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mayonnaisetoffees · 3 years

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Mayo's Fic Recs

List of my favourite fics below the cut; this list is a WIP and completely personal taste; a mix of fandom classics and lesser knowns

Please remember to leave comments and kudos for the authors and podficcers!

*shows particular favourites

Fandoms currently included: Spn, Merlin, Les Mis, BatFam

Fics That Changed Me Fundamentally

Loaded March*** by Footloose. Merlin | E | 1.26M(Series)/ 35k (First part) | 188k hits (First part)

The reason SAS Captain Arthur Pendragon can’t keep a communications specialist in Team Excalibur because none of them are good enough. And then Lieutenant Merlin Emrys gets assigned to his squad, and Arthur does everything he can to prove that Merlin isn’t good enough, either. Except he is.

You can read all about my thoughts on Loaded March here, here, and here. Basically this fic series is beautifully written, has absolutely delicious UST, has found family, magic, and high stakes. It’s been part of my life for almost a decade now, I made friends through LM that I still have to this day, and it genuinely changed me as a person. Plus there are 78k of Extras to itch that I Finished Now What scratch. Parts 1-5 have been podficced and you can find them in works inspired by this one in each part.

Down to Agincourt*** by Seperis. Supernatural | E | 1.12M(Series)/ 154k (First part) | 73k hits (First part)

The world’s already over and they’re already dead. All they’re doing now is marking time until the end.

S7!Dean is transported back to the aftermath of where 5x04 The End left off. Much like LM, DtA was one that I avoided for a while. I didn’t think it would be my thing. I’m not usually into End!verse, it sounded so bleak from the summary, and it sounded so long for something I wasn’t sure about. If you’re reading this and nodding along? You are as much a fool as I was. Yes, it’s the end of the world. But it’s not over yet. This is a beautiful journey in what it means to be yourself, how to survive the end of the world, a How-To for Coups, and a study in food as a love language. I only read this fic this year, but like LM, it has genuinely changed me. Map of the World has been podficced.

Supernatural

Let’s start with the current hyperfixation. All of these are at least passively Dean/Cas unless otherwise stated. I've split into ones from my first time around in the SPN fandom and more recent ones because the vibes are actually really different and it took me some time to adjust (Not in a bad way! In a time has passed they have grown as characters way)

Old-School SPN (AKA the Classics my first time around)

Canon-Compliant or Divergent

Home in Motion* by nomdeplume13 M | 232k | 48k hits

Castiel swore he was done with spur of the moment decisions that permanently changed Dean Winchester's life. A year after the angel's most disastrous, his newest may present the largest challenge of dean's life: Fatherhood.

Did someone say kid!fic in canonverse? This is perfect. Canon divergence from the end of S6. Cas saves a baby from a neglectful mother and gives him to Dean to raise. They all move in with Bobby. Great OCs. Bobby considers Cas his son. Listen everything I say here will not be able to begin to encompass how much I love this fic. Just trust me on this one.

Named* by RC_McLachlan M | 95k | 95k hits

Jesus Christ is dead. Somehow, that isn't the worst part of Dean's week.

With a summary like that, need I say more? No but I'm gonna. This is one of the funniest fics I've ever read, but it doesn't take any emotion from the serious moments, if anything it heightens them. There are so many quotes from this I think about all the time. It was written in 2010 and so there's a bit of misogyny/character assassination of Anna in places.

Second Childhood by CloudyJenn (read by exmanhater) G | 16k (1h30) | 10k hits

"Dude, I can't do this whole thing by myself," Dean said with far more desperation leaking into his tone than he liked. It would just be too much to make it through hell and death and Lucifer only to have Castiel bail on him because of a frigging baby.

They beat the Apocalypse (OG-S5) and then Sam gets de-aged by a spell. I've listened to this so many times I know it by heart, it's an ultimate comfort fic to me.

Defy Any and All Expectation* by Tenoko1 (read by Tenoko1) M | 138k (14hrs) | 37k hits

Chuck's newly released books tell of another war between Heaven and Hell. Team Free Will sets out to try to defy prophecy, only to realize there is a lot more at stake and amiss than the not-quite-accurate words of one Prophet of the Lord. Along the way, Dean and Cas' relationship continues to evolve into something neither expected or were prepared for, all of their lives transforming in ways no one could have expected. But with no shortage of cases, monsters, and mayhem, it's going to require the help of new friends and old enemies if they're to have a hope of saving the world one more time. Alternate Season Six.

So this is a re-written version of Tenoko1's The Path We Choose which I don't think is around anymore. By the time I was reading the re-write as each chapter came out, I knew every single line of TPWC and it wasn't all that much shorter. It's such a perfect canon divergence because they are all 100% in-character. If you're into podfic, you already know what an absolute gift 14 hours is, but if you have never tried podfic before, Tenoko1 is a fantastic place to start. Her voice is soothing and energetic and her Cas sometimes comes to mind when I'm reading fic in Misha's place (sorry Misha)

His Fucking Kids 'Verse by 8sword M | 96k(Series)/ 3k (first part) | 26k hits (first part)

Jesus, the school should just have a parking spot labeled, “Reserved for the Novak-Winchesters,” because Dean’s getting sick of having to cruise around the parking lot looking for a spot every time he gets a call from the principal about Emma.

Emma survives and Dean and Cas are raising her and Claire. This fic series will make you laugh, make you cry, and (nowadays) make you wish Emma had survived to be a part of Wayward Sisters.

One Species Too Many by wallmakerrelict E | 22k | 37k hits

While Dean is laid up for a month after breaking his leg on a hunt, Cas decides that it's a perfect time to adopt a litter of kittens. But even though he's gotten better since Purgatory, Cas still isn't quite the same as he was before fixing Sam's head, and being trapped in a cabin with him for weeks on end is making that all the more obvious to Dean. When Sam takes off on a hunt, Dean has to figure out on his own how to navigate his new relationship with Cas while also helping to raise a bunch of fuzzballs that aren't even cute. Not even a little bit. (Well, maybe a little bit.)

Dean breaks his legs, and honey!Cas brings home some kittens to foster. It's achingly sweet and also painful because you know Dean wants to fix Cas but there's nothing to fix. It is tagged for ableism for this.

Tripping* by Hatteress E | 49k | 78k hits

That time the universe decided Dean belonged with Cas and wasn't afraid to pull out the big guns to make it so. Big guns in this case being obsessive fangirls, archangels turned tricksters and overly enthusiastic cupids. Welcome to Dean's life.

Alt!S5 and it is beautiful. Also any fic with Missouri is an automatic win.

Broadway Musical by Grifitings M | 12k | 79k hits

This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle. The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at. Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

Jimmy deserves a sainthood and frankly I don't even want to hear about crack if it's not on the level of the Host yelling at Cas not to touch the butt.

Classic AUs (AKA AUs from my first time around)

Try Something Tuesday by almaasi E | 48k | 144k hits

Dean Winchester teaches a third-grade class. He's new to this whole ‘bisexual’ thing - but by pure happenstance, he meets Castiel: a particularly dapper male librarian who moonlights as a substitute teacher. Dean's curious and Castiel is willing, so why the hell not? Except, fate never intended it to be one-time-only...

This was one of the first spn fics to really really stay with me and it never really left.

Rock 'n' Roll Queer Bar by ChasingRabbits E | 127k(Series)/ 8k (Part1) | 29k hits (Part1)

Ellen and Jo Harvelle run Harvelle's Roadhouse, a bar that unintentionally becomes a beacon for wayward queer souls. Her employees: Dean, the smartass runaway with a big heart and bigger mouth; Castiel, the college drop-out turned hippie; his (surprisingly heterosexual) trouble-making brother Gabriel; and Charlie, who has been told several times that the back room is not to be used for after-hours Dungeons & Dragons games. But there's a lot of love in this place, and a new family for anyone who may otherwise be without.

This series. If you've ever felt unsure or out of place or anxious or just really felt like no-one understood you, this fic is for you. I first found this series when I was coming to terms with my queerness and I genuinely think it was invaluable. Also I am a sucker for the go for a dinner at Cas's family and end up storming out trope.

Play It All Night Long by janie_tangerine (read by Tenoko1) NC17 | 43k (4hrs)

The rom-com-ish one where Dean hosts a late night radio show, Castiel is a regular listener of his who starts calling one day and ends up calling more often than not and Dean finds himself liking it. This, until one day Castiel calls for not exactly petty reasons (just before Dean's brother Sam is visiting with his girlfriend for spring break) and things get very, very crowdy at his place. He also doesn't know it's just the beginning of it. Also features Gabriel, Chuck, Andy, the Roadhouse crew and a huge amount of music quoted. Especially Bob Dylan.

Again, this podfic has got me through many a night of insomnia. Cas calls in after a particularly shitty day and it all goes from there.

New-School SPN (AKA post-2014)

Canon-Compliant or Divergent

Tall Grass by aeli_kindara E | 57k | 28k hits

“I think we should have a garden,” Cas says. Dean looks up from his beer. He hasn’t had that much to drink, but Cas still has a vague look of unreality about him, a splash of living color that doesn’t fit in the bunker’s echoing stillness. Dean didn’t hear him coming. A lot of the time, Cas is so unobtrusive it feels like Dean has the bunker to himself, with Sam away. Dean shakes his head to clear it. “A — garden?” he repeats.

There is a reason you will see this recced time and time again. It healed parts of me I didn't know needed healing.

So Says the Sword* by komodobits E | 85k | 73k hits

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’ Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected

I saw ssts mentioned in like every single If you're getting back into the fandom READ THIS rec list. For good reason. It's described as "canon-adjacent in that seasons one to three happened exactly the same, but when Dean goes to Hell, he is not raised by Castiel". It's one of the most interesting concepts I've read and it's one of those fics where the writing style will stick with you. Castiel POV in a way you've never read before.

Aching in the Absence of You* by sobsicles E | 95k | 9k hits (in 5 days)

Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back. He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales. "Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time. By nightfall, Cas is gone.

If you don't already know sobsicles, I am delighted to introduce you to the person who will smash you to pieces with a hammer to put you back together Kintsugi-style. This one is post-finale but without 15x18 (it'll make sense as it goes). Cas says he's going to leave again and again Dean doesn't ask him to stay. Full of lines so beautiful they'd make Shakespeare weep, Sobsicles has this way of writing that is so evocative and paints such a clear picture. Fair warning, if you're Dean-coded, this might be A Lot.

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination)** by sobsicles E | 108k | 25k hits

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next. ~~~ Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want." "What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before." "Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out." "Easier said than done."

Yes, two sobsicles recs back to back. This one I read first and it still holds such a special place in my heart. A sign of a good fic is being able to picture it perfectly. The sign of an amazing fic is that when reading this I was so in Dean's shoes I could feel a pool cue between my hands and Baby behind my back. And I sobbed like a baby in this. It has probably my favourite ending ever. It's genuinely beautiful. If you don't read another on this list, read this one.

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara M | 52k | 14k hits

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean. (A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

The ultimate Cas character study and interwoven with poetry.

So There It Is, I've Said It All by PorcupineGirl (read by Ceewelsh) G | 4k | 13k hits

"Why, do you have something you need to say to me that you don't think I'll like?" I think I'm in love with you. "Yeah. I guess so."

Dean figures out he's in love with Cas then can't stop thinking it. This is genuinely beautiful and if you've ever had trouble actually saying the thing you're thinking, you'll relate to Dean here. I recently did the podfic for this.

you won't find this place alone by amidsizedfrog G | 9.5k |

When Claire said she was dropping out of college to pursue hunting full time, Dean said, “right,” and left the room. Or, the cross-generation conversation about formal education, choosing your own path and figuring out what it looks like to find a family. Or, in other words: "But what I do have is a GED and a give-'em-hell-attitude, and I'll figure it out." - Dean Winchester

This is a beautiful look at education in the hunter world, and I love anything that looks at Dean and Bobby's relationship and this does it perfectly. Also best cameo ever.

Seek to Know You Better by ahurston E | 33k | 23k hits

Dean and Cas, a long stretch of highway, and 36 questions empirically designed to make two people fall in love. As if they weren't already.

This is perfect. It has a lovely slow pace like it has the vibes of an indie film if that makes sense? Like it's two guys going from place to place talking. It was an instant favourite.

Newer AUs (AKA more recent AUs)

And This, Your Living Kiss* by opal_bullets M | 57k | 69k hits

Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen.

When I asked which fics were absolute must-reads for someone who'd been out of the fandom a few years, this was said repeatedly. But what really got me to read it was everyone actually told me more about what it meant to them than just the summary. It's a study in poetry, a study in learning who you are and who you used to be, and a reminder that it's never too late.

The Graveyard Shift* by riseofthefallenone, PurgatoryJar E | 620k | 175k hits

Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

A fantastic magical realism fic - magical creatures live and work with humans. Gabe and Cas run a coffee shop, Dean is a fireman, and the burn is slow and delicious and the intrigue kept me reading for like a week every single spare minute.

Painted Angels by WinJennster E | 106k | 162k hits

Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing. Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

The first part of this I actually saved back when I was first in the fandom but I never got around to reading it (I had a To Read folder of 100+ fics that I absolutely dove into when I got back into spn) and the rest of the series finished in 2016 so I'm counting it in this section not the other. On the one hand, I wish I'd read this when it first came out. It's beautiful and heartbreaking, and so visual. On the other hand, I think I appreciated it a lot more now than I would have seven years ago. The parallel of me coming back to the old fandom that I loved dearly with Cas coming back to see someone and places he loved so much really hit. (Although coming back to the spn fandom was much easier and much less heartbreak!)

Finale Fix-Its (yeah fuck you Dabb that this has to be a whole category)

The Goldenrod Revisions by aethylas M | 66k | 15k hits

A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.

Script format re-write of 15x19 and 15x20 into a 5-episode finale fix-it. As far as I'm concerned, this and chocolatecakecas's American Pie fanvid are the Supernatural finale.

break the skin (to break the barriers)* by sobsicles M | 30k | 9k hits

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment. ~~~ Dean is silent for a long, tense moment, then he gruffly says, "It's not for banishing the angels. It's to summon them. So, it doesn't—it's not to get rid of 'em, but to draw 'em in." Mitzi can't help but glance up at him at that. His voice is so heavy with so much unexplained pain, and she doesn't understand why, or what angels have to do with it. She knows religion can impact people. She's very aware that it can get complicated, and that it can be a huge source of pain for someone, but Dean sounds grievously wronged, somehow, as if it's a truly personal thing. She pushes through, focusing back on her job, clearing her throat before murmuring, "Well, I guess we all want angels to visit us sometimes." "Just the one," Dean mumbles. "Your guardian angel?" Mitzi asks. Dean breathes out, "Something like that. As close to one as an angel will ever get."

Therapy through getting tattoos and telling your life story to someone who obviously doesn't think it's real. Outsider!POV not just done well, but done literally the best.

Kingdom Come by ahurston E | 17k | 10k hits

Cas wakes up on the coast of Maine. He makes his way home.

I don't know if this counts as finale fix-it as it's more fuck the finale we're ignoring that. There's just so much love and care in this fic.

The Family Business by chai_lattes M | 16k | 5.5k hits

It's all over. It's been weeks since Chuck's defeat and Cas' return from the Empty. There are no threats on the horizon, no apocalypses to stop, but there's something that keeps the Winchesters from being happy. Something that's maybe always been there. On their way back from a hunt, they find John Winchester, back from the dead.

If you're anything like me, you start rubbing your grubby little hands together at the tag John Winchester's A+ Parenting like yes let's address this! This is one of the best examples of John coming back and how it jars with the life that they have built. Also Claire and Jack getting to share screentime!

Merlin

If I have a forever fandom, it's Merlin. I've always kept one foot in this fandom, and it introduced me to fandom, and most importantly to podfic which kinda had an impact. All Merthur unless stated.

Canon-Verse

Seven Magpies by syllic (read by lunchee) E | 33k (3hr15) | 58k hits

Arthur opened his eyes a minute later to the sight of seven magpies streaking across the top of the clearing, their shapes dark against the white clouds and the muted grey of the sky. He tried to remember what it was that seven magpies meant—he'd had a nurse who had sung the rhyme to him as a child—but couldn't. Arthur wakes up somewhere he doesn't recognise, but where he clearly belongs.

Okay so this is an AU but it's Canon-AU so it's going here. Fantastic role reversal fic that you will be thinking about for weeks.

and from your grace, i fell by TheDragon (read by Ceewelsh) T | 4.6k (41mins) | 13k hits

“Where’s Merlin?” he asks the maid. “Where’s that idiot of a Court Sorcerer?!” “Begging your pardon, Your Majesty. I thought you knew,” the maid replies, not daring to look him in the eyes. “He’s taken ill.” “And he couldn’t be bothered to tell me himself that he would be unable to attend today’s council meeting?” Arthur questions, voice full of acid. “He hasn’t woken since he collapsed two days ago, Sire,” the maidservant says, blissfully unaware that what she’s saying the power to stop Arthur’s heart in its tracks.

When I first read this, it had me completely transfixed. I could not stop reading. It was so raw and so full of emotion. I was then lucky enough to get TheDragon in our exchange, so I did a podfic for it and it's probably the most proud I've been of one.

