he couldn’t resist.

And for a while it worked. They had amazing sex then went on their way. Sonny realised his feelings had grown but knew better than to say anything. Before long he also realised Rafael had developed feelings but he wouldn’t admit it. Sonny could tell from the little looks, the way he didn’t berate Sonny as much anymore, and even by the way they had sex. But still he didn’t dare say anything, why ruin a good thing?

Then the death threats started happening. At first Sonny was just mad that Rafael had kept this to himself when he was surrounded by people that could and would help. Mike’s death distracted from the threats for a while, but it was still going on. They caught and arrested Heredio but the threats kept coming. Sonny was agitated as the security detail assigned to Rafael meant they couldn’t be alone together.

It wasn’t long before Rafael insisted on dropping his security detail despite the threats. The lack of privacy was suffocating him. Whatever Sonny and Rafael had had started up again but it was different this time. Rafael wouldn’t rush to get Sonny out of his apartment when they were done any more. He looked at Sonny differently, he even started talking and opening up more.

One afternoon Sonny got a call from a local precinct. Rafael had been attacked by someone, he was at the hospital, the injuries weren’t major but they thought Manhattan SVU had to be informed as it was related to their case. Liv was away in Paris, Amanda was home with Jessie and it was just him and Fin holding down the fort. Sonny told Fin not to worry, he’d go talk to Barba, and Fin believed it was all professional courtesy, but Sonny needed to make sure Rafael was ok.

He was. Like the officer had said the injuries were minor. He had some bruising and a sprained ankle but nothing to write home about. Sonny took the details of the attack, description of the attacker, then insisted on driving Rafael home. He’s expected a fight over that but Rafael agreed.

They got back to his apartment and then Rafael tried to dismiss him, get him out of there as soon as possible. Sonny explained he just wanted to look after him, make sure he really was ok underneath the bravado. This lead to an argument which brought up things Sonny hadn’t wanted to discuss. Before he knew it he was telling Rafael to just admit he had feelings for him. Rafael refused, reiterated he didn’t want a relationship, said Sonny was nothing more than a pleasing distraction. The argument ended abruptly after that, and as quickly as the “relationship” had begun it was over.

They went back to being work colleagues and nothing more. Sonny passed Rafael’s case to Fin, claiming he needed to focus on another recent case instead. Rafael’s attacker was caught and as far as he knew that was the end of it. If Rafael was still getting threats he wasn’t saying anything.

For a while there was nothing. It was like the whole fling had never happened.

They worked closely on a case a few months later, Sonny had put his hand on Rafael’s arm while they were talking, not quite intimately but more than his usual accidental touches, and Rafael brushed him off very pointedly. So that, Sonny decided, was the end of that. A few weeks later his parents brought up Isabella and Sonny decided what the hell.

She really was lovely. She deserved a good relationship with a good man. She thought Sonny was a good man but how could he be when kept thinking about someone else?

The relationship up until recently had been going very well. They talked about anything and everything, they made each other laugh, they understood each other’s jokes. They spent their free time just being with each other. They tried new restaurants together, they went out to anywhere that seemed interesting, sometimes just wondering around the city. Sonny forgot how much he missed being out with someone. He couldn’t imagine walking through central park with Rafael, let alone holding his hand in public.

Sonny had thought maybe this could be something special, that he could throw himself into it and Rafael would just become a memory but he’d noticed something the other day. It was subtle, probably no-one else would have noticed it. They were in Rafael’s office with Amanda and Liv discussing a case when Sonny had got a text from Isabella. He’s smiled reading it which Amanda picked up on immediately. She teased him about it, asked how Miss 34B was doing and when they were ever going to meet this mystery woman who had swept Sonny off his feet.

Rafael looked jealous. The look didn’t last long but it was unmistakable. It occurred to Sonny that Rafael had mellowed towards him again recently. Maybe he’d planned to make a move again, or maybe Sonny was reading into something that wasn’t there. But that look of jealousy was there and he couldn’t ignore it.

He decided he needed to know. He went to Rafael’s apartment later that evening and confronted him about it. Rafael denied it of course, heaven forbid he admit to having feelings of any sort. But Sonny persisted, he was like a dog with a bone as Rafael pointed out. Finally, Rafael cracked, he admitted he had feelings for Sonny and the thought of him with someone else was driving him crazy but he knew he’d missed his shot now. Even though that was what Sonny had gone over to find out it still shocked him into silence. He wanted to kiss Rafael, he had to hold himself back. At that moment the only thing he wanted in the world was to kiss Rafael and drag him to the bedroom. Then he remembered Isabella, the woman he was in a relationship with, and he left without saying a word.

