Written for the Writerspridemonth (@writersmonth ). Week 3: Unusual Coming Out.
Thanks for the Pie
Destiel fic/ Fandom: Supernatural/Rate: Teen and Up Audiences
Link to AO3
Dean woke up that morning sniffing the sweet smell in the air that led him to the kitchen.
His eyes widened in surprise as he found Castiel wearing an apron, with flour on his nose and cheeks carrying a beautiful and hot piece of cherry pie on his right hand. Eileen was behind her proudly clapping at him and Sam was enjoying the picture of his girlfriend and the angel.
"Cas? What…?" Dean approached him slowly, still with a startled gaze.
"Eileen taught me how to bake a pie. This is for you." Castiel simply said, lending him the plate with the delicious pie.
Dean blushed and swallowed, while he reached out his hand to accept the gift. Sam and Eileen exchanged happy looks.
"I… This is…" Dean was babbling, eyes darted to the pie.
Castiel chuckled sheepishly, "I hope you like it…"
"I love it." Dean rushed, locking his eyes with the angel, Castiel was blushing too. Dean couldn't stop the following words coming out of his mouth so naturally, "I love you. I love you so much."
There was silence in the room. Castiel flinched, Sam dropped his jaw and Eileen was trying to drown a shout of excitement by covering her mouth with her hands.
Dean flicked his eyes from Sam to Eileen and back to Castiel. His face was red as a tomato. He gulped as he closed his eyes for a second and then he opened them again and sighed, "To the Hell with it…" Dean muttered, suddenly pulling Castiel closer with his free arm and kissing him passionately in front of Sam and Eileen. The huntress was screaming like a fangirl.
"If I had known it was that easy to make my brother finally confess his feelings for Cas, we would have taught Castiel to bake pie years ago and I would have saved myself so much drama and unresolved sexual tension!" Sam chuckled, searching for his cellphone as he winked at Eileen, "This deserves a pic!" and pressing his finger on the screen, he caught the historical cute moment in which his brother finally came out from the closet.
Written for the Writer's Pride Month (@writersmonth ) Week 1: Write a fic featuring the colors of the Pride Flag.
Dancing Among Rainbows
McDanno fic/Fandom: Hawaii 5 0
Rated: Teen and Up Audiences.
Link to AO3
"Where's the case you told me?" Danny wheeled around, spreading his arms as he showed his t-shirt with the pride flag on it.
Steve grinned and didn't reply, he just pushed Danny towards the Pride Parade with his colored flag in his right hand.
"Is there a corpse? A suspect?" Danny kept asking, but Steve was already moving at the crowd's happy rhythm, Danny frowned and tried to follow him, "If there's a suspect in this mess, it's gonna be very difficult to find!" Danny was now yelling to catch Steve's attention. But it was in vain. The blonde decided to grab his friend by the arm and turned him around, "Hey! Are you listening? Are we undercover?!"
Steve chuckled, "I'm not." He said as he placed a sweet and rushed kiss on Danny's lips.
Danny flinched, his eyes were wide open, "S--Steve, I'm not…" he stuttered but Steve chuckled again and pulled him closer for another kiss, this time more deep and passionate. Danny closed his eyes and his shoulders relaxed as he wrapped Steve's back with his arms.
Steve cut the kiss and stared at him in the eyes, "What were you saying?"
"Happy pride month, animal." Danny muttered, flushing.
Steve embraced Danny by the shoulder with a grin, "Happy pride month, Danno." And they followed the music and the happy people dancing among the rainbow.
Summary: Natasha’s mission goes FUBAR. Maria worries about her girl.
A/N: This is my first time posting a fic on Tumblr :). You can read the Ao3 version here
It was a mission gone wrong. Some rookie agent, who clearly had not paid enough attention during training, had triggered an alarm at the HYDRA base they were infiltrating. Nat looked at the monitor screen. 70% downloaded . Well shi-
She didn’t have time to complete her thought as HYDRA agents started streaming through the door. Perhaps it hadn’t been the best idea for her to split off from the rest of the group.
“Fall back to the jet,” Nat yelled into her coms,
“What about you, Romanoff?” Fields, one of the more competent agents (who Nat actually liked), asked.
“I’ll be fine. If I’m not there in seven minutes, leave without me.”
Fields started to protest, but Nat turned off her ear piece and turned to face the enemy agents. It was four-to-one. She smirked: she liked those odds.
The first agent rushed towards her, baton raised. He lacked agility, though, and Nat easily sidestepped him, slamming his head against the table. 80% downloaded . The next two tried to tag team her, but she hit one with her widowbites and side-kicked the other, sending the HYDRA agent flying across the room.