Modern AU

The Student Prince* by FayJay (read by FayJay) M | 145k (15hrs) | 696k hits

A Modern day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love...

A classic is a classic for a reason. I'm also pretty sure this introduced me to podfics so like special place in my heart x2. Did you know if you filter AO3 by hits on Merlin, this has 426k more hits than the second result? Now that is a Fandom Classic.

Drastically Redefining Protocol* by rageprufrock (read by lunchee) E | 46k (5hr30) | 269k hits

In which Prince Arthur meets Merlin and all hell promptly breaks loose.

As I always say, if this can happen to me and I still love the fic, nothing is going to change that. Arthur hides from his duties in a cupboard and gets stuck in there with a chainsmoking med student.

Fundamental Imperfections by Starlingthefool (read by bravenclawsome) M | 12k (1hr35) | 123k hits

In which an argument about Dickens leads to a Twitter scandal, broken bones, midnight conversations, and transatlantic longing. (Or, an AU with Arthur and Merlin as moderately famous authors.)

This fic has everything: Charles Dickens, long distance texting, Morgana choking a Sherlock cosplayer with his own scarf. This is the ultimate comfort fic and I compare all fics to this even when they're incomparable. I never read the sequel because it was WIP and I was waiting for it to complete, it hasn't been updated since 2015 and apparently ends on an unhappy note, so if you're going to read the sequel you have been warned.

Les Mis

Modern!AU

Overzealous Oddities by YassHomo e/R, Courf/Cosette/Marius, Comb/Ép | G | 6.4k | 4k hits

Courfeyrac: Remember when I smashed our tv and we laughed about it? Enjolras: No. Courfeyrac: Let me rephrase Courfeyrac: I've smashed our tv, lets laugh about it.

I love me a text fic and this is in my opinion the best one around. Just look at that summary. I have quoted that so many times.

But Paris was a very old city and we were young* by GingerNinjaAbi E/R, Courf/Jehan | M | 99k | 42k hits

Perhaps somewhere in between all the cups of coffee, shots of tequila, sunny March days, terrible lumpy jumpers, love, cigarettes, drunken nights and the desire to change the world they'll all leave Paris with a degree in something. Or not. Grantaire's money is on no. But he's a pessimist who's hopelessly in love, so perhaps his opinion shouldn't count.

The ULTIMATE modern!AU tbh.

Tagged by Salomonderiel E/R, Courf/Jehan | E | 155k | 28k hits

So there's this artist. He could probably be compared to Banksy, but he's a lot more... cynical. He shares rooms with a poet who braids his hair with flowers, in a flat near Covent Garden they rent from a short-tempered shop keeper with a penchant for fans and who'd do anything if you mentioned Poland. Sometimes, the three of them will go and deface public buildings in London whilst completely smashed off their heads. And then there's this, shall we say, 'revolutionary'. He has a band of other revolutionaries, who all meet at this cafe by Borough Market. He shares rooms with his best mate, a philosophy student, spends too much time with a flirty guy who has a thing for poets, goes boxing with a guy in a red vest, wants to punch the wet sop who drools on the blonde waitress and is getting tired of this guy who keep breaking his laptops through sheer dumb luck. Thank god the hypochondriac's there to keep an (slightly too) attentive eye on their stress levels. The revolutionary thinks the graffiti artist's work is a waste of space. The artist thinks the revolutionary's campaigns are a waste of time. And all the while, the poet and the flirt drool over each other in the background...

This is perfect and it's funny and it's beautiful and it rips my heart out multiple times.

Canon

To Be Free by kjack89 (read by Ceewelsh) Gen, Cosette/Marius | T | 3.8k (32mins) | 375 hits

Three blows from a bayonet had transfixed Combeferre’s breast, followed by a fall from the barricade as he rapidly lost first blood and then consciousness. But neither of these, it seemed, was enough to kill him, as much as later he might perhaps wish that they were.

I read this because it was on a list kjack89 did of their favourite fics which don't necessarily have the same hits traffic. It's nothing I would have usually read (canon era, not e/R, MCD) but I am so glad I gave it a go. It's a study on what if Combeferre had survived the barricades too and the guilt. This stayed with me for days afterwards until I eventually messaged kjack89 to get permission to podfic it.

BatFam

Canonish (I don't know differences between canons but these are all they're superheros fics)

Robins United by laceymcbain (read by reena_jenkins) Gen | T | 49k (6h15)/ 19k (2h25) (First part) | 103k hits

Bullets, knives, a three story fall, even a fucking crowbar hadn't managed to keep Jason down permanently, but Dick Grayson (and the rest of his "family") was going to kill him with kindness.

The ultimate batbros series. Also if you haven't heard reena_jenkins' podfics before, you are welcome. Pre-pandemic I took a lot of public transport and reena_jenkins kept me sane.

batcoons by drakefeathers (read by reena_jenkins) Gen | G | 6k (49mins) | 14k hits

Jason and raccoons have a lot in common. (Additionally: his so-called family are much bigger pests than the stray animals hanging around his safehouse.)

This is funny, it's heartwarming, and it's a really good character study.

Here Comes the Sun by batsy_rocks Clark/Bruce | T | 19k | 20k hits

Clark Kent is a kind-hearted reporter working in the big city. Bruce Wayne is a stressed dad of four with no idea of what he's doing. Then they meet.

Bruce Wayne is a Tired Single Dad™. It's genuinely such a sweet fic.

#fic rec #spn fic rec #merlin fic rec #les mis fic rec

23 notes · View notes

bisluthq · 3 years

Note

Hey! I'm fairly new here and I have a pretty uncommon take on Kaylor. But I just wanna start off by saying I try my best to be as supportive of LGBT people as possible and if they're both bisexual, then I would be 100% okay with that! I'm not trying to "defend their heterosexuality" or anything, I think that's really weird

Okay, so my personal theory is that Kaylor did happen, but that Taylor and Karlie are both straight. I know that might sound contradictory, but I say this based on my own personal experiences based on how I am with my best friend. I think Karlie and Taylor's relationship might have been similar in some ways to ours

Right, so I'm straight and I'm not into women in the gay kind of way (but it's completely cool that some girls are), and I have this roommate who's gorgeous. Really gorgeous, she's like a 10/10 "I would sell my kidney to look like you" kind of girl. She's very attractive, she has like tan skin and long legs and gorgeous brown hair and pretty eyes and nice lips and just like… she's just very good looking. I'm definitely jealous of her body, I won't even pretend I'm not 😪 I lowkey hate her because of it (jk)

We've been living together since not long before COVID started, and we're very good friends. There were three of us before, but our other roommate went back home to stay with her parents until in person classes are back on and we agreed to it and worked something out because she has really bad anxiety so we understood her reasoning for it

Anyway so it's just been us two and because we've been at home a lot during this time instead of out for most of the day like before, we've gotten to know each other a lot better and have become a lot closer. We were already friends from before, but now we're like super close besties, we've been hanging out a lot together and playing board games, watching movies, helping each other with essays, just having long conversations about anything and everything, etc

Like it's been so nice having a best friend that I can be this close to now because I haven't had a best friend since I was a kid

So my friend and I were having like a conversation last year about how hard it's been in quarantine not being able to go on dates and how we miss kissing people, and so we decided to just like, make out for fun you know. I mean, there's not really anything that's inherently romantic or sexual about making out, that's just society that says that. But tbh I think making out with your friends if you want to should be normalized, it's fun and it can even be emotional sometimes. It's not that different from hugging people

After a couple of weeks or so, I think we got bored of just making out with each other and decided to like, fully hook up. It started off because we were modelling lingerie for each other for banter and were pretending we were each other's runway judges and then I think we just decided to hook up with each other as like part of the whole "game". I can't remember who initiated it now, I think it might have been me as a joke lol

Like just in a platonic way for fun, as a kind of substitute until we can go back into society

And tbh I always expected hooking up with a woman to be like mediocre and boring and awkward, but although it was a bit hard to get the hang of at first and there was a learning curve, it's actually very enjoyable. Like I was very surprised actually at how hot it can be, I think I can maybe see why bisexual women and lesbians like doing it

Anyway we both liked it and we just carried on hooking up on the regular and it's been like 8 months now and tbh I just think it's very sweet and heartwarming, like it actually makes me feel a little emotional how we're close enough and care about each other enough that we can even help each other out with the physical intimacy side of things so that we don't get sexually frustrated while we're stuck in lockdown

I just think it's really cool and we even sleep in the same bed most of the time now because tbh what's the point in sleeping alone when you can sleep in the same bed as someone else? It's nicer, like you can cuddle and stuff

Anyway, I think that maybe Kaylor's relationship might have been similar. I think they're both straight but they became really close friends in a short space of time, and that their friendship was so intense that it became physical but in a platonic way

I think lesbians and bisexual women are amazing and I have so much respect for you guys for accepting yourselves in a society that tries to erase you, and I think there definitely needs to be more wlw representation on TV and in movies

But at the same time, I would also like there to be more close female friendships like the one that me and my friend have where you can just talk about everything together and do things that society usually reserves for romantic partners, but in a platonic way. Because female friendship is really important and beautiful, whether that's between straight women like me and my friend who I think is probably straight too, or between queer women because one thing I've learnt during my short time on this blog is how queer women can have very close platonic friendships with other queer women too

I think society just has overly strict ideas of "straight" and "gay". Like for some people, they would hear about two women sleeping together and think "Oh that's gay", but not necessarily because straight women can enjoy sleeping with other women too, like it's normal 🤷‍♀️

I think it's just a result of women being a lot more physically beautiful than men are, like straight women really got the short end of the stick tbh compared to straight men

I also think it's because women are so oversexualized in the media, and obviously straight girls see that too and so we sort of internalize that attraction to women because we're so used to seeing women being presented in a sexual way? Except it's not real attraction with us like how it is for queer girls

Like I'm very much "attracted" to my friend, she's genuinely stunning and just very hot tbh. But I still identify as straight because it's just a case of what I mentioned above, it's a "fake" attraction. And also because men are afraid to compliment other men because it's seen as "gay", but women can be fully confident in their sexuality and still recognize other women's beauty and sex appeal. You see it all the time in instagram comments, and I really love how we're all so supportive of each other like that

Like I can be fully confident in my sexuality and yet still say that some women like my friend are gorgeous as hell and also 100 times better looking than most men I've seen. I'm very much obsessed with some women's appearances but in a platonic way

And I just love the concept of "girl crushes" and I think that from a feminism viewpoint, it's beautiful that we're focusing on other girls and showing love towards other girls too, instead of just to men who, let's be real, don't even fully appreciate it half of the time

I am going to be sad when we all have to return to life as usual and my friend and I won't be able to spend as much time together anymore. I'm dreading it tbh, I don't want it to end yet. And it really sucks that the physical side of our friendship will probably have to stop too once our other roommate comes back because I think she'd definitely misunderstand the situation and think it's something different than it actually is if she ever saw us kissing or something. I really am going to miss it a lot though, I really like how things currently are and it's just really really nice and I don't want it to change :/

Btw I'm sorry if I sounded fetishistic or offensive with any of this, I just get a bit jealous sometimes that you guys get to date girls and we're just stuck with men. Honestly if it wasn't for all of the homophobia and the struggles that you all have to face and the fact that it would feel disrespectful to the LGBT community, I would probably really wish I could change my sexuality to be bisexual or gay instead because I just think women are better. Sometimes I really do wish I was into women in that way because dating girls just sounds so much more appealing to me (in a non fetishizing weird way) but unfortunately I'm stuck with dating men 🤦‍♀️ But I also know I'm lucky and privileged to be straight even though most men are mediocre and kinda gross and I don't mean to be disrespectful because I know you all have to face homophobia and other LGBT difficulties and it really sucks, people are awful. There's nothing wrong with women dating women or men dating men at all, society is just ugly and bigoted

Anyway, does anybody else have a similar sort of take on Kaylor where they think they could have both been straight and just had a very close friendship with a physical side to it? I think it would explain a lot. But like I said, this is just a theory of mine based on my own situation, and I'm also open to the idea that it was an actual relationship and that they're both into women for real, not just fake "into women" like I am.

Also pls feel free to call me out if I accidentally said anything offensive towards LGBT people, I tried my best but if I made a mistake anywhere pls let me know and I'll avoid it next time!

You’re not offensive. Please stop apologizing. And we’re gonna come back to the Kaylor stuff another time because... Honey. You and I need to have a conversation for a bit.

So firstly, I’m not trying to like “diagnose” you and at the end of the day it’s your choice what you want to call yourself but... tbh you might not be straight. Sexuality is fluid not static and exists on a spectrum not in absolutes. It’s not like it’s straight, 50/50 bi, gay and you’re born knowing and there’s no room for anything else. That’s not true. There’s a lot of room in between all of these and labels can change over time. We’re people, not cereal brands, and sometimes we don’t even KNOW the word for what we might be. I’m tagging a tag for you from when we asked people to share their label journeys for you to see. It’s not simple or easy and it’s not just because of external stuff - it’s because figuring this out internally is HARD. If you found yourself having such an intense friendship it became physical, repeatedly, you liked it a lot, you still sleep in the same bed and continue to share all your thoughts and you don’t want any of that to end... I’m not sure you’re Kinsey 0. And I think you might lowkey have a girlfriend dude.

You can obviously prefer men but like... hun I reaaallly don’t think you’re completely straight.

Also: it’s okay to say “I see myself winding up with a man and this is a situationship for right now!” but that doesn’t make you straight because again, sexuality is a spectrum and you can manifest a particular kind of endgame while experiencing other things along the way.

But here’s where you really got me: “most men are mediocre and kinda gross” and “women being a lot more physically beautiful than men are, like straight women really got the short end of the stick tbh compared to straight men” because that’s the kind of thing I used to say in my Bi 1.0 era before I ID’d as a lesbian for a bit and before Harry Styles (KING 🥺) made me bi for real. Hun, no. Straight women like men. Tbh BI women like men. I genuinely, unironically, find Harry and Timmy and Matt Smith to be sexy beasts and I would do dirty things to the former two but maybe not the latter irl in 2021 but yes also him if I could be on that Spain trip with him and Karen where they got sloshed and which I think of often. These men are genuinely fucking beautiful to me in the same way Taylor is and Di Silvers is (okay she’s prettier than all of them but like same ~vibe) and like Megan Thee Stallion is and Indira Varma in everything but especially GOT and Gillian Anderson and Keira Knightley. Like those women are HOT to me and SO. ARE. THE. MEN.

Straight women find SO MANY DUDES hot. So many. Starting from objectively pretty options I just cannot personally understand like Chris Evans all the way through to bitches who are outchea simping for wrestlers and Cole Sprouse. Do I understand? No. But like... that’s straight girl culture and ours is not to judge.

If you’re struggling to find men hot then... you might be gay.

Also, I’m not sure what you mean by “fake attraction”. Like queer women - especially femme women which I assume you very much are - experience the same kinds of feelings straight girls do. We have women we want to be like and look like and find enviable (me and Oenone Forbat) and women we find aesthetically gorgeous (me and Anya Taylor Joy) and we have extremely close female friends who we can spend hours on end spilling our guts to - as you say female friendships are truly special - and without going into personal people that you don’t know, that’s me and Cam and Sim right? I literally talk to them for hours. Like those are not gay feelings. And yes we can chat about those kinds of feelings with straight girls and call them “girl crushes” and not immediately get “caught out” because they experience this exact shit too.

But here’s the thing. They never do and I don’t want in the cases above to fuck these women. It’s not sexual.

The moment I can actually imagine fucking the women in question that’s... gay.

Like it’s not “fake attraction” it’s literally just gay. That’s how we desire women. We want to fuck them. Not all women. Not always. But sometimes we want to get under or on top of one and just really truly fucking make each other moan with pleasure.

I have no idea if Karlie or Taylor are into women. They could both literally be straight. I have no idea.

But I have a better idea about you.

Hun, you’re fucking your roommate/best friend and don’t want to stop.

You’re not “into women”.

You’re into this woman.

And possibly into women more generally.

So I know it’s weird to have to be the one to tell you this, and if you want to keep chatting via anon or in my DMs or if you want me to try collate resources for you from around the web but...

Like.

Dude.

You’re a whole ass part of the rainbow.

Welcome to the community you thought you weren’t a part of earlier today 🌈 ❤️

It’s nice here, sure there’s homophobia, but at least we get to fuck girls and man is it good.

#agony aunat #share your label journey #roommate anon <3

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xfanfics · 4 years

Photo

Destiel Fic Rec List Part 7

Last Updated in October 2014. Posted in May 2020 for posterity. Listed in no particular order - the total rec list will have ~250 fics. Header graphic used with permission.

This part of the list contains: 39 fics.

Other Destiel Rec Lists: [1]. [2]. [3]. [4]. [5]. [6]. [7].

Bare Your Throat and Have Me by highermagic E | 4k | AU, PWP, a/b/o

Castiel and Dean have only been mated for a few months, but Dean knows how this goes by now.

Deterioration by highermagic E | 33k | Hot, AU, Cop!Dean, Mystery

Dean has a gift – he can see things. Things that others wouldn't see, motive and calm control between the splatters of blood and fractured mirrors. He solves crimes others simply can't. When bodies are piling up all around him, Dean starts to feel as though he's drowning in it, falling under the weight of his own helpless observations, until he finds something unbreakable. Unwavering. Castiel – if only the man was as good for him as he appears.