That was yesterday. He hadn’t spoken to Rafael since. He’d only spoken to Isabella though text, she was out with friends today so unable to see him, which was for the best considering.

He needed to make a decision tonight as he would see her tomorrow. It was the kind of decision he didn’t want to have to make. Would he lie, never mention this again, avoid Barba and let the relationship with Isabella unfold naturally? No, Sonny didn’t believe in lying in a relationship, he’d seen enough relationships fall apart as lie after lie built up. So, he’d have to tell her, tell her he still had feelings for his ex. But what next? Would he fight for the relationship, assure her he would never cheat on her and hope she could see past it? Or use this to end it? End a relationship that could very easily end up in everything he’d ever wanted, someone who loved and supported him, marriage, kids, the whole shebang. Or end it and take a risk on someone emotionally closed off who might grow bored of him in a few months? Content for the rest of his life or excitement for a small part of it.

After thinking about all his options Sonny realised one simple thing. Isabella deserved better. Sonny’s thoughts on the future were irrelevant. Isabella deserved someone who was one hundred percent committed to her, who would never find themselves at someone else’s apartment seconds away from starting an affair.

So that was that. Tomorrow Sonny would tell Isabella the truth, break up the relationship as gently as he could and hope she wouldn’t hate him for it. As for Rafael, he’d have to wait, Sonny wasn’t going to break up with one person and jump straight into bed with another. He’d wait, perhaps until the guilt had passed, then see if Rafael was still interested. Hopefully it’d lead to more than a few months of excitement, but it was a chance Sonny was willing to take.

[coruscato]

;; FANTASY V. [ EDMUND ]

TAGGED: ; i’ve read stories like this. they weren’t very good ; edmund ; fantasy v.

NAME: Edmund Charles Henry of the House of Whitney, Crown Prince of Illuxia TITLE: His Royal Highness Prince Edmund Charles Henry, Duke of Caito  AGE: 32 BIRTHDAY: December 18th ZODIAC SIGN: Sagittarius/Capricorn Cusp ORIENTATION: Bisexual, leans towards men GENDER: Non-binary, leaning towards masculine PRONOUNS: he/him HEIGHT: 5′8″ MBTI TYPE: ENTJ -- The Commander PERSONALITY --

Stubborn to a great fault, it’d be easier to physically push a brick wall down than get Edmund to move when he doesn’t want to. While he can be flexible, at times, if he gets his mind set on something—my god, he will accomplish that something at whatever cost to him, unless somehow forced not to.

Reliable despite his impulsive and apathetic nature, you can trust that if he commits to a responsibility, he will be there, and he will see it through to the end, whatever that end may be. Though outwardly standoffish, he does truly care about those he associates with and will stand by them steadfastly more in his actions rather than his words. With his heart sown soundly onto his sleeve and a strong sense of justice, he’s never particularly been one to look the other way.

Cool and calculated, the Prince’s cards are always close to his chest. Those who make politics a career learn quickly not to rely on those around themselves quite quickly--even from a young age. Terrible thing, isn’t it? But, it can’t be helped--the Prince will keep marching on unphased and unaffected. He has a country to lead, petty emotions could be dealt with when he had the time--if he ever did, that is.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE --

With a hard expression always perched on his face, he doesn’t necessarily seem friendly at first glance—and most people would be right at first glance. Dressed to the hilt in the day’s current fashion, he reeks of money in the worst way. Deep royal blues or velvet reds hang around him, gold, or even silver, outlining his figure depending on how extravagant he’s feeling that day--one will always know when the Prince’s arrived.

The air around him is haughty as if there’s something more to the situation that only he knows. There’s always been something about his aura that can put the most laid back person on edge. With a cool, calculated gaze it seems as though everything he’s done, or will do, has been planned with pinpoint accuracy.

Untouched by strife, the Prince has a remarkably smooth complexion save a few wrinkles here and there. Despite the apparent life of luxury, his hands are more coarse than one would expect from a member of the aristocracy; a rambunctious childhood in Lionsclaw must be to blame for any scrapes and rough edges the Prince has brought along with him, and maybe his sparring practices don’t help either, but a man must stay fit and able, yes?

