my pride weekend


fictional ladies of the 19th century: Georgiana Darcy 

Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; and, though little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother; but there was sense and good-humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle. Elizabeth, who had expected to find in her as acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was much relieved by discerning such different feelings.

My heart is so heavy this morning. I’ve been seeing the list of victims and their ages that have been released so far and I almost began crying.

When will this country fucking say enough? How many more innocent people have to die before change is actually made? In the past 2 and a half years, since the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary, there have been almost 1,000 mass shootings in the US. These have totaled to at least 1,100 people killed with thousands more injured.

The shooters at both Sandy Hook and Pulse had assault rifles. The movie theater shooting in Aurora Colorado was done with an AR. Those are only a FEW of the incidents these weapons have been used at, the the number has only increased dramatically in the past year or so.

Yet assault rifles are still legal to purchase in the US. A weapons ban bill was introduced last year that would have stopped manufacturing of assault weapons, and place harder restrictions on the sale of already existing assault weapons. This bill did not get passed.

The waiting period to purchase guns - yes, including assault weapons - is generally 3 to 5 days depending on the state. That’s it. A week. Omar Mateen, the Pulse shooter, obtained his weapons a few days before the shooting. Even the fact that he was on a government watch list did not restrict him from this legal purchase.

I am tired of gun rights being more important than LGBTQIA rights. I am tired of gun rights being more important than human rights. I am tired of politicians saying banning them “would not work”. I’m sorry, but look at the rest of the fucking world. Clearly it’s working for tons of other countries, why are we so goddamn different?

It’s disgusting. I’m angry. I’m fed up with this bullshit and I’m sick of seeing people say restricting gun laws would not fix things. I’m sick of people saying letting more men and women carry guns would be a better solution than more extensive background checks and longer waiting periods and stricter laws around owning guns. I don’t know what fucking world your head is in to think something like that.

There is no reason. ABSOLUTELY NO REASON. A citizen needs to own an assault weapon. NONE. An assault weapon is not a weapon for protection. It is not a weapon for sport. It is a weapon of WAR and it’s ONLY PURPOSE is killing.

I am angry. I am heartbroken. I am scared for our community and I am disheartened that these safe spaces are being robbed from us. I am upset that it’s necessary for us to say “most recent shooting” or “today’s/yesterday’s shooting” when discussing the tragedy. I am upset that this will affect Pride gatherings and parades, making them feel unsafe and causing people to no longer want to go - especially people who would be attending their first Pride.

To everyone in our community, everyone reading this: I love you all. You are all important and loved and strong. And stay safe. No matter what that means for you, stay safe. And my inbox is always open if anyone needs it.

Pride on the Sound

Read now on Ao3

He’s not sure what he’s doing here, pressed against a crowd of barely-clad bodies, but Dean knows it’s definitely Jo’s fault. He’s got smudges of multi-colored paint on his arms and more glitter than a kindergarten all over his everything. The crowd cheers as another group marches by, singing songs and throwing gummy dicks and boobs into the crowd. Jo catches one and pops it in her mouth, turning back briefly to grin at Dean before leaning forward again to lose herself in the crowd pressing against the barriers and the back of the cute redhead she’s been chatting with since they got there. Eva? Anna? Whatever. Jo’s the one who got CPO Walker to grant them leave from base today along with a handful of other sailors just assigned to Kitsap. He and Jo had served together when they first enlisted, down in San Diego, but had been assigned to different ships for the past few years. It’d been a shock to see her cross the mess at Kitsap, but Dean would be lying if it wasn’t damn good to see her. She’d introduced him to Adam, who’d served with her at their last base in Yokosuka. And today she’d roped both of them and a kid named Kevin into coming down with her. “You can’t miss your first Pride in Seattle!” she’d said across the table one morning. Dean had been too tired to argue, so here he is in a colorful, sweaty mass of people covered in rainbow paraphernalia.

Despite the abundance of naked, painted chests around him, Dean can’t help but be glad for the fitted white tee Jo let him wear. She’d also insisted on the pair of jeans that “make your ass look amazing, jerkwad,” which he’s regretting if only because of the heat. There have been enough appreciative looks that he can’t be too mad. He grins as Jo sways further into the red-head, letting himself get caught up in the noise. He whistles as the Gay Men’s Chorus tromps by, singing “We Are Young” and accepts a fabric lei and a kiss of the cheek from a troupe of drag queens with coconut bras. Marriage equality is a thing and he’s going to enjoy the hell out of being surrounded by people as thrilled and relieved as he is. The crowd surges and knocks him off balance and into a solid chest. Grimacing, Dean looks back, apology half out of his mouth, only to see the most striking man he’s ever seen. Dark hair spiked with sweat, piercing blue eyes and a kind smile—and he’s shirtless, of course, exposing broad shoulders and firm arms. “No worries,” he says, squeezing Dean’s hips –how did he miss those hands—before stepping back again. Dean can’t help but smile back at him before turning back around.