Try Something Tuesday by almaasi E | 48k | Fluff, Teacher AU, Librarian Cas

Human AU. Dean Winchester teaches a third-grade class. He's new to this whole ‘bisexual’ thing - but by pure happenstance, he meets Castiel: a particularly dapper male librarian who moonlights as a substitute teacher. Dean's curious and Castiel is willing, so why the hell not? Except, fate never intended it to be one-time-only.

Angel-Cuffed by Luciel89 E | 15k | CANON!verse

Dean wakes up to find himself handcuffed to his angel. Both are annoyed, Sam finds it hilarious and awkward situations await them. But the longer they're tied together, the more things between them start to change...

The Bet List ❤ by StevieCas M | 55k | Fluff, AU, Underage, wing!kink

"That bet list was the worst thing you've ever come up with, Gabe. If it wasn't for it, I would never have thought about such things. It's bad enough being an earthbound angel, it's bad enough being considered a weirdo even by angel standards. Did I have to be gay as well? Do I even represent a minority or is it just me out there?

I love the world of this fic--and Dean and Cas' relationship dynamic is perfect.

Ad Astra ❤ by nhixxie T | 17k | Angst

One day Cas says, "Stars died for you, Dean Winchester", against ruffled hair perched atop sun kissed skin and sleepy eyes. Dean stirs, moving to spread his palms against the contour of Cas’ back, tips of fingers languidly strumming the indentations of his spine. One, two, three, four, he counts, the closest he could get to scientifically studying the anatomy of the human body. "Is this some physics crap again?" He frowns with eyes closed. Cas smiles softly. "Far from it. "Dean’s fingers play at the base of his back, ninth thoracic vertebrae, Cas notes. "Then tell me all about it.”

Read it and weep. If this were published, I would buy it.

Sensitive by nevergotwings E | 1k | wing!kink

Curiosity sparks when Dean gets the urge to touch Castiel's wings.

An Exercise in 'Worthless' ❤ by beastofthesky

M | 26k | AU, Tattoos

"I mean, you’re–" He gestures at Cas, in his neat oxford shirt and nice pants. “–and I’m a high school dropout who tattoos for a living." Wherein Dean makes a hefty living as a tattoo artist who owns the space next to Gabriel's cafe. Sam attends the local university. When Gabe's cousin comes to live with him while starting grad school at Sam's university, Dean thinks for sure that all his negative karma's coming to bite him in the ass because Cas clearly has a thing for Sam. No one would ever choose him over Sam. That's just logic.

Perfection everywhere. Dean's lack of self-worth is explored, and there are tattoos.

Of ties and wings by perpetuallycaffinated E | 4k | Hot, PWP, wing!kink

Jealousy, ties and and impatient angel. Also, wings.

pie | by perpetuallycaffinated E | 3k | Hot, PWP

Dean uses pie to eat out Castiel. That's pretty much it.

I Say, But I Mean by inplayruns T | 4k | Coffee Shop AU

Dean runs a bed & breakfast. Cas works in a coffeeshop.

Heavenly Delights by TamrynEradani T | 2k | Fluff, Coffee Shop AU

Gabriel owns Heavenly Delights, the coffee shop Cas works at and on the day before Thanksgiving, Cas sees someone looking down so he brings him a hot chocolate, and Gabriel conspires to get them together.

New Eyes by ozzutly E | 1k | Canon!Verse

Dean sees Castiel's true form. He decides he likes it.

Resonance by definitely_indecisive G | 1k | Canon!Verse, Soul Bond

The battered and abused presence had poked warily out, almost as if expecting harm. He let his grace drift forward to meet the soul instantly, putting off all of the warmth he could muster. The presence seemed to stutter for a second, before melding itself into Castiel's grace. He allowed the soul to do so, cradling it with his core. He could feel the tiredness and abuse from the poor thing, yet also the amazing light it gave off as it started to slowly heal because of his grace. He could tell this was the most unique soul he had ever met, and that he wouldn't forget the feeling of the presence for all of millennia.

My Roots Take Flight by KismetJeska M | 125k | Reverse!verse, s4 AU

After forty years in Hell, Dean’s more than willing to accept the offer: become a guardian angel and earn his freedom. But his new ward seems destined to hunt alongside Sam, and there are secrets in Heaven that the angels don’t want found out. Dean’s going to have to choose between his duty and the people he loves- and to work out just where Castiel fits in.

Angel Airlines by dancingloki E | 19k | Hot, Airline AU

Dean is an airline pilot with a raging hard-on for his head flight attendant. Fluffy fluffy fluff.

El Tango de Amor by literaryoblivion E | 16k | AU, Fluff, Angst,

Every Tuesday and Thursday, Dean leaves, is gone for two to three hours, and comes home sweaty and exhausted to the apartment he and his brother Sam share. Sam had asked him where he went once, and Dean had said he was working out, which technically wasn’t a lie. What he was doing was definitely giving him a workout, just not in the traditional sense. In all actuality though, Dean was leaving every Tuesday and Thursday for a dance class. A dance class taught by a one Castiel Novak.

Ugly Sweater!Verse ❤ ❤ by nerdylittledude E | 193k | Canon!verse,Fluff, Post s5

If they really go back and think about it... it all started with a tree. A Christmas tree, that is. Castiel is human now, and the apocalypse is not only over, it's been averted. Sam's away at NYU, finally finishing law school, and Dean's stuck in what is probably the most awkward situation of his life. He's not exactly sure how he ended up sharing a flat with Cas in Media, Pennsylvania, but he does know the curious would-be angel is sort of derailing his plans for a life of decadence and booze. Cas is trying to make the best of his humanity by exploring human holidays. Dean can't exactly complain because he's pretty much the reason Cas got his wings clipped in the first place. Dean didn't actually want to fall in love, but how was he supposed to know it would all start with a goddamn tree?

My favorite fic ever. I don't know how many times I've read it. There is switching, fluff, angst, and slow building romance. I will rec this forever.

More Than Alien Mojo by remivel

E | 29k | Men in Black AU, Fluff,

Dean was one of Men in Black's best agents. In fact, he's been knee deep in extraterrestrial crap his whole life, and he's gone through more apocalypses than he could care to remember. He thought he's seen it all-- until he and his partner, Sam, were sent out to a routine meteorite crash inspection. What was supposed to be a meteorite turned out to be a golden spaceship, and instead of hitchhiking intergalactic pathogens, it was an alien that took the form of a human male. A very naked human male. Soon, they discovered that this alien named 'Castiel' was a refugee from a war-torn galaxy.The first of his kind to ever venture to Earth, Castiel agreed to share information about his galaxy and his race in exchange for his relocation on Earth. The only catch was: since Castiel was a new alien species, nobody knew what he was capable of, whether he was as harmless as E.T., or as dangerous as the Predator. And it was Dean's job to keep an eye on him and assess just how much of a threat Castiel could be, and if necessary, eliminate him. It wasn't a job Dean was looking forward to doing. Especially since he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off him, naked or not.

Come On With the Rain by remivel E | 36k | High School AU, dubcon

When Castiel was 15, his life changed. In one tragic instant, he lost his parents, and he was forced to live with his Uncle Bobby in Lawrence, Kansas. There he met the Winchester boys, Sam and Dean, who were living next door. He thought Sam was pleasant, and Dean, well, Dean was special. Three years passed and Castiel’s relationship with the boys developed in an unexpected way. Sam became his best friend. But Dean was a different story. Dean was not Castiel’s friend. He was a neighbor, a classmate, the brother of Castiel’s best friend, and the guy who worked part time at his uncle’s salvage yard. That was all. But on the rare times that Dean asked Castiel for help, Castiel couldn’t find it in him to turn him down. Because this was Dean. And the answer would never be “no” when it came to Dean.

Crossroads State by Mercy M | 51k | AU

Castiel has a nice predictable structured life teaching high school, even if he happens to be overqualified for it. Then this guy moves in around the corner and literally knocks him on his ass.

Heart of Glass by omphalos E | 17k | Canon!Verse

He's the one who was punished, severely, because of his feelings for Dean, but who still gave up everything for him in the end. Surely there should exist between them a better level of comprehension than this.

Domesticated by kototyph E | 15k | AU

Being the only angel in the entire Pacific Northwest can be tiring, even if these days Castiel spends more of his time shoveling manure than fighting off the hordes of hell. It's an occupational hazard, unfortunately; he earns most of his living rehabilitating wild animals a few miles outside Spokane. Wild animals like Dean, for instance— a mountain lion who's entirely too smart for his own good. There's a man in Castiel's dreams named Dean too, but that part's just a huge coincidence.

Excite by perpetuallycaffinated E | 3k | Crack, wing!kink

"Sam Winchester, I am going to carnally worship your brother whether you are in this room or not.

Snapshots 'Verse ❤ by highermagic E | 60k [WIP] | AU, Wing!kink, a/b/o, omega!dean

A series of one-shots following the meeting, courting and eventual love between an Angel doctor named Castiel and an Angel teacher by the name of Dean.

Less of a WIP, more of a series of one-shots. Rowan's worldbuilding is lovely, and the sex is perfect as usual. EDIT: Apparently this has been removed.

Angel's Wild ❤ by riseofthefallenone E | 389k | AU, H/C, Wing!kink

But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels. Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God, protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right? That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

Perfection. Go read it now.

Sharing Hands by almaasi E | 6k | Hot, Canon!Verse

Dean feels something strange when he touches himself, and realises Cas has been using him as a vessel ever since he came back from Purgatory.

The Good Samaritan Rule by manic_intent E | 6k | AU, wing!kink

Written for deancaskink: "Dean and Castiel are both angels and brothers-in-arms. During a battle, Cas's wings get hurt and [it's] up to Dean to help him out. In the process, Cas finds out how sensitive his wings are and well Dean is Dean no matter what his form [is], so this leads to lovely first time sex." God never made humans. Instead, he made the angels in his image, and on the sixth day he made the is him, and gave them free will.

How (thanks to Gabriel) Dean and Castiel (accidentally) raised each other (and Sam) ❤ by Vera_Dragonmuse E | 69k | AU, Sam/Gabriel

In which, Gabriel meddles with the time line and Castiel becomes Dean's angel rather sooner than intended.

Out of the Deep ❤ by riseofthefallenone E | 488k | AU, h/c

Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep. It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep. Castiel should have listened better.

It's long, but worth it.

Feathers by brightly_lit M | 90k | Angst, Wing!kink, D/s

In an alternate season 5 scenario, Dean, Sam, and twenty of their closest hunter friends stopped the apocalypse by closing the gates to heaven, hell, and purgatory. Now working with his former hunter buddies at Ellen's security company, Dean doesn't know what to make of his weird new coworker who always wears a trenchcoat and leaves behind feathers everywhere he goes. He especially doesn't know that, cut off from the power of heaven, the constantly falling feathers mean his new friend is dying. "Creation cried out against the injustice of a righteous man in hell. I answered its cry.

Vita Nuova ❤ by wordaccordingtofangirls M | 61k | Teacher AU

AU. Dean Winchester takes a job as a teaching assistant to get his little brother into a prestigious academy. He doesn't quite expect such long nights and snobby kids, but the real surprise is professor Castiel Novak: or falling in love with him, that is.

Like a Parched Land by twoskeletons E | 8k | reverse!verse

Written for the following prompt: "Reverse!verse: Castiel is the Righteous Man and Dean is the angel who drags his ass out of Hell." This is an AU version of episodes 5x01 through 5x03.

The Cabin by bookkbaby E | 16k | Canon!Verse, Wing!kink

For an angel, the building of a Nest is sacred. Dean doesn't understand. Written for the 2013 DCBB.

Pies and Prejudice by linoresearch E | 97k | AU

Dean didn’t even want to enter this damn competition. He was happy with his life, more or less. It might not look like much from the outside, or to a younger brother headed towards a big time law career, but it wasn’t so bad that Dean needed to scrabble around for any opportunity to make a change – particularly not one as stupid as this. He’s going to throttle Sam the next time he sees him, for getting him involved in this ridiculous Bake-Off TV show. It’s bad enough that Dean has to cook in front of people he doesn’t know; he now has to go through the humiliation of being judged on it too. Its humiliation piled on humiliation, and to make matters worse Dean has to play nice with all the other suckers involved, like that rich dick-bag Castiel Novak. God, he hates that guy, and he hates that someone so awful has such a frustratingly fine ass. Written for the Dean/Castiel Big Bang 2013

The Breath of All Things ❤ by KismetJeska T | 65k | AU, H/C Angst,

Dean Winchester was twenty-six years old when a car accident killed his father and left him paralysed from the waist down. A year and a half later, Dean is in a wheelchair and lives in a care home in Kansas, where he spends his days waiting to die. It's only when Castiel Novak starts volunteering at the care home that Dean starts to wonder if a changed life always equals a ruined one.

So angsty, and so, so perfect.

All the Way ❤ by cadignan E | 81k | College AU

Castiel spends the first two weeks of college in much the same way he spent the previous years: alone with his books. He’s fine with it—he enrolled in college to learn, after all. Then in his first chemistry lab, he has the bad luck of being paired with snide, good-for-nothing Ruby, and the further misfortune of sitting behind Dean Winchester, the world’s most beautiful distraction. Ruby catches Castiel staring at Dean and makes him an offer.

Destiel, Actually by Bloodism E | 15k | Crack Fluff,

Picture your typical rom-com cliché. Now picture Dean stuck in that rom-com cliché. With Castiel. Because that's what happening to him - a crazy whirlwind of your typical-and-not-so-typical cliché's. He's playing the main lead in all of them and Castiel's his counterpart. Of course, the culprit is obvious. Gabe's enjoying himself too much, lying back on his favourite cloud with a tub of salted popcorn. It was about time someone kicked the two knuckleheads into gear.

Suburban War by squeemonster E | 100k | High School AU

Moving to Lawrence with his family is the most significant event of Dean Winchester's life. It brings a stability he's never known, and the only thing to have more of a profound impact on him is Castiel Novak: the two boys become fast friends the day they meet. But as Dean grows older, he dreams for something beyond the monotony and constraints of suburbia, and he is haunted by the inexplicable feeling that he was born for something more than what this life offers. As he struggles to reconcile the person he yearns to be with what his family and friends expect of him, a fateful choice exposes just how fragile his life in the suburbs is, and possibly risks losing the best friend he's ever had.

#destiel #deancas #spn #spn fic rec #destiel fic rec #*#list

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stvlti · 4 years

Note

27, any pairing you like

Send me a number and a pairing

Prompt: no. 27 - Happy Birthday

Pairing: Dick/Joey (Nightwing/Jericho) because I wanted soft boys

Fandom: Titans TV series because this show needs to be gayer

alright, i’m gonna admit this one very barely ties in with the prompt; I wanted to do a birthday party scene, but then I remembered the only birthday scene that already occurred in canon happened before Joey/Jericho came onboard, and most of the Titans’ birthdays actually fall outside of the summer months, so I made do with a random party setting. I hope the reference to Aqualad’s birthday party counts; and an anniversary party is technically a birthday party too, right? *nervous sweat*

-----

He had never been good at staying in one place too long. Home was not a warm caravan, or a large Manor and its ever-pristine halls - home was wherever the people he loved went and congregated. When Bruce first started subtly encouraging him to spread his own wings, he flew West and built a nest there for him and all his misfits to seek sanctuary in the summers. He loved them like a second family. Donna, who allowed him to be vulnerable and taught him strength in honesty; Roy, who brought out the best in him whenever he passed through the Tower; Garth, whose easy laughter filled in all the cracks between their jagged pieces like glue; Hank, who needed a purpose and a brother in arms as much as he did; Dawn, who anchored him with all her patience and compassion. But then there was one more, and it was with him that he learnt forgiveness, hope, and new beginnings.

Joey was never meant to be anything more than an assignment. But he gave away his trust so easily and selflessly, and in turn inspired camaraderie and an inexplicable understanding from even the most skeptical of them. There was just something about his simple joy and gentle passion for the little things in life, all of it laid bare in his face, body, and the dancing fingers that hid nothing from his audience. Dick found himself gravitating to him near instantly in spite of himself, in spite of the rational side of him that knew better than to get emotions tangled up in the Mission. The day he and Dawn came clean about their identities and agenda loosened a giant invisible knot he'd had to carry in his heart.

With those inhibitions gone, it didn't take long for the trust to take root and for other feelings to grow, like saplings in freshly-turned soil. Dawn recognised the signs earlier than he did - call it a girlfriend's intuition, or maybe it was just Dawn being the most perceptive member of their group as usual. It had been coming up one month of Jericho training with the Titans, a month and a half since they all first met, and they had all learnt to cope enough to throw a party without feeling like they were disrespecting Garth's memory. Dick looked at the spot where Garth's birthday banner had been strung up by the windows, now decorated with their Titans Anniversary banner instead. He then glanced over at the couches, where Donna had drifted to with a lone drink at the start of the night. He was surprised to see her engaged in lively conversation with Joey. The boy's arms were moving rapidly in excitement, while Donna was chuckling as she struggled to keep up with reading Joey's signing.

