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#happy Pride queers
wanderinthedeep · 11 months
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bad photo quality/great photos material
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anthrofreshtodeath · 11 months
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So many good prompts for rizzoli and isles and I know you'll do 'em good.
12. nervous embarrassment around them (blushing, fidgeting etc)
16. naturally gravitating closer together
Thank you for the request! I put these two together. It takes place in a gay bar because, you know, happy pride!
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Eight minutes.
Eight minutes and fifteen seconds since, for a sting operation, Maura had kissed Jane for the first time.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Jane had definitely just kissed Maura first. Another gay bar - there are a lot of those in Boston - another ladies’ night, another spouse as a possible murder suspect. This time, it had been one of the very attractive go-go dancers, all oiled up and well-muscled with a way of moving his hips that Maura, once upon a time, would have drooled over. 
But he hadn’t believed the cover, that Jane and Maura were a couple, and, well, Jane never liked to be challenged. Called a liar. Even if, this time, it was a very calculated, elaborate, intentional lie.
So, eight minutes ago, Jane had scoffed at him, looked Maura in the eye, and said low enough for the music to drown out her words for everyone but Maura, “I’m gonna kiss you now, ok? And it’s gonna be good.”
Oh Jane and her infuriating arrogance. Because it was good. She issued that warning more with her breath than her voice, each word a fog settling over the wet want on Maura’s lips - Maura’d licked them in anticipation. When Maura thought about it further, she realized that she may even have licked Jane’s, too. Just an incidental little swipe, but the taste of vodka she never drank went up to her brain just before Jane short-circuited it. 
And Maura did try to curl her upper lip in a smirk, to raise an eyebrow in a sexy question, to wrap her arms around Jane’s broad shoulders, but she was unsure if any of it stuck when Jane finally pressed her mouth into Maura’s and lingered. 
It wouldn’t have altered her life so much if, when they met, let their lips slide and suck, Jane hadn’t sagged like she was home. But Maura knew the sag - saw it every time she followed Jane into her apartment and Jane finally kicked off her boots or set down the bag of groceries. The home sag. 
Maybe that was why the suspect believed it, too. “Well, fuck,” he said, all breathless laughter when it ended, and she wished he was giving them an order, rather than expressing his approval. “I can admit when I’m wrong.”
Jane had turned, looked at him, and shrugged.
That was eight minutes prior.
Now they waited by the bar, with the pretense of watching some of the dancers, slipping dollars into their g strings as they made their way around, and Jane had work on the mind. “Gotta lay low for a bit,” she said, leaning in close. She wrapped her big right hand over Maura’s left knee, in a more intimate gesture than she’d ever shown before - especially when, covered by the bar itself, no one could see it. “That was a bold move, and I don’t want him gettin’ spooked. We’re this close.”
Maura looked at the earpiece in Jane’s ear, and then down at her own hands. Was Jane talking to Sargeant Korsak, or her? She twirled the ring on her middle finger, and the leg under Jane’s fingers danced on the stool below. This was for show, right? Because Jane was inches from her and shucking off any decorum, undercover or not. “I…”
“Hey, you a’right?” Jane interrupted. 
“Wha-?” Maura asked, jostled out of her own thoughts. The bar pulsated in the darkness, occasional flashes of light coming down from above. House music vibrated the bones of her chest and it contributed to her confusion. Jane’s eyes searched only Maura.
“Now I know the answer is no,” laughed Jane. “Leave the half words to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Maura said, a little more like herself. She tugged on the hem of her dress, down out of habit and then up out of hope. Jane’s thumb slipped into the space between her legs. Maura wiggled her knee in overdrive. 
“No it’s uh, you’re fidgeting. You never fidget,” said Jane. “You afraid we’re gonna get hurt?”
“Are you being obtuse?” Maura asked in reply.
“Wha-?” It was Jane’s turn.
“No. I mean yes, of course, but that’s a worry of mine with every case. I mean… that, the kiss. It changed something, didn’t it? Isn’t it obvious that that’s why I’m-”
“Hey, hey oh,” Jane put her hand out, a signal for Maura to pause. She stuffed a hand into the front of her button-up shirt, and Maura assumed she’d just shut off her microphone. “This is a conversation all of BPD shouldn’t be privy to, ok?”
Maura conceded that. How embarrassing. “Yes,” she answered. “But I’m fidgeting because I’m still thinking about…”
“The kiss,” Jane finished.
Maura fingered the lapel of Jane’s fanciest blazer. One that enhanced her handsomeness and the sense of danger she carried with her everywhere, the one drawing the eyes of so many women even as they talked to one another. “The kiss,” Maura confirmed.
“I told ya it was gonna be good,” Jane replied like that might solve or nullify Maura’s current predicament.
“Does… did that mean it was also fake?” Maura chanced. Jane leaned in, unable to resist. Maura blushed immediately at the implication. She busied her fingers with the task of straightening Jane’s collar.
“Do you want it to be fake?” Jane hedged.
“Jane,” admonished Maura. 
“It was for the job,” Jane rallied. Maura watched Jane gain that metaphorical footing and shuffle away from the edge. Towards Maura. “It… I started it for the job. But when we were in it, y’know, really in it, I felt…”
“Home?” Maura supplied.