HISTORY --

Born to King Gregory Joseph Whitney and the Queen-consort Jacqueline Claire Whitney, and the first son of two ( George Lewis Whitney ), Edmund was destined for great things before he even had a chance to take his first breath. Spending his summers in the capital city of Bastion and the rest of his childhood in Lionsclaw, the boy made the best of both climates--learning etiquette and the blade simultaneously. A well rounded, educated individual always made for the best aristocrat, did they not? His parents certainly believed so. While his brother spent more time taking in the Town of Lionsclaw, Edmund was sat in front of books: to read, to write, and, of course, to learn.

[cinnamonbuneliza]

Waking Up In Vegas

Write-A-Thon Day One: AU day (waking up in vegas au) John Laurens x Alexander Hamilton Words: 1540

i’m so excited for this week guys and i hope you are too!

originally, my disneyland fic that i posted the other day was going to be my au day fic, but i changed my mind last minute so here we have the waking up in vegas au! 

i’m kind of tempted to make this into a series, but i’m not sure yet so let me know what you think. 

the write a thon is going to be awesome. you can join in if you want! i just reblogged the prompt lists. 

requests are open and i hope you’re all doing great xx

see you tomorrow for femaslash! day

~

The pounding hit him like a tonne of bricks.

With every tiny movement, he felt the pain intensify. He let out soft whimpers until he decided that the floor was where he would stay.

His freckly cheeks rested against the cool, damp tiles. John figured he must’ve passed out in the bathroom while trying to go to the toilet. And it seemed reasonable, because he’d woken up in weirder places after crazy nights out.

He opened his eyes slowly and let the light appear in his morning. He ignored his better judgements and sat up slowly, resting his head against the wall. He tried his best to ignore the pounding in his head as he took in his surroundings.

It seemed John had been right about the bathroom, but this wasn’t his bathroom. He couldn’t remember anything from the previous night… he wasn’t even sure if he was in South Carolina anymore, or who he was with.

He flipped through fragmented memories of the previous night. For moments, he saw his friend Hercules, and he had reason to believe that he had stayed the night at his house. But Hercules’ bathroom was warm and his house was comforting… this whole situation felt like some kind of unholy nightmare.

The weight on his finger was the thing that woke John up fully. The only jewellery he would keep on him was his mother’s necklace…

His hands flew to his neck and he let out a sigh of relief when he felt the secured clasp of the familiar metal. He relaxed, licking his dry lips.

He was still under his mother’s watch… that meant he was safe… but so many questions remained unanswered. Where was he? What was he doing here? What was the strange ring around his finger?

The door next to John swung open, revealing a shirtless man that looked a mess. Dark circles under his eyes hollowed out his face, making it look incredibly pale. He stumbled towards the sink, turning tap on and splashing his face with the warm water.

John stayed silent. Strangers had never been his friends… so coming face to face to this one in a strange place was not the way he wanted to spend his Saturday. Or at least, what he thought was Saturday. He wasn’t sure of anything right now.

He took a deep breath before deciding breaking the silence was the best thing to do in the situation. “Who are you?”

The man at the sink jumped, grabbing the closest thing to him (which happened to be a bar of soap), and pointing it at John. The soap slid out of his hands, landing at John’s feet. He felt around behind him, grabbing a toothbrush and holding it out in front of him.

“W-Who are you?” He replied, a red blush spreading over his cheeks.

John stood up slowly. “I asked first, so you should answer me first. I’ll ask again, who are you?” He asked, leaning heavily against the wall.

“My name is Alexander. Alexander Hamilton. I don’t know why I’m here. Your turn,” The man, Alexander, replied.

“Do you mind if I call you Alex?”

His question was returned with a glare, which John simply shrugged off.

“Well, my name’s John Laurens. And I remember leaving the house with my friend… but that’s the end of it. I don’t even know where we are now,” John stated, walking to the sink and checking his face in the mirror. He too carried a sleepless appearance, prominent bags staring back at him through the mirror’s reflection.

“Vegas. We’re in Vegas,” Alex stated, turning from the mirror and heading back out to the bedroom area. John raised his eyebrow, following.

“You mean like, casinos, strippers and creepy people in character costumes Vegas?” John replied, sitting on the edge of the bed where Alex had laid down on.