Dick had been worried at first, that the others, Donna especially, would see Joey as an unsolicited substitute for Garth, overstaying his welcome long after they decided they would no longer need him for their current mission. But looking at them now, Joey laughing silently and Donna sharing a small smile for the first time in weeks, Dick knew he needn't have worried about them at all. As he stared at Joey's happy face, warm yellow light catching on his bambi eyes and a rare toothy grin, he felt a swell of indescribable emotions fill his chest, and he wondered how any of them could have ever doubted this boy. Joey brought a certain lightness to the team that they'd all thought they had lost when they were forced to grow up too soon. Even as Joey himself initially struggled to reconcile his image of his father with the harsh truths about the man, he was quick to understand their grief and forgive them for their deception. Joey was generous with his love. As long as Joey would share his time with with them, Dick never wanted Joey to be in pain again.

Dawn sidled up to him then, catching him unawares. There was no telling how long she stared at him staring at Joey. He was only brought out of his head when she placed a gentle hand on his elbow. He didn't blush easily, but he felt the back of his neck heat up as his gaze darted to Dawn's. She had a knowing look in her eyes. "Come on. I've been meaning to talk to you about something for a while..."

They made their way to one of the deserted rooms, Dick trailing Dawn as she led him out of the common area. With his back turned, Dick missed Joey returning his gaze, and the way he searched the room for him with a soft, expectant little smile.

-----

And I'm gonna end it there because I don't want to spend time and emotional energy on crafting a winding, difficult conversation that has to navigate multiple different feelings, Dawn's own POV and Dick's bisexual panic, and lead to catharsis in the end.

But the gist of it is, Dick dislikes the idea of cheating on someone even just emotionally, plus at this point he hadn't even fully recognised that his feelings for Joey is of a romantic nature and that he is actually bi (which is based on how Dick keeps thinking that he has indescribable feelings for Joey in the 80s NTT comics), so the best and only scenario for Jeriwing to begin in this setting is if Dick has a close friend who can help him parse out his feelings, and that he has Dawn's forgiveness first so he can actually pursue those feelings. To which, of course, Dawn would say there's nothing to forgive, in fact she would be the person to initiate the conversation and preface it with how she understands that both of their feelings have been fading for a while, and that they would be better off as friends again. And after that, Dawn could be the friend Dick comes out to and shares relationship advice with.

Because the thing is, the flashback episode with Jericho's backstory showed that Dick had become distracted and not as invested in his and Dawn's relationship anymore, so what's a little bit more stretching to attribute it to not just Garth's death but an overall fading of romantic feelings anyway? And look, Titans TV canon never explained how Dawn went from dating Hank (she clearly became Dove after she met Hank and went on dates with him) to dating Dick, and how she then went back to dating and settling down with Hank after their group split 5 years ago. And Hank has proven to be very protective and possessive of Dawn when Dick fucks up, so he probably never stopped loving Dawn even when she was dating Dick. So I figured this could be the point at which Dick and Dawn broke up on mutual terms, Dawn will rekindle her relationship with Hank, and Dick could go ahead and be gooey boyfriends with Joey.

#Titans #Joey Wilson #Dick Grayson #Jeriwing #DickJoey #Eugenia writes #dc fic #ask meme #answered #thanks Nori!!#transdankovsky #Nori #Titans (TV)

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jvdesfm · 4 years

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❀ *ﾟ matty healy. cismale. he/him. ⇝ hey, isn’t that julian “jude” morrison? i think that the twenty-nine year old from manchester, uk, works as a tattoo artist at black spade tattoo, but outside of that they spend a lot of time at the bars in las vegas. i hear they are pretentious + self-destructive, but they are also known to be equable + intelligent. consider giving them a visit at their home in buffalo mountain road apartments and get to know why they’re called the nihilist.

hi friends i’m bev, my only personality trait is my obsession w the horror genre, and i’m bringing u this soft sarcastic boy jude about whom u can find some info below + some wcs !!

(trigger warnings for drug use/abuse and neglect)

jude was born in manchester, england, to a pair of very wealthy, very young parents who were decidedly not good at being parents. when they realized he was never going to live up to their expectations of grandeur and high society they just sort of….gave up on him, it turned to neglect, and with no other family or grandparents around, it resulted in jude having to do a lot of taking care of himself. in some ways that did teach him a sense of how to be self sufficient, but it also gave him a super warped sense of responsibility.

when he was 14 (which was around the time the giving up on him started happening) his parents finally had another child, one who they were determined would make up for the failure that had been their first. because jude left home at 18 and never looked back, he knows almost nothing about this sibling. it was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do bc he always wanted a little sibling but the kid was only 4 and he couldn’t take being there anymore.

he resents his parents for it big time but (especially in the past five years or so) has started to learn how to compartmentalize that resentment and like?? learn from it rather than letting it make him bitter, if that makes sense, but he doesn’t talk to them at all and hasn’t since he left the uk. he’s done a lot of growing up lately though. jude in his early twenties was running around doing drugs and substituting actual meaningful relationships with sex and otherwise filling the void with garbage and addictive tendencies.

it was in his mid-twenties that he decided kind of on a whim to pack up and move to the states, heading for the east coast and the big city. he found a tiny shoebox apartment in new york, got work at a bar and supplemented it with selling drugs. continued his bad habits of sleeping around, committing to nothing except drugs and sex and live music, and a few years later found himself nearing thirty with nothing at all to show for it and no sense of direction.

so he checked himself into rehab, got clean, and that was when he started his tattoo apprenticeship. he worked under somebody who became something of a mentor to him and helped him find a sense of responsibility and purpose that his parents were never able to do. by the time he finished the apprenticeship he had gone back to smoking absolutely inhuman amounts of weed and doing party drugs here and there but he’s stayed away from the hard stuff for the most part.

it was a little more than a year ago, just before the new year, that jude decided he needed to get out of new york for a change of scenery and pace that he hoped would help with staying away from drugs. you could call it some kind of spiritual enlightenment but he would never call it that tyfegruhujwk. he calls it growing up and getting his shit together and realizing there’s more to life. vegas isn’t exactly the most lowkey place to have gone to stay (relatively) clean but his rationalization is that the change of scenery will be enough.

so he’s been here for a little over a year now, works at a tattoo parlor, still smokes a lot of weed and parties semi frequently but has managed to figure out how to maintain a sense of priority and responsibility in his life.

some extra stuff

jude’s a thinker and an observer–he notices things, small things other people don’t notice

bisexual king

despite his neglectful childhood and terrible history with commitment he’s actually very good at being in relationships and has only had 3 or 4 bc they’ve genuinely lasted several years each time

has some serious self destructive tendencies in that he defaults to doing drugs and getting up to shit and has to consciously be like…..no, bad

probably cares more about his friends/loved ones than himself?? he’s such a lover he has such a big heart he literally just wants the people he cares about to be happy and will sacrifice his own happiness to that end

a lot of his emotional turmoil comes from the war between his self destruction and wanting other people to be happy since those….do not go hand in hand at all lol

soft soft soft boy but in a death metal band tee aesthetic way

it’s literally difficult to get in a fight with him bc he cba getting worked up about things and spending that mental energy. however if he does get pissed off…….yikes he’ll go off and cut you off so fast

wanted connections

one person he’s dated in the past year-ish he’s been here, maybe a recent breakup for the angst

if your muse is from england? or ny? get at me w his other exes thanks

some best buds :( this boy would die for his friends

people whose tattoos he’s done !!

bad influence who possibly encourages him getting back into the Bad Stuff 👀

also some good influences give me those soft vibes

sibling like connections?? please? he doesn’t know his one and only sibling and he wants one so so badly

he is no longer a dealer so give me HIS dealer (probably this could also be a bad influence)

hookups, one night stands, etc. i’d love some unrequited things those are my weakness

#primmintro #this is incoherent whats new !!

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elenajohansenreads · 5 years

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Books I Read in 2019

#71 - Blue is the Warmest Color, by Julie Maroh

Virtual Mount TBR (22/48)

Rating: 1/5 stars

[guys, I’m about to go on a rant in this review. content warnings for biphobia, queer tragedy, with a very light dose of “is this paedophilia? it’s not clear.” i am ANGRY at nearly everything about this work, too, and i know anger on the internet can be infectious. please read with caution.]

What a horrible way to start Pride Month for me, reading what I'd heard was considered a new queer classic, and finding out it was a biphobic piece of trash. Let's start with the trash part first. In this story, we have: *Cheating is Okay *Presumably College-Age Girl Sleeping with Definitely Underage Girl *InstaLust substituted for Actual Emotional Development and "Love" *Affair Exposed in Stupidest Way Possible *Standard Homophobic Parents *Standard Kicked Out of the House for Being Queer *Bury Your Gays/Dead Gay Tragedy *Sex Will Kill You, Literally Why does any of this make a good story? On top of all the overused, and in some cases outright toxic, tropes this tale relies on, the huge time skips with no warning or explanation make this a difficult read to get into, because I kept having to read a new (unmarked) time period long enough to figure out when it was in relation to the one before it, then reread it in order to actually contextualize what was happening. I know the novel is short, but that's no reason to make me read parts of it twice to simply understand what the hell is going on. Other, more personal gripes: Don't like the art style. That wouldn't be a huge issue if I'd liked the story anyway, but honestly, everyone just looks ugly and the color palette is muddy and boring. Now, why it's biphobic. So, Emma clearly identifies as lesbian. Cool. Clementine, our tragic dead diarist, is never given a label, and judging by other reviews, her sexuality can be defined either as lesbian or bisexual. It depends on how much weight certain aspects of her character are given by the interpreter. Clem has a boyfriend before she meets Emma, but is clearly shown to not be comfortable with him sexually, while having sexual thoughts about women. That, to me, reads as lesbian, and plenty of self-identified lesbians have relationships with men before/while they figure themselves out. Or while they're deliberately closeted. Having ever been with a dude doesn't disqualify you. However, in the end, Clem cheats on Emma (years down the road) with a man. (gasp!) So, yeah, maybe she is bisexual, if she's sexually attracted to more than one gender. While the narrative doesn't come down firmly one way or the other, reading her as bi isn't a stretch at all, and given all the information, that's certainly how I see her. (Not to mention that years pass in this novel, identity is a journey, maybe she initially identified as lesbian and later realized she was bisexual. No, that's not lesbian erasure, that's an actual thing that happens.) But that's not really the biphobic part, I'm getting there. In the early stages of their relationship, Emma is Clem's teenage side piece. They enter a sexual relationship both knowing that what they're doing is cheating, because Emma knows Clem has a girlfriend. But that's okay, and it's okay enough that it goes on for quite a while, apparently. However, as adults, when Emma cheats on their committed relationship, it's the worst thing that she could have possibly done, and the thing that completely breaks Clem's heart. She says so, out loud, to Emma. But it can't just be that she cheated, because as we established, Clem was a cheater herself. She states outright that it's because Emma was cheating with a man. So that means she's not a real lesbian, and that means she couldn't possibly really love Clem, not if she wanted a man. And that's consistent with her character, sadly--Clem's biggest issue, when they were sleeping together but not "together" together, was that someday Emma would move on and find herself a man and be happy with him. Because she only saw Emma as curious about women, not genuinely attracted to them. Now, I'm not saying this never happened. Biphobia in the lesbian community is a real problem (as it is elsewhere, but that's a different discussion.) And especially at young ages, that sort of fear is a real thing, even if it's not a good thing. But why is this work so glorified as queer literature when it throws bisexuality under the bus? When it shows a probably-bisexual character in the worst light, as greedy, as dishonest, as needing "both" a man and a woman to be satisfied, oh, yeah, and also she's dead now? Sex killed her? Clem's no peach, in my lights--she's a cheater and a biphobe and the reason she and Emma are caught in the first place is because she decided to walk around Emma's family home naked, who does that?-- but she's the one left alive. She's the sympathetic one, the one we're supposed to feel sad for, because look at this great love she lost. Thank you, I hate it. I feel no sympathy for her. She's a terrible person and this is a terrible story. I want lesbians to have representation. I want media out there, made for them. But can it not spit on bisexuality and bi women in the process? Is that really too much to ask?

#booklr #book review #bisexuality #blue is the warmest color #my reading challenges #vmtbr 2019

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thedegenerateasexual · 6 years

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the last of let’s talk about love under the cut, chapters 27-34 + the epilogue:

chapter 27:

v v short, just a visit to the therapist again where she tells him about coming out

chapter 28:

alice went to her parents wioth the law school thing and told them she wanted to change majors and they...cut her off financially

that was not what i was expecting and not what she was expecting either god damn

she went to takumi’s to be sad and

“What about a weekend away? Forget about everything for a few days and relax. How do you feel about camping?”

“I feel like I’m not going to like it.” She rested her head on his shoulder.

He traced the bridge of her nose. “In a cabin, not a tent.”

“I feel like I might like it.”

lmao mood

“I’m not going to sleep with people to make them happy anymore. It’s kind of my thing, but I don’t want it to be.”

“Wait, he asked to have sex with you?”

“No, but if things went well, he would have. Eventually.”

“He might not,” he said. “You don’t really know what someone will say until you tell them.”

That … was not what she expected him to say. Her admission should have gotten her a solemn nod, meaningful condolences, and a promise that she’d find someone someday.

Did he really care that she was self-rejecting? Or …

Or …

OR!!!! i’m dying

“It seems easier to just not date,” she began, watching for any change in his demeanor. “Sex is too much a part of everything, and I don’t think it’s reasonable to tell my partner I don’t ever want to sleep with them and expect them to stick around. I’m not saying they wouldn’t agree. I personally am not okay with asking. And I’m not saying I wouldn’t want to try again someday, but I don’t want them to have the expectation that I will. It has to be my choice and a lot of people don’t respect that.”

She stared at his profile so hard she thought her eyes would cross. She prayed he would say the Perfect Thing.

please i’m losing it

He said nothing. Alice waited and waited, watched the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel, the way his thumb tapped to the soft music. He looked in the rearview mirror at the sleeping twins in their car seats, out his side mirrors when he changed lanes, but never at her. Not even a glance.

Maybe she shouldn’t have told him that.

She always told him everything, but she should not have told him that.

Not yet.

NOOOO what that’s the end of the chapter???

i guess in all fairness he can’t say “i’ll date you and we can never ever have sex if you want and i’ll always be OK with that” in like full honesty without, you know, really thinking about what that would be like, and it’s not a good idea to promise something if you don’t know if you can make good on it, and sex is super important to some people (??? i know but it is) so

chapter 29:

all takmui/alice hangouts at their camping cabin. alice decided to get drunk and He, A Gentleman, refused to also get drunk, just to make sure nothing untoward would happen. i lvoe him

chapter 30:

They stared at each other. Alice blinked first, but her eyes didn’t make it back to his. She focused on his smile, his lips, not wanting to kiss them; rather she wanted to touch them to see if they were as soft as they looked. The dangers of drunk-thinking could end in disaster. Her hand was halfway to his mouth when he asked, “Do you want to watch a movie?”

HE’S A GENTLEMAN i’m cryin

He gave her a funny look. “You like romance? In real life?”

“Of course I do. How do you not know this about me?”

Takumi laughed, turning away to look out the window for a moment. “I’m trying to figure something out and it’s not making sense to me.”

“Okay.” She willed herself not to be nervous.

“Before, you said ‘bisexual minus the sexual’ but didn’t add in a substitute. So if you don’t care about sex, what do you care about?”

“Ah,” she said, pleased by the question.

be still my beating heart i can’t believe he’s ASKING QUESTIONS where do people like this COME from

semi-related note i like that the book didn’t end with her coming out and them dating and it’s all rainbows, they still have a little poking to do, some understandings to come to, it’s Nice

“And for the record, I don’t believe in true love either, but I think it’s possible to feel like it could be real. That it’s possible to share something that feels that way with someone.”

The skeptical look on his face made her laugh without humor.

“And I think it’s possible to feel that way more than once. Sometimes even with more than one person at a time. Feelings are messy and confusing. It takes me a god-awful long time to sort through mine and I don’t always completely trust myself.”

i’m telling you dude. aces overthink shit. this is almost universally true i’m sure

about prom:

She didn’t know how to explain that, yes, her friends had been great, but going alone wasn’t in the plan. Every movie and show she had seen portrayed it as this big romantic event and she’d missed out on that because nobody asked her and she had been too afraid to ask anyone else. She wanted to wear her dress, get a corsage, and slow dance. It was stupid and archaic, but that didn’t stop her from wanting it like burning. If she thought about it too much, she could still feel that crushing hope that grew each day while she waited to be asked and that pervasive fear stopping her from asking anyone.

what a mood! i could type a thousand-word essay on my baggage re: school dances ALONE. at least alice got to GO to prom

OH my god alice is like still a lil tipsy and her brother called to yell at her about changing her major and he clocked that she was both drunk and hanging with “a grown-ass man” because “you have 2 friends and if you were with them you would have said their names and was immediately furious and demanded to speak to takumi

and alice, in a total power move, just HANDED HIM THE PHONE

“Yes—I’ll keep that in mind. Not that you could stop me if I wanted to, but I hear you.”

Her eyebrows slapped her hairline. She grabbed his hand, pulling it to her chest. “Wanted to what?”