Jane blanched. Her mouth dropped open just enough to show some teeth, her upper lip rose in a wave of fear and vulnerability. Her pupils closed in tight and Maura knew the terror of having been seen. She felt that terror every day with Jane. But too much more and Jane might run. “How’d-”
“I know you,” Maura said. “I’m with you so much that I know what home feels like to you. Because it’s what it feels like to me.” Then, so as not to send Jane for the nearest exit, Maura took her trembling hand and slipped into the front of Jane’s shirt, and switched the mic dial back on. “But we’ve got a job to do, and I don’t want to jeopardize that. So maybe this is a home discussion?”
“Y-yeah,” Jane stuttered. “We’ll pick things up at home.” And then, her concentration appeared back on the murderous dancer - alleged murderous dancer - of their case. But, when she sipped her drink, knocking back most of the vodka at the bottom, she kept her hand close to the heat of Maura’s bare thighs.
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baph0met1 · 2 years
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more satanenvi bc i am weak and gay. he’s braiding his hair <3
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bluestonewings · 4 months
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ACES!!! Look at this Scientific American article!!! It makes me genuinely so happy to read. We’re making it!!!!
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/asexuality-is-finally-breaking-free-from-medical-stigma/
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queerism1969 · 8 months
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azuremist · 10 months
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“Unfinished Painting” — Keith Haring
This painting was left intentionally incomplete. Haring began it when he was dying due to complications from AIDS, and knew he didn’t have much time left. The piece represents the incomplete lives of him and many others, lost to AIDS during the crisis.
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“AIDS Memorial Quilt” — Multiple
This quilt is over 50 tons heavy, and one of, if not the, largest pieces of community folk art. Many people who died of AIDS did not receive funerals, due to social stigma and many funeral homes refusing to handle the deceased’s remains, so this was one of the only ways their lives could be celebrated. Each panel was created in recognition of someone who died due to AIDS, typically by that person’s loved ones.
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“Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) — Felix Gonzalez-Torres
This pile of candy weighs the same amount as Gonzalez-Torres’ partner, Ross Laycock, did. Ross Laycock had died due to AIDS-related complications earlier that same year. Visitors who see this piece are encouraged to take some of the candy. As they do so, the pile of candy weighs less and less, like how AIDS had deteriorated the body of Ross Laycock.
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The SF Gay Men's Chorus
This photo was taken in 1993. The men in white are the surviving original members. Every man in black is standing in for an original member who lost their lives to AIDS.
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“Electric Fan (Feel it Motherfuckers); Only Unclaimed Item from the Stephen Earabino Estate, 1997” — John Boskovich
After the death of his lover, Stephen Earabino, from AIDS, Boskovich discovered that his family had completely cleared his room, including Boskovich’s own possessions, save for this fan. An entire person, existence and relationship had been erased, just like so many lives during the AIDS crisis. Boskovich encased the fan in Plexiglass, but added cutouts so that its air may be felt by the viewer, almost like an exhalation. In a sense, restoring Earabino’s breath.
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“Blue” — Derek Jarman
This was Jarman’s final feature film, released four months before his death from AIDS-related complications. These complications had left him visually impaired, able to only see in shades of blue. This film consists of a single shot of a saturated blue color, as the soundtrack to the film described Jarman’s life through narration, intercut with the adventures of Blue, a humanization of the color blue. The film's final moments consist of a set of repeated names: “John. Daniel. Howard. Graham. Terry. Paul". These are the names of former lovers and friends of Jarman who had died due to AIDS.
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“Untitled” (Perfect Lovers) — Felix Gonzalez-Torres
Created by the same man who created the previous untitled piece, this piece was also inspired by his lover’s deterioration and death due to AIDS. This piece consists of two perfectly alike clocks. Over the course of time, one of the clocks will fall out of sync with the other.
In a letter written to his lover about the piece, before his lover’s passing, Gonzalez-Tourres wrote, “Don't be afraid of the clocks, they are our time, the time has been so generous to us. We imprinted time with the sweet taste of victory. We conquered fate by meeting at a certain time in a certain space. We are a product of the time, therefore we give back credit were it is due: time. We are synchronized, now forever. I love you.”
Please feel free to reblog with more additions
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savagegood · 11 months
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enemies to lovers? and they were teammates - and roommates? men’s sports have nothing on women’s sports
and this particular guy... cry harder (imagine if women's sports had the funding, visibility and accessibility men's sports are gifted):
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chuutoro · 2 years
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since it’s pride month, throwback to this beautiful cover and this wholesome interaction between two icons
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msboutofcontext · 2 years
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jojo-oliver · 11 months
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happy pride!!!! I made these paintings for us!!!! PLEASE use them!! as long as it's for personal use only 💖 i have a print shop and kofi if you want to throw any money at me, love u 💖
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[ID in alt text] this is part 2/2!!! other part here stickers or prints of this series here
ok bye have a great pride month!!!! BE QUEER KICK ASS!!!!!
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philosmene · 10 months
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What if I were to describe Nimona in one fanart 😈 has anyone done this yet?!
Reference image below for ur shipping + wingperson memes
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theartofmadeline · 9 months
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This Barbie is AroAce!
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axolotlsforlife · 7 months
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HAPPY INTENATIONAL LESBIAN DAY!!! 🧡🧡🤍💖💖
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queerism1969 · 9 months
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veronicabunnies · 11 months
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happy pride month! i hope you are blossoming into your favorite self
❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤
image id: a collage of close-up photos of flowers, arranged in vertical stripes to form a rainbow. from left to right: pink rhododendrons, red rhododendrons, orange poppies, yellow lilies, green leaves, blue poppies, purple irises, and violet lilacs.
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excitementshewrote · 10 months
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