#queer women just nervously stare at each other for a while

[tootiredmotel]

a different lover is not a sin

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

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

Read on ao3 or below / 5.5k words

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

1 - 1994

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

2 - 2000

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transexuals, ALL WELCOME

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

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

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

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

“Hey man, wait.”

The guy stopped walking.

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

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

“What’s bisexual?”

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

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

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

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

Or maybe he was right.

But he couldn’t be.

Dean couldn’t be… that.

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

---

3 - 2004

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He left Indianapolis the next day.

---

4 - 2008

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

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

“You what ?” he gawked.

Sam shrugged innocently. “What?”

“You went to one of these Pride things?”

“Yeah, dude.”

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

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

“She was in the what?”

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

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

“Green.”

“What?”

“Light’s green. Green means go.”

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

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

He channeled his jealousy into gripping the steering wheel.

“You okay, Dean?”

“Yeah.” No. “Yeah, m’fine.”

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

---

5 - 2014

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

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

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

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

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

“Pride.”

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

“You good?”

“Yeah, what was that?”

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

“Why uh… Why? Why me?”

She knows.

“I dunno.”

She knows she knows she knows.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

And she hung up.

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

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

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

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

It still got his heart split in two.

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

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

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

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

---

+1 - 2021

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

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

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

Dean is bi. And everyone knows now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The parade? No, not really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

They fit right in.

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

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

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

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

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

He’s proud to be here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s up?”

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

“Look around, Dean.”

“What for?”

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

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

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

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

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

He has it now too. He can be himself.

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

“Dean, I am so proud of you.”

And then he cries.

---

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

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

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

“What?”

“That’s the bisexual flag.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Cas?”

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

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

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

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

[tlcwrites]

Two Hearts Make a Whole

Prompt: “Kiss me again, like you mean it.” Photo prompt below.

Summary: NYC Pride is for celebration, and occasionally, long-overdue revelations.

Word Count: 2,001

Tags/Content warnings: Marvel. Stucky. If you have a problem with it, there's the door. SFW. Slight TFATWS spoilers so read at your own risk. Platonic Reader. Two idiots in love. Technically canon-divergent because I'm still in my everyone-is-alive-and-in-this-timeline happy place that I will never ever leave fuck you very much Russo brothers but not AU. Found family. All the feels. Complete and total LGBTQ+ support. Lots of bad language words because #me. Un-beta'd.

Author’s Note: Okay so yes this is technically 4 weeks late for @autumnleaves1991-blog's Writer Wednesday weekly challenge. BUT, it was incredibly important to me to finish this one before Pride month is over. Made it by the skin of my teeth.

Happy Pride, y’all. If you’re out, you’re amazing. If you’re closeted, you’re amazing. However you identify is valid and important. Trans folx are LGBTQ+. Bisexuals are LGBTQ+. Ace folx are LGBTQ+. Anyone who identifies or thinks they may be as queer is LGBTQ+. All are welcome in the family. You have the right to choose your pronouns and we have the responsibility to use them. Live whatever your truth looks like to you and love each other. Love is love is love is love. If your family doesn’t accept you for you, I’m your mom now and I’ve got mom hugs available on demand. Homophobes and TERFS can fuck off and roll in poison ivy. Always punch Nazis. Pride shouldn't be limited to the month of June. And don’t you dare forget that Black and Brown trans women were the ones who rioted at Stonewall, and we owe everything to their bravery. Don’t forget that much of popular ‘gay’ culture was appropriated from Black women. And for more facts about Pride that you should absolutely know, Rawiyah Tariq (@ mammyisdead on Instagram) has a phenomenally good overview.

“Oh my god.” You gasp loudly. "Oh my GOD. Is that-"

“What?!” Instantly in First Avenger Protective Mode™️, Steve surveys the crowd, wishing he had an actual shield instead of the screen printed one on his shirt. “What is it?”

You gasp again, smacking Sam’s arm repeatedly. “OHMYGOD IT IS HOLY FUCK.”

“First; ow.” Now-Cap rubs his bicep. “Second; clue in the class before Steve has an aneurysm, please.”

Vibrating with excitement doesn’t begin to describe your current state. “HER ROYAL HIGHNESS MISS LEMON MERINGUE IS STANDING RIGHT FUCKING THERE.”

With the finesse of a shampoo commercial, Bucky's dark locks fly as he whips around. “What?!”

“RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE.” You abandon a relieved Sam and latch on to Bucky’s vibranium arm. “Oh my GOD I love her so fucking much.”

“She was robbed, absolutely fucking robbed,” he agrees, craning his neck to get a better view. “Divine Tension’s lip sync was shameful.”

Sam glances at Steve, who is slowly coming out of protector mode. “What the ever-loving hell are they talking about?”

“RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Nat flicks more confetti at both Cap-the-former and Cap-the-current. “They watch it every week.”

“Really, Steven, for a guy with enhanced super senses, you miss a lot.” Tony hefts a bedazzled Morgan higher on his back. The toddler, accompanied by Scott playing air-piano on the ground, sings along with the ABBA song being blasted at full volume through the street. Tony continues as if this is an everyday occurrence. “Why do you think both of your People disappear every Friday evening?”

Ears pink, Steve mumbles something.

“What?!” The only other one with hearing enhanced enough to hear a murmur over the cacophony of several thousand people belting out the chorus of ‘Dancing Queen’ at the top of their lungs, Bucky turns to stare at his friend. “You thought we were datin’?”

Steve’s blush extends down his neck.

You and Bucky stare at each other for a moment before you both collapse on each other, exploding into stomach clenching, thigh slapping laughter.

“I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no’?” Clint confirms with Nat.

“Oh, a big ‘no’.” She watches affectionately as you and Bucky calm down enough to look at each other, breathe for a second, and both promptly dissolve into hysterics once more. “Like, the biggest ‘no’.”

Sam crossed his arms across his chest, his stoic stance so reminiscent of Steve it’s amusing (as well as a beautiful disparity to the sequined crop top he’s sporting. Oof, those abs.). “How do I not know about this?”

“Because you’re not a former super spy?” The usually-Black-but-today-Rainbow Widow tosses the last of her confetti at Tony, who spins a jubilant Morgan into it. “Or because you and that leggy barista from the lobby coffee shop are too busy playing hide-the-“

“-Baby Shark!” Morgan suddenly shrieks, flailing towards a guy on roller blades wearing a fin and tail (and not much else).

“Yeah,” Nat finishes with a smirk, “Hide-the-Baby Shark.”

Sam flips her a gesture that makes Clint laugh and Bruce sigh.

You and Bucky have finally managed to pull yourselves together. “Oh my god, Steven Grant,” you gasp, wiping tears from your eyes. “That’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve ever fucking heard.”

“Language!”

Steve glares at Tony. “One. Time. It was one. Time.”

Bucky slings his flesh arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Oh, punk. You may have perfect vision now, but sometimes you’re still as blind as you were before.”

Visiortn himself nods sagely. “Humans can be quite unperceptive when it comes to matters of the heart.” Vision casts a fond smile at Wanda, who is using her powers to make Pietro’s tinsel wig fly on and off. “Sometimes you have to look harder to see what’s right in front of your nose.”

A confused frown on that handsome face, Captain Clueless looks at Bucky. “Why do I feel like everyone else knows something that I don’t?”

His bestie sighs deeply. “Because, Stevie, almost everyone else on this planet knows that my tastes tend towards tall, blonde, blue-eyed knuckleheads who have zero sense of self-preservation.”

“And an ass you could bounce a quarter off of,” Scott helpfully supplies.

“And that,” Bucky agrees.

Steve frowns.

You press your palms to your eyes in vexation. “You, Steve. He’s talking about you.” (Seriously, how has this idiot survived for over a century while being so dumb?)

Whatever he was expecting, it was certainly not that. “He-“ The Man With A Plan gapes as he turns to his oldest friend. “You-“

“Me,” Bucky says gently.

Even though you’re slightly surprised that Bucky is going to do this in such a public forum, you can’t help but be so proud of your friend. It has taken a long time for Bucky to believe he deserves to be happy. There are days he still sinks into that dark place, where his inner demons whisper that he should have fought harder against his Hydra captors, and that his past actions were still somehow his fault. Those are the days no amount of baking or Modern Marvels will bring him out of his funk. You, Steve, Sam, and Nat have all held those strong shoulders as they shook with sobs, overwhelmed by the shame and horror at what his hands had done without his consent.

But he’s here. He’s free. And he’s smiling nervously at his best friend.

“I-” Steve is short-circuiting. “Me?!”

“Stevie.” With the kind of tender patience that can only be born of a lifetime of keeping (or attempting to keep) an idiot such as one Steven Grant Rogers from flinging himself headlong into every fight he comes across, Bucky moves his flesh hand to the back of Steve’s neck. His face is full of such soft affection that you almost want to look away for fear of intruding on this suddenly intimate moment. “What do you think ‘til the end of the line’ means, you idiot? You’ve been it for me since I was thirteen-years-old.”

Blue eyes are locked with blue eyes as Steve processes this revelation. “I-” He shakes his head as if to declutter his thoughts. “This whole time?”

“Since the first time I saw that asshole knock you down, and your scrawny ass climbed right back up.” A wry chuckle escapes as Bucky reminices. “You were ninety pounds soaking wet, and you stood there, against a guy who was three times your size, and never waivered for a second. It was magnificent.”

“I don’t like bullies,” is Steve’s quiet response.

Bucky’s grin is adoring. “I know, sweetheart.” He gently strokes the back of Steve’s neck with his thumb. “You’ve always had a heart way bigger than your brain.”

Steve is still back on the first part of Bucky’s admission. “If you’ve felt- if you-” He’s practically pleading. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

Bucky shrugs, attempting and failing nonchalance. “It was a different time, you know?” He’s uncharacteristically unsure of himself, the subtle waiver in his voice revealing the anxiety born of a lifetime of being forced to hide his truth. “I mean, you remember how it was; you didn’t talk about, no one talked about- about being- about people like...” He swallows thickly.  “And I was so scared you didn’t, that you weren’t-” His voice breaks.

Even though you’ve all been emotionally invested in this love story for years, the entire team respectfully pretends not to listen as the former Winter Soldier quietly admits his deepest secret to his closest friend. It’s enraging as Bucky confesses yet another way he's been a victim of his circumstances, and denied his right to live freely without derision. Once more, you’re awed by his resilience.

“-it was a risk I couldn’t take,” Bucky finally gets out, that stubborn fire back in his eyes. “I couldn’t lose you, Steve. I couldn’t chance it. I could live with just being your friend and only your friend so long it meant you were in my life.”

Stunned silence meets the end of his confession. Steve’s face is impassive, those cerulean eyes uncharacteristically inscrutable.

You can all tell Bucky is heading steadily towards dread and heartbreak the longer Steve takes to respond. You and Sam exchange a look, both ready to intervene if Steve demonstrates any of the abhorrent attitudes that were so prevalent in the society of his youth. It would be completely out of character for him, but...

Finally, Steve speaks. “You’re telling me,” he says, his words slow and deliberate, “that you made me wait ninety-three years to tell me you’ve felt the same way about me as I have about you since the day you picked me up out of that alley?!”

The whole found family breaths a collective sigh of relief as Steve pulls Bucky even closer, broad chest to broad chest.

“Okay, to be fair, you were an ice cube for most of that time and I wasn’t exactly available for a relationship.” Bucky’s grin stands in contradiction to his mullish defense. “But yeah, that’s the gist of it.” There’s the Bucky you all know and love, biting his lip with those perfect white teeth. “Now, punk, I’d really like to kiss you now, but first I need you to say you want me to.”

“You-” Steve’s throat works as he attempts- and fails- to rein in his emotions. “You jerk.”

And then the Star Spangled Man seizes the president of the Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club by his ridiculously perfect face and crashes their mouths together.

At any Pride event, seeing two men kissing is, obviously, to be expected. But seeing The First Avenger and The White Wolf attempting to swallow each other’s tongues is not at all routine. As people realize what is happening, the crowd is whipped into a frenzy the likes of which is usually reserved for the aftermath of sporting events and elections that defeat fascists.

Watching the two men embrace, Scott sniffles loudly. “I’m gonna cry, I’m so happy.”

He’s certainly not the only one. Wanda has a watery smile as she wraps her arms around Vision and Pietro; Pepper, Tony, and Bruce are watching with fond parental energy; you and Sam sandwich Peter between the two of you, grins practically splitting your faces. Even Nat’s eyes look suspiciously shiny and she and Clint sling their arms around each other with platonic affection. And that’s not counting the several thousand people who are cheering for love being love being love being love.

When they finally break their embrace, the Centennial twins are startled to see they’ve collected quite an audience.

“Uh, so…” Suddenly bashful, Steve glances back to his- partner? Boyfriend? Soulmate? Is there a word that can accurately describe two people who have found each other time and again in a world that seems hell-bent on keeping them apart?- his ears practically maroon with embarrassment. For a guy with one of the most-recognized faces in the world, Steve is still incredibly and endearingly uncomfortable with attention. “Buck?”

Bucky seems just as stunned as Steve.

Thankfully, the masses demonstrate the usual support that’s the hallmark of Pride. “LOVE IS LOVE!” someone screams in the crowd. It’s quickly echoed, and chants fill the park.

The attention momentarily off them, the former Winter Soldier and his giant himbo of a soulmate look back at each other. You pretend not to watch through the happiest tears as they embrace again, bringing their foreheads together. The relief they share is palpable, as they’re finally able to show the world- and each other- the love they’ve each hidden for so long.

Bucky’s voice is so soft you have to strain to hear it. “You have no idea how much m’in love with you, Stevie.”

“Pretty sure I do,” Steve answers, bringing a hand up to carefully wipe the tears from Bucky’s face. “‘cause it’s as much as I love you, Buck.”

Bucky's answering grin can only be described as saucy. “Then kiss me again, like you mean it.”

And Steve, for once in his long life, does exactly as ordered.

---

A/N: “The Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club” is from Starry_Emerald173’s BRILLIANT The Avengers Wrangler over on AO3. If you haven’t read it yet, drop what you’re doing and do so immediately. Make sure you're not drinking any liquids, or your keyboard/phone may be in peril.

[tendercoretroglodyke]

... I’m interested in legitimately gay Reese (I assume one piece of evidence is “look at what they’re doing and tell me you’re not gay”)

okay this is like 2 days late but this is why reese malcolminthemiddle is legitimately gay:

(side note: did anyone need a queer media thesis paper or something... I am willing to share lmao)

so none of this is like... rock solid evidence or anything but I need to believe at least one main character of a show is gay and/or trans to maintain interest and reese is the most plausible gay character. also it’s early 2000′s so he just gets a lot of vaguely homophobic jokes lmao

first of all, yes, the biggest piece of evidence he’s gay is those lines from that episode I quoted the other day--thinking malcolm is gay, he tries to show his support by giving him a gay porno: “’Naught Pool Boys 3!’ I watched 10 or 12 of these, and this one seems to have the most stuff you guys like.” and when malcolm says he isn’t gay, reese responds “Malcolm. Check out what those guys are doing in that movie, and THEN tell me you’re not gay.”-- so, 1) reese sat down and watched like a dozen gay porn movies to ““find a good one for his gay brother”” and 2) he thinks malcolm would reconsider his heterosexuality if he watched what was in that movie, implying that HE reconsidered his sexuality after watching that movie, or at the very least found it hot

in the same episode, the character tricking malcolm into thinking reese is gay lists the following as evidence: he obsesses over his hair and his looks, loves his gourmet cooking, has a bunch of magazines covered in comically muscular men, and that he’s angry and acts like a jerk because he’s “dealing with something weird and confusing.” now obviously, the obsession with hair/looks can be chalked up to the fact that he’s a teenage boy, and there’s nothing inherently gay about enjoying cooking. the dozen magazines of muscle-bound men could certainly be taken as gay evidence, though, and it IS established in the show that his entire bully persona is his way of masking his inner feelings and insecurities. there’s literally a whole episode where he & malcolm realize they have no friends because they act like little shits to push people away because they’re afraid of rejection and/or abandonment from their peers. they ostracize themselves before they can be ostracized by the other students at school. I could probably write a whole other essay on reese’s psyche tbqh lmao there’s a shocking amount there!!

of the brothers who are actually old enough to be attracted to girls (reese, malcolm, and francis), he shows the least interest. now bear with me here. you might be thinking, “well, yeah, it’s malcolm’s show, we’re not gonna see things from other people’s perspective!” but that is actually surprisingly untrue, the show is very much equally shown from each family members’ perspectives. starting about s2, when malcolm is in early middle school, he starts getting crushes on girls and pursuing them. francis goes after a few women in the first couple seasons and then marries a woman we see a lot throughout the show. 

in the roughly... 130?? episodes I have watched so far, nearly all of reese’s “interest” in girls involve either: competition with malcolm, genuinely just liking her as a friend, or some completely ulterior motive. the only exception to this I can think of is in the early seasons where he has a crush on a cheerleader and tries to get on her good side by joining the cheerleading squad, which the writers clearly set up as a way to make gay jokes about reese. let me give you a few examples of his relationships with girls

the first relationship we see him in is with a “stupid girl” that malcolm tried (and failed) to date, and the main reason they get together is that they think on the same wavelength and genuinely seem to enjoy hanging out. they take breaks from their bro chats to make out every once in a while. eventually he gets her to break up with him because he doesn’t want to go to the school dance with her (he doesn’t want to go at all). years later, he’s dating some girl we meet for like 5 minutes, before he goes to confess to her that she’s the first girl he’s ever loved. she then breaks up with him. he’s sad, but taking it fairly well. he’s about to leave when he sees malcolm hiding under the bed, and learns that he stole his girlfriend. he then runs away to join the army. he was clearly MUCH more upset that his brother stole his girlfriend than he was that his girlfriend broke up with him. there are many more instances of him and malcolm competing for a girl’s affections, and he seems mostly motivated by the competition itself.

in addition to “stupid girl,” he also manufactures an “attraction” to his female army buddy in the last season. the premise of this episode is that his old army buddy (a girl he play-wrestles with and insults like he would his own brothers) comes to visit him, and malcolm convinces reese that she’s attracted to him, and that reese’s nervousness at learning that fact is proof he’s in love with her. there’s a misunderstanding where reese asks her if she has certain “feelings” and she says she does, but what she ACTUALLY means is that she has a crush on reese’s MOM. she’s a lesbian. reese later propositions her (saying he’s saved his virginity for this--he’s probably about 18 here), and when she says omg no im gay, he is HUGELY relieved they can go back to being friends. CLASSIC mlm/wlw friendship moment. 

there’s an episode where these cute girls pick up reese (& nerds) to kiss in front of their boyfriends to make them jealous. reese is all for it, and when malcolm argues that it’s not worth his dignity and the beating he’ll get from the girl’s boyfriend, reese counters that that’s WHY he wants to do this--he’s completely invisible at school, and thinks getting beaten up for kissing some guy’s girlfriend will at least make him known around school. at no point does he indicate he’s actually attracted to this girl, and when it comes time to kiss her, he finds the weakest excuse to run away at the last minute. 

im not gonna list all of these but there’s more lmao

the following is a random assortment of one-off gay jokes and out-of-context lines with gay reese implications, often homophobically bc its early 2000′s writing:

says “I’m gay” to a girl to give malcolm a better shot at her

(again in competition with malcolm) tries to flirt with a girl by spraying milk in her face as the punchline to a joke, which is. well. hm. self-sabotaging, to say the least!!

Reese: “Do you think it’s right to totally change who you are and turn your back on EVERYTHING you believe in, just to impress a hot guy??” [his dad gives a long, blank stare, before asking:] “...Burt Reynolds hot, or Sting hot?”

“YEAH I like clouds! I call them sky kittens :)” (I just think that one’s sweet!)

“Look, Christie, here’s the thing. When I first met you, I was just messing around. But we’ve gotten so close that, now... I really like you! I can’t keep this up anymore. I’m not the person you think I am. I’ve been pretending since the day I met you. It’s so hard having to constantly cover my tracks to keep my story straight... and I don’t WANT to anymore! I’m tired of living this lie! I’m done with it. I’m sorry.”

he catfishes some guy to blackmail him, but is implied to continue the flirtation even after the catfishing/blackmail is revealed

reese is, technically, married to a man. this particular plot point is played as a joke and manages to be both racist and homophobic, so I won’t go into it. but I believe he is still married to that man. technically.

reese takes care of a huge box full of caterpillars until they pupate and become beautiful butterflies. I feel like there’s some kind of gay coming out metaphor here somewhere.

I think there are a couple other times where he comments on a guy’s attractiveness but I couldn’t find specific instances.

In conclusion: Reese is a deeply repressed gay kid who was socialized SO thoroughly as an early 2000′s straight boy that, despite his attraction for men and his obvious compulsory heterosexuality, he still cannot admit to himself that he is gay even as he enters adulthood. Furthermore, his subconscious frustration about this fact is turned outward to form the “schoolyard bully” costume he uses to mask his insecurities and keep others from getting too close to him. 

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. I could be convinced to come back for another talk about how Dewey is trans or about how each and every member of that family is neurodivergent in entirely different ways. Assuming anyone has read this far in the first place!!

[eleanorbloom]

First Date (Aurora Emery x MC)

Disclaimer: The characters of this story, except Rosalía, belong to Pixelberry.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Aurora Emery x f! MC (Rosalía Muñoz)

Warnings: Fluff, discussions of coming out, maybe some slight homophobia Rated: T

Word Count: 2.9k

Prompts: Day 7 of CFWC Female Characters Week, "Women In Love". Also, Day 14 of @choicesmonthlychallenge "Moonlight".

Summary: Aurora and Rosalía go on their first date after both confessed their feelings.

Author’s Note: This story follows the events of my first fanfic Until I Met You. This is not intended to be a series, but probably all my Aurora's fics will revolve around this premise story. Maaaaybe one day I'll do some rewrites, maybe not. Either way, I hope you enjoy this!

PS: I didn't proof read this, so forgive me the mess, probably I'll fix it later.

Taglist: @romereadingshop @starrystarrytrouble @penda-bear @queenelianar @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations @julia-highstorms

______

It was dark when Rosalía got out of bed, and beautifully quiet. Just a murmur of some cars passing by a few blocks from there, and no major movements in the apartment.

She had woken up early to leave for the hospital with Aurora, just as she used to do before starting to avoid her.

Rosalía couldn’t help but smile as she remembered the night before. Aurora confessing her feelings, reciprocating hers. Their first kiss and all the kisses that followed after. All the sweet words, the words of reaffirmation, the promises, the doubts.

Even the unknown didn’t seem so scary now that their affections were mutual.

The lights in the kitchen were on when she approached with her bag on her shoulder, ready to leave for the hospital. Aurora was there, at the counter with two travel mugs in front of her, putting a teabag in the purple one before carefully pouring boiling water on it.

Rosalía smiled, relishing in the beautiful view she had in front of her. How lucky she was for being able to do this freely now.

When Aurora noticed her staring from the corner of her eye, she glanced up and blushed instantly, “Oh, hey.”

"Good morning," Rosalía said, leaving her bag in a stool before approaching Aurora.

"Morning Rosie, I have your coffee ready," Aurora replied and pointed to the white floral mug next to the purple one.

"Thank you. Glad to be back on this routine,” she whispered, looking intently at her.

Aurora gave her a shy smile before putting the kettle back on the stove, “Yeah, me too.”

As Rosalía sensed slight nervousness in her words, she walked toward her and took her hand in hers, "Having second thoughts?"

“No. Why do you ask?”

“You seem… Nervous.”

The taller woman released a shaky breath before responding, “Well, I am, a bit."

“Why?”

"Because I…"Aurora bit her lower lip, pondering her words. This was never easy for her, but somehow it was a lot simpler with Rosalía. To open up. "Because I like you so much and I don't wanna screw it up."

“How could you screw it up? We're just starting.”

She shook her head, "It's just… I'm not used to this. It's not personal, with James it took me some time to… get accustomed to the idea of dating someone after not doing it for years. And with you is completely different because I've wanted you for so long and I have actual feelings for you so… This really feels something new to me, besides the whole 'I've never been with a girl before', it's… Scary not knowing what to do."

Rosalía gave her a sweet smile before caressing her cheek with her thumb, "Oh, gorgeous, you're not going to screw it up just because you don't know what to do or you're new to this. I bet most couples don't have a fucking idea what to do when they start, and then just figure it out with time. And in this case, we have each other to sort it out, alright?"

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s okay you feel that way, and if then you feel like I am or we are going too fast, you just have to say it, okay? You can be completely honest with me."

With a warm smile on her face, Aurora nodded and then leaned down to Rosalía and pressed her lips softly on hers, "Thank you."

Rosalia didn't take long to wrap her arms around Aurora's waist, deepening the kiss, lips caressing more eagerly.

Both sighed after a few seconds.

"We should get going,” Aurora breathed an inch away from Rosalía.

"Should we keep making out in your car?"

Aurora chuckled, “Not a bad idea.”

“Maybe in the elevator too, and the lockers…”

“Mmm, greedy much?”

“Can you blame me?”

Aurora stared at her deep in the eyes and bit her lip as she tucked a strand of hair behind Rosie’s ear “No. Would be very hypocritical of me.”

Rosalia chuckled and kissed her again, “Let's go, then."

Both residents took their mugs and bags and left the apartment still in complete silence.

As Rosalía anticipated, they kissed in the elevator, in the car, and every other red streetlight they stopped before they made it to Edenbrook. And then when she parked, they leaned to kiss again.

They were completely drunk with the new blossoming love.