Takumi squeezed her hand. Smiling, he looked at Alice and said to her brother, “No. You really couldn’t.” He hung up the phone. “That was fun.”

I BET I CAN GUESS WHAT THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT

listen. /I/ have a crush on takumi. he’s literally the perfect man

chapter 31:

FEENIE AND ALICE FINALLY MADE UP THANK FUCK

tbh feenie had some legit beef that is too long to copypasta - that alice was just using her for self defense - and admitted she had some bs going on too - it was a good make-up, actually. i’m so relieved

yk what’s cute?

“I really want us to grow old together, you know? Go through all the typical life stuff together even if that means we can only e-mail each other once a week because you moved to the middle of nowhere in Nebraska with your ten kids and I’m still in California because it’s amazing. Just like in that one movie—we’ll never lose touch with each other, ever. Is that weird?”

“No,” Feenie said. “It’s perfectly fucking normal.”

god bless

now that they’re back together feenie is ready to murder alice’s entire family for ditching her and helps her get a gameplan together about her future with no financial aid from her folks & god bless that too

chapter 32:

He watched the road.

She watched him.

God, did Alice want to kiss him. She had always liked kisses, small ones here and there. She wanted to kiss his cheeks and temples and the tip of his nose and his jaw and below his ear and every other place he would let her. She wanted to kiss him like he was the darkest night sky and her lips had the power to make stars.

AWWW she does like kissing well more power 2 u honey kissing is disgusting but live ur best life

omg it’s CONFESSION TIME

“So now would be a good time to say something,” she said when he continued to be silent.

“I’m trying. I’m just”—he paused—“I’m a little floored here.”

“I guess that means no.” She bit her lip.

“No. I mean, I’m not saying no.” More pausing. “I think I’m trying to say I need some time to think about this.”

“About me?”

“Yeah. And about us being an us. How that would work.”

Oh No ):

i was so sure he would be good!!!

“It’s just you’ve made your stance, I guess, pretty clear on things.”

A nervous quiver began to build in the pit of Alice’s stomach. “Oh. That.” She lowered her head. Her fingers toyed with the collar of her shirt when really they wanted to curl into a fist and press against the pain in her chest. But she didn’t want him to see.

“I remember what you said,” he said softly. “I don’t know if it’s something I could give up.” He closed his eyes, hands out in front of him as if he were reaching for the perfect combination of words to break her heart. Alice waited—wanting to hear it, wanting to run, wanting, wanting, always waiting and wanting.

IF HE FUCKS THIS UP I AM GONNA ZAP MYSELF INTO THIS BOOK AND KILL HIM fuck obviously he’s not obligated but C’MON!!!

“i’ve been reading everything that i could“ bye that is so thoughtful

An eerie calm settled over Alice. Every time this happened, she felt her pain with bone-shattering clarity, but this time—nothing. There was nothing. A numbness, surreal but true, made her heart keep beating at a steady rhythm, kept her breathing even, and allowed her to look at him. She watched him fidget and struggle, unsure where to look, what to do with his hands. Was he shaking from nerves or from worry?

Neither of them believed in forever, but for now wasn’t nearly long enough. Until he grew tired, until he moved on, until he left her because of something she had no control over. The thought of pretending, of faking her way through whatever kind of relationship he wanted, made her sick to her stomach. She had to be the one to leave him.

NO!!!!! goddammit!!

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” She inhaled, nodding and staring out the windshield at nothing. “It was my mistake. I should’ve asked and not assumed that you’d be okay with me as is.” She turned to him. “Let’s just forget the whole thing, okay? Everything.”

i’m gonna lose all my shit what the absolute FUCK how are they gonna fix this in 2 chapters

chapter 33, which had better be BETTER:

AWWWW it’s actually a phone call between alice and her dad!! he had a change of heart & agreed to pay for rent and groceries as long as she was in school doing SOMETHING bc he loves her and wants her to be happy ;_;

chapter 34, i’m dying, how will they fix it in one chapter:

“I wish it felt like this stupid, small thing I could crush in my hand, but it doesn’t. I wish it were some line in the sand that I could hop, skip, and jump over, but it’s not. It matters to him enough that the only thing he could say to me was that he cares, which you know, comparatively, wasn’t even that bad, but I can’t stop crying, because I’m pretty sure my heart’s breaking in there.

“A year ago, I would have said whatever. Sure. Yeah. Okay. But not now. Because I really, really like him, he knows everything, and he couldn’t answer me, because it matters enough to make him pause. Just that one stupid, small thing.”

she’s talking about her “breakup” with takumi and she’s miserable but yk what? it’s so good that she’s still not willing to budge and sleep with him just because she wants to be with him. it’s not like an admission fee. she likes him a lot but she’s done compromising herself w/ that line and i’m so proud of her for that

“I’m sorry about what I said the other night. I’m not perfect, but sometimes it really feels like you’re expecting me to be. I know I messed up, but refusing to talk to me isn’t fair. I’d never even heard of asexuality before I met you.”

Alice turned so fast she got a crick in her neck. “Will you hush?” She clamped a hand over his mouth,

sdfksghdkfgj fuck

altho fair point even i have called him perfect like 800 times. he’s trying hard & that’s what matters

oh my god so alice is like look im sorry but i like you too much we cannot be friends and he’s like yeah i think that’s true we can’t be and so she, tearfully, is like: that’s that then! and then he, wonderful man that he is:

“Except it’s not.” He grasped her wrist, rubbing his thumb gently over her pulse point. “I could say that I knew as soon as I saw you that I was doomed. I could say that I fell in love with you the morning after you fell asleep in my guest room and we got into a pillow fight when I tried to wake you up. I could say that when I was sick and you took care of me, almost asking you to marry me sounded like the greatest idea I’d ever had. I could say that every day I don’t talk to you, I feel like I’m dying a slow, melodramatic death.”

Alice stared at him, eyes wide, mouth agape. That kind of declaration was the bread and butter of romance movies, and it was for her.

IS HTIS SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE SHE TOLD HIM SHE LIKED ROMANCE MOVIES oh my god

OH MY GOD

JUST

SCREAMED

ok ok so he kisses her and then starts to kiss her again and then FREEZES

Inches away, eyes locked onto hers, he stopped moving. Alice pressed her lips together, anxious to get out of that frozen stance, but unsure of what to do. Didn’t he want to kiss her again? She wanted him too. What was he waiting for?

Takumi subtly raised his eyebrows.

(A question for her?)

(Oh. Oh.)

Now was probably the wrong time to tease him, but … “You didn’t ask first.”

“I realized that. I’m sorry,” he whispered back, words tickling her skin. “I’d like to kiss you again.”

“I’d like that, too. Yeah.”

I AM WAILING HE ASKED IF HE COULD KISS HER ARE YOU KIDDING ME

i take it back, he’s still perfect

i love this. romance novels for aces. make this a thing! straight women’s wish fulfillment is all that bodice-ripping ravishment BS and aces just want to be asked if it’s A-OK to smooch

She kissed him with everything she had and borrowed what she didn’t.

what a wonderful sentence

On the list of things Alice loved about Takumi, touching him was definitely in the top five. Resolutely she added kissing him to that list. Kisses were not supposed to be like this. They were nice and soft and made her feel warm inside, special, when done right, but were overly wet and vomit inducing when they weren’t. Kisses had never left her with her chest heaving and desperate for more moments like this. She never wanted to stop. She never wanted this kiss to end.

THIS IS REAL...alice understands the struggle.......literally i did gag once during a kiss they are patently Awful

“I already apologized, but I want to do it again, because I truly am sorry that I said what I did. I was too flustered to think properly and instead of taking the time to think like I knew I should have, I tried to answer you right away. I know what I want to say now.”

oh boy

“The reason why I hesitated wasn’t because of sex itself. You were spot on before. Sex is like jogging. Either you enjoy doing it or you don’t. To me, and this is just me, it’s the feeling that I care about—what sex is supposed to represent.”

“And that’s what to you?”

“If you felt the same way as I feel about you, you would want to have sex with me. You would think of me as someone worthy of your passion and desire, and you would show me how you feel physically. Not just with words but with action and urgency,” he continued, “but you don’t and for the most part, I understand. That’s not a part of who you are and I know that doesn’t mean that you don’t have other feelings for me. The thing is, that feeling that you can’t give me? It’s important to me. And I can’t apologize for feeling that way or for wanting it.”

TAKUMI....

oh my god

“This morning it finally clicked. I was thinking of sex, actually having sex, as the Holy Grail, and when I got frustrated, I tried to look at it from a different point of view and I realized something else.

“No one has ever complimented me as much as you do. Every day. All day. I could show up wearing a burlap sack and a tinfoil hat and you’d probably tell me how avant-garde and handsome I looked. You genuinely listen to what I have to say and value my opinion. You tell me I’m wonderful and talented and amazing—”

Alice didn’t mean to laugh—it bubbled out of her before she could stop it. She tilted her head to the side, looked at him, and said, “Because you are.”

“When you thought I didn’t want you, you started to cry,” he said. Alice tried to memorize the gentle look in his eyes as he spoke. “I watched you lower your head, clutch the front of your shirt, and try to smile because you didn’t want me to see how much what I was saying hurt you, because you do desire me. You wanted me so much that me saying no caused you actual pain. The thought of me only caring about not being able to have sex with you hurt because you thought I knew how much you wanted me.”

“For the record, I didn’t cry in the car. I cried in the shower.”

“It was still because of me.” He raised their joined hands and kissed the backs of hers. “It’s the same thing. Whether you’re so overwhelmed you can’t keep your hands off me or you’re crying because you think I don’t want you, it’s the same thing. It comes from the same place. That’s desire. That’s passion. You’ve never held back how you feel about me.”

AREY OU KIDDING ME...lmao i am crying again fully i can’t believe this

i have literally...never once in my entire 12ish years of struggling with this...thought of it that way

not one single solitary time. wow. i love this book. this is the best book ever, dumb fandom references and all

“Thank you,” she whispered, wiping away a rogue tear. She hadn’t realized she’d been waiting for someone, anyone, to say that to her. She knew it was true, of course, but sometimes hearing it out loud made all the difference in the world. “For saying that. Thank you.”

“It’s the truth.” He wiped away another of her traitorous tears with his thumb. “If we take away everything—there’s just you and me, nothing else, I see us together. Stripped down to the core, being with you is what I want because I’m in love with you. If we never had sex, I would still want to be with you because you’re in my heart, too. Just laughing, dancing, and twirling in circles, and I know that sounds weird as hell, but you are. And it’s important to me that you know that.”

STOPPP i’m like boo-hooing i can’t believe this

“So it would make you happy if we had sex?”

“I’m happy now.”

“Fine. You’d be happier, then?”

“Alice, we’ve been dating for five minutes. We have plenty of time to figure out what’s best for us.”

(DATING.)

bless her and bless him too

“Being in a relationship takes actual effort to be successful,” he said. “Not just talking, but listening, being honest, respecting each other, and compromise, you know, those kinds of things. That’s why people say make sure to marry your best friend because once the honeymoon is over? Nothing will save you if the foundation is shitty. But us? Me and you? We don’t have anything to worry about. We got this.”

“Okay.” She breathed. “Okay. I think that’s it.”

“It?”

“Yes. Yeah.” She kissed him.

It wasn’t the Perfect Thing, but it was real and honest and damn it, she’d take that any day.

THAT’S IT!!!!!

HTIS BOOK IS SO GOOD EVERYONE SHOULD KNOW THIS ABOUT ROMANCE

okay and also there is an EPILOGUE:

SHE’S SURPRISING HIM FOR THEIR ANNIVERSARY sdfkljs

“We’re still doing this every month? I thought six was the big one for you?”

“Yes, until we hit one year, and then I’ll stop being quite so extra. Not a lot though. Just a little. No promises.”

It had been seven glorious months.

(SEVEN.)

SIX IS THE BIG ONE FOR HER AND THEY MADE IT SEVEN!!!!

Getting Feenie and Takumi in the same room had taken weeks of machinations and failed attempts. Everything had finally come together on Thanksgiving. Takumi had volunteered to cook, Feenie refused to acknowledge his presence, but right before grabbing a third helping of his macaroni and cheese, she had looked at him, and said, “You hurt Alice, I hurt you. Are we clear? And pass the cranberry sauce. Please.”

(Alice had nearly fainted when she got her wedding invitation. It had been addressed to her and Takumi.)

i’ll allow feenie to be the good egg again

awww and her mom called and things are getting back to normal with them too, takumi’s even gonna meet them!

and then the v last lines:

“I know you make me happy,” he said, seconds away from falling asleep. “I know you love me.”

“I know you love me, too.”

and that’s that

overall review: i fuckin...love this book...it cuts you right to the core and doesn't mess around and the characters are so real and layered and imperfect and messy, and i can’t believe this is this author’s debut novel, like Damn. it is so good, and she is so brave for putting it all out there like that. best book ever 9.5/10 (half a point off for making me think about supernatural, but otherwise: perfect.)

#personal #LTAL

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regrettablewritings · 7 years

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Day Bi Day: A Documented Study of the Bisexual (Rafael Barba x Reader)

A/N: I’m not off hiatus, but I’ve been sitting on this idea since maybe late-April/early-May, and Pride Month seemed like the best time to actually do it. So forgive me if it’s kinda crap, I’m not entirely back into my groove just yet. Also: There’s a reason documentaries are a visual medium: It’s because writing out one like a story is hard. But it helps to imagine the narration being done by Tilda Swinton or David Attenborough. Shoutout to @xemopeachx for looking forward to this and being my hype(wo)man and @mrsrafaelbarba – both of them let me pass things by them segment by craptastic segment! (Also, tagging @ohbelieveyoume because if they have to suffer through this monstrosity, then so do you. That being said, Happy Pride Month!!

New York City: Home to over 8,550,405 people, it is a melting pot featuring persons from varying walks of life. This port city has long served as a nesting ground for new ideas, and stomping ground for old-time culture treasured by the society of the present day. But in such a vast hub of differing ideals and backgrounds, it easily becomes a hotbed for practices unchecked. For in a city so grand and driven by the ambition to progress, some ideas can slip through the cracks. Or, better yet, slip right beneath our noses.

It is here that we introduce Rafael Barba.

A man of Cuban descent, Rafael has worked his way to the position of ADA in the Sex Crimes Bureau of New York City’s 16th Precinct. A self-made man, Rafael is easily a representative of the American Dream come to fruition. There is, however, one lingering secret that he carries: Rafael identifies as bisexual. In addition, his romantic partner, (Y/N), also identifies as bisexual.

Accounting for approximately 1.8% of the American population alone, the bisexual is a pariah in modern human sexuality. Unlike the heterosexual, who finds sex appeal in members of the opposite sex, or the homosexual, who finds it in those who identify like themselves, the bisexual foregoes both suggestions and meets characteristics of either extreme in the middle by expressing a desire to have sexual encounters with those like-gendered or the opposite. However, as with most situations, meeting in the middle of a two-way street can be catastrophic.

But why do these people choose to forgo sensibility? What drives them to commit such perplexities? What characteristics do they thereby display as they continue their decent into ruin? For the first time, in full depth, we will be exploring these matters with an up-close and personal examination into the lives of a completely and fully bisexual couple. Join us as we take a peek into the interactions of Rafael and (Y/N) as we unlock the secrets of this promiscuous pair,

Day Bi Day.

Given that they prefer sampling both extremes of the genders, bisexuals are inherently greedy in nature. Where the hetero and even homosexual finds satisfaction, the bisexual remains discontent with the average human being’s basic necessities.

Rafael’s big, brass “ego” was not a workplace-only thing: It also appeared in his home life quite consistently. For example, it was in the fact that he would not only hog the covers to himself, but run the A/C unit in the event he got too warm, giving him even more reason to pull even more blanket upon his side of the bed! You weren’t having any of that, both his greed and the blanket itself. You’d put up with him long enough and you weren’t afraid to use the tactics necessary to tarnish that brass.

This moment in particular, you decided as you sleepily glared at his back, called for a cold approach. Eyes narrowed from sleep and disgruntlement, you maneuvered your chilled feet up the back of the man’s shirt before pressing them against his spine. A sound caught between a groan, a whimper, and a displeased growl was his response as he weakly attempted to arch his back away from your icy torment but to no avail. Unfortunately, the same could be said for you in your own respect: His damn grip didn’t give. In fact, in his pathetic but noticeable effort to move away from your freezing feet, Rafael only managed to pull even more blanket off of your increasingly waking and shivering form. The nerve of him!

Through your weary state, you snapped your tongue against the roof of your mouth in annoyance. This man was really going to make you work for it, wasn’t he?

“Rafiiiiiiiiii,” you whined, realizing how much energy talking required. “Blankeeeeetttt.” You lazily reached out, fingers opening and closing but to no purchase. All you got back was yet another groan stifled against his pillow. For the love of God! You swore that you would destroy the man the next chance you got as you summoned every iota of energy you could to shakily push yourself up onto your elbow. You didn’t care that Rafael couldn’t see your glare (both because his back was to you and because his eyes were closed). All you cared about was that you were cold and it was because he wouldn’t share the damn cover!

“Rafael,” you groused. “Share.” With that command, you reached out and gripped as much of the comforter as your sleep-weakened grip could muster. When he didn’t make a sound of objection, you willed yourself to pull.