The remaining agent was clearly more experienced than the three Nat had just knocked out. She threw a punch, which he easily blocked and he retaliated with a flurry of punches and kicks. Natasha looked over at the monitor. 95% downloaded .
It was a mistake to take her eyes off her opponent. She let out a little oof as he kicked her side, sending her stumbling back a little. Nat quickly recovered as the agent stalked towards her, using his cockiness to her advantage. He was overconfident now, telegraphing his movements. As he threw another kick towards her solar plexus, Nat easily caught his leg, using his momentum to swiftly pin him to the ground. She knocked him out with a forceful hit to his temples and walked back to the monitor.
Data download complete. She set the system to wipe itself and rushed out of the room, wincing in pain as her breaths became slightly labored. Her ribs were definitely broken. She raced through the halls, firing at the few HYDRA agents who tried to stop her. The base was like a labyrinth, probably designed that way, but, fortunately, she knew her way back. She got outside and rushed towards the forest. Fields was waiting when she got to the quinjet.
“I told you to leave after seven minutes,”
“I figured you might need a couple extra seconds. Did you get the data?”
“Your lack of confidence wounds me, Fields,”
The more junior agents looked scared at the accusation, but Fields just chuckled and shook her head. Nat went up to the cockpit of the jet and told the pilot to fly them home. Sitting down next to Fields she muttered to the agent quietly,
“Hill is gonna be pissed.”
———
To say Maria was furious when the team returned would be a massive understatement. She had received a post-mission summary from Agent Fields and she was fuming. Her glare paralyzed most of the junior agents, and the more senior ones were smart enough to stay far, far away from their commander.
“What the hell were you thinking, Richards?” Maria’s voice rang out across the hangar as she berated the rookie, “You could have gotten your whole team killed. You’ll be lucky if you're not stuck with desk duty for the next decade.”
Nat tried to sneak away, hoping to avoid Maria’s tirade. Unfortunately for her, Maria had expected this and whirled around, jabbing a finger at her, “And don’t even think about trying to skip medical, Romanoff, or I will make you babysit Stark.”
Maria turned back around and went into full commander mode, making sure everyone’s injuries were tended to and ushering them into debriefing. Sighing, Nat turned to walk to the medbay, skipping a checkup definitely wasn't worth watching Tony. It wasn’t unusual for Maria to get like this, especially if she got hurt. It was endearing, knowing how much Maria cared about her. The second she stepped foot into the medbay, she was whisked away into a room Dr. Cho came in and immediately got to work.
“These two are broken,” Dr. Cho examined Natasha’s ribs, “And you might have a concussion. You’re staying overnight for observation.”
Dr. Cho had learned a while ago not to give Nat any leeway when it came to her health. If she said Nat “should” do something, she probably wouldn’t do it, so Dr. Cho gave Nat orders, and ratted her out to Maria or Steve if she didn’t.
“Fine,” Nat grumbled and pouted her lips. Dr. Cho arched an eyebrow and Nat sighed, “Thanks, Helen,”
“You’re welcome, Nat,” she turned to walk out the door, “I meant what I said about staying overnight.”
———
“Tasha?” Maria leaned against the doorframe. Nat blushed at the nickname, her cheeks tinged pink. Clint wasn’t even allowed to call her that.
“Hey Commander,” she smiled as her girlfriend entered the room. Her face quickly changed when Maria opened her mouth,
“Do you know how stupid that was? You could have been killed, I could have,” Maria paused, choking on her words, “I could have lost you,”
“Masha.”
Maria looked at Nat and immediately softened, looking guilty. She ran a hand through her hair,
“I’m sorry, I just freaked out,”
“It’s okay,” Nat reached to grab her hand, “you never know in our line of work. I’d be the same way if you got hurt. But it’s just a couple broken ribs, Maria.”
“Broken ribs?” Maria immediately pulled her hand from Nat’s and pushed up the shirt she was wearing to reveal nasty purple bruises forming on her torso.
“If you wanted to undress me, you should’ve just asked, Masha,” Nat smirked. She faked a hurt expression when Maria slapped her arm, “the betrayal. Hurt by my own girlfriend.”
Maria smiled slightly, relieved that Nat was well enough to joke around.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,”
“I know. I’m sorry I made you worry,” Nat placed a gentle kiss on Maria’s lips, “I love you so much, Maria,”
“I love you too,” Maria smiled, placing a hand on Nat’s cheek.
“You better get going before your agents start thinking you care too much,” Nat straightened Maria’s blue uniform, “Can’t have them thinking ‘Hardass Hill’ has gone soft,”
“Fine. But I’m coming back once I’m off the clock. Want me to bring dinner?”