“So, what are we gonna do?” Rosalía asked, parting after another breathtaking kiss, “We'll wait some time to tell the others?”

Aurora stared thoughtfully at her before answering, "Personally, "I'd like to wait for a while, maybe a couple of weeks? This is all too new to me, to you, and until yesterday I was dating someone else, so… We should talk about us first. If that's okay with you, of course. If-if you think I'm being too forward or going so fast, just tell me."

”I’d love to talk about us.” Rosalía said, “What is it?” she added as she saw Aurora fidgeting her hands and then bit her lips, nervous.

"Maybe we could go… on a date? Or not a date, just… going somewhere quiet to talk, just the two of us."

“That’s definitely a date, Emery,” she chuckled, amused with her strange denial.

Aurora smiled, "Okay, yes, a date, but… not a fancy thing, not with the paraphernalia of dressing and going to a fancy dinner, maybe going somewhere after work, if that's okay to you?"

“Yeah, I like that. We can do fancy anytime, right?”

The next two days were so challenging and stressful that none of them managed to end their shift before 10 pm, and by that time they were completely wiped out to even think about going somewhere else but their beds.

"Where are we going? Or is it a surprise?” Rosalía cheerily asked leaning against the wall in the emergency staircase, when both confirmed they could clock out on time that evening.

"No, it's not a surprise," Aurora assured, smiling at her excitement, "I was thinking about this place, Club Café that is… queer-friendly."

“Oooh, interesting.”

“I thought maybe both will feel a lot more comfortable in a space like that, free of prying eyes and more… Like… Like us, maybe it will help us to get… Used to this.”

“Oh God, Aurora Emery stuttering? You look adorable, you know that? All doe-eyed.”

“This isn’t easy for me, so don’t mock me, Rosie!” Aurora reprimanded, cheeks profusely blushed.

“This isn’t easy for me either, why do you think I’m laughing like an idiot? Why am I saying these things? I’m nervous as hell!”

Aurora shook her head, and arched an eyebrow, “So, what do you think?”

Rosalia placed her arms around her neck and kissed her before replying "I think it's perfect. You couldn't have picked a better place for our first date as members of the queer community."

"You just can't stop kissing and touching me, uh?”

Rosie kissed her again more deeply, “No, I can’t. There’s something about you... about your lips… that just… pull me, you know? And I’ve been restraining myself for so many weeks, that I don’t intend to stop anymore.”

“Oh, I think you’ll have to tell me about that.”

“Of course, anything you want. Tonight. I bet you have a lot to tell me too.”

“Indeed.”

After work, Aurora took Rosalía to the aforementioned cafe in Back Bay.

Despite the cafe being packed with lots of people, groups of friends chatting, couples talking, and live music being played, the atmosphere there was really pleasant and intimate. Perfect for a first date.

Aurora and Rosalía hadn’t had the time to feel particularly worried about being seen in public together, because they’d only been at the hospital and at the apartment the last three days, and all their affections would be private until they were ready to tell their friends, but the fact that they could show their love for each other in public felt absolutely liberating and somehow reassuring. It felt right.

While they were waiting for their orders, both took a moment to appreciate the soft piano melody a woman was playing on the other side of the room.

“I’ve never been much into jazz, but the melody is beautiful,” Aurora stated.

“What music are you into? I’ve only seen you listening to classical music.”

“Some pop, rock, instrumental. I’m not much into music actually, but when I do, it’s mostly for focusing.”

And that was just the first of many questions that night. They spent the following hours talking about them, but under a light, they never knew before. They were friends first, they had shared personal stuff, some interest in career paths, food, movies, etc, but when there is romance involved, every single detail seems suddenly more interesting and necessary to learn than before. Favorite place to have a coffee, to have a drink, best spots to go hiking. Favorite song. Favorite color. Favorite movie genre.

Anything that could involve future plans between them.

They also spend the evening talking about how everything happened, how Aurora realized she liked Rosalía, with more details than what they shared a few days ago, and Rosalía told her about how she felt about their first date with James, and how that night she realized she liked her. How much she tried to forget her and how difficult it was for her to avoid her in order to get her out of her mind and heart.

“And here we are,” Aurora stated, taking her hand over the table.

“Did you have any problem with the fact that you liked me, I mean, a girl?”

Aurora stood in silence for a moment, thinking, "Not really. It felt strange that after years of liking men, I was liking a woman now. I know I'm young, and there are people who are in their fifties that realize their sexuality isn't what they thought, but… it felt really concerning the fact that you were my friend and you wouldn't reciprocate me. That I'd do things that could probably ruin our friendship, that you'd realize I like you and you'd push me away, I don't know, that sort of things."

“Exactly what I thought when I realized I liked you.”

Both laughed.

“Is kind of weird but funny how it happened the same to both of us, right?” Aurora questioned, before taking a sip of her glass of water.

“Yeah, but I’m glad it happened this weirdly, lucky way. I was worried it would take me too much time and effort to forget you. But you got the worst part, around five months.”

“Yeah, but at least I didn’t see you dating another person under my nose.”

Rosalía closed her eyes and teasingly shook her head, as if she was trying to forget those painful moments, “At least you were dating a great guy. Like, damn, you dumped James Woods for me?”

“He is great, but you’re greater,” Aurora stated, serious, “Besides, I don’t like him as I like you.”

“Oh, and how much is that?” Rosalía asked, leaning to her, and stopping just a few inches from her nose.

“A lot,” Aurora answered and then cut the distance and brushed her lips on Rosalía’s, tasting the sweetness of the chocolate mousse she had been eating. “Mmm sweet.”

After a few moments of silence, both digging in their desserts, Rosalía glanced at her with a serious expression, “What do you think will happen to you when we tell everyone?”

“What do you mean?”

"I don't know, if you have family members that may not support you in this? Considering you always identified yourself as hetero."

“Mmm well, my parents will be surprised, that’s for sure, and maybe it will take them some time to get used to it, but they won’t kick me out of the family or anything.”

“And your Aunt?”

“Aunt Harper couldn’t care less as long as I don’t lose sight of my career.”

“Cool. Good to know you’ll have the support of your family, sort of.”

“Yeah. I know this will be a surprise for everyone, that my aunt will be very surprised but she won’t judge me. It’s just that... “ Aurora paused for a moment, considering her words, “Maybe… doing something no one expected from me is what worries me. I know it’s stupid, but I’ve been acting this way for a long time. And this is something clearly no one could’ve anticipated.”

“Aurora, it’s not stupid. It’s totally understandable that you feel worried about that, you’ve always lived with so much pressure on your shoulders, that obviously you wouldn't want to add more. ”

“Precisely, but it’s not just that. I’m also afraid that… I don’t know, something that feels so natural to us, won't be to everybody, that maybe some people won’t like it. I honestly don’t care what we might have to face but it’s a shame this won’t be as easy as it is… with straight people.”

"That's true. That's maybe the only thing I fear about this. The… hate we could receive, but I'm sure it will be minimal because we'll have our friends to support us. And as long as we're together, I think we can face anything."

Aurora watched as Rosalía slid her hand over the table and took it on her own, giving it a squeeze in agreement, “What about you?”

“Well, I think my mom will take it fine, but my dad won’t see me the same again in a long time. He’ll try to ignore it.”

“Oh.”

“He’s not a bad person, but it will be really disappointing that I won’t have the life he always dreamed for me. Marrying a good man and having children. Well, I’ve known since long ago that I will disappoint him because that never was something I was particularly interested in.”

“His loss, then.”

"Yeah, but eventually he'll align his dreams with reality, and he'll find out I am happy the way I am and doing the things I do. Well, that's what I hope."

“I hope so too. I hate the idea of you suffering because your dad doesn’t accept you.”

Aurora gave her a worried look to which Rosalía tried to reassure instantly with a wide smile, “Me too, but I’m kinda used to receiving the cold shoulder for not meeting his standards. I’m the black sheep of the family, after all. This just confirms my place even more.”

Aurora arched an eyebrow “You’re the best resident of our cohort, you have the job of your dreams, and you’re the black sheep of your family? What are your other siblings, CEO of Forbes 500?”

Rosalía cackled, amused with the irony of her life, "Nothing of the sort. Actually, I'm the most successful of the five, but the only lefty that rebelled against my dad’s desires and escaped from his authoritative wing.”

“Your father really needs to sort out his priorities.”

“Yeah, I keep thinking it’s never too late for that. Let’s hope I’m not being too optimistic.”

After a few minutes, Aurora paid the bill and both left the cafe to walk around the busy streets of Back Bay. Somewhere in the middle of rustled streets and the chill of the night, Rosalía extended her hand to intertwine her fingers between Aurora's.

Aurora simply smiled and gave it a squeeze before keeping walking until they reached Boston Public Garden.

"Wow, I don't think I remember seeing it this beautiful," Aurora sighed, taking in the view of the park when they stopped in the middle of the lagoon bridge.

The streetlights and the moon were softly reflecting in the water, and a few grouped ducks were sleeping by the lagoon bank.

“Yeah, but it certainly isn’t as beautiful as you,” Rosalía whispered, looking at her deeply in the eye.

“Flatterer.”

“Just stating facts.”

Aurora chuckled, and when she realized Rosalía was serious, her brows furrowed in concern, "What is it?"

“Is it too soon to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

Her eyes widened in amazement and despite trying to articulate a response, nothing could get out of her mouth.

"I know it's our first date and we said we would take things slow but…"

Somehow, seeing Rosalía nervous and blushing gave her the strength to speak, but maybe not in the way she used to do it, “You’ve been clinging to me like a limpet since we first kissed, I don’t know how much different from being a girlfriend you’ve been behaving..”

Rosalía arched a brow, baffled by her reaction “Oh I’m sorry Miss-I-Hate-Kisses, I won’t disturb you ever again.”

“Oh, so you’re the only one that can tease when the other is nervous?"

“You called me clingy while I was asking you something serious.”

"I did. But that doesn't mean I don't like you clingy. In fact, I love that you're clingy. Maybe I like you even more because you're clingy."

Rosalía's eyes illuminated as Aurora placed her hands on her hips, pulling her closer to her body.

“What I meant to say is… it’s not too soon. Whatever doubts I could have before, now I have none, so… I’d love to be your girlfriend, Rosie.”

"Oh," it's the only thing Rosalía could say. For the first time in ages, Rosalía didn't know what to say.

“Do you wanna be mine?” Aurora asked, completely touched by her sudden speechlessness.

“I am already yours, but yes, I do. I wanna be your girlfriend, Aurora Emery.”

[luminescentauthor]

Sora/Tobi Getting Together and Relationship Headcanons

THEY’RE HEEEEEERREEEE! Maybe Tobi will finally leave me alone now and stop taking up my whole brain.

Please read this post or this won’t make sense, it’s HCs about their third year. There’s also a part two that you don’t need to read, since everything you need is in part one. (U can if u want to tho.)

(If you don’t want to, basically all you need to know is: Nao, Sora, Tobi, and Mokichi are on first-name basis since the end of second year; Sora and Tobi have had a running prank war since the end of their first year and everyone on the team hates them because of it; Sora is captain, Mokichi is vice. Oh also Tobi’s aunt is awesome and she stormed into his parents’ house in Hiroshima to yell at them for being terrible parents. Tobi didn’t find out for the longest time.)

This is some 10-ass pages so headcanons below the cut!

This. Is. So much more chaotic than my Sora/Nao HCs. Prepare for disaster gays, very tired and very exasperated queer parent friend Momoharu, very very tired Mokichi, "usually a functional bi but the second you involve emotions he becomes a grade-a disaster bisexual" Tobi, Sora struggling to deal with "OH shit I'm gay," and "bows to absolutely no one and done with everyone and everything 24/7" Nanao Nao. This version of Nao is so much more of a tired badass than Sora/Nao's Nao, who stays more true to her canon self. 

It's also twice as long. Yeet.

Tobi and Sora have had growing feelings since their first year and Mokichi and Nao are fucking suffering with these stupid gays.

They were friends at first, and it really was just pure platonic feelings. It started to turn into something more a little after the first Taiei game, but Sora is shy and a certified disaster and Tobi is way too emotionally constipated for either of them to do anything about it.

Tobi I love you but you're a fucking mess.

Tobi actually got kicked out by his "father" in large part for being bisexual, and therefore wants absolutely nothing to do with growing feelings for tiny cute short teammate, nope nope no thank you-

But basically, Tobi has known he's bi for a while now, and while he's having some acceptance problems, he's not having the "OH GOD I'M GAY" panic

Sora has not known, and he's having a panic in the background because "I'm attracted to guys?!"

Sora starts realizing what's going on some time in second year, and Momoharu takes one look at the panicking Sora and goes "aight the fuck happened to you?"

You will have to pry their friendship from my cold dead hands and I'm not sorry. I love Momoharu and Sora's dynamic. 

Sora eventually confesses to Momoharu (after a lot of prodding) that he thinks he's turning gay, and Momoharu immediately starts laughing. Sora, hurt and feeling very stupid, goes to run, but Momoharu tugs him back down to sit and tells him, "Jesus, Sora, you don't turn gay. You either identify as gay or you don't. Sorry for scaring you, the concept of turning gay is just... oddly funny. Don't worry about it dude, I'm pansexual."

"...Pansexual?" Sora asks nervously.

"Yup, I'm attracted to all people regardless of gender. Men, women, people who don't fit either -- I don't much care. Gender doesn't really factor into whether or not I'm attracted to people."

"You can be attracted to multiple genders?" Sora asks, eyes wide.

Oh boy, Momoharu thinks. Poor kid. "Yeah, folks who are attracted to just men and women are called bisexual. Homosexual is the official word for those who are only attracted to their own gender, but gay or lesbian is usually used. Heterosexual is for those only attracted to the opposite gender. Of course, the lines aren't as clear set as those labels suggest they are. Sexuality is fucky, dude. Don't worry about not having it figured out. I only decided on a label a few months back, myself. Some people just choose not to label it at all."

That makes Sora feel better, and he takes to talking to Momoharu about it quite a bit.

At one point, Sora brings up how the team would react, especially since they share a locker room. Momoharu just gives him a deadpan look and then says in the flattest voice ever, "Wow, imagine being so insecure in your masculinity that you can't share a changing room with a gay man." That gets a laugh out of Sora and makes him feel a lot better.

As it turns out, this was word for word Chiaki's reaction to Momoharu being nervous about coming out to the team back in their first year.

It is also, word for word, Chiaki's response to Sora coming out to him going "I'm sorry I hope this doesn't make things awkward-"

Momoharu laughs hysterically when Chiaki pulls the exact same face he did and says in the exact same deadpan tone, "Wow, imagine being so insecure in your masculinity that you can't share a changing room with a gay man." Sora also stares at Chiaki for about ten seconds in silence, then doubles over laughing. Chiaki is so confused until Momoharu explains. 

However, this does mean that Momoharu has to deal with the brunt of Sora's "TOBI DID A THING HOLY SHIT" rants for the rest of the year, even though he denies that Tobi is the one he was attracted to if ever asked.

Momoharu, rubbing his forehead: Chiaki the baby gays are being stupid what do I do

Chiaki: I'm a straight so unfortunately I don't think I can help here?

Momoharu: Ugggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Tobi is freaking out in the background because "oh no gay feelins oh no soft feelins fuck what do I do????"

His aunt: Kid, please calm down, you'll be fine.

Tobi, putting a groove in the floor with his pacing: NO I WON'T WHA' IF 'E FINDS OUT WHAT IF THIS RUINS THA TEAM DYNAMIC WHAT IF 'E 'ATES ME-

Accent go yeet when upset!

She holds him while he panics and lets him curl into her, and then makes his favorite foods and puts on a movie and cuddles with him, and once he's asleep, she calls her brother-in-law with every intent of murder because how dare you make this child feel so unloved?

Anyway, Tobi eventually comes to accept himself and his sexuality in full thanks to her, the team, and Juri. It's primarily just a thing of time and needing to have more conversations where he's open about it and accepted by people he cares about. 

Poor Sora still isn't totally comfortable with being gay? And a month or so into his third year, he comes out to Nao and later Mokichi. They make him feel much better, but the final piece is actually Tobi himself. Tobi finds Sora having a breakdown in the locker rooms and holds him to help him calm down and pushes him to talk about it, and Sora finally tells Tobi he's queer.

And Tobi, having been through this struggle before, just kind of pulls him into a hug and says, "Well, tha' makes two o' us" and Sora goes "wHAT" and Tobi tells him he's bisexual. Tobi does not pry about who made Sora realize he's queer, because it's personal and touchy, and he respects that.

That does, however, extend the mutual bullshit period.

But also: 

Sora: oH MY GOD HE'S GAY HE'S GAY HE'S GAY I'M-

Tobi: 'E's. 'E's Bi. Deep breaths deep breaths deep breaths just don' panic and ask 'im out that's a bad plan-

Tobi that's actually how you deal with romantic feelings like a functional human being but sure, go off. 

Tobi comes out to Nao and Mokichi with Sora's support shortly after that, and their reactions are, respectively: "NICE!" "Cool." and then Nao tackles Tobi in a hug that is the start of a big grouphug. 

There's lots of hugging and crying (the latter is Nao and Sora and a little bit of Mokichi), and Tobi will vehemently deny that he cried at all, but a few tears got out.

(Lbr Tobi's gay pining for Sora was Not Subtle, so they already knew, but they don't tell him that for a while. When they do tell him, he's gotten to the point where he just stares at them blankly for a moment and then groans rather than flipping out. Mokichi chuckles quietly and Nao just outright laughs at him.)

But anyway, both of these Absolute Idiots are still crushing on each other, and everyone is suffering.

Actually, scratch "crushing,” it's moved into full-blown pining now.

Sora eventually also accepts that, alright, he has a big crush on Tobi. Tobi, their ace. Tobi, one of his best friends. Tobi, one of the best wings in all of Japan. Tobi, who is ridiculously attractive. Tobi, who looks like an actual bush when he doesn't tie his hair back somehow, because his hair is insanely (and adorably) frizzy and voluminous. Tobi, who will whoop at the top of his lungs and grin like a maniac because he just pulled off a fantastic drive and double-clutch, even though he's exhausted and soaked in sweat and they're four minutes into overtime. Tobi, who makes the cutest face with the sweetest smile Sora has ever seen when he talks to his sister. (Tobi, who is a boy, and Sora has stopped caring.)

Sora even stops denying that he likes Tobi after a little bit, and Momoharu is just in the background going, "good job, it only took you two entire years to figure that out."

Sora: LEAVE. ME. ALONE.

Momoharu: Okay but have you considered: No. Absolutely not. 

Anyway Tobi mostly complains/gay rants to Nao and sometimes Mokichi, and at this point, even Juri is slightly sick of her brother talking about "our amazin' point guard." Yer not subtle, Anchan????

Except it eventually moves from "wow he's amazin' but NO I do not 'ave a crush on 'im" to "oh my God I am SO gay," and then later it moves to a more resigned gay panic. ("Nnnnnnghhhhh I nearly fuckin' kissed 'im after practice today what do I do-")

Nao is trying to bully both of them into confessing, but neither will take the first step, not because of pride, but because they're scared. (Nao is. So. Done. Even if she sympathizes, it has been two years of this bullcrap please-)

Tobi, especially, is afraid of losing everything again after his nasty stepdad booted him out.

Sora is like "that is one of my closest friends, and given this team's stability record I am Not Poking That Mess With A Long Stick."

Momoharu, who is the one he says this to, is just kinda like, "Yeah I can't really argue with that, as much I want you to confess."

Nao, later, having been subjected to a similar rant, after he said "closest friend" instead of "a dude": HE'S GROWING UP KANAME-KUN I'M TEARING UP-

Mokichi is far too tired of everything to interfere, which is fair.

Juri badgers Tobi for a solid four weeks before he admits what's really going on, and then it kind of all comes spilling out, and she encourages him to confess to Sora, but he's still reluctant.

Nao also bluntly says, "Kenji-kun's family abandoned him, Sora-kun, and it may be because he's the words ‘problem child' given physical form, but it may be because he's queer. If you want to work this out, I think you'll need to take the first step." 

(Tobi told the team about his past late first year/early second year. Crying happened and everyone basically group-tackle-hugged Tobi, and he finally got the hugs he very much needed and definitely deserved.)

And Sora angsts over that for a while until Chiaki very simply says, "Do you want things between the two of you to change?" And Sora realizes that yes, he does, he doesn't want things to stay the same, he wants to hold Tobi's hand and go on dates and call each other at weird hours for the sake of it and hold each other until they fall asleep and kiss him and -- well, you get the idea.

So he works up the courage, and it's one night some months before the national tournament when Sora asks Tobi to stay behind with him for extra practice. Sora is really nervous, and Tobi is like "??? Sure? Are ya okay?"

Sora, voice cracking: yEaH I'M FINE

Anyway, Sora misses like a solid sixty percent of his shots that practice and Tobi is. So confused.

Tobi to Mokichi: Did. Did somethin' happen.

Mokichi just shrugs, which does not make Tobi feel better.

So Tobi stays behind all the others to talk with Sora, and they're both really nervous. Obviously, Sora is about to confess, and Tobi is just so confused, and also some small part of him is going, "oh God did he figure out I like 'im????"

Nao and Mokichi kicked all the first and second years out after just an hour of individual practice, and Sora is grateful but also, "guys please don't make me confront my problems."

Nao: "Sora-kun if we waited for you to deal with this we'd be here 'till sunrise."

Mokichi, tiredly: "No, we'd be here until we turned old and gray."

Sora asks Tobi to sit with him while blushing, and Tobi complies, still very puzzled.

They make small talk for a minute, and then Sora abruptly says, "Kenji-kun... I... I think I have a crush on you".

Tobi gapes at him like a fish, opening and closing his mouth for a solid minute, and eventually, Sora.exe unfreezes and goes, "Sorry, I-" and Tobi just goes, "Fer real? Ya aren't prankin' me again?" in a surprisingly quiet voice.

And Sora is mildly offended but knows that's a fair assumption given their track record of prank wars, and he also almost wants to use the excuse Tobi has handily provided, but he just stands and goes "I'm sorry, I should leave-"

And Tobi leaps to his feet, grabs his hand, and says flat out, "Sora, I've 'ad a crush on ya since first year."

And Sora just kinda… short circuits. "Wait, really?"

Tobi just kinda rubs the back of his neck (shyly? Tobi gets shy?) and goes, "Yeah, I... I kinda only admitted it in tha middle a' second year, though."

And Sora says slowly, "You... you like me. You like me!" He laughs, relieved. "Holy shit, I was so scared you were going to reject me and it was going to ruin everything--"

And Tobi is just going oh my God, he's adorable, I can't deal with him, and takes Sora's chin in one hand and asks quietly, "Sora, can I kiss ya?" Sora's eyes, predictably, go wide, and he nods. (And please take a moment to recall and appreciate the fact that Tobi is canonically an entire foot taller than Sora. Sora is 149 cm (4'10.7) and Tobi is 178 (5'10.1). This is fantastic because I will bet actual money that this height difference has not shrunk; if anything, it has grown.)

They kiss just as the entire team bursts into the gym. Turns out, they were watching the whole thing, and honestly, none of them look that ashamed; they put up with the pair's bullshit for this long, they're invested now, and they deserved to know what happened.

"ALRIGHT MOTHERFUCKERS, THIS IS REVENGE FOR TWO AND A HALF YEARS OF USELESS GAY PINING," Nao yells. "KANAME-KUN, EVERYONE -- GRAB THEM!"

And the team lifts the yelling and protesting couple above their heads as Sora loudly objects and Tobi swears at them. The first years learn some creative new insults. The second and third years, on the other hand, are very accustomed to Tobi by this point, and aren't remotely surprised, but -- oh, haven't heard that one before, actually, says a second year. The others mutter assent. 

We have, Mokichi grouches. We third years have heard them all. 

Sora is small and easily hauled around, and Tobi is also pretty helpless when being held up above the heads of Mokichi and their first-year center. So they can’t really like... do anything about being dragged around.

Nao leads the team forward like an army, and they march to the pool to drop the two of them in, and when they resurface, fully clothed and soaked to the bone, Sora is laughing hysterically. (Assume Sora learned to swim at some point.)

Tobi is groaning, but he's grinning, and he swims over to the side of the pool -- and grabs Nao and Mokichi's ankles and drags them in, both of them yelling.

And Sora thinks, with Nao yelling in irritation but a sparkle in her eyes and a grin she's failing to fight off, with Mokichi laughing quietly as he flings his wet bangs out of his eyes, with Tobi laughing hysterically, his hair slicked back by water, with the four of them wearing all of their clothes and soaked to the bone, their entire team yanking off their shirts to jump into the pool with them and the moon and stars shining overhead, that he's never been happier.

And Tobi turns to him and grins, and Sora can't keep himself from jumping at Tobi -- who catches him, startled -- and kissing him again.  

And, like, hey, Tobi isn't about to complain.

They take about two months to settle into things, and then it's just like... I'm sorry, who thought letting Kurumatani "Embodiment of Chaos" and Natsume "Biggest Problem Child Ever" Kenji date was a good idea?????

It's a bit awkward for a while because they're still feeling things out and figuring out what they're both comfortable with, but then they finally click, and it's... pure fucking chaos.  

Sora will not stop stealing Tobi's clothes and Tobi is not happy about it, mostly because -- Sora, if ya keep stealin' my clothes while I am in the changin' room, then I do not 'ave clothes to wear ya stupid chibi--

Tobi has stormed into the gym shirtless at least twice yelling, "SORA! GIVE BACK MY FUCKIN' SHIRT!"