No luck.

Scowling, you tried again. Your little heart gave a fatigued leap of joy when you felt his hold on the blanket coming loose. Just had to pull a little harder –

You weren’t thinking too much when you pressed your feet against Rafael’s back once more for leverage and strained yourself as hard as you could in such a state. In fact, with how little he responded, it didn’t occur to you that he would actually make the effort to move, much less in a dramatic way.

When he turned over, front facing you, you got smacked with way too many thoughts and emotions for this forsaken hour: There was glee that the blanket was no longer nearly as wedged beneath and around him as before; contentment that you would now have enough coverage from the cold elements Rafael had cast upon the bedroom; shock when you realized that your body wasn’t stopping from tipping over; and that small but nevertheless realistic fear one gets once their body realizes that it’s falling.

Frankly, it was the lack of blanket on his body that made Rafael’s eyes crack open. But as his body dragged itself somewhat into consciousness, he came to the realization that he’d just heard a small yipping sound, followed by a thud. When his eyes adjusted to the dark just enough, he found your side of the bed barren, the blanket nowhere in sight. From your place on the floor, you heard your bedmate grunt, followed by the shuffling and squeaking of him dragging his body to the edge of the bed. It was quite easy to make out his face peering over the edge now that you were wide awake.

“… J’you fall over?” Rafael yawned dully.

He wasn’t expecting you to yank him off the bed to join you in your disgruntlement at 3AM.

It is due to this ravenous nature that the bisexual cannot be trusted. Their willingness to cross boundaries creates a brazen attitude, leading to a proneness of cheating. Imagine the frequency such occurs in a relationship wherein both participants identify as bisexual …

You knew what to expect when you opened up the pantry that afternoon: Whole wheat crackers, dried pumpkin seeds, Craisins, rice cakes – all placed neatly in a row on your side of the space. Courtesy of Rafael’s meddling, of course.

What you did not expect, however, was the sticky note pasted to a small container of low-sodium trail mix:

Good luck! You can do this! ❤ Rafi 😊, inscribed in his precise yet purposeful handwriting.

Your hand gently placed itself on your heart as you released a small “aww” of complete adoration. Soon after you’d professed your goal to begin eating healthier, he had become your biggest supporter, buying all kinds of lean snacks and substitutes for your usual junk food. He’d even offered to take the health plunge with you but you insisted that just putting in the effort to provide you with the foods you would need was kind enough. The letters, though? Unwarranted but nevertheless greatly appreciated.

It felt wonderful and empowering to know that your beloved believed in you, and it only made you believe in yourself all the more. You missed Double-Stuffed Oreos like the dickens but now you knew: You could do this! Filled with a newly stoked flame of determination, you decided to nosh upon the pre-determined serving size of whole wheat crackers – and then paused. Right as you were reaching for the box, a glimmer flickered from the corner of your eye. It came from Rafael’s side of the pantry.

It wasn’t that Rafael was an enabler – far from it! – but he certainly had a different approach to snacking than you did. While he certainly had consideration for his health, this did not mean that he restricted himself as drastically as one might think. The both of you knew how stressful and bitter his job was; you therefore had no qualms about his side containing more comforting foods: pretzels, Twizzlers, chocolate-covered sunflower seeds …

At first.

Rafael’s exact and orderly placement of snacks and foods was meant to wipe away any potential trouble caused by misplacement or supposed lack of space. For the first time in your relationship, this method had failed.

There, placed at just the right angle for the light of the kitchen behind you to hit the shiny packaging, was a small bag of milk chocolate Godiva truffles Rafael’s guilty pleasure snack. From the way the top of the bag was rolled, you could see that it had been opened. However, for as much of a snacker as Rafi was, he was pretty precise when it came to his chocolates. He probably even counted them to make sure he knew how many of the dollops he had left.

Considering this as a very real possibility, you shook your head gently and returned your attention to the whole wheat crackers.

…

The dry, crunchy, drag-against-your-throat-as-you-swallow-them crackers that would require way too many gulps of water to moisten them as they drain the saliva out of your mouth crackers …

Godiva, on the other hand, made your mouth salivate instantly. You wouldn’t need nearly as much watery assistance if you ate them –

No! Those weren’t a part of the plan, they were Rafi’s! Rafael had all the confidence and pride in the world for you, Rafael believed – no . . . He knew you could stick with your goal. It was only fair that you did your part and proved to him that you could! Come hell or woman riding naked on a high horse! … Speaking of which, what did Lady Godiva have to do with chocolate?

You got why nude plus chocolate could equal sensual, but there was a horse involved. And it was all because she wanted her husband to lay off on his oppressive taxes. Where the heck did the jump from dare to delicacy happen? Better Google it.

It was when you reached for it in your pants pocket that you realized you had left your phone in the bedroom. So no Googling the answer there … But surely there was an explanation on the bag, right? Godiva had probably received thousands of questions and comments about their choice in name and logo; to place an answer to all the queries on their packaging wouldn’t be farfetched in the least.

Besides, you thought to yourself as you pulled out the bag of truffles, it might be good to read something while I eat my crackers …

After a day full of errands, tackling the bustling streets of the city, and gritting his teeth as he withstood the annoyances of shouting pedestrians and work-related texts from Liv, Rafael needed an elixir to heal his fatigued body. And there were three things he usually turned to for such a purpose: Food, scotch, and you, not necessarily in that order.

With you lounging on the couch watching some show about the devil living in Los Angeles or whatever, and his favorite bottle of scotch still full and glimmering on the counter, there was one last thing he could use to perfectly sweeten this well-deserved respite.

Rafael thought himself to be the best, most considerate man in New York as he opened the pantry in search of Godiva. He felt that one truffle wouldn’t hurt you. After all, you’d been so dedicated these last few weeks, surely you, too, deserved a little treat –

Wait, what?

His brows furrowed over his confusion-filled, green eyes. Rafael took a step back to recollect exactly what his side of the pantry had looked like this morning when he’d opened it to find cereal. That bag of blueberry Craisins wasn’t there before, they were by the Twizzlers! He pushed the bag to the side, only to confirm his suspicions.

“Uhhh … Honey?” he called, eyes still trained on the shelf before him. “Have you seen my Godiva?” Had Rafael glanced back at your form, lazily lounged upon the sofa, he would have regarded how much more tense you’d suddenly become in the last second.

By the time he looked back at you, you had become somewhat less rigid. But only by a fraction. Thank God he couldn’t see your eyes from this angle, otherwise, they would have directed him to the wicker basket of magazines in the corner: the burial ground of the evidence of your crime.

But alas, it didn’t matter that he couldn’t read your eyes. As a lawyer, Rafael could read the atmosphere alone and that would be enough.

You knew this as you heard his voice ring from behind you, “Did – Did you cheat on your diet!?”

You didn’t care that the apartment wasn’t massive by any means; you booked it for a hiding place.

With an identity that lacks the certainty or foundation assured by those with definite attractions, the lifestyle of the bisexual is a peculiar one worthy of observation as it finds itself buffeted day in and day out by the individual’s ever-changing pronouncements. The lives of Rafael and (Y/N) are no exception to this pattern or lack thereof. Their shared abode is regularly populated with sordid activities in a modern recreation of Sodom and Gomorrah with the weekends serving as a bacchanal devoted to drugs, sex, and absolute debauchery.

Friday night.

It had been a long, physically grueling and mentally taxing week. It was time to let loose and throw out as much care as possible for the next few days and glut yourselves on all of humankind’s earthly delights.

You and Rafael had had it all planned out a week in advance: You were going to put on your Friday night best, plop down on the best seats in the house, down a few drinks to make you let loose, and keep your eyes peeled for the best-looking of the night, the worst-looking, and what you’d be willing to go home with if you had the right amount of alcohol in your systems. With your love of those that beamed wildness beneath the innocent demeanor and Rafael’s keen eye for peoples’ weaknesses, the both of you were sure to come out with a pleasurable evening.

This was, of course, the parade of bad choices that is Friday Bride Day on TLC.

“That’s an awful dress,” Rafael commented, popping a pretzel into his mouth. You hummed an agreement against his chest, analyzing what the poor fool on TV had just slipped herself into. The cut was all weird, there were frills here and sheer there. You were confident that you, as you currently were, in your best college sweats, would have been a better vision of a bride than the lady currently was in that getup.

As the glittery box showcasing the price showed up, you cocked an unimpressed eyebrow. $17000 for that?

“Not to mention out of her initial price range,” you muttered. Rafael echoed your previous hum.

“This is the one she’s gonna pick. But hey, that’s okay,” he picked up sarcastically. “She can just call up ‘Daddykins’, insist how she needs this dress, and he’ll bend over backwards to assure that she can have this one dress worth more than their car, which she will only wear once.” He shrugged. “May need to put in a mortgage on the house but …”

You nodded along to his commentary as you shoved a fistful of popcorn into your mouth, eyes still trained on the screen.

“ – I’m saying yes!” the white-clad blonde proclaimed in a shrill voice, adding an excited little wiggle to her decision. Well, at least some designer was getting paid instead of the punch to the knuckles that they deserved.

“Yaaayyy,” you murmured in unison. It was a notedly droning one, complete with lazily raised hands that slapped back down to your laps and sides once the effort of being excited proved to be too much for the moment.

As the screen cut to interviewing the bride about her dress and to her mother, who was agreeing that the dress was “without a doubt ‘her daughter’”, you couldn’t help but continue to critique the end result. “She should’ve gone with the first once she tried on,” you insisted. “It was all nice and frilly … It wasn’t anything crazy new or out there, but at least it was nice.”

“They never do,” sighed Rafael as he slowly shook his head.

“No …” you admitted. There was a shared moment of silence between the two of you as the episode came to an end and the next one began. As the camera focused in on the Kleinfeld assistants being given their usual morning lecture, you lightheartedly glanced up at Rafael. “But I would’ve loved to see you in it, Rafaelito.” You emphasized your comment with a gentle pat to his cheek.

Rafael, however, wasn’t on the same level as you. “Seriously, (Y/N)?” he scoffed. “No seas ridículo, Cariño. I wouldn’t be caught dead in a Vera Wang wedding dress. Those things are cursed.”

You pouted. “But maybe with your beauty, the curse would break itself out of shame.”

The small chuckle that fluttered out fizzled in his chest and tickled your ear that was still pressed against it. “ ‘Beauty,’ you say? I had no idea that I was anything more than surly and perpetually ready to punch somebody in the throat.”

“Mhmm,” you insisted. As you stretched and yawned against your beloved’s torso, you managed to grunt out, “Rafael is the prettiest guy in New York City. All the dresses want to fit him like a glove. Even the cursed ones.” By the way he exhaled, you could tell that he was smirking.

As he playfully pinched your cheek between two knuckles, Rafael confirmed: “Segúro que sí.”

Returning back to the show, he found himself visually insulted by sewn-together monstrosity passing for a dress being gleefully pulled from the selection by the bride of the episode. Immediately, his smirk fell. “Except for that one,” Rafael said quickly. “That dress is too awful for to feel sympathy for anyone, no matter how pretty.”

“Agreed.”

But perhaps this deviant behavior is actually a key to unlocking the mystery of bisexuality. This never-ending venture through the many chapters of the id has proven to be a point of interest to psychologists and sexperts alike, who collectively suggest that this constant search to fulfill an impossible high is the bisexual wandering in a constant state of confusion. With a lack of understanding in their own identity, their place in life, and an entire flurry of other complications, the bisexual is in a constant state of limbo: Lost, uncertain, and with the stability of a broken bridge.

“Lupita Nyong’o.”

“Definitely. Cute smile, pretty eyes, altogether sweet girl. A younger Richard Gere.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then just say you like Jon Bernthal. They look alike, you’d get the same cute smile and everything.”

“I’m counting that as your turn. Anyway, Sofía Vergara.”

“Eeeehhhh …”

“What’s wrong with Sofía?”

“Nothing, it’s just … Wasn’t she in The Smurfs movie?”

“We are not holding that against her,” Rafael asserted crossly. He topped it off with an especially pronounced spoonful of cereal. It was Tuesday night, and the both of you were too tired from work to cook up dinner. But you were also too hungry to withstand the half-hour wait for delivery. Cereal for dinner it was.

Somewhere along the way, it had turned to dinner and a show – or, rather, a showcase of people whom you both found attractive. Neither you nor Rafael could recall how or why it started in the first place but whatever the case, it had since evolved. Not necessarily into revelations over one another’s tastes, but more so a way to critique each other’s very tastes. And so far, no one was truly winning. At least, not for long.

“Okay, well what about . . . Chris Pine!” you enthused.

“Uh-uh-uh!” Rafael bounced his spoon in rhythm to his tutting. “We agreed: None of the Chrises. It’s too obvious.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a gushy grin worthy of any schoolgirl. “Well, yeah, but … But he’s just so cute!” The smile flew loose from its weak captivity and released a series of fawning over “how blue” his eyes were, and how he “still uses a flip phone like a nerd.” Rafael, however, was not as swayed by Chris Pine’s unchronological appeal.

“Mi alma, he looks like stock footage of a poster you’d see in the room of a teenage girl in a movie,” he attempted to tease. You shot him a glare for his very specific description.

“Chris Pine is a goddamn treasure, and his name and likeness will not be besmirched in this household! He made me feel things in Wonder Woman!” You slammed a hand to your heart for effect. You leaned in closer and whispered, “Feelings I thought I had ripped out of me to better survive in this world, only to learn that they made me stronger.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. It was after work hours and he’d exhausted the best of his attorney abilities; he didn’t feel like even trying too hard to win this argument. Best to just let you have this one. For now. He dug around in his bowl, collecting cereal.

“Oh, that reminds me: Lynda Carter,” he said between bites.

You cocked your head in consideration, chewing on the thought, before subtly nodding. “Mm. Yeah, I can see that.”

A short, incredulous chuckle escaped from him. “What was with the hesitation? It’s Wonder Woman. The original Wonder Woman!”

“I mean, yeah, definitely, she’s gorgeous but … Now whenever I think Wonder Woman, I think Gal Gadot.” To further get across your point, you added, “Talented, sweet-hearted, athletic, smart, Gal Ga-freaking-dot!” This managed to coax a chortle out of your dining mate.

“Okay, okay, both of them. Both are fine.” Rafael then flashed that smirk of his. “Glad to know you really do have tastes outside of me, Cariño.” Before you could throw acidic words back at him, Rafael hurried in with, “George Clooney.”

That stopped you. Your brow wrinkled in slight disbelief. “George Cloo – Oh, Rafi!” you exclaimed, your tone heavy with what could only be described as pity and disappointment. You even cocked your head to the side, as if changing the angle would make you comprehend what you were hearing any better. Meanwhile, confusion startled itself onto Rafael’s face.

“What? George Clooney is – is a classy man and – ” he struggled to defend.

“And he’s a total cliché, that’s what!” you interrupted.

“He’s not a cliché, he’s an attractive man and everyone but you seems to understand that,” Rafael stated, adding in a purposefully snooty upturn of his nose. Had he looked down (or even not), he would be able to see that this only riled you up further.

“Well, if you’re gonna put him out there, then I’m using another Chris!” you declared. Your threat of calling another Chris from the pack caused Rafael to lower his head in an instant.

“Honey, no, we agreed – ”

“Chrissss,” you went on, “Pratt.” You made sure to snap the ‘t’ off with especial vigor.

At the clarification by way of surnaming your choice, Rafael’s countenance once again returned to confusion. “Chris Pratt?” he inquired. “Not Hemsworth?” You shook your head, confirming that he had, indeed, heard you correctly.

“I find Christopher ‘Thor’ Hemsworth’s lack of tummy disturbing.” You placed a spoonful of cereal in your mouth to signify your dedication to the subject.

“What is it with you and men’s stomachs!?” Rafael cried. You gave him no answer. He knew you wouldn’t.

“Idris Elba,” he sighed, having been forced to give up on you.

“Yes. God, yes,” you willfully agreed. It was now your turn. You tapped the tip of your spoon against the corner of your mouth as you put yourself in thought. Eyes turned up, you searched your mental catalog, trying to recall who you already voiced, whom Rafael had already named, who would be too obvious, and then – you found them:

“Jeffrey. Dean. Morgan.” You punctuated every name with precise wave of your spoon. Tall, funny, plays a lovable bad guy so well, and a silver fox: A mighty fine choice, in your (superior) opinion.

As he began to process your most recent addition to your list, Rafael’s brows pushed downward.

“Jeffrey Dean Morgan,” he repeated slowly, as if trying to get a feel for the name himself. He then pursed his lips critically. “(Y/N), he’s old enough to be your father.”

You shrugged, albeit with an obvious lack of true consideration of Rafael’s point. “Yeah, well, you know . . . He’s not.” You seemed to leave it at that as you leaned toward your bowl of cereal. From the way your voice trailed, he took it as a sign of self-accepted defeat.

Rafael soundlessly scoffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head for good measure. You sure had weird tastes and no right to question his at this rate. It was quiet for the next moment, with Rafael trying to think of whomever else he found attractive, and with the both of you chewing your newest respectful spoonfuls.

Therefore, with the silence settling in, it was quite easy for Rafael to hear you quickly mutter into your bowl, “Sure is my Daddy™, though.”