“Is it a date, Hill?”
“Only if you want it to be, Romanoff,” it was Maria’s turn to smirk and she winked as she walked out.
Nat smiled. Near-death experiences were almost worth it to spend time with Maria like this. Almost.
Week 1: Write a story featuring all the colors of the pride flag.
„Pink. You know that pink was originally on the flag but it was scrapped because fabric was epensive back then?”
Christian looked up from his book to see his boyfriend pointing at a pink piece of glass decorating the window.
„What in the world are you talking about, Mason? What flag?”
„Pride flag, of course! It’s June already! Oh, and here’s red. Pink symbolizes sexuality, it’s not on the modern one but who cares, pink is awesome. And the red signifies life. Pretty universal but I think it’s pretty hilariously on point for us even more so than everyone else. Well, you.”
„What, because vampires drink blood?” Christian raised an eyebrow at Mason’s pleased, smug smile.
„Exactly. Next we have orange. This kinda looks like orange? Or maybe it’s just rust seeping onto the glass but it looks orange so it’s cool. Orange is for healing.”
„Why are you even doing this?”
Mason ignored his question and continued examining the window. Here’s yellow. It’s kinda white-ish yellow but yello stands for sunlight too so whitish yellow works. Sun’s pretty bright.”
„Like you.”
„I will pretend I didn’t hear that. Green, right here. It means...”
„Let me guess! Nature.” Mason stuck his tongue out at him and Christian closed the book, now intrigued at where this was going.
„Next, we have blue. Originally there was a lighter blue too. The indigo means serenity and light blue... magic.”
Christian flicked some sparks at him in amusement.
„Not quite my color though. Blue would be more Lissa’s thing I guess.”
„Is spirit blue? Wouldn’t that be like, transparent?”
Christian shrugged.
„I have no idea. Water’s blue but all water users we know are assholes.”
Mason looked back at the stained glass window.
„Well, the last color is purple, right here, and it actually signifies spirit on the pride flag so we can say purple works for Lissa, and blue is not that contradictory for fire? I mean, the hottest flames burn blue, don’t they?”
He left the window and alone and joined Christian in the chair, plopping himself in his boyfriend’s lap.
„Kinda like you’re the hottest flame around.”
Christian lip quirked.
„Alright, Casanova. And what was the point of this queer history lesson?”
„Why, it’s pride month, of course!” He grinned. „I’m checking if there’s all the colors of the rainbow in the window so we can shine a huge light through it and make it into a blaster ray that will turn everyone gay!”
Christian couldn’t help it. He laughed, open and joyous, and shut Mason up with a kiss.
Summary: Qrow never really cared about labels or what people call themselves. But his curiosity gets the best of him and he can't help but wonder what label Oz has assigned himself. His answer throws Qrow for a bit of a loop.
Relationship(s): Qrow Branwen x Ozpin
Categories: Fluff, Cute, LGBTQ+ Themes
Author’s Note: two prompts into Writer's Pride Month (@writersmonth) and I haven't even mentioned Cloqwork????? Well we'll just have to remedy that 😎 please accept this short little offering of these two being cute dorks feat a personal fav sexuality headcanon 🤗
Prompt 3: Write a story about an unusual coming out.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Deep bass pounded from the subwoofer set upon the hearth of their fireplace; it thumped heavily in Remus’ chest. Hung from the ceiling fan of the sitting room, a strobe light flashed and illuminated their friends dancing, drinking, and laughing.
One might have thought a unicorn had barfed rainbows and glitter everywhere; dozens of rainbow pennant flags hung around the ceiling. Stretched across the wide doorway separating the sitting room from the kitchen, a banner read, Congratulations, it’s a GAY!
Sirius, the Pride Party Planner himself, stumbled up to Remus and hooked an arm around his shoulders. “Having fun, love?”
Written for the Writerspridemonth (@writersmonth ) Week 4: Write about a Milestone
It's a YES
KimRis fic | Fandom: Star Trek Voyager | Rated: Teen and Up Audiences
Link to AO3
"You are a traitor, that's what you are," Tom finally said to Harry when B'elanna left before starting the race. They both were wearing the red race suit.
Harry wheeled around, smiling in disbelief while he fixed his eyes with his best friend, "I'm not a traitor okay? What about you? Changing me at the last minute…"
"Don't blame me for that. It was B's and you accepted!" Tom's cheeks were red with anger. He has this huge pain in his chest and he couldn't stop his own words.
Harry huffed, "And what should I say? She's your girlfriend!"