Listen. Listen we have a total of three scenes of Tobi being shirtless, and two of them were in front of plenty of people. Tobi is many things, but body shy is not one of them. He wouldn't care. 

(Post-Kitasumi loss, post-Shinjo loss, and that one scene of him dribbling in a park or something at night with an audience. The night before they played Taiei.)

Tobi: Are ya ever jus' tryin' to figure out where all yer clothes have gotten ta and then ya turn ‘round and see 'em all on yer dumbass tiny boyfriend?

Sora, clearly utterly unapologetic, wearing Tobi's sweatshirt: Oops. 

Chiaki, probably: SOME OF US ARE SINGLE STOP RUBBING IT IN.

As mentioned before, Sora is canonically 149 cm (~4'10.7), and Tobi is 178 cm (~5'10.1). There's a 29-centimeter difference, almost an entire foot, and frankly, that difference has grown a few centimeters, and you bet Tobi is going to abuse the shit out of this.

He literally holds things Sora wants over Sora's head all the time and Sora hates it. Like yes, Tobi did this before they dated too, but now Tobi is doing it more just to be annoying. It's also the only way Tobi can keep his clothes out of Sora's hands whenever they aren't on Tobi's person. (It's kind of hard to steal a shirt when someone is wearing it.) 

"THIS IS ABUSE!"

"Me holdin' m' own jacket above m' head so that ya can't steal it from me isn't abuse, it’s self-preservation! It’s like -20 degrees out there, Sora, use yer own jacket!"

I personally headcanon Tobi shooting up like a weed, but whether he did or not, he's probably between 180 and 190 now (5'11 and 6'3). Meanwhile, Sora is like maybe 155-60. It is possible that Sora also shoots up, but I feel like he would hit 165 at most. That would have him growing 16 cm, which is 8 inches, so. That's a lot of inches to grow in two and a half years. 

The things Tobi holds above his head are mostly his own clothes and also food items, plus the occasional basketball.

He also sometimes will nab Sora's clothes and hold them up in the air just to get back at him. Sora will be leaping up in the air, trying to reach his clothes, while Tobi stands there with a shit-eating grin holding Sora's shirt over his head. It looks so stupid. Nao and Mokichi both have multiple videos of it. (Nao has like five.) (What? She suffered, alright? Let her have this blackmail, at least.)

Sora: :( My boyfriend is too tall for me to kiss him on the lips, what should I do?

Momoharu: Punch him in the stomach. Then, when he doubles over in pain, kiss him.

Nao: Tackle him.

Chiaki: Dump him.

Mokichi: Kick him in the shin.

Tobi: NO TO ALL A' THOSE, JUST ASK ME TA LEAN DOWN!

Nao and Mokichi and Momoharu and Chiaki and Madoka and literally all of their friends are still giving them a hard time for being useless gays and taking two and half years to deal with their feelings even five years later. They're never going to live it down.

As adults, juggling careers and their growing relationship is hard.

They both go to universities in Tokyo, thankfully, and don't have to do long distance, and get an apartment together in their third year.

Tobi probably joins the B.League, and maybe Sora does too. (I dunno, I'm not committing to anything with career HCs.)

If they do, they have to keep their relationship secret; it would be a huge deal to be gay athletes in Japan (or... anywhere.) Most of their teammates know, though. Like... Sora regularly shows up to practice in Tobi's sweatshirts.

The sexual tension whenever they play each other is intense, though.

(My pet headcanon for Tobi is actually him going to university in America and joining the NBA. While I want to do that with Sora too, the mangaka apparently turned down two anime deals because they ended with Sora in the NBA. I haven't fact-checked that, though.)

They're around 25 when the world as a whole finds out. It either comes out because one of them is like, "hey babe do ya wanna just come out? We have enough money to retire if this goes south," "Oh sure," or because they mess up so drastically that people figure it out. After all, it would take a lot to break past the "they're such good friends!" mentality of sports reporters. Like seriously. These two are not subtle. They can let heteronormativity do most of the work for them, in all honesty. 

Anyway, it comes out, and the media goes into an uproar, and they retreat to visit Sora's dad in Nagano without telling anyone except their coaches and closest friends where they've holed up and just let the world burn while they enjoy tea and the view of the mountains and avoid social media like the plague. 

Assuming it was planned:

Tobi, the day before coming out, on his official twitter: I'll be doing a no-electronics retreat with my partner for two weeks, so I won't be on social media. Enjoy your week!

Or possibly the way he came out, besides their official announcement on Sora's account, was just "I'll be doing a no-electronics retreat with my boyfriend, @KurumataniOfficial, for the next two weeks. Bye y'all, have a good two weeks! :)" because that has Tobi's chaotic energy.

Edit: Actually? I take that back. SORA would do that. That has SORA'S chaotic energy.

When people get homophobic, all of their friends -- high school, college, adult life -- are immediately down to throw hands. 

The Japanese highschool circle of people who went professional is small and pretty close-knit, and the NBA and B.League sides are quite close to each other as well. Shiraishi and Fuwa, who are both in the NBA, both riot when people attack their old acquaintances from high school. I personally headcanon Fuwa as a raging chaotic bi, because -- hair. Yozan, for that matter, is also pretty pissed off. 

Fuwa probably gets on twitter and goes, "What's this bullshit about them being gay???? Of course they're gay. Have you ever seen them interact for more than two seconds??? Are you blind??? Wait, nope. Sorry. Don't want to insult blind people. ARE YOU ACTUALLY THAT DUMB????"

Momoharu tweets," 'Wow, imagine being so insecure in your masculinity that you can't share a changing room with a gay man' --My twin Chiaki, and Sora and Tobi's HS teammate, upon them coming out in HS" and first Sora's teammates start retweeting it and then Tobi's and then every single one of both their teams’ members retweets it. It's fantastic. 

Then Shiraishi (who, again, is in the NBA) retweets it, and it goes completely viral. Chiaki is so happy but also really pissed that it's Momoharu's account. 

Momoharu ribs him about it for a solid three weeks just to be obnoxious. 

There's actually no one on either of their teams that didn't already know about the relationship. Again, they're not subtle together. If there was any drama, it was presumably resolved by getting rid of the homophobe. 

Anyway, so while shit hits the fan, Sora and Tobi just shelter in place and their friends all react by going to war, which both of them are a bit taken aback by, but like, they aren't complaining about it. They're both touched actually.  

For marriage, honestly, neither one of them proposes in any fancy manner; they probably decided to get married because the topic comes up due to taxes. Sora goes, "Hey, do you think we should get married? The taxes would be cheaper," without really thinking about it, and Tobi goes, "Honestly, if it means everyone will stop badgerin' us about 'tyin' the knot' or whatever, I vote we elope," and that's that. Some two hours later while making dinner, Sora goes, "HOLY SHIT WAIT ARE WE ENGAGED?" and Tobi, who was reading, stares at him for three seconds, processes that, and slowly goes, "...I guess? Yeah, I guess we are. Wow. We did that." 

Sora slams his head on the table and Tobi just very tiredly says, "babe, no, ya need those brain cells." 

Assume gay marriage is by this point legal and accepted.

When asked how they got engaged, everyone is just like, "THAT'S SO ANTICLIMACTIC?????" This is also the media's reaction.

Interviewer: Why did you and Natsume-san decide to get married?

Sora, shrugging: Taxes are easier with your partner when you're married.

But they went to get rings together on their tenth anniversary shortly after deciding to get married, and if that isn't sappy as hell, I don't know what is. 

They probably don't wait long for the wedding and don't bother making it a huge thing; they invite all their friends, hire some folks to keep the media out no matter what, and hire a few people to film it and figure they can share that footage later. ("I am not havin' the media at my weddin' that is a private event for friends and family -" "Love, I am not arguing with you, I don't want them there either???")

Nao will be best woman for one of them at the wedding, and you bet she will give them so much shit for being disasters back in high school in her speech.

Juri, who by that point is like 20 something, because the disaster gays don't get married till they're at least 28 to 30, is either Tobi's best woman or playing some significant role in the wedding. She also roasts her brother and brother-in-law. 

Tobi and Juri are definitely half-siblings, just in terms of time. He looked five or six when his biodad died, and she seems about the same age, meaning there's a ten-year gap. 

Also, it's implied in the manga, so. 

The newly-weds are just sitting there groaning as their friends/family members roast them, but they're both grinning. 

The vows are probably really, really sappy, and Tobi can claim it's Sora's fault as much as he wants, but he's honestly also kind of a sap too and all his friends know it.

Tobi's stepdad is not invited. In fact, Tobi goes out of his way to send an edited version of the invitation to him that basically says, "Wedding! You're not invited!" while Sora and Juri die of laughter in the background. His mother does come, though -- she eventually moved out following the "her younger sister stormed in boiling with righteous fury on behalf of her son" incident. While the couple never got a divorce, they haven't spoken in years. 

The invitees are actually mostly friends, not family. While Sora's dad, grandma, and extended family come, Tobi's only present family are his sister, his aunt, his mother, and his biodad's brother (and the brother's wife and kids.) But they have hundreds of friends there; Nao, Mokichi, Momoharu, Chiaki, Madoka, Yasu, Chukie, Nabe, their kouhai from their second and third years, Satsuki with his wife and two kids, Shiraishi, Fuwa, Yozan, Mineta, Yakku, Nino, Tarou, both of their professional teams and all the team staff, the national team that they played with, Sakamaki, Yuka and Tomohisa’s friends, Madoka's older sister, their college teammates and classmates -- the list literally just doesn't stop. For like. Days. That guest list was the hardest part of the wedding, actually.

The symbol they use on the invitations is a dragon. Momoharu and Nao both cry when they see the nod to the Kuzuryu team. (Chiaki does not cry, he claims. Momoharu calls bullshit, and Momoharu is, for once, completely right.) 

The cake has wing patterns curving up the sides; one kite wing with a healed injury, and a duck wing in front of the silhouette of an eagle wing. ("I'm sappy, Ken, sue me." "Actually, I think that's adorable, so go ahead.") 

The healed injury was Tobi's idea, though. Sora was confused, but Tobi explained that Sora and Kuzuryu brought him back to basketball as a team sport, and healed him from the pain of being pushed away from his family. Sora cries.

The shadow of the eagle wing was also Tobi's idea. He says "I agree that yer a duck because I love ya to pieces but yer still short as shit-" "Oi." "-but I also think ya learned how to fly in yer own right. Swimmin' and duckin' be damned. Ya fly on the court, Sora." 

Sora does not cry again. He does not. ("Sure ya didn't." "SHUT UP KEN-") (He definitely teared up a little, because Tobi is looking at him with a soft smile and the most affectionate look in his eyes, and holy shit, I love him, and I'm going to marry him????

They go to Nagano and Hiroshima to visit their parents' graves after the wedding. Both of them are sappy about it. "I wish you could have met him" speeches, basically, while the other stands out of earshot.

They then proceed to screw off to Hawaii on a honeymoon for two weeks, since it's the offseason. 

Either they combine their names, or Tobi takes Sora's last name.

I feel like Tobi would, just to spite his stepdad. I'm pretty sure Natsume is his stepdad's last name, since Tobi is seen wearing a helmet that is probably his dad's in a flashback, and it has a different name on it. Might've been a company name, though. Idk.

Sora is maybe crying when they change the nameplate on their Tokyo apartment to read "Kurumatani-Natsume Sora and Kurumatani-Natsume Kenji" because "holy shit that's my fucking husband!!!!!"

And Tobi just laughs and wraps his arms around him and drags him down onto the couch to hold him, and Sora thinks that life is good. Very good. 

And if Nao and Mokichi and Momoharu and Chiaki and Madoka and Juri and crew all crash their place five seconds later, well, Sora thinks, that just makes it better. 

wow! if you made it through this entire thing i am grateful to you for reading! and lowkey impressed because this is almost 5000 words. see my Ahiru No Sora Headcanons tag for more! there is also a Sora/Nao relationship headcanons post.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Dear Dean (Chapter 8)

Re-post

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC (Jamie Blum)

WC: 5.4k

Summary: After taking Saint Lo, by sheer dumb luck, Lieutenant Dean Winchester from the 29th Infantry Division, Baker Company, received a truckload of replacements for his platoon that was falling apart. Little did he know, that one recruit would change his life forever.

Chapter Warnings: Fluff and there’s some adult things in it but I don’t wanna give too away too much

SERIES MASTERLIST

August 14th, 1944

Dean was whistling as his platoon stood at attention. He hadn’t been in this good spirit in what seemed like months, but today was a good day. Maybe because he finally found some time to meet Bambi after dinner.

“Sir.” Bambi looked up at him through her thick eyelashes, her large brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “Can I help you with something?”

“Actually, you can.” He shifted his weight awkwardly, trying to keep his stomach from doing summer salts. What was he, fourteen? He’d been with women before, just not like that. None like her.

“Care to elaborate, Lieutenant?” Her smile grew, challenging him.

“I need your assistance at Twenty-one hundred hours, Bambi. Needs to sort through ammo supplies. See if we still have enough.”

“I don’t know, Lieutenant. I may be busy. That’s around the time that Trenton tells his wild tales about his newest love interest. I can’t miss that, sir.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow, as if to ask her ‘seriously’?

She smirked in response. “But I guess I can do it for our fearless leader. Since you’re asking so nicely.”

They’d been tip toeing around each other, unconsciously and consciously touching when their hands would meet, and Dean felt himself blushing every damn time. They’d sit across from each other during meals, their eyes meeting, and toes brushing under the table. It was like there was a magnet pulling them together by their chests. He ached to kiss her again.

She would ask him questions, even when she knew the answer, just to get him to come closer. 

“Where does this piece go on the rifle again, sir? The bolt, isn’t it? I never can quite get it right.”

“Just takes practice, Bambi.” He said with fake annoyance. “Let me show you.”

He’d lean over, pressing his palm to her back.

She’d sit up a little straighter and bat his hand away. There were eyes everywhere, and just because she was a woman didn’t mean that it was any less dangerous for them to be together.

“Don’t tell them, Dean. You have to promise me. I can’t go home, not now.” Her fingers were laced with his. “Not while my brothers are out here somewhere. I just can’t sit alone doing nothing.”

They’d stand too close. He’d feel her breath on his skin, and he would jump in the opposite direction. Tension was high, to say the least. He couldn’t wait to get her alone, even to just talk. When he was with her he wasn’t a superior officer talking to his private. He was just Dean, and she was Jamie. There was something unbelievably peaceful about that.

But it was only Oh-nine-hundred, so it was still a damn long way to go, but Dean couldn’t help feeling giddy.

Right then, Dean was trying his best not to think about her soft lips on his. Not to think about how she tasted on the tip of his tongue and how his name sounded whispered, breathless on her lips.

She’d got under his skin, snuck up on him and crawled inside. She was a spitfire and Dean was glad that he she wouldn’t let herself be tamed. Not by him, or anyone else. Somehow it made him worry about her a little less. There was no question that Jamie Blum could take care of herself.

“Physical training at Eleven-hundred-hours. You’re dismissed.” Dean shouted and his men walked away with some yes sirs.

Bambi looked back to him, her nose wrinkling with the smallest smile. If he hadn’t been staring so hard he wouldn’t have seen it. She turned her head and went with Trenton. Dean really couldn’t wait for the evening to arrive. He’ll be meeting Bambi at Twenty-one-hundred hours at their spot which Dean scouted over and over to see if it really was safe. He was thankful that he was her platoon leader so it made it less suspicious. Maybe he was wrong, but Dean liked to believe it. It made him a little less sick to his stomach at the thought of getting caught. Worst case scenario they’d think they were queer, shoot first and ask questions later. Best case scenario, they’d find out she was a girl, and they’d send her home. Neither were options that Dean wanted to explore.

Of course his plans would get thrown out of the window when Castiel called for an emergency briefing at Twenty-thirty-hours. They would move out in less than 48 hours toward Brest. Another combat. Another city to capture and it was a big one. They talked about what would happen and Castiel gave them the little intel he had. Telling them that they would notify their men tomorrow after the morning briefing. It was just informal for now. The meeting was long for an informal one, though, and Dean flipped his wrist to look at his watch. It was Twenty-one-oh-two. He was already two minutes late. Dean turned his attention back to listen to Castiel, but shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

“Winchester, somewhere you need to be?” Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, sir.”

The answer was good enough for Cas. He asked if they had more questions, and Dean hoped that Gabe would shut his mouth. He was always the goody-good boy. Trying to crawl up the ass of whoever was CO.

Castiel looked at their faces and when no question came, he dismissed them and Dean let out an exhale.

Dean walked with the others to their billets, then excused himself, saying that he had to check the latrines because his platoon had latrine duty. He looked at his watch when he stood outside of his billet building. It was now Twenty-one-twelve. He was already 12 minutes late. She was probably gone. He started to run then, as good as his healed up ankle would let him.

He was out of breath when he arrived in front of the supply room and looked around to see if someone was following him. When the coast was clear, he pushed the door open just enough to wedge his body inside and closed it behind him carefully.

It was dark already, only the faint light from the night sky shimmered through the windows and his eyes needed time to adjust to the darkness.

Dean didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know if she was still there or if she was already gone. He took a tentative step into the room and was about to call out for her when he was thrown off his balance by her body. Jamie jumped on him with a faint shriek and a huffed giggle. She hooked her legs around his waist, still laughing as she rested her forehead on his. “You’re late, sir.” She whispered against his mouth before she kissed him. He could still taste the coffee on her lips as he smiled into the kiss. He held onto her thighs to keep her up.

He paused the kiss to let out a breathy, “Sorry,” before he walked her further into the room, with one hand secured around her waist and one hand at the back of her neck. He pulled her closer, to the back of the room where the darkness would swallow them whole.

Dean pressed her back against the far wall, kissing himself stupid on her taste. He smiled as he felt her cheeks heat up against his. She held his face between her hands, letting her fingertips brush against his heated skin before she went further down, unzipping his jacket. Her fingers danced along his suspenders. She pushed them down on either side. Dean gladly let her. He shrugged his combat jacket off one arm after another and pinned her back against the wall when he was freed of the fabric.

He was busy with her intoxicating kisses, the way she pushed her tongue into his mouth without any preamble, the way the tip of her tongue tickled the underside of his. He felt how his dick started to swell at the new found excitement. It had been too long since the last time he did this very thing. He rolled his hips up, this time fully aware that there was no friction to be met, but she moved down a bit, grinding down on his bulge. Dean breathed out a strangled moan into her mouth.

She tapped on his arm, and he let her down. She leaned her back against the wall standing on her toes, as Dean continued to kiss her. It was all tongue and teeth, too fast and probably clumsy. She was inexperienced, but hell, if it wasn’t perfect. Dean’s heart was thumping hard and he couldn’t remember when he’d ever been that excited. He recalled that it was probably never.

Bambi’s hand were on the front of his pants, the pressure of it made his dick twitch and Dean jerked a little as she ran her fingers over the length of him through the fabric. He bit down on her bottom lip in the process; the friction was too sudden and fuck, he wasn’t prepare of how good it would feel. “Shit, sorry,” He whispered, his forehead on hers and she giggled, looking up to mold her lips back to his again.

Her small hands were quick on his belt working it open, the clink of metal echoing in the tiny space. She loosened his buttons with deft fingers, and Dean tried to do the same but immediately abandoned his mission, because he was way too impatient to work them open. He wanted to feel her. To connect. His hand squeezed it’s way past the buttons of her combats, and then he pushed past the elastic of her cotton army underwear and cupped at her sex with the heel of his palm, his fingers threaded through her slick. She bit down on her already red and swollen bottom lip, and Dean could even see in the dim lighting, that she was flushed. Her cheeks were burning up and Dean almost forgot his ministration from how cute she looked.

His fingers parted her folds and Dean held in his breath when he felt her getting wetter. He lowered his head to hers, kissing her again, his nose bumping against hers clumsily, and he smiled against the corner of her mouth. His fingers worked her open while he circled her clit with his thumb. He groaned into her mouth when she pushed her hand into his underwear and he jerked his hips away from her touch a little. Her hands were damn cold, and Dean needed a second to compose himself. Jamie was grinning cheekily and he kissed it away like he had always wanted to the past few weeks.

His hard cock was twitching and throbbing in her small hands and she worked his shaft, rubbing him the right way along his lengths, the pressure was perfect. Dean had a lot to compare her to, but he didn’t want to. If he was being honest, he couldn’t remember anyone but her in that moment. It was more than he thought it would be. She slipped her other hand into his underwear too, cupping his sac and twirled his balls in her palm, and he thrusted his cock into her fist gently. When she thumbed his slit and let her fingertip that was coated in precum brush over his sensitive string of nerves, Dean almost lost it and he had to stop with his ministration, taking his hand out of her pants to brace himself against the wall, mumbling curses to himself. He was not going to last with the build up. It’d been too long, and she was too fucking perfect. His elbows were resting on either side of her head as he kissed her again, breathing unevenly in to the kiss and his heart was pounding out of his chest. He kissed her again and again. All over. And still it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

“Fuck.” Dean let out another hot breath, as he rest his forehead on her shoulder, his nose bumping against her throat.

“What?” She whispered, breathless.

She looked up with a glint in her eyes and Dean chuckled softly. Not the good kind of chuckle, it was a chuckle that said I’m a stupid fuck and I can’t believe that I came here without a solid plan.

“I wish I still had the condoms they gave us for waterproofing when we crossed the channel. Fuck…” Dean buried his head in the crook of her neck, smelling the familiar smell of soap and camouflage cream. Both of her hands now worked his dick and shit, if she didn’t stop, he won’t be able to hold it in any longer.

“You used them all?” If he wasn’t mistaken, she looked a little jealous.

Dean could almost hear the sinking of her heart and he felt her releasing the grip around his cock. Actually, he was glad about that because it gave him a breather.

“No.. oh no, no. I abandoned them at the bottom of the sea when I got rid of my haversack.”

“Oh..”

She smiled, and laced her arms around his neck to scratch at the short hair at the base of it. Dean closed his eyes, it felt great.

“We still could, you know…” She stood on her tip toes and whispered against the shell of his ear. Dean looked down to her, his eyebrows raised.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to, Dean.” Her large brown eyes bore into his. “I haven’t had my period, since before I was drafted. You could pull out.”

He frowned at that, the lines on his forehead showing. Then she smiled again, her hand cupping his cheek, her thumbs brushing along the scruff before she spoke. “I want you to.”

“I..I –”

It was probably not the best thing Dean could do, but god knows how much he wanted it too.

“Sir, if you don’t do it, I swear I’ll–”

Dean kissed her, cutting her off and he murmured a, “Yes, Ma’am” into her mouth.

She toed off her boots and it left Dean stunned because they were already unlaced. “Always be prepared, Lieutenant.” She said with a wink and if Dean didn’t feel anything for her before, he sure as hell would then. But that was irrelevant because he was head over heels smitten with her.

Bambi pushed him away to shimmy herself out of her combat pants and rid herself of her jacket when Dean watched her. He put his palm to his mouth and spit on it before he took his cock in his hand, fisting it up and down as he waited for her to finish getting out of her clothes.

She wiggled out of her pants, and lost balance. She slipped on the pant leg and fell on her face clumsily and Dean didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help the laugh that threw his whole body back and logged itself in his throat. He composed himself quickly, though. Remembering that they needed to stay quiet and almost kicked himself in the ass for not being more careful.

She stood up again soon after, hitting him across his chest for laughing at her, and it hurt, but Dean totally deserved it. She met his eyes and swatted his hand away from his dick and grabbed it roughly, tightening her grip around his length and squeezed a little too tightly. Dean hitched his breathing and he guessed that he also deserved that.

He looked down to see her grinning at him.

“Jump,” He whispered holding his arms out, ready to catch her.

“How high, Lieutenant?” She giggled as she jumped up into his arms. Dean wrapped his arms around her tightly, pinning her back against the wall.

“You sure about this?” He asked her again, lowly, because if she wouldn’t be, he was ready to back out of it. But she nodded and Dean pressed his lips to hers slowly in response, drinking her in. Bambi, the one he could never have. The kisses were demanding and all want, weeks of pent up energy. She tugged on his hair, proving that she needed him just as much as he needed her. He licked her bottom lip as he lined up his cock at her entrance, brushing the tip through her slick before he pushed his hips forward, sinking himself into her hot heat. She hitched her breathing and tensed a little from the pressure, but she didn’t tell him to stop. He stalled for a moment, resting his forehead on hers, their breathing mingled. “You okay?” He asked her and waited for her okay, before he pushed himself in another inch.

Dean worked his hips forward gently, sinking into her tight pussy, inch by inch, and fuck, it felt so fucking good that he had to stall when his pelvis was flushed to hers. They were there, connected on the inside, skin on skin with no space in between. An inaudible moan rolled off her tongue and the sound alone almost made him lose his shit. It was a moan that got under his skin and paired with the stimulation, it felt like heaven and beyond.

She was crawling at his back, holding herself up. “Dean?”

“Huh?”

“I won’t break, you know.” Her eyes were alert, bright and expecting. Those fucking eyes.

“Yeah.. uh.. I know.” He said, his heart was pounding fast and he was sure that she could feel it through the fabric of their shirts. “I… just… fuck, Bambi, I won’t last long.” He ran his fingers through her short hair.

She laughed at that and Dean should’ve maybe felt embarrassed but, he didn’t. Instead he listened to the sound of her laugh, drinking it in, memorizing it to keep it in his mind forever.

Dean moved, thrusting his hips forward into her and she kissed him, her breathing ragged with each thrust. She squeezed her hand between the two of them as she began to rub at herself while he fucked into her.