The rest of the silence was shattered by the dramatically bombastic sound of Rafael coughing over a piece of cereal that he had carelessly allowed to fall the wrong way.

Knowing that he would be fine, you tried to hide the evil smirk growing on your face. You’d won.

With these characteristics taken into consideration, it has become common proposition that bisexuality is, in fact, a phase. One powered not necessarily by the inevitable changes of life that may drive other stages, but more so by the individual’s determination to be different by any means necessary, regardless of deviancy. It is this sort of decision, which can potentially span across a lifetime, that impacts not only people like Rafael and (Y/N), but their loved ones as well.

You decided that you liked Eddie Garcia. You had only met the man a handful of times before and never had any reason to dislike him, per se, but tonight, you knew for certain: Eddie Garcia was a sweetheart and an all-around pleasant guy to be with, so long as you were on his good side. The revelation that he had been one of the secret-keepers of Rafael’s sexuality growing up, and had even created more of a protective presence for him also did plenty for how you viewed the man.

Plus, being one of the Three Musketeers of Jerome Avenue, Eddie had access to even more embarrassing Rafael stories than even Lucia! Especially once you got a little liquor in his system. Of course, you hadn’t truly known this in full depth before. But tonight, in an effort to keep in touch better, Rafael had invited Eddie over for some drinks. And lord, were the three of you having one hell of a time filling the apartment with all kinds of laughter, spurred on with every sip taken and every story recounted.

“ – and so then, Eddie finally lets me handle his BB gun. I was feeling cool, I swore I was the hottest little shit,” Rafael carried on. You nodded, eagerly awaiting the next fragment of the story. From his position at the table, Eddie was shaking, trying to hold in his own laughter as he recalled in his own head exactly what had gone down in his old friend’s story.

“I don’t even know where the hell I was aiming or even what at, I just remember pulling that trigger, hearing glass shattering, and seeing everybody else scrambling to get away from me. Eddie left me in the middle of the street with that damn gun still in my hands and I’m going, ‘What are we gonna do!?’ and Eddie – still running, mind you, yells back, ‘Whaddya mean ‘we’!?’”

In an instant, Eddie gave way to howling out in laughter. Stuck in your own fit, you had no time to determine whether his face was red from roaring or from the alcohol intake.

Between his gasps for air, Eddie threw in, “And – and the best part was that Mr. Viteri never did find out what happened to his car window!” before getting sucked back into the mindless merriment.

You giggled in hiccups as you tried to down another gulp of this evening’s poison of choice.

“Dang, Rafi! I and thought what you did to impress Lauren Sullivan was bad,” you teased. Rafael shrugged, lop-sided smile present as he raised his glass of scotch to his lips. Eddie’s expression, however, became one of bewilderment. He sat up straight, brows creased over eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Lauren Sullivan? You thought Lauren Sullivan was the worst of it!? Naw, sweetie, she wasn’t the worst one,” Eddie insisted, his hand slapped the air as if to wave all assumptions out. It was only after this that he appeared to pause to recollect his thought. “Wait. Wait, Rafi,” Eddie’s attention flew to Rafael. “Rafi, you never told her about Antonio?” At the sound of that name, you noticed Rafael’s face become flushed, further emphasizing the wideness of his eyes. Oh, this was about to be delicious.

“No, he hasn’t,” you responded, cutting off the stammered attempt of a reply Rafael had been trying to get out. “But please: Tell me more about this ‘Antonio.’ Was he another one of Rafi’s little friends?” You propped your elbows on your knees as you leaned forward with baited breath.

“ ‘Friend’? Ha! More like his obsession!” Eddie corrected before taking a sip of his beer. Once he was satisfied, he leaned back in his seat as if to mimic a wise storyteller. “Antonio Espinosa – or Tony, as we were lucky enough to call him, in Rafi’s opinion. He was in the grade above us, and Rafael was not-so-quietly smitten by him behind his back. And at first, you could see why: he had the hair, the smile, had a cute lil freckle on his face…”

With every description Eddie provided, Rafael slouched further and further into his seat. It was as if the memory of Tony was pushing him downward as it rose up. While his features never entirely expressed such, you surmised that Eddie was relishing in Rafael’s growing embarrassment just as much as you were. Maybe even more.

“Problem was, Tony couldn’t dress for shit! Boy wore a cheap leather jacket to school on picture day, slicked back his hair with his papi’s shoe polish – while trying to grow a mullet. Walked around wearing this crappy pair of leather pants, looked like a walking garbage bag! Stunk of his papi’s cheap cologne, tried to make up slang to come off as hot shit … And Rafi ate. It. Up. Pobre estúpido, ¿qué estaba pensando?”

You couldn’t tell which was funnier: The toothy, proud grin Eddie wore as he taunted your sweetheart’s crappy tastes, or the red face that Rafael was trying to hide behind his hands, ashamed that his classy reputation was being dismantled by one flaw in the system.

“Rafael!” you squealed. “He sounds so tacky – You can’t talk about my tastes anymore!”

Rafael muttered through his fingers, “Jesus, I can still see that mullet …” The glare he slipped between his fingers failed miserably. “Look, you like what’s in proximity, okay? Tony was nearby and he wasn’t … bad.”

“Well, not in the traditional sense. But, oh, he wanted to be, (Y/N). Wanted to be the designated bad boy of our block,” Eddie snarked into the lip of his bottle.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the idea. “Rafi? Having a thing for a bad boy!?”

Eddie nodded. “A bad boy who wore crappy jeans he painted dollar bills on, no less.” That summoned a rippling chortle from you as you slapped your hand on the table in defeat. Rafael, having since released his burning face from his hands, grouchily poured himself a full glass of whiskey to temporarily distract himself.

The two of you couldn’t stop laughing soon enough in his opinion.

“Seriously, though, (Y/N), I think we both can agree that I protected Rafi from more than just bullies: I protected him from himself,” Eddie stated. He flashed a mischievous grin. “If I didn’t help keep him grounded, he would’ve started to dress like Tony just to get his attention. He seriously was considering saving up for a members only jacket – a red one, so Tony would know he was bold!”

“It was – It was fashionable at the time, I thought if he saw me in it, he’d think I was cool!” Rafael attempted to defend. Unfortunately, flustered and being full of alcohol was not the best state to be in when trying to use your lawyering skills.

“No, mi bien amigo. You honestly would’ve been cooler if you went with the leather jacket and pants – and that’s still a poor fit for you.”

“I dunno, Eddie,” you offered, biting your smiling lip. “Leather jackets are a pretty bisexual thing … I have a few myself, I’m surprised Rafi doesn’t have at least one.”

“Come on, now, (Y/N), could you see this one” (Eddie gestured to Rafael, who suddenly seemed heavily interested in the nutrition label of the scotch bottle) “wearing a leather jacket all the damn time? Or even at all!?”

Both pairs of eyes turned back to the man in question. Apparently Rafael had grown bored with all the nutrition whiskey had to offer and was now finding entertainment with the button on his sleeve.

You pursed your lips, then nodded once. “I can see that. Might even be sexy.”

This coaxed a raspberry from Eddie. “Wow, keep making up claims like that and you’ll be a better lawyer than Rafi.”

You shook your head, continuing, “But I dunno; ‘Rafael Barba’ doesn’t sound enough like a bad boy worthy of the leather.”

“What about ‘Ramirez’?” Eddie suggested. “ ‘Rafael Ramirez’: The baddest boy of Jerome Avenue.”

“Working title. But location names are good for bad boys. Like Arizona Ramirez!”

As you and Eddie were preoccupied with your various states of drunken laughter and name-giving, Rafael had begun to down his scotch with a mad fervor. Maybe if he drank enough, he wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning and, perhaps, even forget the brief yet monstrous Tony Phase of his life.

He did not. And apparently, neither did you, as a few days later Rafael returned home to find a leather jacket just his size laid out on the bed.

If this is, indeed, the case, then it would be sufficient to come to the conclusion that bisexuals do not truly exist in any form beyond the theoretical.

Rafael gave his tie one last tug and considered his reflection. After taking a moment to observe how it looked on him, how it harmonized with his suit and pocket square and even socks, he gave in: He would have to thank you for convincing him to buy this. It was legions better than the color gradient one he was worried he’d have to consider settling on. It wasn’t unusual for the great Rafael Barba to don immaculate clothing both in and out of court. And anyone who knew him or had seen how he dressed would find nothing out of the ordinary with today’s tie.

But with every stripe of the pink, purple, and blue pattern, there was meaning. There was pride.

Pride in who he was, in the person he was with. There was even a bit of pride and support for the person whom he was set to defend in today’s trial. It was entirely coincidental that their trial landed on September 23rd. Rafael was sure that it had meaning to them, just as it held meaning to himself. But the truth was, with not too many people seeing it as such, today as another day with another case.

In this, however, they could easily just assume that this was yet another one of Rafael Barba’s famously colorful ensembles. They wouldn’t likely pick up on his agenda, just assume that it was “Barba being Barba.” If today’s first part of the trial didn’t necessarily work out, he could at least have the ability to wordlessly console his client and let them know that he was going to fight like hell for them. He considered that a victory. A small one, but one nonetheless.

Making sure that his shirt was tucked in, pink-and-black suspenders in place, cologne thoughtfully applied, and his hair neatly styled, Rafael called out to you that he was preparing to commute to work.

Your reflection soon joined his from behind, entering the proximity from your previous location at the table with breakfast. A small smile eased its way onto Rafael’s lips as he regarded your own apparel: Pink blouse, purple skirt, blue flats.

As he turned around to face you and reveal the front of his own outfit, a small, syrupy gasp escaped from your ever-growing smile. Your hands flew up to your mouth as you fawned over your dapper man.

“Oh, Rafi,” you gushed, “you look so proud and handsome!”

Ever one for praise, Rafael not-so-subtly basked in your compliment with a raised head and that crooked smile of his that you loved so much. “I thought I always looked this good,” he joked lightly.

You nodded vibrantly. “Oh, you do. But today, you look even more handsome because it’s an outfit that I helped coordinate!” You expressed your pride through small but gleeful and rapid claps using the tips of your fingers.

A small puff of a chortle passed Rafael’s lips as he allowed his smile to grow. You were quite lively this morning. “Fair enough,” he allowed, collecting his briefcase by his feet and making a beeline towards the door.

“Now what do you say?” you said as you followed him.

Even from your position behind him, you could tell that proud and flattered smile of his had since converted into one of mischief. “I am afraid that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he claimed.

“Rafiiiiii,” you pouted, playing along with his claim.

“What? I really don’t!” Rafael swore, turning around to greet your trailing figure. He didn’t even bother hiding his crooked smirk. The nerve of this man!

“Rafael!” you snapped. You tried to come off as intimidating, but your amusement was obvious. It was hard work looking upset when you were fighting back a laugh.

Thankfully, you needn’t hold it in for long: Rafael’s own chuckle fluttered out of him as he gave in to your insistence. “Si, si, gracias, mi alma,” he murmured. “You have excellent taste.” He then leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

Your blush and smile bloomed beneath his lips, his kiss serving as the sun. “De nada, Rafaelito,” you whispered.

You didn’t want your sweetheart to go. And Rafael didn’t exactly want to separate himself from this warm moment, either. But a job is a job, and he was about to be late for his if he didn’t get a move on soon. Sighing quietly with acceptance, he mumbled against your hair, “I have to go now, Cariño.”

Your smile faltered, but only slightly. “Gotta represent?” you spoke. The attempt to liven up the mood gave Rafael a reason to gently beam.

“You know it.” He didn’t dare move as you stood on your toes to press a peck for good luck on his cheek.

Whilst still extending yourself, you implored, “Go get ‘em, Rafaelito. Show them what happens when you invoke the wrath of the bi-furious!”

Once again, you managed to coax a small laugh out of him.

Gently insisting that he would, Rafael pressed his lips to yours for one last kiss to hold him over for the rest of the day, telling you he loved you. He almost regretted it, as it only made it harder for him to leave. However, your work needed you, his client needed him, and he needed to prove a point to the jury and the public.

And if that point required him to give the defendant hell, then Rafael would, indeed, induce “the wrath of the bi-furious.” He would never dream of giving anything less.

From these observations, we can only conclude that the self-proclaimed “bisexual” is unlikely to lead an entirely wholesome life. Until they confront their circumstances and contradictories and make an effort to correct their circumstances of sex and hedonistic pursuit, bisexuals such as Rafael or (Y/N) will be unable to achieve a sense of completion. A lifestyle of monogamy and happiness are decidedly incompatible with a force that refuses to change for the betterment of the individual’s physical, mental, and emotional health.

You weren’t sure what hit you first: The sound of music, or the realization that Rafael wasn’t in bed next to you. Regardless, you awoke with a quiet groan and your fist gently gripping at the part of the bed he usually occupied. The more you came to, the more you began to realize how cool his half of the bed was, signifying that he’d actually been gone for a while. And the more you came to, the more you began to recognize the song: Nat King Cole’s “L-O-V-E.” The Spanish version. It came echoing out of the bathroom, rising above the hiss of the shower.

As you gained further consciousness, you could just make out an extra voice singing along: Rafi’s voice.

“ –Sé todo lo que me dirás, Ha de darme la felicidad. Dime pronto qué es ‘amor’ Que tu palabra espero Háblame de nuestro amor – ”

At the sound of his voice, a sleepy smile grew upon your face. Rafi used to sing it all the time during your second year of dating –

At this recollection, you willed your eyes open, forcing the sleep and initial disappointment over Rafael’s absence away. You knew what today was. And now you were halfway tempted to join him in the shower. To your dismay, the creak of the spout handle sounded, leaving only the sound of Rafael and Nat King Cole’s voices bouncing against the bathroom walls and lingering into the bedroom.

You didn’t even try to not look a bit disappointed when your singer finally rejoined you in the room, already dressed.

Upon realizing your awoken state, he released a small whine. “Maldito. I was hoping you’d stay asleep just a little while longer.”

You scoffed, “Well, if that was the case, then you shouldn’t have been blasting music and singing along to it.” You made sure to include the smile you’d really wanted to give him at the end of your accusation. Rubbing the last bit of sleep from your eyes, you pushed yourself into an upright position to better greet him.

“What? I thought you liked this song; at least, you loved it when I sang it,” Rafael smirked. As he approached his nightstand to put his watch back on, he looked upward in apparent thought. “I wonder why I felt the need to play it?”

“Gee, I wonder why,” you played along, sarcasm hanging from every word.

Rafael pretended to consider the situation. “Maybe because it’s catchy?”

“Hm. Could be. But I don’t think that that’s the case today.”

“Well, I do,” Rafael shrugged. “So I guess that must be it –”

“Rafi,” you jokingly warned.

“I know, I know,” he finally gave in. With his smile becoming less impish and more sincere, he gently pulled you into a hug. “Happy anniversary, corazón.” A warm, pleasant feeling trickled down your skin as you felt him whisper into your hair.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you looked up at those eyes you loved so much. “Happy anniversary, Rafaelito,” you returned, sealing it with a kiss. The embraces on one another only tightened with the newest sign of affection. The two of you would have potentially stayed like this a bit longer, had Rafael’s playlist not gone on to the next song.

At the sound of the rhythmic drumbeats, followed in by a bouncy flow of piano, you found Rafael’s lips had detached from your own.

“Oh, no …” you muttered as you watched the smile on Rafael’s face grow. “Ra –”

Rafael was unraveling the hug and pulling you off of the bed and to his chest before you could even finish whatever it was you were planning on saying.

“Oh, come on, honey,” he persisted as he noticed you putting up some resistance. “Dance with me a little!”

You shook your head like a stubborn child. “It’s too early!” you tried reasoning.

“It’s never too early or late for Benny Moré! I’m feeling quite lively this fine morning.”

“You’ve been up longer! And besides …” You bit your lip. “You know I can’t keep up with ‘La Cocaleca.’”

“And you never will unless you actually try dancing to it,” Rafael pointed out.

“You sure are lively, Rafi,” you said. “Our anniversary should be every day if it means you’ll be like this more.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “Just come here and follow my lead.”

You weren’t entirely joking when you had said earlier that every day should be your anniversary. It always seemed to bring out the brighter part of Rafael’s personality. The part that very few were privy to.

You were lucky enough to be one of those very few. You were also lucky enough to be the one who got to hold his hand now, as you walked the streets of the city. You had long since given up on trying to figure out where you were headed. Instead, you’d decided to relish in how you hand entwined with his and how he made no qualms against you laying your cheek against his shoulder as the two of you appeared to be walking aimlessly around the area. Even if you were fighting back a growling stomach, empty due to being ushered out of the apartment without breakfast.

Rafael could easily go without a genuine meal, becoming so used to having to snack throughout his days between paperwork and visits to the precinct. You, however, were not as used to it. It also puzzled you a bit that he would even choose to forgo breakfast at all considering that the man loved to actually eat when he could.

You had your suspicions, but kept them to yourself.

“Okay, we’re here,” Rafael spoke, breaking you from your reverie. As you took a moment to gather your surroundings, you found yourself in front of a very familiar café: Café Adelaida. A hint of pride became evident on Rafael’s face as he felt your grip tighten with realization.