This time, though, he’s aware of the presence behind him. Tall-Dark-and-Studly stays close, obviously so if they weren’t in the middle of the heart of Pride. The crowd shifts enough that Dean finds him more to his side than at his back, darts sideways glances to see the joy on the man’s face as he whoops at a passing float. A redhead throws her arm around his shoulder and screams, “That’s my girl!” and the woman in massive sequined wings at the top of the float grins and waves at them. The redhead whoops again and the man laughs. Dean can’t help but stare as the sound reaches him, snapping out of it when he realizes the redhead is grinning at him. She winks before turning back to the parade.

He blushes and ducks his head only to find Jo staring at him too. He rolls his eyes and she sticks her tongue out at him before waggling her eyebrows in the universal “tap that” signal.

Ignoring the signals from both of the girls, Dean tries to focus on the parade again. It’s a river of sequins and spandex in every color possible, on every body possible. It’s beautiful. As he sees a couple of men crying as they kiss, he finds himself aching for the kid he used to be who had no concept of Pride or that he was anything other than broken or wrong. Shaking his head, Dean looks back to find Tall-Dark-and –Studly looking at him seriously. Dean shakes his head and smiles, but the man says “Do you need water?”

“Uh,” Dean stutters, blindsided by the simple question. But it’s hot and now that he’s mentioned it, Dean is getting overheated. “Yeah,” he says, ducking his head in thanks.

“C’mon,” the other man says, grabbing Dean’s wrist and leading him out of the crowd.

“Whoa, wait a sec,” Dean sputters. “I have-“ he says before realizing that Jo has the bag with their water bottles and she’s now a crowd of people away.

“Here,” T-D-&-S says, handing him an ice cold bottle. He’s already handing the vendor a five before Dean can catch up with what’s happening, cracking open a bottle of his own.  “Hydrate or die.”

Dean barks a laugh and takes a deep gulp of water before saying, “Thanks.  You didn’t need to do that.”

“Probably not,” TD&S says. “But, now I get to talk to you. So, I’m taking that as a win.”

“Uh,” Dean chokes, turning red.

Grinning the other man holds out his hand, “Castiel Novak, Medical Student.  Very concerned with the hydration of the cute man in front of him at Pride.”

“Dean Winchester,  IP1, Navy. Thankful for medical students concerned with hydration.”


“Ah,” Dean swallows. “Information Professional, Petty Officer First Class.” He winks. “At your service.”

Throwing his head back, Cas laughs. “Are you now? Well, I have some strategies we could go over. At my place?”

Licking his lower lip, Dean says, “I think I can help you out, Doc. Least I can do after you came to my rescue.” He shakes the now-empty water bottle before grabbing Castiel’s and tossing them into the nearby recycling bin. They walk down the street, smiling at the crowd and handing out high fives to those that ask.

As they turn off the main street, Castiel says, “Call me Cas.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sir?” Cas pauses midstride to look at Dean.

Dean winks, “Medical personnel are commissioned officers—above my rate.”

“Interesting. And do you take orders well?” Castiel leans close, crowding Dean against the parked car behind him.

“I guess you’ll find out.” Dean smirks and Castiel all but growls.

Yeah, Dean’s not sure how Jo got them there, but he’s damn sure he came. Best Pride ever.


#Blackout ft My baby(brother) He’s one of the sweetest ,most charismatic, charming, passionate, had strong, funny guys I know. But because his skin is darker and he’s super tall, quick witted and sags a bit it is intimidating. I feel for him so much. He doesn’t even realize the greatest in him. He’s gone through so much over bull in his school career. Been called a nigger repeatedly to his face and when he retaliated only he was reprimanded by the school. Stood up on a bus to get a book that fell only to be kicked off. Laughed in class and got oss etc. No he isn’t perfect, yes he makes mistakes. But the crime never matches the punishment when people already consider you a criminal. I understand being a black male nowadays is such a uphill battle. But this is for you little brother! I still believe in you and have faith in you even if the world gives up on you. Your black is beautiful. Your black is overcoming. Your black is powerful!