Jamie left open mouthed kisses on the corner of his mouth, sucking at his jaw, dragging her teeth along his throat, and Dean moaned at the sensation overload.

“Shit, Dean.. I.. ah..” Jamie came with a whimper and his name that rolled off her lips like the sweetest melody Dean’d ever heard. He couldn’t count how many times he’d imagined hearing her say his name like that. Wrecked and breathy, her lips still smelling of his skin. Her thighs pressed against his waist, squeezing it hard in between as her walls cramped down on his dick, holding it captive and fuck, it was all too much. Too tight, too good, too damn perfect.

“Shit..fuck,” Dean squeezed his eyes shut as he moaned and pulled out, but it wasn’t fast enough. He had already spilled half of it inside of her and the rest was visibly on her inner thighs and the floor. He let her down quickly and took a step back before running his fingers through his hair, his eyes wide. “Shit, Bambi. Fuck, I’m sorry. Shit. It shouldn’t have happened. I fuck.. I shouldn’t. Shit!” Dean lowered himself onto his knees, his legs felt wobbly all of a sudden.

He’d fucked up.

He put his dick back into his pants and buttoned it up before he sat himself against the wall some inches away from the spilled cum. Jamie got dressed quickly and came to sit beside him quietly.

Dean clasped his head in his hand and rubbed through his hair. Back and forth, back and forth. “Shit, Bambi. I’m sorry…” He sounded like an old record. Repeating himself over and over.

“Shhh..” She moved closer, hushing him as she laid her head on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”

“I.. I, just.. really haven’t done it for a very long time and I guess, I miscalculated. You were so fucking tight too and it.. fuck, you were perfect, alright.”

Dean didn’t lie. Last time he hooked up with someone it was back in England and he was drunk then, didn’t even really remember what happened when he woke next to a broad in the middle of the night. He jumped out of the bed, scrambled around the floor for his clothes and was glad that he found a used condom near the bed, so at least he still had enough common sense to use one. Unlike now; and he knew that it’s also on him.

She smirked at that. “Dean, really. It’s ok.” She repeated again and Dean frowned at first but he spread his arm for her to curl close to his body. Dean kissed the top of her head, his lips lingered there. Her short hair pricking him a little, but he didn’t complain.

“Thanks.” She said then and Dean looked down at her. Her doe eyes looking back at him.

“For what?”

“It was nice Lieutenant. I’d love to do it again sometime.” She was smiling cheekily.

Dean blushed at that and he hoped that she didn’t see it. “Yes, Ma’am. Come here.” He maneuvered her over his leg to sit between his thighs and he let her lean the back of her head on his chest.

“Do you know that you’re less grumpy nowadays?” She asked out of the blue and tilted her head to look up at him.

“What’s that?”

“Yeah, the men said that they don’t know what happened to you but apparently you got soft and you smile more.” She giggled and shifted herself to her side, so her face was resting in the crook of his neck and he was holding her with both arms.

“Is that so?”

“Haha.. yeah.” She laughed. “Did you know that they used to call you Grumpy?”

He’d been called many things in the past and he knew that his platoon had a nickname for him, but he didn’t know what it was. When he heard the name, he frowned down at her. “What?”

“Grumpy. I mean, you gave them the name Dopey and Sneezy. So…”

“Who said that? It’s Tran isn’t it?” Dean murmured and she just shrugged.

“Not going to kiss and tell, Lieutenant.”

“Remind me to put his name in for latrine duty from here on out until we get Hitler’s head on a stick, will ya?”

“Oh, come on, cut him some slack,” She punched him in the chest playfully. “And in his defense. You were really grumpy.”

That was probably true. Dean has no valid explanation for why he was such a stick in the mud, and he was not going to deny it.

They stayed a little while longer, sitting there in the comforting dark silence. Jamie fell asleep in his arms, listening to his heartbeat against her ear. Dean really didn’t want to wake her, she looked peaceful. He’d seen her sleep before, but never quite like that. Her lips were parted slightly, and her eyes were completely at rest. Her face looked relaxed, beautiful even. He smiled down at her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. He had to be the bad guy, and wake sleeping beauty, because at Twenty-three-thirty-hours he had to check their billets.

“Hey.” He mumbled, kissing her awake.

“Shit, what time is it? I should be heading back.” Jamie jolted up when he kissed her.

“So soon?” He joked, but he knew that their time was up. There was never enough time.

She stood up and held out a hand for him to take. “Yeah, my platoon leader is really strict. He’ll come by every night at the same time and if someone’s not in their bed, he tends to be dramatic and raises hell. You know, being all tough and puffing out his chest, hanging out his alpha male behaviour and all.”

Dean got on his feet and hugged her around her waist. He lowered his head to whisper in her ears. “He sounds like an asshole.”

“Ugh.. he is. But I like him.”

“I bet he’s a handsome asshole.” Dean kissed her lips one last time before he let her go out first. He stayed behind a couple of minutes longer, just to be safe.

Before he went for inspection, he read Sam’s letter that he didn’t have the time to read earlier. He tore up the dirty envelope and took out the pages. There was dried blood on it too and shit, he hoped that Sam took care of himself.

Dear Dean,

Never fucking joke like that ever again, alright? You know that you’re not funny and the fact that you almost died is even less funny. I should court-martial you. Fucking jerk! I bet I would find a good reason to do it, too. Especially after you said that you did something stupid. What did you do? Steal Cas’ socks? I know what a goody soldier you are, and I can’t say that I’m not worried when you, of all people, tell me that you did something stupid.

Dean, please don’t do anything stupid, alright? I have my hands full here. I can’t come and get you out of military jail. They won’t even let me. I’m begging you. Don’t do anything stupid. We want to get out of the war alive, remember?.

But honestly, even if it was something stupid, I still believe that it’s something that could be fixed. You could always fix things, Dean. Remember how you keep fixing my bike? I kept breaking it, thinking I could do stunts with it. Thankfully I never broke more than my leg. How could you not have told me to stop?

I’m good, though. Jess wrote to me. She’ll keep waiting for me to come home. Shit, Dean, I wanna go back home. Wanna see Jess again. I think I’m going to ask her to marry me. You think it’s too soon? Or stupid? I know that you’ve kept mom’s jewelry in your desk drawer at home. I know that her wedding and engagement rings are in there and I also know that you’re the older brother and you can call dibs on it but since you have no one to propose to - and don’t take it as an offense, alright, because you and me both know that I don’t mean it like that - would you mind.. I mean, would it be okay for me to propose to Jess with it? I know mom would have wanted it to, I just wanted to double check with you, is all.

By the way, Anna wrote to me, too. She said that you were not writing back to her. Now, I know that it’s not my place, but maybe you should tell her that you don’t feel anything for her, because even though I love you brother, but I’m not doing the dirty work for you. I have to clean up other people’s messes on a daily basis and I have got no patience left for your mess.

Keep yourself alive, jerk!

Sergeant Sam Winchester

August 17th, 1944

The back of the deuce-and-a-half was uncomfortable to say the least. One and Two platoons were cramped in narrow spaces, and Tran just fell asleep on Jamie’s shoulder. She let him sleep, though. Even though she felt his saliva wetting her jacket. They didn’t get to sleep a lot, and she could hear all the whimpers at night when the men would jerk awake with nightmares. They usually were not able to go back to sleep because they wanted to escape the faces of fallen friends and gaping bullet wounds. War did that, it invaded even the quietest places of your mind, nestled in, and stayed with you.

Jamie didn’t really get a lot of sleep herself, but apart from the dark bags under her eyes, her spirits were still high. She scanned the men around her, looking for the familiar face of Dean and there he was, laughing and joking with Harvelle. When he saw her looking, he grinned.

“Tran!” Dean shouted from across. “Hey! Corporal Tran!”

Jamie shot Dean a look that said so much as it’s ok, let him sleep.

“Tran!” Dean shouted again, waking him up and Tran jerked, slurping up a string of saliva.

“Sorry.” Tran mumbled and she smirked at him, telling him that it was alright. “What’s up, sir?” He shouted to Dean, his hand wiping away the sleep from his eyes.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re not soiling all of Bambi’s shoulder, is all.” Dean replied with a cheeky grin, thinking that he’d done her a favor, but Jamie was having none of it.

“Sir, I can speak for myself, and Tran clearly needed the nap. I haven’t seen him sleeping so peacefully in days.”

She could see that Dean wasn’t impressed with her talking back at him like that in front of his men, but he said nothing. Just curled and uncurled his fingers into fists before he took out the tin of cigarettes and lit up one.

“Bambi, I need to see you when we get off.”

“Shit.” Tran murmured to her. “I’m sorry, Blum. You didn’t have to stand up for me.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be alright.” She said, dismissively, her eyes never leaving Deans.

***

They’ve been waiting for orders as they stopped short of a tiny village. “We’ll be pairing with Easy company.” Dean said calmly as he took a knee to show them the map that was propped on it.

Someone was shouting from the back. “Thank god not Dog!”

“Shut your mouth, private.” Dean growled before he went on. “We’ll be clearing these houses on the west before meeting the rest of the convoy here.” He pointed at the red dot where the trucks would be waiting for them to take them further towards Brest. “Any questions?”

When none was forthcoming, Dean folded the map and put it back into his webbing before he nodded at his men.

“Bambi, I still need to talk to you.” He singled her out and they fell back as Baker and Easy company marched towards their objectives.

“What is it?” She asked him bluntly, even though she probably knew what he’s going to say.

Dean fell into step beside her, his breathing was heavy. “About Tran. Listen, I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t need your help.”

“Just thought that you’d be annoyed that he was drooling all over you, is all.”

She stalled. “Really? Is this what it’s all about? Or are you jealous?”

“No.” It came shooting out of Dean like a bullet. Which, Jamie thought, meant that he probably was. She didn’t get it. They weren’t like that yet, were they?

“It’s fine, Dean. I can take care of myself. Hell, I went through Basic and Saint Lo without your damn help. You even made my life miserable, but I’m still here.” She walked again, faster this time, intending to leave Dean behind. She didn’t have time for this bullshit.

There was the sound of shells up front and they all crouched down. The platoons seeking out their leaders to go over strategy. “Rifle squad, move in on the left flank. The others, move right, prepare to lay down base of fire to support Easy company.”

Jamie was about to jog up to catch up on the rifle squad when Dean held her back. “What now?” She hoped that Dean could hear the annoyance in her voice.

“I don’t want you there.” He just replied, as he pushed her towards the other squad and they move up right.

“Where do you want me, sir?” She made it clear that he couldn’t overhear the annoyance in the tone of her voice.

“No further than five feet away from me.” He said as he stomped away, leaving Jamie to catch up on him and she ran, breathing hard as she finally reached him. “And that’s not negotiable.” He was hissing at her before he crouched down and pulled her with him, their rifle pulled up to their shoulders, as they waited to give fire support.

A mortar hit a couple of feet behind them and Dean shouted “Run!” before he sprinted across the street, his rifle pulled up to fire in the direction of the source. She tagged along and was never more than five feet away from him, as she’d been ordered.

There was another loud hissing, and there it was. She could see the mortar shell that flew high above, as if it was in slow motion. Jame stopped firing and looked at the shell and how it was flying directly at her. Of course that couldn’t happen, but in that moment, it did. Everything moved too slowly, but she couldn’t move. She stood there, frozen in space. All she could hear was a scream, and suddenly, everything went black.

CHAPTER 9

[womenandfilm5]

I Shot Andy Warhol (1996) is a dynamic, true crime, avante garde film that explores the history and complexity of the relationship between famous artist Andy Warhol and radical feminist Valerie Solonas. The true events depicted in this film are told through a mixture of narratives that both highlight the socio-political climate of the 1960s and the struggle for female identifying empowerment. I thought it was particularly interesting that the film was first intended to be a documentary about Valerie Solonas, but the filmmakers could not find enough footage of her, nor any individuals to speak about her. Throughout the film, the various narrative perspectives mirror a documentary styled memoir. Mary Harron tells Valerie’s narrative using a combination of flashback narratives, self recorded home videos of ‘Valerie’ reading from her own Manifesto as it pertains to the current storyline, and an unnamed character reading Valerie’s file referring to her as ‘the patient’. The last narrative technique allows the viewers to gain some context surrounding both Valerie’s intentions and behaviors. The unnamed narrator discloses Valerie’s history with being molested, prostitution, homosexual activity, and ultimately her belief in ‘the natural superiortiy of women over men’. These biographical narratives ultimately illustrate a much bigger picture than just the relationship between the two.  . The key themes highlighted in I Shot Andy Warhol include superiority, ironic male validation, radical feminism + matriarchy, mental illness, revolution, lesbianism, and revenge.  . Valerie’s detrimental motives as a protagonist in this film are driven by her attitudes toward female superiority over men. Valerie’s constant push to educate the masses on her S.C.U.M Manifesto (Society for Cutting Up Men) is bound by the idea that women are biologically superior. Within this superiority complex is a duality of anti-man rhetoric, paired with using men for her advantage when she needs to. I found it ironic that while Valerie is so anti man, a recurrent theme in the film is the chase for male validation; especially Andy. From the first time Andy Warhol’s name is mentioned in the film, Valerie is desperate to get Andy’s attention in hopes that his connections and artistry will help her spread her radical views through media. Valerie constantly pushes her beliefs onto Andy and even gives him the only other copy she has of her screenplay for him to read. Even after begging Andy to read it, he dodges Valerie’s push for production but still holds onto her beloved copy. This stands as a symbol of  Andy still holding a piece of ownership over her but refusing to give her the validation she is chasing. As mentioned in the original report, Valerie’s erratic behavior and radical beliefs stem from a comorbidity of mental illness, likely OCD and Schizophrenia. It is revealed at the end that Valerie is sent to a ‘Hospital for the Criminally Insane’ following the shooting. While it is unclear to the audience whether or not Valerie realizes her diagnosis, Valerie’s mental health is obvious to the other characters. Valerie sees herself as a revolutionary, while others (specifically men) consistently label Valerie as a ‘lunatic’ and insane for her beliefs. There is a wide gap in perspective from Valerie’s view of herself versus other’s interpretation of her.  . The cinematic aspects of the film were what captivated me the most while watching. One recurrent technique throughout the film was the specific and deliberate use of the color red, red lighting in particular.  The first time Valerie visits The Factory trying to find Andy, the lighting surrounding her is a shadowy, transparent red glimmer focused on her face. When Valerie goes to meet with the publisher to sign her book contract, she specifically picks out and wears a red dress. After being ‘excommunicated’ from Andy and his group and going to confront him, there is dark red light surrounding the group as they walk out of a tunnel. However, when Valerie’s face enters the frame to speak to Andy, the red light behind the group disappears and the light shown on Valerie’s face is harsh and bright white. The repetitive incorporation of the color red stands in as a symbol for many emotions and moods, such as: embarrassment, frustration, humiliation, bloodlust, romance, need for validation, and superiority.  . The visual techniques during the party scene at The Factory were especially noticeable. The bright, saturated, revolving and color changing lights stood to amplify the mood of the party for those in attendance. The mixture of light movement paired with diverse colors and patterns added a layer of intoxication to the scene and reflected how the party-goers were feeling under the influence.  . I think the most important cinematic aspect in this film were the deliberate mirroring shots to tell different aspects of the same narrative. During the scene of the party at The Factory, both Andy and Valerie are surrounded by people but standing alone. They both slowly look up and make eye contact with one another from across the room as the camera pans in on each individual. The last scene of the film depicts Andy standing in a crowd surrounded by others, when he hears a popping sound reminiscent of a gunshot. This triggers Andy to turn around as he sees Valerie standing alone directly across the street. The two once again make eye contact, and in the same angle as before, the camera pans into both individuals’ reactions. Andy stares nervously and Valerie disappears after a car passes by. While both shots mirror one another in technique, the emotion and context behind both are drastically different. The first implicates admiration and need for validation, while the final shot indicates fear from Andy and accomplishment from Valerie. . Many aspects of the film are reflective of the time period being portrayed in the film. As mentioned in the original report, this film took place during the Vietnam War in the 1960s, where the socio-political climate was extremely volatile and filled with protest and anti-government and anti-war sentiments. While I do not think anti-war attitudes were presented at the forefront of this film, or even mentioned more than once, I do think that Valerie’s passionate and revolutionary motives were inspired from the political climate during this time period.  . The set design and costumes were also extremely reflective of the 1960s. The ‘retro’ aesthetic of this time period can be found within sets such as the old fashioned classic diner and especially The Factory. A ‘cinema fact’ on the back of the DVD case revealed that Harron and the filmmakers were given permission to reproduce some of Andy Warhol’s paintings and silk screen for the set, but they had to destroy them after filming.  One could argue that the set of The Factory is more reminiscent of Andy Warhol’s artistry, which is ultimately a reflection of his peak during this time period.  . Even attitudes of the characters were reflective of the oppression of certain identities during this time, especially lesbians and trans people. Valerie is consistently degraded by the men around her for being a lesbian, most harshly insulted when she was the only woman in the room. Feminine heterosexual women portrayed in the film were also degraded and stereotyped, but in a hypersexualized way that the men validated as attraction. Degradation towards Valerie came from a homophobic standpoint that was not based on attraction. For example, when Valerie appeared on the television interview, the man rudely demeaning her while discussing the ‘controversial’ topic of homosexuality cited the Kinsey Reports. Debuted in the late 1950s, the Kinsey Reports introduced the concept of sexuality as a spectrum and changed the way a lot of people viewed homosexuality in general, for better or worse.  . I think one thing that stuck out to me the most throughout the course of the film was that it seemed as if S.C.U.M. and its manifesto was inclusive of all womxn identities. Even the ad in the newspaper seeking actors to audition for the screenplay “Up Your Ass” directly welcomed ‘butch dyke lesbians’ and queer people. However, towards the end of the film when Valerie was convinced that Candy had worked with Andy to set her up, Valerie cruelly invalidated Candy’s identity as a transwoman and called her a man. This invalidation is not only misogynistic and exclusive to trans people but is especially demeaning to say to a friend who originally brought you into the scene. At first I was excited and even surprised to see trans representation within the film. Although it was disappointing to see transphobia shine through, especially from Valerie, this type of fear and intolerance was common and is still common surrounding trans identities. . It was fairly hard for me to actually get a physical copy of and view this film, and I believe it was well worth the difficulty. This film is an intimate storyline of a historic and iconic incident that stands to narrate more than just a dynamic relationship. – ECo

[lesbianmonsterlover]

Fem Minotaur x Fem Reader

You didn’t know if it was lucky or unlucky that your little office window faced the big glass wall of the gym across the street,  because while you appreciated the view you got from time to time, it definitely made it harder to work.  There was an incredible looking minotaur woman who led weightlifting classes and coached the powerlifters.  Her broad back was covered in tawny fur, and irregular white spots.  You knew from the times she would correct form that she had a big white splotch on her muzzle and around her eyes, giving her long white eyelashes and a cute pink nose.  You desperately wanted to know what it felt like to have those huge hands caressing over your curves.  You sigh, your little queer heart aflutter, before you’re pulled out of your reverie by the shrill ringing of your office phone.

By the time you return from the early afternoon meeting, where you’re forced to listen to the higher-ups drone on and pat themselves on the back for projects actually managed and completed by workers like you they consider peons, you’ve almost ground your teeth down to nothing.  You collapse into your desk chair and huff, thankful the clock says you’ve only got three more hours before you can go home.  At five on the nose you shut down and clock out, sighing in relief as you walk through the front door of the building and start off down the street to get home.  Your commute isn’t long, but it does tend to be cramped, which can make you even more self conscious of the amount of space you fear you take up.  Sure you aren’t as big as, say, an orc, but it’s not like they can help it!  They’re merely built that way as a species!  You were just a chubby human. 

You make it back to your apartment, your little studio feeling lonelier and lonelier as of late.  You’ve been considering adopting a pet for a while, but have been concerned that your lifestyle would make it hard on an animal companion.  A dog was definitely out of the question, but perhaps now that you’re working more regular hours you can get yourself a cat to come home to.  That’s how you find yourself walking into your local shelter on a warm Saturday, out of your professional clothes and in a flowy, summery dress printed with pale watercolor roses.  The broad smile that crosses your face when you walk into the air conditioned front room gives way to a shy blush when the gorgeous minotaur woman from the gym struts by in a volunteer apron, two large bags of dog food slung over her shoulders.  You miss the greeting from the human behind the counter, which just makes her giggle and send you a knowing wink before repeating herself.  “Welcome, what brings you in today?  Looking for a furry friend, maybe a fuzzy girlfriend?”

The sly addition just makes you blush and stutter back that you were hoping to come by and adopt a cat.  Someone calm and older than a kitten, but still cuddly and playful on their own terms.  Her smile brightens and she perks up.  “Oh I’m so glad to hear you say that!  We have many older cats looking for loving homes, let me get someone to take you into the cat room with a few of our options…”  The smirk on her face almost seems sinister, if her eyes hadn’t been so warm and understanding you may have been concerned, but before you can voice any of this to her she turns and heads into the back, coming back mere moments later with the huge minotaur woman in tow.

You feel tiny as she looks down at you with a warm and professional smile.  You give you a shy grin, cheeks hot, and try to stutter out a greeting.  “Kharya will show you to the back room and give you a run down on some of our tenants, I’d argue you’re best with those little purr machines.  I know how much you love p...cats.”  You’re so busy getting caught up in being so close to this huge beautiful woman, and Goddess if she doesn’t seem bigger and more imposing in real life, that you miss the innuendo and almost-slip-up.  The minotaur, Kharya, gives her coworker a deadpan look before turning and smiling at you, her eyes crinkling, and you want to know what it feels like to pet over her soft pink nose and up the tawny fur of her snout.  The two of you are brought out of staring at each other by the snorting laugh of the human and her mumbled “useless lesbians” which just makes Kharya glare hard at the back of her head.

“Let me show you to the back room where we keep our fully grown cats.”  For the love of all that is holy that voice.  It was a bit higher than you expected from someone so huge, but it suited her.  Her long, snow-white eyelashes suited her, framing warm chocolate eyes.  Her smile is a little shy, she seems as flustered by her coworker as you were.  Your head barely reaches her chest, and you feel intimately aware of her muscles shifting as she walks near you.  Her smile is still soft as she opens the door and gestures for you to enter.  “Just take a seat on the floor and I’ll let a few of these guys out, we’ll see who comes over to take a look and go from there.”  

You take a chance to study her, up close this time, while she releases a few cats into the playroom.  She has two quite cute and dainty little horns curving up and around her ears, it somehow suits her better than hair could, and her strong shoulders stole your attention next as they flexed while she reached up for a particularly high crate.  You’re certainly smitten with her, but try to make sure your gaze is averted by the time she turns around, having opened about half a dozen little doors.  It’s easy as it turns out, because a sweet looking ball of fluff had come out of hiding sometime during your shameless ogling of the woman in front of you.  The black ball of fuzz mewed at you indignantly, pawing at your knee before headbutting and then nuzzling your leg.  

You giggle and scratch the little critter behind the ears, making it purr and drop like a sack of potatoes against your leg.  The giggle morphs into a laugh, matched by a chuckle from Kharya across from you, looking down at you with a fond tenderness in her gaze.  “That’s Sprite, he’s usually a bit of a recluse, but something seems to have gotten his attention.”  Her smile widens, “he isn’t the only one…”  Her gaze is full of open affection, and it makes your cheeks heat.  “You work in the building across from mine, yeah?  I’ve seen you around…”  Your face feels on fire, oh god what do you do?  You weren’t prepared for this, like at all.  You just nod mutely, gazing up at her, but something about your response seems to have been enough for her, since she just laughs and crosses the room to sit next to you, allowing one of the other cats curious enough to leave his enclosure to hop up into her lap and curl up.  You were jealous of that cat for a moment.

“I’ve...I’ve seen you around too.”  Your voice is quiet, but when you glance back up at her you can see she’s fixed you with an unreadable look.  Your fingers nervously skitter around on Sprite’s chin, making the fuzzbutt purr louder and lean further into your soft thigh.  “I’m happy to see you here today though, I’m always too chicken to talk to you.”  

She looks worried, her brow furrowed and her mouth twisted into what you’d guess is a sneer.  “You’re afraid of me?”  The loud peal of laughter from you at least smooths out her face, making her smile fondly down.

“No!  No, I’m not afraid of you.  But...beautiful women make me nervous…”  You’re feeling uncharacteristically bold, reaching your free hand over to touch her hand as you speak, feeling the soft downy fur on the back and trailing your fingers until you feel it fade into the calloused surface of her palm.  She brightens up at that, large brown eyes positively sparkling with delight as she turns her hand over beneath yours, lacing fingers together.  

Needless to say you went home that afternoon with Sprite, apparently short for Soot Sprite, the black void with big green eyes who decided to come flop on your leg.  You may have also left still holding the hand of the large minotaur woman Kharya while the two of you strolled over to the pet store, picking out all of the necessities considering you were starting from scratch.  Just as you were internally figuring out how to get all of this back Kharya offers to help you carry it home.  “Are you sure you don’t mind?  I’m sure I could just have them deliver most of this, I don’t want to bother you any more than I already have!”

She chuckles and nuzzles your cheek, her tongue just peeking out to lick a kiss on the side of your face making you blush.  “Never a bother, besides, what’s the use of all this muscle if I can’t even show off for a cute girl?”  This only makes your cheeks hotter, sputtering a little but agreeing.  