As he began to lead you inside of the establishment, the two of you were hit with the smells of coffee and culinary masterpieces, the sounds of dishes and silverware clashing, and people chattering in English and Spanish alike.

“I remember this place: This is the first non-work place we ever went to,” you breathed. Your sparkling eyes flickered from corner to corner, reliving that day and remembering what used to be where, thankful that very little had changed since then.

Rafael chuckled by your side. “Yep: This was where we had our first date,” he confirmed.

“Is that what you want to call it?” you asked tauntingly. “I thought you took me here to prove the superiority of Cuban coffee to American coffee.”

“What, I couldn’t do both? Besides, you should be thanking me: Without this place, you never would’ve known the miracle that is café con leche.” Normally, you would have playfully swatted at his arm for boasting. However, at the prospect of getting some genuine café con leche after such a long hiatus from it, your mouth watered. You would let Rafael have this. For now.

“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have eaten so much,” you whimpered. The weight of the authentic Cuban food you’d eaten a little less than half an hour ago was beginning to hit you. Added in with the fact that you’d been woken up relatively early on a Saturday, and the feeling of sleep was beginning to massage your eyes.

Rafael, interestingly enough, appeared to be wide awake.

“I told you not to push yourself if you couldn’t finish it all in one go,” he reminded. There was a hint of mockery in his tone.

You scowled. “You probably ate more than I did, how are you not ready to collapse onto the pavement!?”

“Because first off, ew. But secondly, I’m a man on a mission. Sube a mi nivel, amor.” He shot you a cocky smirk at that last sentence. If you weren’t so curious as to what kind of mission he was on, you would’ve found motivation to keep up with Rafael by that look of his alone.

Thankfully, you needn’t keep the pace up for too long. A few shortcuts and you found yourself in the park. Thank God, now you could take a seat –

“Not there,” Rafael said as he gave your hand a small tug. You raised an eyebrow but followed his lead. But after looking back on the bench you had nearly sat upon, you realized it had one too many bird dropping stains on it. Good call, Rafi… . And yet, when you came upon the next bench, he did the same thing: “Sorry, sweetie. Not that one, either.”

“Come on, Rafi, I need to sit.”

“Just a little more, then I promise you can sit,” he assured. You gave in, finding no real point in putting up a fuss. For as tired as you were getting, the scenery around you was sure helping you feel better.

It was a lovely day for a stroll around the park: The sun was out, the smell of the blossoms in the trees were carried by the wind, and people were out with their children, dogs, or their own loved ones. You considered stopping for a moment to bask in the stimuli, but Rafael appeared to be focused elsewhere. Interestingly, however, that “elsewhere” was a bench. Not even one with a dedication plaque on it, but a regular, black bench positioned by a small, wiry tree and a previously-planted patch of pansies.

“Okay, (Y/N),” Rafael allowed. “Now you can sit.” He held your hand as you not-so-gracefully plopped your tired body down on the seat. Sighing with relief, you closed your eyes and took in the sounds of the wind in the trees and squeals of laughter from the playset down yonder. The warmth of Rafael’s body soon resonated from your side as he joined you.

“Do you remember this place?” you heard him ask.

“How can I forget the park?” you asked, eyes still closed.

You heard a small laugh. “No, I mean this bench. Do you remember it?”

Opening your eyes, you looked around you. The more you looked, the more you couldn’t help but feel like maybe this wasn’t a regular bench after all. But you couldn’t quite place where this was …

“It’s where we had our first kiss,” Rafael quietly reminded you, gently squeezing your hand at the thought. In an instant, the memories came flooding back. It had been at dusk when the two of you first sat here together, hence why you had trouble remembering it. Everything looks different when it’s darker. But then, everything also looks different when you’re locked in a kiss with someone you feel greatly for.

“How did you remember it was exactly here?” you asked, eyes widened.

“How could I not?” he replied. At this, you slouched in your place on the bench.

“Well, now I feel like crap. I couldn’t remember it …”

“I think I have a way of making you feel better, then,” Rafael offered as he gingerly turned your head to face him.

As much as you enjoyed the stimuli of the soft, sweet breeze and how it carried the smells of the flowers and the sounds of laughter and children at play, it was all so easily drowned out once you found yourself sharing yet another memorable kiss in the place where a new chapter in your relationship had begun.

You were thankful that Rafael decided not to make you suffer again by walking back home. A cab ride may not be entirely romantic (especially after reliving an important stage in one’s relationship), but it sure beat the trouble of arriving home sweaty and too exhausted to get ready for dinner. Not that you were even certain that you could ever be too tired to want to go out Even if you weren’t the biggest fan of fancy dining, doing so with Rafael always made it more tolerable.

However, you might’ve been too eager in your efforts to ready yourself: The cab wasn’t due for another half hour and you’d been sitting on the couch with Rafael the entire time. Not that you truly minded it. Sure, the exchange between you two or lack thereof was quiet, but it was a good kind of quiet. From the way you both took quick glances at each other and held hands in wait against the backdrop of music he’d left on, it was almost adorable. It felt a lot like how it had been when you’d first started dating, if Rafi were a more open person at the time.

It was in this shared moment of silence that the playlist went to its next selection:

So when it rains, I’ll shield your head And when you cry, I’ll wipe those tears. Because it’s you, through all these years, And I’m still in love with you …

“Huh,” Rafael hummed. “This takes me back.”

You tried not to bite your lip and disturb the makeup on it. “Don’t make yourself sound so old, Rafi,” you cooed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Cariño,” he mumbled. “I meant, this brings back a lot of memories for me.”

“Really?” you purred, scooching closer. “Like what?”

Rafael licked his lips in thought. “Well … I once heard this at a bar I went to after a rough day at court. Reminded me how lonely and pathetic I was.”

You nodded. “And?”

“And once, I heard it at a department store when I was shopping for new cologne.”

You pressed your lips together. These weren’t quite the answers you were looking for. “And what else?”

“What else is there?” Rafael prodded. You gently nudged him, knowing that he knew darn well what you were getting at.

“Come on, Rafi, you remember which bench we were on when we first kissed but not what this song means to us?”

“I am afraid that I do not.”

Your frustrated sigh was betrayed by the fact that it came from a smirking mouth. “This is the song you first told me you loved me to.”

Rafael cocked his head as if to mimic the process of thinking. “Is it?”

“Yes!”

“Bueno, mirate,” he finally gave in. “Looks like you have quite the memory on you as well, princesa.” As his thumb grazed across the back of your hand, you couldn’t help but nuzzle at his neck as you recalled that moment: You’d been trying to get him to relax after a tense week. Perhaps your methods had worked too well, as after a couple of minutes spent massaging his shoulders, he uttered out his confession. You’d never seen him so relaxed. And you never thought you’d see him in such a state again.

A sigh of content flowed passed your lips as you enjoyed the feeling of Rafael’s caresses. The remainder of the wait was spent listening to the way he sang in whispers.

“So when the day turns into night, I know that everything’s alright. Because it’s you, through all these years, And I’m still in love with you …”

You knew you should have given Rafael his anniversary gift this morning, before he’d dragged you out of the apartment. Curse Benny Moré and his beautiful voice and its ability to bewitch even the likes of Rafael Barba to dance at nine in the morning. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy all that Rafi had done for you – far from it! Even dinner at a restaurant that required a reservation turned out to be a delightful affair. But now, as you wiped away your makeup and changed into clothes suited for comfort, you couldn’t help but feel … insecure.

Rafael was never one for half-measures: If he wanted to get a point across, then he darn well did it. You both loved this quality and felt a bit rushed by it. Sometimes, he made it so hard for you to keep up with him and gave him back exactly what he gave you. You wanted to make sure that the happiness he supplied you with was returned at the same amount. If not, tenfold!

But how is one to keep up with reliving important relationship firsts and an evening out at a hard-to-get-into facility? How could your gift compare to his?

“Cariño,” you heard Rafael call from the living room.

Drat. It was too late to toss it out of the window and pretend that you’d ordered something that had gotten lost in the mail.

With the shaky sigh, you resigned delaying the inevitable. You willed your hands to not shake the rectangular package wrapped in pastel blue paper and proceeded to where your significant other was.

As you entered the room, Rafael appeared to be messing with the stereo.

That man and his music, you thought, taking a seat on the couch. If he thought he was going to get you twirling and twisting to more Benny Moré on a full stomach, then he had another thing coming. Thankfully, the sound of brass and percussion instruments never pierced the air, even as he appeared to be finished with whatever task he had put himself up to.

Swiveling to meet your sitting form, Rafael neared you with a purpose before stopping just before you.

After clearing his throat (which caused you to roll your eyes at the theatrics), Rafael began to extent his hand. “Cariño,” he repeated. “Would you please –”

“Wait!” You had to admit, you startled yourself by blurting that out in the midst of Rafael’s sentence. Now you went and made it awkward. “Uh …” you stammered. “I … I –” With no other thoughts to fall back on, you softly directly the package in your hands to Rafael. “Before we do anything else, please open my gift …” You hadn’t meant to sound so quiet or uncertain. You wanted to take the box back and smack it into your face.

Rafael, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind, taking a seat on the cushion next to you and accepting the parcel from you.

“Careful,” you instructed. “There’s glass.” You said nothing more as you watched him gingerly peel back the wrapping to reveal your gift.

It was a shadow box. One you’d made over the course of the last few months whenever he was out. Your silhouettes, white and standing in the foreground, were further emphasized by the vivid imagery that served as the background: Stickers of Spanish phrases, pictures of the two of you, of him at work or cooking. Stickers of coffee mugs and sandwiches and of the Cuban and American flag. Images of the people both of you found attractive. There was even a textured sticker of a leather jacket pasted in one corner, with “Ramirez” scrawled on the back in gold sharpie. And, dangling from a white ribbon at the top of the box, was the first ring he’d ever bought you.

It was a Valentine’s Day gift, you wore the thing to practical death until Rafael convinced you to move on to something cleaner and less scratched up. He didn’t know that you kept the thing in your jewelry box until now.

Rafael said nothing as he began to realize the components of the box in his lap, and it made you nervous. You anxiously began to twirl a lock of hair and began muttering.

“I know it’s not expensive or crazy out-there or anything but …” You trailed. But what? There was no butt. You had no excuses; you just couldn’t keep up with the likes of Rafael Barba.

He said nothing, slowly placing the shadow box onto the coffee table. You tried not to sigh in disappointment and embarrassment. Well. So much for ending the evening with –

A small squeak slipped out of you as you found yourself being pressed flush against Rafael’s chest, his arms wasting no time to wrap themselves around you in a world of warmth. But what was even warmer was the way his words puffed into your hair as he murmured a thank you. And it sounded so genuine. You couldn’t believe it.

“Bu – ” Once again, you were cut off. This time, by the constant peppering of kisses along your face. In between every other peck were coos of “thank you” and how much the kisser himself appreciated your gift.

“But,” you attempted again, “you went and did all this other neat stuff! You even remembered all these firsts …” At this, Rafael stopped his flattery and maintained eye contact.

“Not every first. I mean, not yet …”

Your eyes would’ve popped from your head had your brows not pressed downward in disbelief.

“You mean there’s more!?” you cried. “I can’t keep up!”

“But I really loved what you gave me, Cari –”

“You did all this thoughtful stuff and all I got you was a high school art project,” you whimpered, pressing your hands to your face in shame. It therefore frustrated you to hear the man beside you actually chuckling in your moment of dramatic despair.

“Ahem,” you groused. You lowered your hands to reveal a glare. “I’m in distress, here, Rafi, let me mope.”

“Si, si, I can see that,” Rafael said. “Pero mira: I’m serious. I really do love your gift. It’s something only you could give me, and it’s something I’d only accept from you.” In sincerity, he placed a hand on your cheek to caress it. “And speaking of accepting …” Reaching at the coffee table, he retrieved the remote to the stereo and clicked the play button.

With the whirring of it spring to life, it did not take long for the air to be filled, once more, with the sound of a very familiar song. Only it wasn’t rowdy and heavy like “La Cocaleca”, or even low and slow like “Still in Love with You.” It wasn’t even in necessarily bouncy in the way that “L-O-V-E” was.

It was the only song to truly strike a chord with in you that evening, the only song to make you forget all your worries for the moment and gasp. The hand that flew to your mouth caught a sliver of tear that managed to escape your eye.

It was the first song that you and Rafael had danced to as husband and wife.

It took Rafael clearing his throat once more and offering his hand to you yet again for you to reel yourself back in.

“(Y/N) – mi alma,” he spoke, eyes still transfixed on your own. “¿Me concedes éste baile?”

In your excitement, you had forgotten words. However, you definitely didn’t forget how to take your husband’s hand and all but launch yourself at him as he chuckled, putting his unoccupied hand at your waist as he led you to more open ground.

“It only took a kiss to know this: Baby, I’m in love with you. One look is all it took To say, ‘I do.’ And baby, when you smile, I’d walk a mile Oh, just to be with you For a chance at that glance That says, ‘Me too.’”

In the midst of your simplistic swaying, you could hear him humming along to the first verse. You could poke fun at him all you wanted to about his habit of singing in the privacy of his home; you felt blessed to be able to hear him do it at all. You couldn’t help but squeeze his hand, tempted to join with him.

“So when it comes to those other guys, This may come as no surprise: I don’t get jealous; I don’t worry ‘Cause I’m with you.”

Damn the temptation.

“It only took a kiss – but what a kiss! And baby, I love you,” you joined in. “What a look – oh your look – That says, ‘I do’! And baby, I agree: I’d rather be Nowhere else but here, my dear. There’s no place – I feel so safe! – Than here with you – ”

“Then here with you,” your partner echoed. Harmonizing, you sang in unison:

“It’s like finding a penny and pickin’ it up And all day, you’ll have good luck. It only took a look – It only took a smile – It only took a kiss.”

As the song’s bridge in the form of a piano solo began, you couldn’t help but blush. No matter how often the two of you sang together, or how eager Rafael always ways to get you to sing at all, it always made you nervous. And considering the value of this song to you, the sense of unity and love that performing it so beautifully required – it all became too much.

You attempted to nuzzle your burning face into Rafael’s chest, but he apparently knew exactly what you were up to.

“A bit late in the night and marriage to still feel coy about this, isn’t it, (Y/N)?” he snickered. He laughed even more when you grumpily patted at his back with the hand that had been at his waist. “Five years and you still get flustered when I get you to sing.”

“Keep talking like that and see what happens,” you mumble-threatened, face still snug against his torso.

Rafael pursed his lips. “What’ll happen, then? I’m curious.” He pulled you away from your position against his middle to give you a twirl. By the time he allowed you back to him, your face was turned outward, your ear placed at the perfect position to hear his heart beat against your ear.

“I dunno … You know I have double the love to give, I could find somebody easy.” You immediately regretted such a joke. It just wasn’t the kind of thing anyone would want to hear whilst dancing to the first song they played as a married couple, bisexual or not.

And yet, Rafael didn’t seem fazed at all. If anything, it might’ve been why a small smirk was now playing on his lips. “Oh, I don’t doubt that,” he said. “But me? Without you?” His hold on you tightened as you felt your body being lowered. At the end of the dip, Rafael pressed a loving kiss to your neck. “Eso es imposible.”

The goosebumps remained on your skin even as he pulled you back into an upright position.

“It only took a kiss,” Rafael sang along, daring you to follow.

“I know you say,” you followed.

“ – to know this: I’m in love with you –”

“ – you’re in love with me –”

“One look is all it took to say, ‘I do’ –”

“ – you know I love you, too –”

“And baby, when you smile –”

“Why should I question –”

“ – oh, just to be with you –”

“ – how I feel for you?”

“ – for a chance at that glance that says, ‘Me, too.’”

“You make me feel brand new,” you cuddled against your husband once more, feeling less nervous with every line you professed.

“So please believe me when I say,” the two of you chanted together, “I’ve never felt this way. And trust me with you heart – I knew right from the start –”

“It only took a look – it only took a smile – it only took a kiss.”

“It only took a look – it only took a smile – it only took a kiss,” you repeated, daring yourself to look up at the one you loved so much. The smiles you both shared were brighter than the lighting of the lamp in the corner of the room. The desire to pull him into one big kiss, expressing not nearly enough of what you could tell him, what you could thank him with – that was all you wanted in this moment. Just one more line in this song, to give him the sense of completion he always aimed for when he sang. Then you could do exactly what your heart was begging for you to do.

“It only took a look,” you whispered. “It only took a smile. It only –”

By the time you realized that Rafael had not been singing along with you anymore, it had become old news. At this moment, all you could remain aware of was the way his lips were pressed against yours and how his hands, no longer in your own or on your waist, were now cupping your cheek and holding your body even closer to his respectively. Without hesitation your own hands slipped up his back to hold him close. Any possibility of space between the two of you closed.

The sheer power and adoration that flowed into the affection were overwhelming. Beautiful. Warm. The concept of loneliness and confusion were nonexistent.

You sighed into the kiss, completely swept into a state of pure bliss. Four years dating, five years of marriage, and Rafael Barba still managed to surprise you and love you as if every day were the first day of your lives together.

You were both lucky. You were both exceedingly blessed. For all the people you could have loved, even with double the possibilities of the average person, both you and Rafael were so happy and lucky to have found the half that was perfect for them.

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