“No, I mean the Vegas where everything is rainbows and we’re all friends. Peace on earth, kumbaya!” he snapped, continuing to glare at John. “Could you just shut up for a few seconds? I’ve got a terrible headache.”

“So do I. We can complain about it together,” John stated, lying on the opposite side of the bed and staring at Alex. “What are your theories on last night’s happenings? I feel like my friend Hercules thought it would be funny if he set this whole thing up for me… I am surprised he didn’t find a girl though. Man, I would shit myself if I woke up next to a female.”

“I’m assuming you’re gay then,” Alex stated, picking up the room service menu on the bedside table and squinting at it as he flicked through it.

“Well, yes. I mean, I have experimented a little throughout my life, but I’m as gay as they come,” John stated, smiling proudly.

“Congratulations. I’m bisexual, but I have a girlfriend so don’t get any ideas,” Alex replied, putting the menu down and looking at John. “Personally, I think this is some kind of weird, reality TV social experiment. Or it’s a very strange dream. I hope it’s the second one. I’d like to wake up in bed next to Eliza… instead of being in this strange one.”

John scoffed. “At least you had a bed. I slept on the bathroom floor… or passed out there. I’m not completely sure honestly. All I know is that my neck hurts like a bi-“

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up before?” Alex asked, starting to go through the drawers in the bedside table.

“Well, you did continue the conversation so I had assumed-“

“You said your name was John Laurens, right? John “Jack” Laurens?” Alexander interrupted, looking at a piece of paper he had found in horror.

“That’s me,” John replied, sitting up and turning on the TV. “Why do you ask?”

Alexander gulped. Maybe if he didn’t tell anyone, it wouldn’t be real. “N-No reason. We should focus on finding a way out of here, don’t you think? Do you have any money?”

John patted down his pants, shaking his head. “While I’m as gay as they come, I’m also as broke as they come. I haven’t made a solid income in a very long time.”

“Productive. And I don’t have my wallet either, which means we’re pretty much screwed. You said you had a friend, right? Do you have a phone? Can we call them? Maybe they can-“

“Look, Hercules isn’t the best at dealing with hangovers. He mostly just sleeps them off. So, if he drank as much as I did, we’d find he’s pretty much useless to us now. Didn’t you say something about a girlfriend?”

Alex’s eyes widened. “Of course! Eliza will help! But I am without a phone currently so unless you have yours…”

John sighed, taking his phone out of his pocket and passing it to him. “Here. Be as brief as possible. I don’t want an expensive phone bill,” He stated. Alexander nodded, dialling Eliza’s number.

It took three rings before she picked up. Alexander could hear her yawn, and he imagined he had woken her up.

“Hello?” She mumbled, yawning after she finished her sentence.

“Eliza! Thank the heavens. Listen, I’ve just woken up in Las Vegas with this other guy and I have no idea how I got here. My wallet and phone have disappeared, so all I have is you. All my hope is rested on you. Could you please come and pick me up? Or buy flight tickets or something. I promise to pay you back as soon as my card is returned,” Alex rambled, tapping his fingers against the bedside table anxiously.

“If I do any of those things, will you be quiet for just a second? This is a lot to take in first thing in the morning,” Eliza mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes. “Who’s this other guy? Do you know him? Does he know you? Did you have some weird kinky sex?”

“What? Of course not. All I know is I’ve gotten myself into the worst situation possible. I’ll explain what I can when I return home. I love you more than words can say,” Alexander said, biting his lip. Had he had sex with this strange man he seemed to have accidentally married?

“I love you too Alexander. Stay strong, my love.”

The line went dead, and Alexander was left alone with the silence between him and John who was now standing by the window.

“The sky looks nice today. The clouds are round… and they look like cotton candy. It’s pure, don’t you think?”

An eyebrow was raised. Alexander went to John, standing next to him and staring out the window. Indeed, the clouds did look nice. Alexander’s eyes moved to John’s ring finger, staring at the golden ring that wrapped around his finger tightly.

They moved back to Alexander’s own hand and he gulped, seeing a similar ring on his own finger. He knew he had screwed up, but surely this man who daydreams about clouds wouldn’t notice. Surely, he would keep daydreaming.

Alexander decided it was best to dream the terrible situation away. Perhaps once he was home, this would all fade away and be nothing but a bad memory.