They were almost yelling in the middle of one of the corridors. Tom flicked his eyes from side to side. There were a lot of people staring at them. So he pushed Harry slightly inside of his room by grabbing him by the arm
"What are you doing? The race is about to start!" Harry said, releasing himself brusquely.
"Yeah, I'm sure you are anxious to be with that lady, your new partner." Tom noticed the amount of jealousy in his own words, and quickly, he averted his eyes to a side, flushing.
Harry stared at him with a curious frown, "I didn't want to be with her. I would rather be with you than her. I don't know why you are saying such…"
Tom drifted his blue eyes to him. So honest, so full of…
"Then be with me." Tom pleaded. His voice sounded so deep, Harry felt his leg trembling.
"But--but B'elanna…"
"I can talk with her," Tom cut him off, approaching him with a fond smile.
Harry swallowed. Tom had never looked at him like this before. What was going on there?
They were too close, Harry's face was warming up, Tom chuckled, but he never flicked his eyes off of him.
"Tom…"
"What? I can handle it. You just have to say yes." Tom said, almost in a whisper, as he dropped his gaze to Harry's beautiful lips.
Harry's heart was racing, and Tom was getting closer and closer, "What… what are you doing?"
"I'm waiting for your answer." Tom smiled crookedly.
"You are… too close." Harry stuttered.
"And you are not moving. I can consider your body language as a yes."
Tom's eyes were too blue. Harry gulped again, "Are we-- are we still talking about the race? Right?"
Tom bit his lower lip, "I think you know what we are talking about here." And without any further ado, Tom closed the gap between them and kissed him softly in the lips.
Harry gasped at first, but then he closed his eyes slowly, and kissed him back.
That feeling had always been there.
Tom and Harry pulled apart and then, Harry hugged him tight. Tom chuckled. "My answer is yes." Harry replied.
"I knew it. You and I belong together." Tom muttered, embracing him back.
FANDOM: Final Fantasy XIV
PAIRING: Krile & G’raha, Scions & G’raha, Mentioned WolExarch
WORD COUNT: 1,474
LINKS: AO3
Summary: Krile was going to celebrate G'raha's Nameday, even if it wasn't the one on his birth certificate. All of his friends help.
Written for @writersmonth. Trans G’raha lives in my head rent free.
G’raha Tia had never had much in the way of family. His mother wasn’t around, his father was long gone and Miqo’te traditions were hardly inclusive enough to care for his extended family. Thus, when it came to celebrating anything, Krile had found him sorely lacking. When they’d met in their second year of college, she distinctly remembered him spending the entirety of the winter holiday in the dorms. And he had decided to forgo informing her of his nameday until it had already passed.
Krile had done everything after that to ensure he was included with her own family and though they welcomed him, she was not fool enough to think he’d allowed himself to well and truly be part of her family.
But this year, much had changed. The young lady she roomed with in college came out as trans, had begun taking testosterone, had blossomed in the light of support offered by a rapidly growing group of friends.
And so, Krile had elected to celebrate not the nameday of the young lady she had met years ago, but the young man she’d been introduced to just last year and she had recruited his new friends to aid her in this effort.
Unfortunately, she had forgotten what the lot of them was like.
“It’s not straight.”
“I thought that was the point.”
Krile paused to pinch the bridge of her nose, wondering why Nymeia had cursed her with these two.
“I believe I am the one who’s colorblind, Thancred,” Y’shtola says from her spot at the counter, where she’s finishing up icing the cupcakes, freshly baked by the joint effort of Ryne and Lyna.
“He is gay, too, I’ll have you know.”
He sounds so smug , as if he’s won some battle, even as he does as Krile asks and straightens the banner before taking the hammer from Urianger’s waiting hand to finish his side.
“You weren’t the first he came out to, I’ll have you know,” Krile says, clicking her tongue as she turns to help Tataru smooth the wrinkles from the triple-toned table cloth. She runs her hand across pink and blue and white stripes until they’re flat against the table, a smile easing its way onto her lips as she takes a step back to inspect their efforts.
What had once been Raha’s front room had been transformed into a paradise of pride, swathed in the same pinks, blues and whites that were represented on the flag. The overhead banner, the tablecloth, the cupcakes, even everyone in the room had changed clothes to match the theme.
Not that all of them were particularly happy about their apparel.
“Is it truly necessary for me to wear white?” Y’shtola asks, eerily close to reading Krile’s mind.
“Yes! Blue for boys, pink for girls and white for all those in between, lest you wish to mix and match!”
“It is hardly my color,” she mutters, bemoaning the usual black that she wore. And while she was correct , Krile did not particularly care , not today! “And I am icing cupcakes.”