“It isn’t too far, maybe ten minutes, if you’re sure it isn’t a big deal?”  In reply she simply hefts up the large packages with the cat tree, litter, anything heavy really, and allows you to lead the way left carrying Sprite’s crate and a few bags of toys and treats.  The walk is beautiful, and the company only makes it better.  She probes you with questions about where you grew up, your family, what you do for work, and she tells you all about her childhood in the country, her job at the gym, her history as a competitive lifter.  Conversation and laughter are both flowing easily as you slow down in front of your building, biting your lip in consideration.  “Do you maybe want to come upstairs and help get Sprite settled in?”  

You try not to sound too hopeful, gazing up at her a little nervously.  Kharya’s answer is a wide smile and nod.  “Lead the way.”  You grin back at her and turn to key in your door code, holding the front door open for the large woman, who still has to duck to get through the door.  The elevator ride is full of giggles as you try to fit both of you and all the bags into the tiny box, thankful you seem to all come in under capacity.  Your front door opens with a key fob, and you’re thankful it can be read inside the pocket of your dress as you bump your hip up against the door and push down the handle with your elbow.

The ceilings are thankfully high, so while Kharya does have to duck to get inside once in she’s quite comfortable.  She sets down the packages, hardly seeming to have broken a sweat, and smiles down at you sweetly.  She grips your chin between her thumb and forefinger, leaning down to press your foreheads together in an intimate gesture, sharing breath and space.  Pulling back she swipes a kiss across your forehead with her tongue before releasing your face and moving back to the packages.  You stand there dazed for a moment before her voice breaks you out of your reverie.  “Why don’t you open Sprite’s cage and we’ll see if he wants to get out and explore.”  

Your cheeks are still hot, but it seems like you’re always blushing around the beautiful minotaur, so you just nod and go to open the carrier.  He’s out of there immediately, headbutting your face affectionately before gazing around and claiming a spot on a couch cushion near the window in the sun.  “Well...that seems easier than it should have been.”

Kharya glances over at you from where she’s opening the box with the cat tree in it, a full throated laugh coming out as she notices Sprite’s sleeping spot.  She’s full of mirth, her eyes watering with the force of her laughter.  “Oh, wow, yeah, cats usually don’t take like that.  It must be something about you…”  She winks at you flirtatiously, and you giggle and blow her a kiss back, making her eyes widen and then narrow in a playful smirk.

You spend a little while together just getting things set up for Sprite.  The litter box is in the bathroom, the circulating water dish is set up on the tile floor of the kitchen for easy cleanup in case of accidents, there are toys in every room and Kharya has set up the absolutely overly massive cat tower you bought because you wanted to make sure Sprite had enough things to climb.  You and Kharya are now sitting on the couch, Sprite having moved to a lounge chair in a spot much more preferable - where he could nap in the sun undisturbed by the movement of those other pesky creatures around the abode.

The two of you are drinking beer and relaxing after a job well done, Kharya has one massive arm thrown over the back of the couch and you can just feel the heat radiating off of her skin.  It’s quiet, but comfortable, and you’re thisclose to just leaning over to rest your head on her shoulder.  She clears her throat, making you peer up at her, the nervous look on her face simultaneously endearing and heartbreaking.  “So...I’ve kinda been hoping...that maybe you’d be willing to...um...y’know maybe you’d be willing...to go on a date with me?”  She’s studiously avoiding your eyes, although she still has her face turned towards you.  

You giggle and she almost looks crestfallen for a moment before you lean up and press a kiss on her cute pink nose.  “I was kinda hoping that maybe this could count as our first date?  I’d love to go on another…”  She grins and laughs, bringing her arm down from the back of the sofa and wrapping it around your shoulders firmly, pulling you into her side.  “How do you feel about tonight?  Maybe we could play with Sprite and order takeout?  There’s this killer Thai place near here I’ve been craving.”  You worry you might be moving this too fast, but damn if you want to stop this feeling, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you wanted to wait.  Sure, you knew that’s what you should do, what logic would dictate, but you didn’t want to let go of her, afraid that if you did you’d realize this was only some fever dream.  That you’d wake up alone, in bed, no Sprite, no Kharya, just another day of the usual monotony.  

She perks up, leaning down to nuzzle the top of your head.  “Oh it’s like we’re on the same wavelength already!”  Her chuckle is deep, but still feminine, and it makes you just burrow further into her warm, strong side.  “I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship.”

[fallenstarliite]

we are here, we are queer

(pairing: taegi)

In the crowd, amongst people like him and people completely different, Taehyung feels a sense of belonging mingling with his deer-in-the-headlights, first-pride, wide-eyed churning in his stomach. Jimin is clinging to his arm and Jeongguk is behind them, filming everything with a practised expertise.

“See, Taehyung!” Jimin speaks suddenly, as the three of them navigate through the police barriers (both human and metal) to get to the centre of the gathering area. “I told you it’d be fun!”

Jimin looks stunning – shimmering eyeshadow accentuates his eyes and he’s wearing his favourite bondage harness over his shirt, rainbow stickers and bracelets littering his body. Taehyung simply has a small, discrete bi-pin on his black shirt and, looking around at the colourfully dressed people, he wishes that he could have the self-conviction to dress like them.

“I guess…” Taehyung murmurs, “It’s not exactly what I’m used to, though…”

“That’s exactly the point.” Jimin bounces on his toes as he looks for Seokjin in the crowd. “This is challenging what is normal in Korea anyway! Besides, you’re definitely extravagant enough for this lifestyle, you budding actor.”

“If it helps, hyung, the first Pride I went to was in London and I threw up.” Jeongguk pipes up, sending Taehyung an encouraging smile – rainbow painted cheeks puffing up.

“Ewww!” Taehyung exclaims with a wide laugh, starting to feel more comfortable in the push and pull of the colourfully adorned crowd.

Jimin finally spots Seokjin and pulls Taehyung through the throngs of people. “Keep up, Jeongguk!” He calls to his boyfriend hanging back to film them.

“Can you let me be artsy just once?” Jeongguk protests, camera still trained on Jimin and Taehyung. “I want Taehyung’s initiation to be fully documented, for fucks sake. You have no concept of art, Jiminie.”

“Fuck right off, Guk.” Jimin shoots back, neither of them putting any real fire behind their words, before smiling brightly at Seokjin.

“Minnie you look amazing, but not as amazing as me!” Seokjin chuckles with a teasing wink before pulling Jimin into a tight hug. Seokjin, the most self-confident in their group, has gone all out with his make up: blue eyeliner and yellow and pink eyeshadow dusting his eyelids and eyebrows. He was also spectacularly doused in purple glitter.

Jeongguk elbows Taehyung to the side so he can hug Seokjin, the suck up. Taehyung is aware he’s staring at Seokjin wide-eyed, the eldest being a far cry from his usual calm theatre student self.

“Taehyung,” Seokjin gasps, “you came, I can’t believe it!” and Taehyung finds himself pulled into a tight and warm hug.

“Well… yeah, Jiminie said it would be good for me, y’know, self-acceptance and all that.”

Seokjin smiles sympathetically, lifting a hand to rest on Taehyung’s cheek.

“It’s good you’re here, but you need to be more glamorous, honey!” Seokjin unzips his bag and goes rummaging through it.

“I don’t think I need to…” Taehyung points to his bi flag pin with an ounce of nervousness.

Seokjin laughs, not unkindly but with a slight mocking, amused tone. Taehyung flushes deeply, eyes burning and nose tingling.

“You’ve got so much to work with, Tae, I could make you gorgeous.”

Taehyung’s eyes shift to Jimin who is wrapped up in Jeongguk’s embrace and the two are so domestic that it hurts him. He faintly wishes that the ground would open up and swallow him and curses Jimin for persuading him into coming – he’d known that this wasn’t his crowd. God, he feels so stupid and humiliated for not being able to dress like the other queers.

“Jin, I see you’re still heckling people to be more glittery.” A drawly voice interrupts the tense silence that had sank in between Seokjin and Taehyung.

Taehyung turns, startled, to look at the newcomer. He is shorter than Taehyung with fluffy bleached hair, slanting cat-like eyes, and pouty lips and the most surprising is that he has no sign of anything gay on his person. His clothes are black and simple and he just has a single black ring on his right middle finger.

“Yoongi.” Seokjin nods in greeting, deflating a bit in his excitement. “How are you?”

“I’m good, you?” The boy, Yoongi, offers a tight smile and Taehyung – sensing the awkwardness starts to shift to turn to Jimin and Jeongguk. Before he can move, however, Seokjin grabs his wrist gently, preventing him from going quite yet.

“I’m well, and the boy I’m heckling is Taehyung.” Seokjin responds, gesturing to Taehyung.

Yoongi looks at Taehyung with an unreadable expression and Taehyung tries very hard not to be intimidated by him – to little avail. Yoongi, despite his height, commands attention and very easily fills up the space. Taehyung just about manages to offer a small half-smile in greeting.

“Is he your new boyfriend then?” Yoongi asks bluntly.

Taehyung chokes out a surprised laugh before blurting out forcefully, “God, no!”

Seokjin squawks indignantly and Yoongi smiles appreciatively. (Taehyung refuses to acknowledge his stomach swooping low and twisting itself up.)

“As offensive as that was,” Seokjin says, sending Taehyung a reproving glance, “he’s right, Taehyung’s just a friend I’ve known for a while.”

Yoongi tilts his head slightly, a calculating hint entering his eyes. “You never mentioned him to me last year, at all, only Jimin and Jeongguk.”

Taehyung feels a pang of hurt reverberate down his spine and he looks at Seokjin with the hurt eyes of a puppy.

“Don’t look at me like that TaeTae!” Seokjin protests, glaring at Yoongi. “I did mention him to you, just not by name.”

Yoongi looks pensive once more and doesn’t continue the conversation.

“So—um—how do you know each other?” Taehyung hesitates, an accent of insecurity flavouring his tone – not knowing whether he is overstepping a boundary.

“We used to date.” Yoongi doesn’t even look at Seokjin when answering, eyes intently focused on Taehyung. “It didn’t last long, only three or four months.”

“Yep.” Seokjin contributes.

“Cool.” Taehyung shifts his weight a bit before looking around at the large plaza they’re standing in. From where they are, they can only catch a glimpse of the yellow fluorescent jackets of the police guarding the Pride Festival. He continues looking around – at the women dancing freely on the stage, at the homophobes protesting in the surrounding buildings and streets, at Jimin and Jeongguk kissing gently, and finally down at the pin he’d proudly pinned on that morning only to find out that he wasn’t ‘fabulous’ enough for this celebration (according to Seokjin).

“I like your pin.” Yoongi offers, eyes crinkling as he sends Taehyung a reassuring smile. “I think it suits you.”

“Thank you.” Taehyung whispers, not quite believing the intimidatingly beautiful man.

“Don’t you think that Taehyung’s facial structure could be stunning if he would just let me put a tiny bit of glitter?” Seokjin presses and Taehyung is suddenly interested in the floor.

“Nah, sure it might make him more ethereal but look at the boy,” Yoongi says, meeting Taehyung’s confused gaze with a wink, “he doesn’t need makeup to look stunning.”

Warmth spreads down Taehyung’s neck and he mutters something incomprehensible before finally managing to go to Jimin and Jeongguk – Seokjin too busy spluttering to stop him from moving.

When Jimin pulls Taehyung into a tight hug, Taehyung can still feel Yoongi’s gaze on his back.

READ THE REST ON MY AO3 

[humansunshineao3]

Fighting the Good Fight [Ch. 8]

Alec Lightwood just wants to run his Institute in peace.

This is the story that could’ve unfolded if Jace didn’t exist.

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Magnus/Alec, Clary/Izzy

Tags: Jace doesn’t exist, transgender alec lightwood, retelling of the TV show, Internalized Transphobia, Panic Attacks, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Lightwood Siblings Feels, Izzy and Alec are parabatai, Family Dynamics, homophobia

AUTHOR’S NOTE: TRIGGER WARNINGS

HOMOPHOBIA: The fallout from Clizzy's kiss is rough, as you probably all would've guessed. Maryse is a nightmare about it, but Alec calls her out.

EMOTIONAL ABUSE/MANIPULATION: Maryse manipulates/guilt trips Alec into things he doesn't really want to do. It's not fun, but keep in mind Alec does get a happy ending!

TRANSPHOBIA: Maryse is very flippant about Alec's surgery and dismissive of Alec's feelings on the matter. Lydia """"""accepts"""""" Alec but insists that he must get "all the surgery" before she'll consider him her husband/fiance.

INTERNALISED TRANSPHOBIA?: Alec refers to himself as 'not a real man', but he uses air quotes around it - he's being sarcastic/satirical. However, later, Magnus walks in on him wearing a sports bra and he refers to himself as 'not decent' because he's ashamed of his chest etc.

DEPICTIONS OF GRIEF: Simon dies, and Clary is obviously grieving.

RACISM: Lydia is racist. She calls downworlders 'demonic beings' and ignores Luke's concerns and expertise whenever possible. Alec calls her out on it, and Magnus calls her family ancestry out on it... It's iconic.

Previous Chapter 

Episode 8: Bad Blood

Everyone in the room was staring at Izzy and Clary, utterly silent. Alec cringed at the sound of their lips smacking together, not daring to glance at his mother, who had stopped dead in the doorway. After a long, tense moment, the two women in the centre of the room seemed to come back to themselves, and broke apart.

“What did I just do?” Izzy whispered, her wide eyes fixed on Clary’s.

Clary pressed her lips together, her expression warm and relieved. It took her a minute, but Alec saw the realisation dawn on her face as she looked around at the shadowhunters staring at them. “Oh come on,” she laughed nervously, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “It’s the 21st Century.”

Izzy squeezed her eyes shut, and Alec, as freaked out as he was, couldn’t stop himself from leaping over the rail he’d been leaning on and crossing to her side. Izzy’s fingers had turned white from how hard she was gripping onto Clary’s hand, and Alec took her elbow.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I’m proud of you.” He didn’t know what the fuck they were going to do to fix the rage he could sense rolling off their mother over by the door, but he knew that Izzy needed to hear his voice, right now.

“Should I not have…?” Clary asked, the euphoria she’d felt at the kiss totally gone.

“Everyone, get back to work.” Maryse’s voice made all three of them tense, and the shadowhunters who’d been watching and whispering dispersed.

Izzy and Alec looked at each other for a long, long moment, squeezing each others’ hands, and then glanced at the doorway.

Maryse was gone.

“Fucking hell,” Izzy murmured, letting Alec go and pulling Clary into a hug.

Clary rubbed her back, looking over Izzy’s shoulder at Alec with a frown. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

“I’ll go and talk her down,” Alec promised, though he could feel the anxiety blooming hot in his chest as Izzy let Clary go and turned to look at him. “I’ll fix this. You… This was the right thing. This is good.”

Izzy sighed, putting her hand on his chest. “Don’t promise her anything stupid. You don’t owe her a deal. This is my mess to fix.”

“I’ll check in on you later, yeah?” He nodded, unable to lie to her. He knew full well that the minute Izzy had kissed Clary in front of everyone, she’d inadvertently sealed his fate.

Maryse was in the office, and Alec felt ill at the memory of what had happened the last time he’d spoken to his mother, and the last time he was in this room. He didn’t knock, squaring his shoulders as he walked into the room. Maryse was looking out the window, hands knotted tightly together behind her back. Alec perched on the edge of the desk.

“Clary could be a good political match for Izzy if we bring down Valentine.” Alec stated. “Clary is a Fairchild. If she is the one to bring in Valentine she will be one of the most influential people in the Clave overnight. Izzy could do worse.”

“Have you forgotten,” Maryse said coldly, “that Miss Fairchild is a woman?”

Alec sighed, looking up at the bookshelves. It was easier, with the two of them looking away from each other. He could be businesslike, not let his feelings get in the way. “Yes, she is. Which means that Izzy and Clary’s partnership could go down in history. Izzy Lightwood will be remembered forever as the first openly sapphic shadowhunter. You always wanted a place in history.”

“Do you hear yourself, Alexander?!” Maryse sounded almost hysterical. “How on Earth are the Lightwoods meant to go on if Isabelle shacks up with a woman and you transition? Max will be our only hope, if we can hold on that long…”

“We don’t need to pop out babies to matter, mother. Izzy is worth more than her goddamn womb.” Alec insisted, “besides, they could adopt. Get a donor. Whatever. We have options. What we should be focussing on, what you should be focussing on, is making sure that Izzy is happy.”

Maryse shook her head. “Do you think Isabelle will be happy when she’s shut out of Clave missions? Do you think she’ll be happy to lose her career?”

“Oh, come on.” Alec snapped, getting to his feet and walking around the desk to look his mother in the eye. This was long overdue. “Stop pretending that this outrage is for our benefit. You are freaked out at the thought of your precious little girl being queer, just like you can barely look at your fucked up eldest whenever he reminds you that he has a goddamn vagina. Isn’t that right? Come on, mother, admit it.” He taunted, raising his chin. “You hate the sight of us.”

To her credit, Maryse looked horrified at Alec’s words, gripping his shoulders tightly. “I could never hate the sight of either of you. Ever. I’m scared, Alec. The two of you scare me. What you mean. My whole life, all I’ve been focussed on is getting you and Isabelle institutes of your own to run. And I just don’t know how that is going to happen with the two of you both so determined to ruin yourselves. You don’t know the Clave like I do, Alec. The second that your father and I are gone, they will cut you off. We are the only things standing between you and a deruning, do you understand that? They will use any excuse to get rid of the two of you.”

“Why?” Alec demanded, “why are they so threatened by us? We’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Shadowhunter numbers are dwindling, year on year. If people like you see you and Izzy as examples, if more and more shadowhunters start getting into same sex relationships and transitioning, what do you think will happen to the birth rate of shadowhunters? This isn’t just about you and Izzy. The Clave will see it as a threat to the future of our race.” Maryse explained, rubbing up and down Alec’s arms. “If we were mundanes, I would support the two of you with my whole heart. But we don’t have that luxury, Alexander. You have to marry someone. You have to. Soon.”

Alec had to admit, he hadn’t thought of that. It was a horrific, heartless suggestion; that the Clave wanted to keep queer people in the closet, but… He could understand. Shadowhunters were needed to protect mundanes. They needed the numbers. The whole point of being a shadowhunter was that you put your own selfish desires aside for the greater good.

Izzy deserved to have happiness. Alec would have to protect her, work hard, climb to the top, to keep her safe from the Clave. He couldn’t bear to think of her living a lie.

“Who do you have in mind?” Alec asked quietly, taking a step back away from his mother.

Maryse inhaled sharply through her nose, and closed her eyes, letting the relief wash over her. She knew Alec would see sense. “We have a few possibilities. For now, focus on getting the Mortal Cup while your father and I vet the girls. The moment the Cup is in Clave hands, we’ll schedule your top surgery, and…”

“I’m only getting surgery if you let a warlock do it.” Alec told her, “I know you don’t think it’s possible, but I am not risking getting turned into a forsaken in a surgery I’m not even sure I want. That’s the deal. I’ll get top surgery if you find a warlock to do it. I’ll think some more about bottom surgery, look into my options. I promise.”

Maryse pursed her lips, but she could see that Alec wasn’t going to budge on it. “I’ll reach out to Ragnor Fell in Idris and see if he knows of any warlocks with medical training. You’ll feel so much better once you get your breasts removed, Alec, you’ll be so happy. You’ll be healed in no time and then we can start introducing you to some young women in Idris. I heard that the Lovelace girl is looking for a suitor, perhaps…”

Alec tuned out his mother and the excited light in her eyes, trying to focus on not vomiting. Trying to focus on breathing nice and slow. He couldn’t afford to lose his mind again and end up at-

Magnus’.

Alec’s breath caught in his throat, and he felt tears welling hotly in his eyes. He had to stay away from Magnus, he had to make sure he didn’t make another mistake. He had to focus on surgery, his duty, marrying a girl. The moment he had the cup, or the moment his mother knew he had the cup. He’d give himself a few days, to prepare. To mourn the life he could’ve had if he wasn’t a Lightwood.

“I’m late for training,” Alec said, his voice sounding far away to his own ears, and left the room on autopilot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m so glad we got away from that crowd, all those people…” Izzy murmured, tugging Clary into her room, “it’s so intense.”

Clary swallowed hard, sitting on the edge of Izzy’s bed. “You don’t regret it, do you?”

“Everything happened so fast,” Izzy sat down next to her, putting her head on Clary’s shoulder. “I didn’t have time to think. I thought that the demons had you, I thought for sure you were hurt, and then you were there, and looking at me like…”

“Like I care for you?” Clary asked, smiling into Izzy’s hair.

Izzy hummed. “Exactly. I just forgot about everything else; I knew I had to kiss you.”

“Well,” Clary laughed gently, “at least you skipped the awkward coming out dinner.”

Izzy snorted, her arm looping around Clary’s waist as Clary’s hand landed in her hair. “That’s one way to look at it. My parents are going to be furious. And Alec…”

“Hey,” Clary nudged her, ducking her head to make eye contact, “let’s worry about that later, okay? We have the mortal cup, we’re both crazy about each other… Life is good. Sure, maybe tomorrow will suck, but we’ll get through it. Promise.”

“Promise is a strong word, Fray. I’ll hold you to it.” Izzy said, her eyes soft with affection.

Clary held up her pinky finger. Izzy raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s a pinky swear. You lock your pinky fingers together and then promise on it. Damn, don’t shadowhunters have childhoods?”

“Barely,” Izzy smiled, twisting her pinky finger around Clary’s.

“I swear that we will get through whatever bullshit your parents throw at us, and we’ll make sure Alec doesn’t break his back bending over backwards for them.”

“That’s a big ask,” Izzy sighed, snuggling into the crook of Clary’s neck, “he’s got the world’s biggest martyr complex.”

“He’ll be alright.” Clary offered, her voice soft. Izzy’s hair was so soft between her fingers, the dark curls twisting around her knuckles as she slowly raked them through the long strands. Izzy hummed happily, sated and sleepy all of a sudden. “Hey, you want to lie down?”

“Yeah, you’re sending me to sleep.” Izzy laughed softly, pulling away to scoot up the bed, landing with her head on the pillows.

Clary followed, unclipping her bra under her shirt and tugging it out through her sleeve before lying down. “It’s been a long day. We’ll meet up with Alec tomorrow morning and decide what to do with the cup, but for now, we should get some sleep.”

“I’m not gonna argue with that,” Izzy murmured, shifting closer to the other woman and slinging her arm around Clary’s waist. “I hope you’re a cuddly sleeper.”

“I can cope with it for you,” Clary smirked, knowing full well she was going to gently roll away the moment Izzy fell asleep. They lay facing each other, Clary’s fingers drawing gentle circles up and down Izzy’s back as Izzy stroked the soft skin of Clary’s waist where her shirt had ridden up. Their feet were tangled together, and Clary sighed out loud at the calm that washed over her. Perhaps she’d been a tad touch-starved.

Izzy was wide awake, now. She’d been so ready to fall asleep, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how soft Clary’s skin was, how pretty she looked with her eyes closed. Her eyelashes were so long, brushing against her cheeks. Izzy was struck with the absurd urge to squish the other woman’s face between her hands, and she smiled slightly, burrowing her nose into Clary’s cheek, her arm tightening around the other woman’s middle.

“God, you really are a cuddler,” Clary teased, the flat of her hand warm against Izzy’s back.

“Deal with it, Fray, you pinkie promised to never leave me.”

“That’s not exactly what the pinky promise was, Iz,” Clary snorted, brushing her lips against Izzy’s forehead.

“Well, you’re stuck with me, so suck it up.”

Clary laughed, hitching her leg over Izzy’s thigh. “Alright, alright. I’ll deal.” It wasn’t that it was unpleasant, being this close to Izzy, but Clary knew it would be difficult to sleep with Izzy’s body heat radiating into her.

It was worth it to hear the long, happy hum that Izzy let out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think we should give the Cup to the Clave. We could use a fake to lure Valentine.” Izzy suggested the next morning, hands on her hips. “It’s too dangerous to dangle the real thing in front of him; if he got hold of it, it’d be the end of the downworld for sure.”

Clary shook her head. “If he realises it’s a fake before we get away from him, he’ll kill us all for sure. He’s no idiot, is he?”

“I’d rather him kill us than the entire downworld.” Izzy shrugged, “it would be a low price to pay.”

“No-one’s dying.” Alec insisted, staring at the screen that monitored the wards around the institute. “I hate to say it, but for now, I agree with Clary. The cup should be kept here, secretly. If no-one knows it’s here, it can’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“But you don’t think we should use it, do you?” Izzy asked, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Alec pressed his lips into a hard line. “I haven’t decided yet. All I know is that Clary has to bring in Valentine.”

“Why me?” Clary frowned.

“Because if you bring in Valentine, the Clave will consider you a hero, and you and Izzy will have an easier time of it. You and Izzy need to take the credit for this mission.”

“What about you? You need the favour with the Clave more than us if you’re going to date Magnus.” Izzy pointed out. Alec looked sharply at her.

“Forget Magnus. I can take him or leave him; you two need to be protected.” Alec insisted, running his hand through his hair.

“Uhhh… No. That’s bullshit.” Izzy argued. “You care about Magnus like I care about Clary. If I get my happy ending, you’re getting yours too.”

Alec groaned softly, shaking his head. “That’s not how this works, Iz. Something has to give, we have to compromise somewhere.”

“Hey,” Clary interrupted, catching Izzy’s elbow before she could launch into a tirade, “we’ll figure out what to do about our personal lives later. For now, we have to decide whether we’re going to go after Valentine by ourselves or involve the Clave.”

Before either Lightwood could open their mouth to argue their point of view, a claxon started going off in the ops centre. Alec looked back at the monitor.