Oh, yes, that white shirt would be stained with pinks and blues before she was done, certainly. All the better, Krile would say, not that she gets the chance to.
Ryne surprised them both by rushing to Y’shotola’s side to deliver another batch of cupcakes, to await cooling before they could be topped with icing.
“You look beautiful in any color, Y’shtola!”
The smile Ryne wore was hard to argue with, even for their monarch of sass. It proved infectious, melting away Y’shtola’s exaggerations in favor of a gentle smile of her own. But there is no time to offer a response before Ryne rushes back to Lyna’s side, the giddy chatter between the two barely audible to Krile’s pointed ears.
“I hope you’ve a solution for the nameday boy, unless you managed to conn him into wearing blue today.”
Oh, but Krile had done no such thing! She couldn’t risk tipping him off and it was G’raha’s boyfriend that had recommended a solution to her. So she paused to retrieve it from the box she’d set in the bottom of his hall closet, where it would be considerably safer during their reconstruction of Raha’s home.
She lifted the top off the box and could feel the heat of a great many gazes on her back as she brought the object in question out of the closet and into the air to show all its majesty. Bright blue with a hint of white dusting at the top was—
“Is that a paper mache crown ?”
"Oh, yes, yes it is! Lovingly handcrafted by the one and only Tataru!"
Alisaie laughs , doubling over with tears of mirth in her eyes at the dramatics of it all. Alphinaud does not grace her with even a glance in her direction, a wide grin on his face that’s just as polite as is his norm.
“He’ll love it, I’m certain,” he says, even as Tataru turns to explain to him that the time allotted to her for its creation had been limited by how hard it was to coordinate all of this when G’raha was all but outright glued to Krile’s side. Between being roommates and working together, that was no small surprise.
Krile is partway through laughing at their antics when Lyna hushes all of them with a hiss under her breath.
“He’s coming!”
Everyone’s reaction is instantaneous. They scatter, scrambling to find a spot to hide in. They bump into each other, curse, the chair Thancred had been standing on earlier gets tipped over. It's sheer luck that the bouquet that was lovingly prepared by their very own hero was not lost to the destruction.
And oh dear, the haste at which a key gets pushed into the lock and the door swings open when the chair clatters loudly to the ground.
“What in Azeyma’s name?”
As soon they hear G’raha’s voice, a trainwreck occurs. A cacophony of voices begin yelling out of sync. “Happy Nameday!” “Surprise!” Urianger whacks his forehead by rounding the too-short-for-Elezen door frame too quickly as they slowly descend into chaos. Alisaie accidentally elbows Thancred, Ryne nearly slips on a stray bit of icing, Lyna nearly topples to the floor trying to save her from impending doom.
And when finally, finally the moment passes and the room descends into stillness once more, it is G’raha Tia who interrupts it once more. He laughs , tears of mirth springing to red eyes as he reaches for the table to steady himself—and misses.
When he hits the floor, still laughing, it spreads to the rest of them.
Krile bursts into laughter, as do many of the others, bolsters when Twelve only knows who lets loose a snort. It makes helping everyone to their feet a struggle that nearly ends in them faceplanting again, Krile having the hardest time of all. Trying to get a man twice her size to his feet was, well, quite a feat!
“Wha— What is all this?” he asked through his laughter, freckled cheeks already wet from watering eyes. “My Nameday isn’t for months !”
“We’re celebrating G’raha’s name day, not G’rahlia’s!” Krile says, face aching from the wide smile and warm laughter. His cheeks flush and the grin on his face shifts from amused to the familiar, sincere glee that she could still vividly remember from a year ago, when he’d come out to her.
“Thank you, Krile,” he whispers, words heavy with a burden that he had long carried, that he could now share with the lot of them without fear of being judged or rejected or any of that ilk.
Red eyes moved from her to take in everyone in the room that had joined them, from the smallest of their efforts to the largest before settling on the bouquet of flowers that sat on the table. He reaches out to touch one of the pink petals, then the white before finally settling on the blue. At last, he finally looks to the small crowd gathered in his apartment, from his foster daughter that loved him with all her heart to young Alisaie who made a show of being cross with him.
“Thank you, everyone,” he finally says, his grin full to bursting, “For…”
He pauses, gesturing into the air at some of the decorations, unable to find words to convey what he wanted. A pleasant laugh follows when Krile reaches out to hand him the crown, ridiculous as he looks the minute he positions it atop his head.
Krile finds her gaze turning from him to the others in the room, to the family he had crafted with his own hands, without the need for something as trivial as blood.
When he speaks again, watery words are warm with affection.