“A demon-blooded creature tried to cross the wards.” He noticed, grabbing his bow. “Let’s go and check it out.”

Izzy and Clary followed him, taking angel blades off the weapons rack as they went. The three of them descended the stairs at the front of the institute, weapons raised and ready, their bodies coiled tight with tension. Izzy spotted him first, the vampire from the Hotel DuMort who’d let Simon go. He was standing in the shadows, carrying something big. Izzy wordlessly nudged Alec and Clary and pointed to his silhouette.

“Don’t shoot!” The vampire called, “I have something you want.”

Alec frowned, and lowered his bow slowly. “Come into the light.” He ordered, and the three of them watched as the vampire walked into the path, under the glow of the streetlamp.

He was carrying a body.

“I didn’t kill him!” The vampire insisted, walking towards them. Izzy growled under her breath, but Alec put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

“Is it a mundane?”

“It’s Simon!” Clary screamed, her stomach dropping to her feet. The angel blade she’d been brandishing clattered to the floor as she sprinted towards the vampire, her green eyes wide with shock as she took in the pale stillness of her oldest friend, cradled in the vampire’s arms. “No… No… This isn’t real…”

“Clary,” Izzy said her name like a prayer, going to the redhead’s side. “I’m sorry.”

Alec hung back, regarding the vampire suspiciously. “Why did you bring him here?”

“I knew the mundane was important to the shadowhunters. And I want to expose Camille as the monster she is. My name’s Raphael Santiago. You need to arrest Camille.” Raphael insisted, “your pet mundane is not the first she’s killed.”

“Alright, let’s… Let’s get him inside,” Alec breathed, avoiding looking at Clary, who was sobbing into Izzy’s shoulder. “We’ll put him in the morgue; no-one will look there. Mr Santiago, if you could join us. You’re going to need to answer some questions.”

Raphael nodded, handing Simon off to Alec. “I’ll co-operate fully with your investigation.”

“Come on, Clary, let’s go inside,” Izzy coaxed Clary off her shoulder, squeezing her hand as they followed Raphael and Alec through the side door and down to the morgue.

Alec was used to death. As acting head of the institute, he’d seen a lot of it, investigated dozens of murders, but he couldn’t deny that he felt a stirring of genuine sadness at Simon’s passing. He glanced down at the mundane’s face as he placed him gently on the table, Clary rushing forward with a cardboard box to support his head. Simon had been kind to him, even when Alec pushed him away. He’d been a little clueless and sometimes got in the way, sure, but Alec had to admit to himself that he’d miss his anxious chattering.

Of course, Simon’s behaviour over the last couple of weeks made sense now. He must have gotten hooked on vampire venom when he was held at the Hotel DuMort. They should have noticed.

“People will be wondering what we found outside the perimeter,” Alec said quietly as Clary started stroking Simon’s hair. “I’ll go and tell them that we didn’t find anything. Nobody will come down here, you’ll have your privacy. Izzy, can you take a statement from Mr Santiago?”

Izzy nodded, and Alec headed back upstairs, his heart heavy. He’d failed Simon.

“I may be a vampire,” Raphael drawled, looking around the morgue, “but I was raised a good Catholic. The mundane deserves justice.” He crossed himself over Simon’s body, and Izzy rubbed Clary’s back.

“The vampires breached the Accords. This could be grounds for war if the Clave finds out.” She told Raphael, her eyes narrow.

Raphael regarded her coolly. “The vampires were not behind this. It was Camille. I have witnesses that will attest to that. She attacked Simon on her own; we thought that he was going to be a simple hostage. She was the one who bit him and got him hooked on venom.”

“Of course you would say that,” Izzy’s chest was heaving with emotion, “you don’t want to be implicated.”

“I could have gotten rid of the body and you’d never have found him. But instead I brought him here. The mundane was annoying, but he was brave. Even had the guts to try and stab me,” Raphael smiled faintly at the memory. “Like I said, he deserves justice, and I don’t want trouble with the shadowhunters.”

Izzy pursed her lips. Raphael had a point, but she also had a feeling that there was more in it for Raphael than justice.

“I warned him to stay away, but it was too late. Camille had given him a taste of her blood and he kept coming back for more. It was only a matter of time before she killed him.”

Clary looked up from Simon’s face with tears in her eyes. “The only reason he ever got a taste of Camille’s blood was because you brought him to her. You kidnapped him, you brought him to Hotel DuMort, you delivered him to a fucking sadistic vampire bitch with a knack for killing people and you think you’re totally blameless?!” She shouted, half-bent over Simon’s body. “You’re almost as bad as she is.”

“I never meant for this to happen. The mundane’s death will be on my conscience for…”

“His name is Simon!” Clary yelled, casting her eyes back down to his body. “Simon… please come back, please…”

“There is…” Raphael took a seat a nearby bench, his hands on his knees, “a way.”

Clary raised her head. “A way for him to come back?”

“Clary, no… Don’t listen to him,” Izzy urged, shaking her head.

“No, I have to! Can we bring Simon back?”

Raphael nodded. “He’s a fledgling. He drank Camille’s blood, so he’s in a state of transition. He could be resurrected. All we’d have to do is bury him and wait for him to emerge.”

Clary swallowed hard. “So I could have Simon back?” Her heart began to race, and she swiped at her tears with the back of her hand. “Alive and breathing.”

“Clary, no, he wouldn’t be the same. He’d be a vampire,” Izzy explained. He wouldn’t be alive or breathing. It would be awful for him, he’d be out of control, unable to think past the bloodlust. He wouldn’t be your friend anymore.”

Raphael snorted. “You people really believe everything the Clave tells you, don’t you? Simon would be overwhelmed for a few days, but with the support of the clan he would be his annoying, nerdy self in a week.”

“You don’t know that!” Izzy retorted, “you can’t possibly know that.”

“I’m sorry, which one of us has actually been turned and which one of us has read about it in books?” Raphael spat. When Izzy didn’t respond, he turned his attention back to Clary. “It’s almost sunrise, so I have to go. Simon must be turned into a vampire tonight or staked through the heart to put him to rest.”

Clary swallowed hard, sniffing back tears. “And if I do neither?”

“His soul will be trapped for eternity.” Raphael answered, getting to his feet. “You have until sunrise to decide what to do with Simon. Whatever you decide, I hope that you will be sure to arrest Camille for his murder.”

Izzy breathed in slowly. “We’re not interested.”

“No, we are. Izzy, let me think about this.” Clary insisted, looking over her shoulder at the other woman. “This is my best friend, he’s my responsibility. It’s because of me that he’s dead, it’s my choice.”

Izzy sighed in resignation, and nodded. She knew that she’d feel the exact same way if it were Alec, at the end of the day.

“Here’s my number,” Raphael handed Clary a business card, “let me know what you decide to do.”

The moment Clary nodded he was gone, only a soft breeze left behind where he’d sprinted away. Clary breathed out a shaky sigh, and looked back down to Simon’s face. What would he want?

“Clary, I have to go talk to my parents, but I can make an excuse if you need me here,” Izzy told her gently. She’d ignored the text for the past ten minutes, but now that Raphael was gone she didn’t feel as unable to leave Clary’s side.

“Go,” Clary said quietly, “I want some time alone with him anyway.”

Izzy squeezed her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her hair, before making her way up the stairs to the offices. Alec had texted her telling her that their parents wanted to discuss something with them. As if today could get any worse.

The three of them were already sitting in awkward silence when Izzy made it to the office. Alec was sitting on the couch, and their parents were stood together behind the desk. Izzy nodded in apology to the two of them before quickly taking a seat next to Alec.

“Now that everyone’s here,” Robert eyed Izzy warily, “we have some things to discuss. Isabelle, your mother told me what happened with Miss Fairchild.”

Izzy swallowed hard, reaching for Alec’s hand. He took it and squeezed it tightly. “I care about her.”

“That much is obvious,” Robert nodded, eyes on the desk in front of him. “But you have to understand the implications for the rest of us if you decide to pursue a relationship with her. If you do go ahead and choose to be with Miss Fairchild, then the four of us have to depend on Max to give us a political union. Now, that would mean-”

“Clary is from a pure shadowhunter family; why is she not a viable political match?” Izzy demanded, though she knew the answer.

“Because a viable political match is not viable if you cannot produce an heir.” Robert answered patiently. “Now, it is not the act of homosexuality that worries me, I’m not homophobic. I just-”

Alec and Izzy both snorted, glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes.

“Listen to your father,” Maryse told them severely. “As I explained to Alec yesterday, the Clave will not accept couples that cannot produce children purely because we need the numbers to survive. Now, luckily for you and the rest of us, Alec has agreed to an arranged marriage.”

“You did what?!” Izzy exclaimed, ripping her hand out of Alec’s. “You promised me you wouldn’t promise them anything stupid!”

Alec grimaced. “Technically I didn’t.”

“Alec, you can’t. Are you fucking insane?!”

“This is Alec’s decision,” Robert pointed out, “and he made it for all of us. I for one am proud of his self-sacrifice in this matter. It won’t be easy for you, kid, I get that. I know you have a lot of anxiety about surgery, but I’m sure that you’ll be happier in the long run.”

Alec kept his head down, not willing to look any of them in the eye. He heard Izzy sniffle next to him, and his chest tightened.

“You’re going to force your son into dangerous surgery he doesn’t want, marry someone he doesn’t love, and you have the audacity to say that he’ll be happier for it? Fuck the fuck off, Dad.” Izzy stood up, her eyes teary but determined. “You disgust me. The both of you disgust me. You don’t know either of us, not really. You don’t give a shit whether we’re happy or not. You just want to cling onto power. That’s all that any of this is about. The only reason you ever accepted Alec was because it was good for the family image to have a firstborn son to carry on the family name, because that matters more than anyone’s wellbeing. Honestly, I would rather get deruned and kicked out of this fucking institute than watch Alec throw his life away on some prissy Idris society girl. I won’t fucking do it, I won’t!”

“I want to, Iz.” Alec said quietly. “I want to do this.”

Izzy deflated a little, looking down at her brother. “You don’t mean that.”

“All I ever wanted was to be normal.” Alec pressed his lips together. “I just want to run an institute. I want a career, and a family. I want those things. And I can have them. We’re going to find a warlock doctor to operate so the risks will be minimal, and… I promise, I’m okay with doing this for you, for all of us. It’s my duty. It’s my honour to fulfill it.” Alec reached for her hand. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I didn’t want to do it.”

Izzy’s lower lip wobbled. “But Magnus…”

“Who’s Magnus?” Maryse demanded, but the siblings ignored her.

“It never could have worked. It’s okay. I’m sure that I’ll get along great with whoever I end up marrying. We’ll have a solid relationship that isn’t all dramatic and romantic, it’ll work for me. So please, calm down. I’m fine.” Alec smiled weakly. “I need your support in this, Iz.”

Part of Izzy wanted to slap some sense into him, but the bigger part wanted to bury her face in his chest and cry and thank him for sacrificing his happiness for hers. She could never, ever repay him for what he was about to do for her; the least she could do was be there for him on the next steps of this fucked up journey he was taking. She took his face in her hands. “I love you so much, Alec. You know that, right?”

Alec nodded, his smile a little more genuine, and stood up to gave her a hug.

Maryse and Robert looked at each other, relieved that Alec had managed to talk their daughter round. “There is one more thing,” Robert told the two of them, which made them pull away from each other and sit back down on the couch. “The Clave is concerned that Miss Fairchild is corrupting the professionalism of our institute. After they heard about the display in the ops centre, they decided to send an envoy.”

“They’ll be coming to observe us, how we operate, and to take over the investigation into Valentine. Mostly they’re coming to scrutinise our leadership, so you two need to make sure not to do anything to cause the Clave to doubt us.” Maryse insisted.

Alec squeezed his eyes shut. Of course. As if the past few days hadn’t been shitty enough. Of course the Clave would send an envoy when they’ve got a vampire fledgling hidden in their morgue.

“When are they coming?” Alec asked tonelessly.

“Any time in the next couple of days,” Robert answered, straightening his tie. “Alec, I know I don’t have to remind you not to out yourself while they’re here. Only a few people in the Clave know about you, and the less people in Idris gossiping about you, the better your chance of finding a marriage.”

Izzy glared at their father as he walked out of the room, clamping her jaws shut so she wouldn’t yell again. Alec looked dead inside; he needed her attention more. “It’s gonna be okay, Alec. We’ll get through this.”

“Yeah,” Alec sighed heavily, standing up from the couch. “It can’t possibly get any worse, after all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Clary, please, please, answer the phone. I can't take it anymore, I have to go to Camille. Something's happening to me, I feel like I'm losing my mind. I need to know. Camille could have answers. I don't know what else to do. Please, please pick up the phone."

Clary sniffed back another round of tears as the message finished, and she looked back down at Simon's body. "I'm so sorry, Simon. This is all my fault. If I'd never gotten involved with the shadowhunters, you'd never have met Camille." She shook her head, rubbing her knuckles into her eyes. "I have to bring you back. I can't... I can't let you go, I need you. Your Mom needs you. I have to bring you back. You understand, right? This wasn't your time, it's not right. It's not fair."

She paused, like she was expecting someone to answer. There was no-one else in the room; Clary was sitting there alone, clutching Simon's cool hand. She took a shaky breath, and nodded to herself.

"Yeah, I'm gonna bring you back. I have to."

Izzy would have a lot to say about it, Clary knew, but she couldn't do anything else. She slipped Raphael's business card out of her pocket and sent him a message, telling him to meet her in the nearby cemetery at sundown, and to bring a shovel. He texted back mere moments later to tell her she had made the right decision.

She didn’t bother replying to Raphael, and instead called the one person she knew would stand by her side no matter what.

“Clary?” Luke answered on the second ring, as dependable as always. “Are you alright? Is there a problem with the Cup?”

Clary swallowed hard, trying not to let the pressure in her eyes build into tears again. “Luke, something terrible has happened. Simon’s… H-he’s dead. Simon’s dead!” She whimpered, pressing her hand to her mouth.

There was a shocked silence on the other end of the phone. “I’m so sorry, Clary.” Luke said, after a moment. “How did it happen?”

“Camille from the Hotel DuMort got him addicted to her blood. He went looking for a fix and she killed him. In cold blood.”

Luke let out a snarl that was definitely not human in origin. “There have been rumours about her for years. You want me to have the wolves bring her in?”

“I just… I need to talk to you about becoming a downworlder.” Clary said quietly, “you’re the only one I know who’s been through it.”

“You’re thinking of burying Simon and letting him turn?” Luke guessed. He sighed when Clary didn’t answer. “It’s hard. He could lose his family. But… If he has you… Then I think that he could do it. If it wasn’t for the friendship of your Mom, I never would have made it as a wolf. But thanks to her, I did okay.”

“You did more than okay, Luke,” Clary sniffled, smiling sadly. “You’re the alpha.”

Luke chuckled. “Thanks, kiddo.”

“So you think I should turn him?”

“I think that if you do turn him, it should be because it’s what Simon would want. Not what makes it easier for you.” Luke answered. “Uh, I have to go… The wolves are restless, I think there’s something encroaching on our territory… I’ll meet you later, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Clary said softly, before hanging up the phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Max, where do you think you're going?" Alec spotted Max skulking around the edge of the ops room, looking guilty.

Max turned to look at him, a sheepish look on his face. "I want to use a real weapon for training. I'm sick of those stupid wooden daggers, they're rubbish."

"When Izzy says you're ready, you can use real weapons, but until then you have to listen to what we tell you." Alec pointed out, squatting down so he was eye level with his brother. "I did the exact same thing as you when I was a kid, stole a weapon to practise with, and look..." Alec held up his hand, showing Max a faint scar on his palm.

"Did it hurt?" Max asked.

"Oh, yeah. A lot. Had to have stitches and everything." Alec told him, and Max grimaced, taking a small dagger out of his pocket and putting the hilt in Alec's hand. Alec smiled, and ruffled Max's hair.

They both looked up as they heard a portal forming in the doorway, and Alec's stomach dropped to his feet as Valentine sauntered out with a faint smile on his face. Shoving Max behind him, Alec unglamoured his bow and fired an arrow right at Valentine's face.

To Alec and Max's horror, Valentine caught it in midair effortlessly.

As Alec notched another one, Valentine pulled out his stele and slipped it across a glamour rune. Alec dropped his arms as the silhouette of Valentine obscured and was replaced by a severe-looking blonde woman, dressed in a practical gray business suit.

"I'm Lydia Branwell," she announced, "envoy from the Clave."

Alec and Max looked at each other, their eyebrows raised in matching expressions of shock. Lydia walked towards them and held out her hand towards Alec. "Yes, welcome to the New York Institute. We didn't expect you until tomorrow. That was… Quite the entrance."

"I wanted to test your reactions," Lydia answered, shaking Alec's hand. "You must be Alexander Lightwood."

"Yes, sorry, that's me. My parents are in the office, I can take you if you'd like."

“No need, I’m here,” Maryse spoke up, walking down the steps towards them. Izzy was hot on her heels, still looking emotionally drained from the events of the day.

“Maryse, the Clave has instructed me to take temporary control of this Institute, just until we can ascertain what exactly has gone wrong here.” Lydia explained placidly, and Alec swallowed hard, exchanging a worried look with Izzy.

“Well, how on Earth are you supposed to assess our leadership if we are no longer the leaders?” Maryse demanded, folding her arms.

Lydia made herself welcome, walking across the ops centre to look at the various screens showing demon activity and shadowhunter movements, pointing her stele at the monitors every now and then. “You can take any issues up with the Clave. I’m just here to assess what I see. And in order to do that, I’ll need full clearance.” She looked around, frowning as she noticed a very notable absence. “Where is Clarissa Fairchild? I was under the impression that Alexander had been tasked with monitoring her.”

Alec tilted his head to the side. “It’s Alec, and at present she’s in the field. Training with the rest of our interns. I was headed out to go and check on them when you arrived.”

Lydia scoffed, walking towards Alec slowly. “You’re telling me that you’ve allowed Clarissa Fairchild, Valentine’s daughter, out and about on the streets of New York?”

“Isn’t she also your cousin?” Izzy pointed out scathingly.

Lydia turned to look over her shoulder at the other woman. “Distant cousin,” she sneered. “Get her back here as soon as possible. She will not be allowed outside of the institute as long as I’m in command.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Maryse assured her, “Miss Fairchild is in good hands.”

“Oh, I hope so, for your sake.” Lydia replied coldly.

Alec’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, making him jump a little. Everyone who ever texted him was in the room, except Magnus. He fished his phone out of his pocket, surprised to see a message from Luke. His eyebrows creased as he read the message, and he jogged over to the monitor.

“Here’s something you should see,” he murmured, bringing up the satellite imaging over the docks. “Something has attacked the Jade Wolf, where the New York pack live. Luke Garroway and his wolves managed to take it down, but they have no idea what it is. Most likely it’s one of Valentine’s experiments.” Alec flicked the photos Luke had sent him from his phone to the screen in front of them. The humanoid was grey and bled green viscous fluid, and was very clearly dead.

“The werewolves’ headquarters? You’re in contact with Lucian Greymark?” Maryse looked utterly confused.

“It’s inappropriate for a wolf to have direct contact with a shadowhunter. Mr Greymark should have reported this to the Clave.” Lydia pointed out.

“And it would’ve taken the Clave a week to send someone,” Alec snapped. “It’s my job to protect the mundanes and downworlders of this city from demonic beings, and that’s what I’m going to do. Has the Clave got a problem with that, Miss Branwell?”

Lydia’s eyebrow quirked. “Downworlders are demonic beings.”

Alec laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, great, just what we need, another heavy handed racist running this place looking for another heavy handed racist.”

“Alec-” Maryse warned.

“No! I’m going to take a look at this thing. You can come with me or not, I don’t give a shit. I’m doing my job, and if the Clave and Little Miss Valentine here have a problem with it, you can kiss my fucking ass. See you.” Alec turned on his heel, leaving Izzy, Maryse and Lydia staring after him in disbelief.

After a moment, Lydia trotted after him, catching up with him at the door. “I’m not a racist, you know.”

Alec said nothing, just looked up at the sky as he slowed his pace to allow Lydia to walk beside him without jogging.

“I admire your values but you have to follow protocol, that’s what got you in trouble with the Clave.” Lydia pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s why the Clave hates me. Because of my passion and unorthodox methods.” Alec muttered sarcastically.

Lydia frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Alec’s eyebrow quirked. “You really don’t know?”

“Oh, you mean because your parents used to be in the Circle?” Lydia asked grimly. “I’m sure they don’t judge you based on-”

“Wait.” Alec stopped in his tracks. “My parents used to be in the Circle?!”

Lydia’s eyes widened, and she looked at Alec apologetically. “Did they conceal that from you?”

“I… They were in the Circle?” Alec had always known that his parents had a certain level of disdain for downworlders, but he didn’t think it was any worse than any other shadowhunter family… Apparently he was wrong.

“Yes, but they turned against Valentine before he fell. They were double agents at the end of the uprising, so they were spared of punishment.” Lydia explained, “they were… I suppose you could argue that they also helped bring Valentine down.”

It all made sense now, Alec realised. The pressure, the way that Maryse and Robert had sought to make sure that all three of their children kept their noses squeaky clean, why they were so keen to make Alec into the perfect heir… They wanted redemption. They wanted Alec to make people forget their dark past.

They were using him to cover up their mistakes.

“It doesn’t change how I feel about the Lightwoods,” Lydia insisted, taking his elbow. Alec pulled it out of her grasp, his nose wrinkling a little. “Your family has always had a strong alliance with mine. They’ve been a powerful force in the shadow world, and praised for their devotion. I admire that.”

“Devotion?” Alec laughed. “Some devotion.” The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and Alec glowered, looking away with a cough. “It shouldn’t have surprised me. It figures, really.”

“Anyway,” Lydia murmured as Alec started walking off again, grappling for a change in subject, “ I can see why all the girls in Idris are clamouring to meet you. You’re very… Tall. And brooding. I’m told that’s what girls are supposed to like.”

“And you don’t?” Alec asked, eyes flicking around the shipping containers as they passed into the docks. For all they knew, another one of those monsters could still be lurking around.

Lydia shrugged. “I’ve already had my love story. And I hear yours is just beginning…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alec had honestly never been so uncomfortable in his life.

“You’re looking for a wife. Or did I hear wrong?”

Shit.

“Uhhhhh…”

Lydia smiled, tangling her fingers together behind her back. “Let me guess. Not your idea?”

“Not even close,” Alec snorted.

“My parents tried to set me up too. Luckily I actually loved the guy they chose.” She explained. “But… He passed away last year. We were going to run the Lisbon Institute together, but then it was all ripped away. My love… My dream job...”

“I’m sorry,” Alec answered, the silence between them growing heavy. “Is the marriage thing the only rumour about me in Idris?” He pressed tentatively, watching his feet as they walked along.

“It’s the only one I’ve heard. Why?”

Alec pursed his lips, glancing over at her. “You sure you want to know?”

Lydia shrugged, though curiosity was evident in the way her eyes were darting to his face and away, over and over again. “I’m not here to judge you personally, just your leadership skills.”

“We’ll see,” Alec muttered, stopping and folding his arms. “I’m transgender. I don’t have a dick. I have boobs. I’m,” he raised his fingers in quotation marks, “not a real man.”

“Oh…” Lydia looked puzzled, her eyes sweeping down and back up Alec’s body. “I see.”

“My parents are pressuring me into surgery and marriage so I can be a useful heir,” Alec looked away from her, the confusion on her face making him anxious. “They don’t want to tell my future wife about it. It feels like lying. Well, it is lying, by omission. But then no-one would want me like this, so… What can you do?”

“That’s not true,” Lydia said quietly. Alec looked back at her, raising his eyebrow. “It wouldn’t bother me. And… Not every shadowhunter woman is particularly bothered about having children, so… You never know.”

Alec frowned. “Why are you trying to spare my feelings?”

“I know I made a bad first impression but I’m really quite liberal,” Lydia sniffed, shrugging a little as she started walking once more. “I figure what people do in private is none of my business. You’re a good shadowhunter, devoted to your family, and… You look like a man to me. So… What’s the difference?”

Alec watched her for a moment, rooted to the ground with a nauseating mixture of shock and unease. After a moment of inexplicable fear, he remembered himself, and rushed after her into the Jade Wolf. Luke was looking at Lydia with open distrust, but he relaxed a little as he saw Alec come through the door. Lydia was already bent over the creature on the floor, apparently having ignored the werewolves hovering uneasily in their own space.

“Hi, Luke. We came as quickly as we could.” Alec shook the alpha’s hand, nodding briefly to him before joining Lydia at the creature’s side.

“Honestly I didn’t expect you until tomorrow. Thanks for coming, Alec.” Luke answered. “It looks like a forsaken, but-”

“It definitely used to be a human, and it has runes. It’s a forsaken.” Lydia assessed, and Luke gave Alec a meaningful look.

“As I was saying, it was a lot stronger than your average forsaken. It took five wolves to take that thing down. And it seemed to be after something, it seemed focussed, like it had a plan. Why would a forsaken wander in here by itself? Not like it fancied some Moo Shu… This is Valentine’s work, no doubt. I think he’s after me. I used to be his parabatai, until he literally fed me to the wolves. Would make sense for him to want to get rid of me now that he’s gaining power again.”

Lydia hummed, not looking up at Luke as he spoke. “We’ll take the body back to the institute, do a full autopsy.”

“Hold up.” Luke put his hand out, and Lydia finally raised her eyes to look at him, “I get that I called you… Well, I called Alec… But what I didn’t want is someone to come down here and just take over. I’m trying to catch Valentine, this body could help the pack find him.”

“Coming in and taking over is kind of Lydia’s thing,” Alec told him, the two men quirking eyebrows meaningfully at each other as Lydia’s gaze swept over the body on the floor.

“I know I come across as abrasive!” Lydia said crisply, “but we all want to catch Valentine, and we have better resources than you do here in this… Restaurant. We’re all on the same side, here.” She made eye contact with Luke for the first time since she walked in. “Can we agree on that?”

Alec nodded at Luke. “We have an expert forensic pathologist, highly trained in all the creatures of the shadow world. We’ll tell you what we find.”

“If it doesn’t compromise the security of the Institute,” Lydia amended quickly, and Alec sighed.

Luke pursed his lips. “Fine. You win.”

Back at the institute, Alec and Lydia heaved the forsaken corpse onto the examiner’s table. Lydia bent over it, looked at it more closely. “We need to make sure magic wasn’t used to create this,” she told Alec, “are you on good terms with the nearest High Warlock, as you are with the werewolf alpha?”

Alec pursed his lips. “I know a High Warlock. I’m not sure if he’s the closest one, but he maintains our wards and has helped us in our efforts to bring down Valentine. He’s trustworthy.”

“As trustworthy as warlocks ever are,” Lydia sighed, straightening up. “Go on, who is he?”

“Mag-” Alec swallowed hard. He sensed it was a bad idea to bring Magnus here, with Lydia overseeing everything, but Magnus really was the best warlock Alec knew of who’d come on short notice. “Magnus Bane.”

Lydia hummed, a smile appearing on her face. “You know, I must admit, I admire Bane’s work. My ancestor was there when Bane created the portal. It’s a treasured family story.”

“Oh. Wow, I had no idea Magnus created the portal.”

“You’re on first name terms? So you know him well, then?” Lydia asked, tilting her head to the side curiously.

“Yes, yes, sort of… Magnus is very, um… Quite magical.” A beat of silence passed between them, and Alec glanced at Lydia’s expression, feeling his cheeks heat. “You know, he’s very good… At magic. Very impressive.”

“So I’ve heard…” Lydia said slowly, her eyes slightly narrow as she looked Alec up and down, like she had when he told her that he was transgender. “Anyway… Send him a fire message. While I’m sure your sister is a very capable pathologist, I imagine Mr Bane will be able to see things that she won’t.”

Alec nodded, grateful for the excuse to get the hell out of there.

He needed to work some shit out, preferably on a punching bag.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus was disappointed when he portalled to the institute and Alec wasn’t there to greet him. He’d been hoping, since the fire message bore Alec’s signature, that it was Alec who wanted to see him, but instead a short, slightly evil-looking blonde person advanced on him with their hand stuck out. Magnus almost leapt straight back into his portal and went home.

“I’m Lydia Branwell, envoy from the Clave,” they told him, and Magnus quirked an eyebrow at her, tentatively taking her hand. “We have a corpse for you to look at.”

“Right…” Magnus said slowly, the name Branwell ringing a bell, but then most shadowhunter family names did. “I assume I’m going to be paid for my expertise?”

He was not doing this for free unless Alexander was involved.

“Of course, of course!” Lydia insisted, “the Clave would never take your services for granted, Mr Bane.”

Magnus fought the urge to scoff. “Of course not,” he answered smoothly, allowing Lydia to lead the way to the autopsy room.

“I just wanted to say, your work on the portal was incredible, it changed the shadow world forever. My ancestor was actually there when you-”

“Oh, yes. Cecil Branwell. Yes… That’s why your name is familiar...” Magnus nodded, “if I recall, he attempted to take credit for it,” he mused, “and only agreed to put my name in the history books because I threatened to curse his firstborn…”

He smirked at the look of horror on Lydia’s face.

“I’m joking, Miss Branwell. I never threatened to curse his firstborn.” He assured her, and she laughed nervously.

“I was going to say…”

“I actually just threatened to expose his admittedly impressive collection of werewolf porn.” Magnus hummed, leaving Lydia standing shocked outside the laboratory as he glided inside.

He was happy to see Isabelle standing there all dressed up in her lab clothes, but he couldn’t help the pang of sadness that Alec was nowhere to be seen.

“Magnus!” Izzy smiled, a scalpel already in her hand, “looking sharp, as always.”

“I could say the same to you, my dear,” Magnus smiled, rolling up his sleeves. “Now what do we have here?”

Izzy frowned, looking back down at the forsaken. “I’m not one hundred percent sure, but it’s some form of forsaken. Someone did something extra to it, but I can’t figure out what. Think you can help?”

“I can certainly try,” Magnus nodded. The corpse certainly looked like a forsaken at first glance, and Magnus hummed as he waved his hands over it, assessing it with magical probes.

“I waited until you came before I cut anything up,” Izzy told him, “I didn’t know if it would affect your assessment. I can’t wait to get my hands on that thing.”

Magnus smirked, “speaking of which, how is Alexander?”

Izzy snorted, and elbowed him gently in the ribs. “He’s… Honourable to the point of stupidity. You know what he’s like.”

“That sounds about right,” Magnus nodded. “He hasn’t been answering my texts.”

“He’s had a lot on his mind…” Izzy answered diplomatically, not wanting Magnus to hear Alec’s surgery news from her.

“It’s just so hard to tell if Alexander’s even interested.” Magnus sighed, “I mean… I can’t fathom why he wouldn’t be…”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but my brother is not exactly warm and fuzzy,” Izzy pointed out, “just give him time. He’ll come through, I’m sure of it. There’s just too much going on in his head right now. Maybe… You should go and find him, when we’re done here.”

Magnus finished up his magic, and grabbed a pen from the counter. “I’m done. Work your own magic,” he smiled. “But yes, I was planning to. I haven’t seen him since he practically ran out of the loft the other day. He seemed stressed.”

“Stress is his middle name these days. Alexander Stress Lightwood.”

“Then perhaps a few dozen well-worded compliments from me would lift his mood.” Magnus reasoned, and Izzy smiled over her shoulder at him as he wrote his notes.

“I know they would.” She looked back at where she was cutting into the forsaken’s rib cage. “Don’t give up on him, Magnus. He’s a knucklehead, but I think that he could make you really happy, you know? He has a big heart.”

Magnus’ eyes warmed where they were fixed on the page before him. “Oh, don’t worry, Isabelle. I’m no quitter. Speaking of which… I’m going to deliver the preliminary findings to the rightful head of this institute. Any ideas where I might find him?”

“He said he needed to punch something, so try his bedroom. He doesn’t like to work out in the training room.” Izzy told Magnus, apparently distracted by something interesting in the body. Magnus hummed, and made his way out of the laboratory. Thankfully, Miss Branwell had disappeared.

It was easy to find Alec’s room; a simple spell to sense the auras of people in the building and Magnus could feel Alec’s energy, vibrating with… Conflict? Unease? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, and it made Magnus quicken his steps ever so slightly. He could rhythmic dull bangs coming from behind the closed door of Alec’s quarters, and knocked three times, his report tucked under his arm. The bangs stopped, and Alec called for him to come in.

Evidently he didn’t expect Magnus to be the one looking for him, and he yelped loudly when he caught sight of the other man, wrenching his arms across his body. “Magnus! What are you..?!”

Magnus was frozen for a moment, eyes going wide at the sight of Alec glistening with sweat, wearing baggy workout trousers and a white sports bra translucent with perspiration, his bare arms pumped from the punchbag, his abs framing a delicious-looking happy trail that slipped down...

Remembering himself, he spun around so his back was to Alec, and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be… So hot. I mean… Sweaty. I mean… Working out.”

Smooth.

“I should be wearing a shirt, it’s my fault, I’m… Not decent.” Alec muttered, grabbing for a t-shirt and yanking it over his head.

“There’s nothing indecent about you, Alexander,” Magnus insisted, still facing the wall.

Alec smiled a little at that, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants. “You can turn around now.”

“For the record,” Magnus said sheepishly as he turned around, “you’re seriously, seriously lovely to look at. I’d even go so far as to use the word dreamy.”

“Did you come here just to compliment me?” Alec teased, unwrapping the boxing tape from his hands.

Magnus grinned. “Well, yes. But also to deliver this report on the preliminary autopsy findings to the head of the institute. I’m always the absolute height of professionalism.”

“Oh, of course,” Alec snorted, looking at the folder in Magnus’ hands, “but I’m not the head of the institute. And I never will be.”

Magnus’ eyes trailed down to Alec’s arms again, watching as a bead of sweat slipped down the inside of his bicep.

“Magnus, it’s like…” Alec sighed, and Magnus looked back up at his face. “It’s like my whole life has been a lie. Everything I’ve ever known about my family, about my heritage, about my duty, it’s… Gone. Just like that. And now I don’t know what to do. Who am I supposed to be pleasing?”

Magnus frowned. “Alexander, you’re supposed to be pleasing yourself. No-one can live your life for you.”

“I’ve done everything for my parents, for the Clave, to honour them. And… They’ve let me down, Magnus. Again and again. I’ve done everything that they’ve asked.”

“Maybe…” Magnus smiled gently at the younger man, “maybe you should start living for yourself. Do what’s in your heart.”

Alec sighed, running his hand through his sweaty hair. “You know… You’re right. Why are you always right? It’s annoying.”

Magnus smirked, patting Alec’s shoulder. Damn, that was muscled, he thought, inhaling sharply, “comes with 400 years of life experience.”

Alec chuckled, and folded his arms. He wanted to say something more, something… He felt like he knew what he had to do, and he knew that Magnus wasn’t going to like it, but right now he wasn’t confident enough in his decision to explain himself to the other man, so he just kept quiet, enjoying the soft look on Magnus’ face.

“I should go,” Magnus announced, “people might talk if America’s sluttiest warlock hangs around in Alexander Lightwood’s bedroom for too long…”

“Don’t say that about yourself,” Alec replied, eyes fond, and Magnus shrugged.

“I own my sluttiness. I’m never going to apologise for enjoying sex,” he insisted, “besides, it’s fun to mess with shadowhunters’ fragile sensibilities. You should’ve seen the look on Miss Branwell’s face when I told her that her ancestor was a racist prick.”

Alec grinned. “Man, I wish I’d been there to see that.”

“It was poetic, really.”

Alec bit his lip, taking the report from Magnus’ hands. “Thanks for stopping by, Magnus. You always know what to say. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime you need to talk, Alec. I’m here. You know that.” Magnus nodded, letting himself out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clary felt sick watching Luke carry Simon through the graveyard. Simon was like a son to Luke, and Clary knew that no-one would understand Simon’s struggle when he rose like Luke would. While Clary was confident that Simon would want this, that he wouldn’t want to be ripped away from his family and friends like that, she still felt a sense of dread at having to explain to him exactly how he’d been brought back to life, and the consequences of her decision.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Raphael told her as they approached him. “Not only will Simon get another chance at life, he’ll help us to imprison a very dangerous vampire.”

“Save your political agenda, vampire,” Luke spat, putting Simon gently down on the ground and taking the shovel from Clary, “Simon deserves more respect than that.”

Clary nodded, running her thumb over Simon’s prayer shawl. “He deserves forever. And we’re going to give it to him.”

Luke straightened up as he heard a vibration in the air, and Raphael rushed to Simon’s side as Camille stopped a few dozen feet away from them. Clary pulled out her angel blade with her free hand, glowering at the woman who’d murdered Simon. Camille didn’t look half as dangerous as she actually was; she was slight, skinny even, with impractical stiletto shoes and a slinky red cocktail dress. The only thing that made her different to any rich bitch living in SoHo was the pair of gleaming white fangs brushing her lower lip.

“What do you want?” Clary demanded.

Camille sneered at Simon’s body. “I want my property back.”

“Your property?!” Clary snarled, rage broiling inside her and pushing her to walk purposefully towards Camille, angel blade outstretched. “He was a living, breathing human being and you took him from me.”

“If you’ll just hand him over, I’ll be on my way.” Camille sighed, barely sparing Clary or her weapon a glance. Luke hurried to hold Clary back, tugging her back towards Simon.

“Let me at her, Luke, I swear to God, I’m going to rip her hair out,” Clary growled, struggling against Luke’s iron grip.

“She will snap your neck before you could get close.” Luke insisted.

“You’re not laying a hand on him.” Raphael told Camille, “he’s going to make sure that the Clave puts you away for good.”

Camille pursed her lips. “Fine. I tried to do this the nice way.”

With a snap of her fingers, dozens of vampires appeared out of the shadows, surrounding them on all sides. Clary sniffed and raised her chin, unphased. If she was going to be ripped apart by vampires, so be it. She’d rather that than leave Simon’s body to be dumped somewhere where it would never be found.

“I’m glad you brought everyone here to witness your demise,” Raphael taunted, “Camille killed this mundane. She brought the shadowhunters to our door. She’s been breaking the Accords for too long, now. She will lead us to ruin. We can get rid of her. I have all the proof I need, right here.”

Camille laughed, though her eyes betrayed a hint of fear. “Are you trying to overthrow me?”

“If you kill Luke and I to get to Simon, the shadowhunters and the wolves will destroy you.” Clary pointed out to the assembled vampires, which made a few of them look at each other with uncertain expressions. “You will be obliterated by the Clave, if you aren’t ripped apart by Luke’s pack first.”

The vampires all moved at once, Raphael included, and closed in on Camille.

“Don’t listen to them! Raphael doesn’t know the first thing about leading; he’s a child. And as for the shadowhunter and her little lapdog…”

“You will destroy us in pursuit of your own selfish desires,” Raphael growled.

“We can fix this! If we just get rid of the body, this mundane means nothing!” Camille insisted.

Clary clenched her jaw, moving so quickly that Luke didn’t have time to grab her before she was standing in front of Camille. “Simon means nothing? Over my dead body.” Her fist sailed through the air and landed with a satisfying crunch on Camille’s nose, sending her reeling back into the crowd of vampires. Apparently, that show of strength from Clary was enough for them, and they surrounded Camille with a loud hissing sound, restraining her and dragging her back to Hotel DuMort as a team.

Raphael stayed behind, much to Clary’s surprise. He picked up one of the shovels and helped Luke dig Simon’s grave. While they worked, Clary knelt down next to Simon and put his prayer shawl on his chest.

“When your grandfather gave you this at your bar mitzvah, you told me how much it meant to you. It was the symbol of the day you became a man. Simon…” She wiped her nose in her sleeve, feeling the tears pooling in her eyes again. “No matter what happens, no matter what you are or what you become, you will always be that man to me.”

She held Simon’s hand until Raphael and Luke were done, and as Raphael lowered Simon’s body into the ground, Clary clung to Luke, burying her face in his chest.

“He’ll be alright, kiddo. He’s got us. He’ll always have us.” Luke soothed, stroking her hair. “Come on, we need to cover him over before dawn.”

Clary nodded, sniffing back her tears, and grabbed one of the shovels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Alec had showered, he put on his binder and his lucky denim shirt (Magnus had seemed to like it the first night they met, so Alec figured it made him look good), and headed to the office, where he knew Lydia would still be working. He had to give her Magnus’ report before Izzy’s came in. She seemed somewhat surprised to see him, but gestured to the chair opposite her.

“I have Magnus Bane’s findings. He found no trace of magic being used to create the forsaken. Izzy’s still working on it in the lab, I believe she’s waiting for blood test results.” He told her, handing her the report. He chose to stay standing, tangling his hands together behind his back as Lydia flicked through Magnus’ report.

“Seems strange that Mr Bane would deliver it to you rather than me...Though I’m not surprised, he took an instant dislike to me, this afternoon.” Lydia commented, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Alec raised his eyebrows, shrugging a little. He’d never seen Magnus be unfriendly, so he could only assume Lydia had put her foot in her mouth somehow. “I also wanted to talk to you about a… Proposition.”

Lydia put aside the file. “A proposition?”

“Yes,” Alec answered, taking a deep breath as he thought of where to begin. “I feel that our problems are compatible. You need a husband in order to fulfil your dream of running an institute, and I need a strong political partner in order to restore my family’s authority in Idris. If we… Became allies, we could run this institute the way we saw fit. You could make sure that the Clave are happy, and I could get shit done. I know we have slightly different ideas, but we could iron out those differences.”

“Alec… Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Lydia asked, tilting her head to the side.

Alec nodded. “What do you think?”

“You want to marry me?”

Alec couldn’t stop his nose from wrinkling. “I want an ally. I want to be clear. This would not be a romantic or sexual… Thing. This is purely business. I have no interest in women, and I know you said you’ve done the love thing already, so… We’d just be… Allies. Partners.”

Lydia thought about it for less than a second. “Understood. I think we could make it work.”

“So…?”

Lydia smiled. “I guess we’re getting married.”

Alec blew out a long breath. “Right. My parents will be so proud.”

“I feel we should keep it to ourselves until I okay this with the Clave. Of course, you’ll have to have all the surgery before the wedding, so you’ll… You know… Be the husband.”

Alec’s eye twitched, though he didn’t respond. Lydia got up from her desk and took his hands in hers.

“Alec, I promise you, I will do my best to be a good wife.”

“Right…” Alec swallowed hard, realising he’d made a terrible, terrible mistake. “Anyway, see you… Around.”

He got the hell out of there before he could do something stupid like cry or vomit.

“Hey, Alec…” Hodge caught him in the hallway, stopping him with a hand in the crook of his elbow.. “You alright?”

Alec sniffed hard, looking at the wall. “Yeah, just… Need some air.”

“You want to spar with me? I’m getting bored using those dummies.” He offered, eyes darting over Alec’s face, trying to assess what exactly the younger man was feeling.

Alec sighed. If he went back to his room, he might do something stupid like call Magnus. He needed to keep busy, keep his mind off the fact that he’d just ruined any chance at happiness he had in one fell swoop. “Sure,” he answered after a moment’s pause. He met Hodge’s eyes, and it struck him that he felt absolutely no attraction to him whatsoever anymore. For a long time, Alec had felt vaguely uncomfortable around the weapons master, getting a little hot in the face when Hodge touched him casually, struggling to hold eye contact just in case Hodge saw the barest hint of affection in them. Now, though, the only man Alec could see himself holding was Magnus. Perhaps he’d never really been interested in Hodge; perhaps he’d simply been curious as to what it would be like to be admired by a man.

It was wonderful, he’d learned.

It was just a shame that nothing could ever come of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the cemetery, Luke, Raphael and Clary sat in silence next to Simon’s grave. Clary was deep in thought, lost in all the memories that she’d shared with Simon, praying that she’d get to make more in the future. Simon was her oldest and most loyal friend, the one that had protected her all their lives, and who she’d failed to protect. If Simon came back, she promise herself, she would never put Valentine and the shadowhunters before him, not ever again.

“You know what my favourite memory is, of you and Simon?” Luke asked, staring up at the moon. It was two days from full, and he could feel it under his skin.

Clary hummed a questioning tone.

Luke smiled, shaking his head a little. “It’s that time when you were… Oh, maybe twelve? And you came barrelling into the apartment, terrified because you realised halfway home that Simon had forgotten to pay for his bottle of soda. He genuinely thought he was going to jail, and you were determined to come clean to me so I could protect you. I remember looking into Simon’s face, and his glasses were two sizes too big for him, and he looked like he wanted to vomit from pure guilt and fear.” Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “And when I told you it was no big deal, you both immediately started insisting that stealing was wrong, and that Simon had to pay for what he’d done. Neither of you would calm down until me and your Mom promised to take you back to the shop to give them some money.”

“And Simon gave the shop-keeper his whole $5 allowance.” Clary said quietly, tears welling hot in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Luke sighed. “I’ve never known a boy so patient, so loving, and so good. You know, before you came out, I thought for sure someday you and Simon would be together. I remember thinking when you went to homecoming together in your first year of high school, that Simon was the only boy I’d ever trust with my little girl.”

Clary smiled, and reached over to squeeze Luke’s hand. “He’s the best.”

“Yeah. His strength is easy to underestimate, Clary, but it’s there. He’s like steel.” Luke insisted, scooting closer to her. “You know where that strength comes from?”

“His determination?”

“His love. His love for us, our love for him, his mom’s love… That’s what’s going to bring him out of that hole.” Luke told her. “The shadowhunters, the Lightwoods and the others, they’re going to try to convince you that emotions complicate life. That they make life harder. And that might be true, I don’t know. But love is what our family is made of, and it’s why we’ve survived all these years with Valentine breathing down our necks. You can’t let go of that love, okay?”

Clary nodded, laying her head on Luke’s shoulder. “I promise I won’t let them change me.”

“Good,” Luke grumbled, kissing the top of her head.

The two of them stiffened as they felt a faint trembling under their feet, and Raphael moved quickly, grabbing the blood bags he’d brought with him as Simon’s hand burst through the soil. Luke and Clary got to their feet, Luke dragging Clary back a few feet.

“He’s going to be hungry,” Luke explained as she gave him a defensive look. “Let Raphael at him first.”

It took only a few seconds for Simon to climb out of the ground, his new strength helping him shove the loose earth aside. An inhuman hissing sound burst from his lips as he raised his head to look at them, and Raphael snapped the seal off a bag and threw it to him.Simon snatched it up, draining it in three long gulps. Clary watched with horror as her best friend greedily drank his way through four bags of blood, Luke holding her back with a hand on her shoulder.

“Drink up,” Raphael soothed, tossing the fifth bag. Simon drank it a lot more slowly, looking around curiously once it was empty.

“Clary,” Simon said, eyes wide. “What-What’s happening?”

Clary glanced at Luke, who let her go, and she took a couple of steps towards Simon. “You um,” Clary said quietly, “you died.”

“What? No, I… I’m not dead, though.” Simon pointed out, the words a little slurred around the fangs that had grown during his transformation. “What was I drinking? I-it… Is that blood?!” He yelped, scrambling away from the empty bags. “Oh my g-” He choked.

“You can’t say it right now,” Raphael told him, “but you’ll learn. There’s a lot you’ll need to learn. But your clan are here for you. As are your family.”

“Yeah, we’re here for you, Simon. All of us,” Luke insisted.

Simon sobbed dryly, trying over and over to say ‘oh my god’, like that could prove somehow that all of this was a bad dream. Eventually, he pounded the earth with his fists, and looked up at the three people watching him.

“Am I a vampire?” Simon asked, eyes shining with tears.

Clary whimpered, and nodded.

“Clary, tell me this isn’t real, tell me this is a joke, this can’t be happening!” Simon begged, digging his fingers into his own grave.

“I’m sorry, Simon, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Clary cried, stepping closer to him.

Simon squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m a monster.”

“That’s not true,” Luke said gently. “You’re still the same. I promise.”

“You’re the same Simon I’ve known my entire life,” Clary nodded, “the same guy who loves sci-fi, who can recite every line from every Nicolas Cage movie… Who… Who… Once felt so guilty for accidentally stealing a bottle of soda that you paid the clerk back five times over. You’re still the same.”

Simon shook his head. “No, no, I’m not, I’m not. Look at me!” His fingers were molded around his fangs, whimpering at the feel of them, intrusive in his mouth. “Look at me…”

Clary lunged forward, falling to her knees in front of him. “Simon, I will always love you. No matter what.”

“No. No. Please…” Simon fell backwards, stumbling to his feet. “Stay away from me! Stay away…”

With a stiff breeze, Simon disappeared into the night.

“I’ll look after him,” Raphael promised, nodding at Clary before taking off after the young fledgling.

“What did I do?” Clary breathed, pressing her hands into the blood-wet dirt of Simon’s grave as Luke knelt down next to her. “What did I do?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izzy tapped her pen against the desk, her narrowed eyes staring at the computer screen in front of her. Sighing, she stood and made her way over to the microscope, checking for the fourth time. It was definitely angel blood in the forsaken’s system.

“Why would you have angel blood?” She asked the corpse, looking over her shoulder.

What was the point of injecting angel blood into a human? Was Valentine trying to make a shadowhunter? He’d know that wouldn’t work, he was a scientist, he’d have at least that basic knowledge. So what could angel blood do that demon blood couldn’t?

Izzy’s eyes went wide as she put the pieces together. Demon blood couldn’t get through the wards of the institute, but angel blood could. The other forsaken had gone after Luke, Valentine’s old parabatai. So there could be a second forsaken going after Hodge, Valentine’s second in command… And it would need angel blood to get through the wards!

Before she could even finish the train of thought, Izzy had run out of the laboratory, yelling at people to get out of her way as she desperately sprinted through the corridors. Hodge would be in the training room, she guessed, working.

As she rounded the corner, what she saw chilled her blood.

Alec was on the floor, not moving, as Hodge fought the second forsaken with a couple of knives. Just as Izzy grabbed for a sword of her own, Hodge got the upper hand, and broke the forsaken’s neck with an unmistakable crunch. Dropping the sword, Izzy ran to her brother’s side.

“Alec? Alec, are you okay?” She asked, relieved to see that his eyes were already open.

“Yeah, I think so,” Alec croaked, hissing in pain as he sat up. “He clipped me on the head, but I think my arm’s worse.”

Sure enough, there was blood seeping through his shirt where the forsaken’s mace had pierced Alec’s shoulder. He clutched at the wound, his jaw clenching at the wave of pain that wracked his body.

“It came out of nowhere,” Hodge panted, “how did it get through the wards?”

“It had angel blood,” Izzy told them. “Valentine found a loophole. He sent the forsaken to kill off people who’d betrayed him. I think its mission was to kill you.”

Hodge and Alec looked at each other, wondering if Hodge was the only target, or whether Maryse and Robert were also on Valentine’s hit list.

Only time would tell.

[luvambrylayn]

Caught in the Act

Characters: Dean Ambrose, AJ Styles, OFC

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Age Difference, Man on Man, Some Fluff, Oral, Anal

Short Summary: Dean and AJ have to deal with their complicated feelings for one another. Little do they know, they are not alone.

Word Count: 5,390

Other Great Blogs: @llowkeys, @wwe-smutfics, @wrasslesmut, @laochbaineann, @thatonegirloncealways, and @thephenomenonalkingofthebrogues

January 17, 2017

She was always friends with current WWE Champion AJ Styles. The two were so close, so thick as thieves that they told each other everything, well, almost everything. She had just gotten out of a grueling triple threat steel cage match for the SmackDown Live Women's title. She had lost and was hoping to go to AJ Styles in order to talk about it. The two always forgot to knock when coming into each other's locker rooms, and this time it was no exception. To her dismay, she stumbled upon a sight she would never forget....

January 17, 2017 1 Hour Earlier

Dean walked back to his personal locker room with the Intercontinental title slung over his shoulder. He stopped for a second, to stare at the locker room given to AJ Styles. He couldn't help but feel a bit envious. While being a champion in WWE meant a personal locker room, it wasn't the same. He knew all too well the perks that came with being WWE Champion. He wished he could have it back.

One day. Dean thought. As he was about to walk off, he heard a deep, low voice chuckle. He turned to meet the amused gaze of AJ Styles. Dean rolled his eyes at the thought of having to deal with this asshole again. The two genuinely could not stand one another. In fact, Vince had ordered Dean to drop the WWE title after a backstage altercation where Dean sucker punched AJ. If only Dean could tell them what the fight had been about.

He couldn't though. He was keeping it a secret to protect himself. "Look on Boy, this is what an actual Champ looks like. Not some pussy who has trouble beating The Miz." AJ mocked. Dean bit his tongue and walked away. He was walking away because he did not want to risk further punishment, but also because he hated the thought of having to fight that man again. He didn't want to face the truth about himself. What is the truth? One might ask. Well it started after SummerSlam:

Late August 2016

Dean and AJ were working a house show. After about fifteen minutes of their large, sweaty bodies rubbing against one another, it soon became too much for Dean to stand. He had always been afraid to admit that he often had secret feelings for men. He tried to push these thoughts away as his erection began to strain in his jeans. His adjusted them before hitting AJ with Dirty Deeds. He pinned AJ to retain the WWE Championship.

Dean could tell that his cock was not about to calm down any time soon, so he decided to cut his celebration short. When he got backstage, he tried to hold the belt in such away that it hid his groin. He felt the man's large hands on his bare shoulder, sending chills up his spine. He turned and met the blue gaze of AJ. In a perfect world, he would have just went for it and kissed the older man. Dean sighed internally. If only.

"You alright man? You seemed a little off near the end of the match." AJ fretted. Dean couldn't believe that Vince was asking him to pretend to hate this man. Who could hate him? He was not only a handsome man, but he was just a great guy in general. Dean took the opportunity to touch him, nudging AJ's bare chest before nodding. AJ was so sweet, he wouldn't call out the fact that Dean seemed to touch him often.

"Yeah, just tweaked my ankle back there and I wanted to get out as soon as possible." Dean lied. AJ's blue eyes flashed with concern. Yet another reason Dean found the man almost irresistible; AJ always cared about whoever he fought in that ring with. Again, Dean tried to fight the images of him and AJ in carnal embrace from flashing in his mind. He was able to succeed, but his erection was begin to pain him.

"Well you take care of yourself bud. Wouldn't want you hurting yourself." AJ pressed. Dean nodded. AJ pointed in the direction of the medical area. "That means getting checked out." AJ continued. Dean smiled.

"I know, I guess part of me just doesn't want to make a big deal out of it. I'll walk on it and see if it works itself out. If not, I promise I'll go see a damn doctor." Dean assured him. AJ grinned. Before nudging Dean in the jaw with his fist.

"Atta Boy." With that, AJ walked off to catering. Dean couldn't help his gaze from zeroing in on Styles' butt. The way it moved as he walked. If he weren't in public, Dean would have started palming himself. He shook his head of these thoughts, genuinely angry with himself. Before he anyone could see him, he hurried to his locker room.

The WWE Champion's locker room was stocked with a couch, a mini refrigerator, as well as a personal shower, pretty much everything Dean would need to keep himself comfortable. In fact, Dean decided to do just that. He sat down on the couch and undid his fly. He slid his jeans so that they were around his ankles. He spit into his palm and began to stroke his hard member.

His mind flashed images of AJ's body. His biceps, his pecs, and abs. All of it. Dean wanted AJ in the worst way possible. He would do anything for just one night with AJ. He imagined AJ's strong arms lifting him up so that he could wrap his legs around the older man's waist. He imagined bouncing up and down on the older man's cock while they kissed. Finally, he imagined the older man filling up his hole with his seed.

That final image made Dean blow his load. Dean's sperm splattered over his black tank. Dean sighed and took the shirt off, deciding it maybe be best to take a shower. Especially after the most intense orgasm he had ever had. Renee was hot, and Dean certainly loved her, but not in the way he loved AJ. Dean finished disrobing and turned the water on to his shower. To his relief, for a second he forgot all about AJ. A second.

After Dean had finished his shower, he walked out entirely nude. As he thought he was alone, he never thought to bring a towel. AJ's gasp made him regret that decision almost immediately. Dean turned and saw AJ on his couch, still in his ring gear. "Dean, oh my goodness. I was just coming in to check up on you." AJ was clearly scatter brained. "Cover up man." AJ reached down and grabbed the black tank, throwing it to Dean.

Dean looked on mortified as AJ looked at his hand, which was now covered in Dean's semen. "What the fuck!" AJ shouted. Dean's blue eyes widened. He never expected language like that to come out of AJ's mouth. "What in the hell is this?" AJ asked, trying to flick it off, in vain. Dean felt as if his world was falling apart. He took a deep breath. It seemed as though the truth would be the best option.

"It's my cum. I jerked off when I got here and it got onto my shirt. I was taking a shower, didn't expect any visitors." The truth tumbled out through Dean's lips. At least, part of the truth, he still held off telling AJ what it was he was jacking off to. AJ had walked to the sink and began to wash his hands vigorously.

"Is that the real reason why you were in such a rush to end the match?" AJ asked. Dean nodded slowly. AJ chuckled. "Well jeez what could have gotten you that worked up?" AJ asked. At this point, AJ had seemed to have forgotten the fact that Dean was naked. Dean however did not. His naked body, in front of AJ's muscular frame. Him trying to hide his erection was a losing battle.

AJ's eyes widened, signifying that he had in fact noticed Dean's hardening member. "Me?" AJ asked. Dean nodded, his blue eyes tearing up. AJ's usually concerned face seemed to darken. He let out a scoff. "So, you're some type of queer." AJ insulted. Dean wiped the tears from his eyes. AJ rolled his. "I'm out of here." AJ started to walk away, when Dean grabbed him by the arm.

"Wait! Look, yeah, I was jerking off to you, but don't think I haven't noticed all the times you let me touch you. How you call me 'Boy' when no one else is around. In fact, if you ask me, the reason you are such a goddamn homophobe is because you hate yourself." Dean spat. AJ chuckled, except this time it was filled with anger, which only aroused Dean more.

"Is that so?" He asked. Dean nodded nervously. AJ walked to the door and locked it. "Is it true what they say, that it feels the same if a man sucks a cock?" AJ asked. Dean's heart began to beat faster. What was AJ saying? Dean nodded desperately.

"If anything, it feels better." Dean assured him. AJ nodded before, to Dean's dismay, pulling his tights down below his hips and sitting on the couch. AJ's cock had sprung out of his tights, proving that he was already eager to put Dean to the test. Dean kneeled in front of AJ. AJ looked at him with an intent blue gaze.

"Well, what are you waiting for, get to sucking." AJ demanded. Dean took AJ into his mouth and began to bob his head up and down. AJ watched as Dean worked his shaft with a skillful mouth and a titillating tongue. Dean seemed to pay attention to every inch of AJ's cock. Savoring the taste of AJ's musk after their match. Dean popped it out of his mouth and held it up to his lips with a hand.

Dean swirled around the head of AJ's unit before sucking on the head again. AJ threw his head back and laid his arms stretched out on the back of the couch. Dean began to message AJ's balls while still working his mouth on AJ's cock. Dean could hardly think, let alone breathe, he was too excited. After months of wanting nothing but AJ, AJ was all his.

Dean noticed that AJ was whispering to himself. "That's it Boy. Fuck yeah!" AJ's praises filled Dean with a sense of motivation. He decided that he would fit all of AJ's cock in his mouth. Before doing so, Dean released AJ's cock from his mouth and begin to kiss it along the side. He started kissing AJ's balls before moving up the shaft to the tip. Then, he placed the tip at the base of his lower lip before swallowing the older man again.

To Dean's surprise, he felt AJ's hand on the back of his head. AJ had grabbed a handful of Dean's hair and was now pushing Dean further down onto his cock. More and more of AJ's unit slid down Dean's throat until Dean could not take anymore and gagged. A thick coating of saliva covered AJ's member. Dean found himself disappointed as he had not gotten all of AJ. Dean looked to AJ with tear-filled eyes. "I'm going to need you to push my head down and skull fuck me." Dean stated.

AJ's eyes widened as Dean wrapped his lips back around and began to bob up and down at a fast pace. AJ held Dean's head down and began to buck his hips up and down. Dean went further and further down on AJ until his nose became securely nestled in AJ's pubic hair. Dean took in a deep breath to get all of AJ's scent. AJ wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. Dean looked up as AJ.

Dean's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he coughed and gagged, sending vibrations up AJ's cock and as a result, his entire body. Without warning. AJ began to shoot jets of cum down Dean's throat, filling up the younger man's mouth and coating his seed on Dean's tongue. After sucking AJ dry and swallowing every last bit of cum, Dean finally let AJ's cock fall from his lips and watched as it began to soften in AJ's lap.

AJ ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "That was amazing. Boy you are a born cock sucker." AJ praised. Dean smiled to himself before rubbing his bare bottom.

"Maybe next time we can take things a step further." This seemed to break AJ from the trance of ecstasy that he was formerly in. His eyes widened, he gasped, and he shot up as he replaced his cock back into his tights.

"What! There is not going to be a next time because that was a mistake!" AJ spit. Dean got up and shrugged.

"Well, from where I was sitting, it looked like you enjoyed it." Dean pointed out. Dean shook his head.

"Why would I enjoy it? I'm not a damn homo with daddy issues like you." AJ hissed. Without thinking, Dean punched AJ right under his eye. AJ looked at Dean in shock before leaving.

January 17, 2017 50 Minutes Earlier

Dean remembered that day vividly as he slammed his locker room door shut. He had to resist the urge to not trash the locker room. He had worked very hard with his therapist to not always be so, crazy. So instead, Dean sat down and began to take deep breaths. He looked at the mirror and found himself lost in it. He had put on a face while on camera, but now that he was alone, he felt the sting of self-hatred burning in his heart.

Then, it came to him. What if he got back at the man who had betrayed him? Dean went to the monitor in his locker room and turned it on. AJ was delivering a promo. Dean nearly got lost in AJ's words. Man, AJ is a pro on the mic. Dean thought. If he wasn't a man with a mission, he could have spent the next ten minutes or so listening to AJ. However, Dean was able to get a hold of himself and start his mischievous agenda.

He sneaked through the halls until he had gotten to AJ's room. As AJ was not there, he correctly assumed that it was locked. Dean open the door and looked around, the looker room looked very similar to Dean's when he was champion. Dean started with AJ's bag, throwing clothes all over the place. He grabbed one of AJ's shirts then went into the shower area. He clogged the drain with the shirt before turning the water on. He returned to the main area and started to trash everything he could.

This meant clearing out the mini fridge, eating some of the food. Dean expected that he would start feeling happy, but it was clear that wasn't the case. He noticed that water was beginning to run into the main room. The carpet starting to soak up the water. Dean sat down and took a deep breath. This had been a waist of time. Suddenly, he felt something underneath the couch cushions.

Dean raised his butt up a bit before lifting the cushion up. There, he saw pictures of himself. All of these pictures were of Dean shirtless, much to Dean's dismay as he began to flip through them. As the pictures caught the light, Dean noticed that some pictures had streaks on the film, almost as if they had been, licked. Dean chuckled and sat back, under the pillow, he heard a slight crinkle. Dean got up and looked under some of the pillows and found the source of the noise.

They were magazines. Of the gay pornographic variety. Dean shook his head as he flipped through each page and examined how worn out the pages looked. AJ had clearly been through this magazine more than a few times. And Dean knew that no straight man would have this in his possession. Unless, he were not actually straight. Dean had become so lost in thought that he did not even notice the door open.

"What in the Sam Hill! Ambrose!" AJ exclaimed. Dean dropped the magazine and turned to face AJ. AJ looked around and noticed the food, wrappers, clothes, and to his dismay, water. He looked and deduce what Dean had done. He shook his head. "You are such a damn child." AJ remarked. Dean rolled his eyes as AJ began to walk away. "Stay put, Boy." AJ ordered. For some strange reason, Dean was inclined to listen to AJ.

Dean waited on the couch with a smug grin on his face with the magazine and the pictures in his lap. AJ returned with a soaked shirt. He looked at Dean in disbelief before throwing it to the side. "So, all this because I called you a name?" AJ spat. Dean rolled his eyes as he got up and walked to the older man.

"This is about much more than that and you know it Styles." Dean spat. AJ crossed his arms and shrugged, feigning ignorance.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." AJ lied. Dean tilted his head and held up the magazine and photos. AJ's eyes widened as he lunged for them. "Give me those." AJ spat. Dean cruelly held them up high. As he was taller than AJ, he knew AJ wouldn't be able to reach.

"It seemed like that night did have an effect on you." Dean commented. AJ flipped his hair and scoffed, taking a defiant stance with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Okay, I get. What do you want?" AJ asked. Dean shook his head in disbelief. AJ thought that Dean was about to use the pictures and pornography as blackmail. He couldn't be more wrong. Instead, he handed the photos to AJ, who accepted them with a look of confusion on his face. "You're giving these back to me?" AJ asked. Dean nodded. AJ shrugged. "Why?"

"I just, I wanted to know that you didn't think of me as some disgusting human being just because I'm gay. These photos proved that you don't." Dean explained. He started to leave, but when he opened the door, AJ was behind him and shut it closed. Dean turned to meet the older man. The two were only an inch or so away from one another. AJ shook his head in disappointment.

"I'm sorry for ever making you feel that way." AJ apologized. Suddenly, AJ forced his lips onto Dean's. Dean almost resisted at first due to sheer disbelief. However, he pulled AJ into him with a hand, deepening the kiss. AJ quickly moved from Dean's lips and began to trace Dean's jaw with rough, passionate kisses. While doing so, he began to squeeze Dean's bottom with both hands. A growl escaped form AJ's lips.

"Boy, I've been wanting to fuck you ever since that night you sucked my cock." AJ hissed. Dean moan as AJ began to kiss his neck. AJ's lips moved further down until they were met with the fabric of Dean's tank top. AJ grabbed onto each strap and ripped Dean's shirt in two. He zeroed in on one of Dean's pink nipples and began to suck on them. Dean moaned again, holding AJ's head in place. AJ began to bite on Dean's nipple before tugging on it.

Dean nearly let out a yelp, but AJ covered his mouth. His blue eyes gazed into Dean's. "Listen here boy, I don't want none of that sissy, moaning crap, if I am going to fuck you, it's going to be as men, understood?" AJ asked. Dean nodded. Dean's hands found themselves exploring every inch of AJ's body; paying attention to every muscle, every inch of his skin. AJ pulled down Dean's pants. Dean's boxers were hiding a visible erection from AJ's sight.

AJ rectified this by pulling down Dean's boxers and allowing Dean's cock to spring free from confinement. AJ placed Dean's cock at his mouth and sucked. AJ was far less experienced and had trouble matching Dean's blowjob from five months ago. Dean, was not about to let AJ feel discouraged as he whispered praises to the older man. "That's it. Play with my balls." Dean requested. AJ began to look at Dean with his blue eyes filling with tears as he played with Dean's sack.

While Dean's cock was smaller than AJ's huge member, Dean had much more experience sucking cock and was able to blow AJ with relative ease. AJ, however, was inexperienced and was struggling to get even half of Dean's cock down his throat. Dean felt kind of bad watching AJ. He knew for sure that AJ would suffer from major jaw ache later. It seemed as though AJ had reached his limit as he gagged and spit Dean's cock out.

AJ stroked it slowly, still determined to give Dean some form of pleasure. Dean admired AJ's drive and stopped him, helping AJ up to his feet. "Was I not good?" AJ asked worriedly. Dean's eyes softened as he kissed AJ on the forehead.

"You were great man, I just figured maybe it was time for your Boy to pleasure you." Dean explained. AJ nodded as Dean guided him to the couch. He pushed AJ down to a sitting position and pulled AJ's tights down once more. Dean took hold of AJ's already hardened member as he began to stroke him. "I've been wanting to do this again for months." Dean admitted before taking AJ into his mouth.

"Oh fuck!" AJ cursed as Dean moved up and down, fitting as much of AJ's cock into his mouth as he possibly could. Dean's long, thin hair began to get in his face as he sucked so AJ took a hand and coarsely cleared it from Dean's face. He kept his hand in Dean's hair, grabbing a handful in order to roughly guide Dean's head up and down on his cock. "Hey Boy?" AJ prompted. Dean paused his up and down motion to look at AJ. "Do you think you could deep throat my cock again?" AJ requested.

Dean shrugged before pushing his head down, accepting more of AJ into his body. "Fuck!" AJ cried out as through sheer willpower, Dean was able to reach the bottom of AJ's nearly 11-inch shaft. Dean coughed sending vibrations through AJ's unit. Dean gagged and let AJ's tool fall out of his mouth. Dean began to stroke AJ. AJ ran his finger along Dean's face. "Good thing you stopped Babe, any more sucking and I would have blown my load right there and then." AJ commented. Dean chuckled.

"So I'm guessing you have other plans for me?" Dean asked. AJ wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded. He motioned for Dean to get up. Dean did so obediently. AJ took this time to remove his tights, leaving him completely nude. Silently, AJ walked over to Dean and guided him to a bent over position.

"Spread your legs." AJ ordered. Dean did so, giving AJ access to Dean's pale butt. AJ buried his tongue in Dean's tight pink hole, tracing circles around it. He began to stroke himself while he rimmed Dean. Dean found it impossible to suppress his moans. While he may not have been good at sucking cock, AJ was certainly skilled with his tongue. His AJ buried his face deeper and deeper into Dean's butt, Dean began to stroke himself.

AJ paused and traced around Dean's hole with a large finger. He spit onto his target for lubrication before pushing through the pink barrier. "Fuck!" Dean called out as AJ eased his finger in and out of Dean's hole. AJ could not believed how hard he was. Dean was eliciting a type of arousal from him that he had never experienced before. He wanted nothing more than to have his member between Dean's sweet ass, but he also knew that he had to take things slow.

AJ placed another finger at Dean's hole and began to finger fuck the man fast. Dean looked up in a mixture of pleasure in pain. He had always pushed Renee to finger him, but she was never into it. In hindsight, Dean was glad, now he felt as though he had saved his ass for AJ. Without warning, AJ stopped. Dean looked up, and saw as AJ walked in front of him, his erect cock standing tall.

To Dean's shock, AJ bent down in front of Dean. Without a second invitation, Dean buried his face into AJ's perfect butt. To Dean's pleasure, the older man was also hairier. Dean swirled his tongue around AJ's hole while also stroking AJ's unit. Dean's own cock remained hard as a rock while precum began to form at the tip. AJ used a hand to push Dean's face deeper. Deans more triangular tongue began to penetrate AJ's hole.

Dean kissed AJ's hole, rubbing it. While he wanted in, he was sure that it might be too big of a step for AJ. Instead, Dean got up and walked over to the couch. He laid on his back and lifted his legs up into the air, his butt hanging off the couch. AJ kneeled down and was about to insert himself into Dean when the two heard a gasp from the front door way.

It was AJ's friend, who silently stepped in and shut the door behind her. She crossed her arms and shook her head in disbelief. "So how long has this been happening?" She asked. The two nude men scurried, trying to find clothes to cover their genitals. AJ's friend looked on the ground and noticed the trash the littered the carpet. She looked to the two and chuckled. "Just how crazy did your fucking get?" She asked. AJ sent a side glance to Dean.

"Hey, you know I'm sorry that I forgot to lock the door, you should probably go." AJ pressed. She ran a hand through her hair and shook her head, taking a seat on the arm of the chair. "What are you doing?" AJ asked. His friend smiled at the two.

"Don't stop on my account. Get to it." She assured them. Dean and AJ looked to one another nervously. She rolled her eyes. "Look, I don't want to tell anyone what you two were up to. I don't. I like you both, but a woman also has needs. Watching you two fuck is definitely something I need. So, get to it, unless you would rather have me tell everyone." She warned. AJ and Dean looked to one another before shrugging and kissing again.

It was clear that the presence of AJ's friend would not deter them. AJ was on top of Dean, their tongues battling for dominance. AJ began to kiss Dean once again before separating and placing his still hard cock at the entrance of Dean's virgin pink hole. AJ spit onto the head of his dick and rubbed it over his member before starting to push his hips forward. Dean inhaled as AJ's shaft broke through the barrier. AJ began to ease his 11-inch cock in and out.

With long, powerful thrusts, AJ began to fuck Dean. Dean's hairy chest was taking deep, short breaths as AJ began to make him his. Dean spit into his palm and began to stroke himself. The two met one another's gaze as AJ bucked his hips. Dean removed his eyes from AJ's and began to study every inch of AJ's body. He had seen it before, hell, he had touched it before, but never from this point of view.

While AJ was shorter, he seemed to loom over Dean as each pound sent a wave that shook Dean's body. Dean watched as every muscle flexed or contracted with each thrust. Dean bit his lip, trying to stifle each moan that desperately wanted to escape his lips. AJ's friend removed her shorts and kicked them off. She began to rub her soft, pink, throbbing pussy as she watched Dean and AJ fuck.

Dean looked to her and licked his lips. It was clear that AJ still had a thing for women. He looked to Dean, as if asking for permission. Dean sighed playfully before nodding. AJ continued to thrust as he leaned forward and took over for his friend, eating her pussy. She began to moan, grabbing onto AJ's chestnut brown hair and pushing his face further into her pussy. AJ's thrusts were not pausing, proving his ability to multi-task.

Each thrust hit Dean's g-spot, making it so that Dean did not need to stroke himself in order to reach his climax. Dean decided to be cruel by clenching his asshole, making him much tighter. AJ groaned as he ate out his friend. "Fuck!" He cursed at Dean. Dean chuckled mischievously. AJ stopped licking his friend's pussy and glared at Dean. His eyes darkened and he shook his head. "You are going to regret that!" AJ spit.

He started to thrust harder and faster. Each thrust eliciting a small yelp of both pain and pleasure from Dean. Dean looked at his cock, which was beginning to feel pressure. "AJ, fuck you are going to make me fucking cum!" AJ bucked his hips faster. Despite not touching his cock, Dean's member began to jerk before covering Dean's bare stomach with a thick coating of his sperm.

AJ leaned over Dean and began to lick up Dean's cum. This seemed to be too much for his friend to handle as she began to cum, her pussy squirting juices all over the two, wetting them. AJ licked up some of Dean's seed and let it slide down his tongue and into Dean's mouth. The two then kissed as they let the Lunatic's spunk mingle between their mouths, AJ separated as his sweaty, hairy body continued to thrust.

AJ began to pound Dean frantically. He rubbed the sweat from his forehead as he looked to his friend and winked. He then looked to Dean and smiled. "I can get used to fucking this man pussy." AJ admitted. Dean nodded, his own body now covered with a sweaty sheen. "Is this ass mine?" AJ asked. Dean nodded again. AJ smacked the side of his ass, causing Dean to yelp. "Is this ass all?" AJ repeated.

"This ass is all yours!" Dean cried out. This seemed to be the encouragement that AJ needed as he began to unload into Dean's ass. Each thrust sending another jet of sperm into Dean. The two's breathing was labored as exhaustion began to take over them. The two fall into an embrace while kissing passionately. AJ exited Dean and fell to the ground, his legs weak. His cock still throbbing as it began to soften.

She got up to her feet and smiled. "See, I think we all needed that." She pointed out. Both Dean and AJ nodded. Dean got up to his feet and helped AJ up. The two men stood in front of their friend, who was still sweaty cause of her match.

"I think another thing we all need is a shower." Dean comments. That was all she needed to hear as she began to strip. The three walked to the bathroom.

"Maybe we can have Round 2 in the shower?" She suggested. AJ shrugged.

"Only if my Boy is okay with." AJ stated as he smacked Dean's bare ass. Dean sighed.

"Sorry, but I just wouldn't feel right without Renee." Dean admitted. She chuckled.

"Invite her, I've always like Renee." She agreed before running into the shower. They heard the water running as AJ began to palm himself, his cock hardening again.

"Me too, maybe you should invite Renee." AJ seconded. Dean playfully shoved him.

"Fuck off." Dean joked. AJ kissed the younger man one last time before kissing his forehead.

"I love you Dean." AJ told him. As he left, Dean watched his bare ass.

"I love you too AJ." He grabbed his phone from his jeans and called Renee. "Hey Babe, meet me in AJ's locker room. It doesn't matter why, AJ and I have a proposition for you."

The End!