Anti-Prop 8 Drabblethon/Ficletathon/Love-In/Whatever

[trinityofone]

As most of you probably already know, the California Supreme Court has upheld Proposition 8, the gay marriage ban.

I am fucking pissed off.

bmouse and I are heading to a protest in about an hour, but I doubt that will be enough to vent all the anger and helpless rage from my system. So! Let's have a little love-in right here: gimme a prompt and I will do my best to write a drabble or ficlet for you. SPN, SGA, crossovers, whatever else you think I may know well enough to write. Due to the circumstances, slash or femslash preferred! Happy prompts preferred! Dean/Castiel preferred...okay, that last one is just me. You may also feel free to write me some of that here. ;-)

I'm not sure how much I'll be able to tackle before Thursday (my first day off in a week, GOD) but lay 'em on me and I'll do my best. And, you know—if anyone else wants to respond to any of the prompts, have at 'em! We can totally handle more than one response to some of these, I'm thinking.

Comments

I sort of fail at my own premise, but...

[trinityofone.livejournal.com]

A lot of people at the protest seem to think that Barney’s a narc, which, fine—he’ll just take his awesome suit to an “anti-shorts worn with Birkenstocks and hand-knit wool socks” protest next—but everyone thinks Robin is crazy. She’s really into it, chanting chants that are apparently really popular at protests up in Canadia but down here in the U.S.A. (United States of Awesome-Most-of-the-Time-But-Unfortunately-Not-in-This-Instance), make absolutely no sense. Marshall is still trying to figure out how the moose fits in.

Robin doesn’t seem to care. She’s totally amped up, and if this ends with cops and riot gear, Marshall and James and Ted’ll probably have to hold her down and sit on her to stop her from rushing them. (Barney would still bet on Robin scattering New York’s finest like bowling pins—10-1, easy.)

But while he’s still contemplating putting in a call to his bookie, Robin grabs his hand and starts pulling him toward a raised platform where people with an inflated sense of self-worth can get up and speak for a few minutes—or in the case of the woman who currently won’t shut up about vegetarianism (which relates to the topic at hand how, exactly?), what feels like hours. You’re supposed to patiently wait your turn, but Robin rockets up there and yanks the bullhorn from the surprised vegan, who looks flustered but eventually bows to the force of Robin’s crazed Canadian personality.

“Hello, New York!” Robin bellows, and Barney’s brain is suddenly filled with the truly legendary image of Robin Sparkles leading an army of angry liberals in a spirited rendition of “Let’s Go to the Mall!”

Even though he knows she’s not actually going to do that, she’s still kind of the most awesome person ever.

What she does next only reinforces the point: she grabs him by the tie and kisses him like they’re posing for a VE-Day photograph. “Barney and I aren’t married!” she breaks off to shout, leaving him grinning. “Unmarried sex is way hotter, anyway!”

Barney hears a muffled cry he’s pretty sure is Lily shouting, “Hey!”

“Let’s show ’em,” Robin says, half into the megaphone, half out, so Barney isn’t sure if she’s talking to him, or to the crowd, or to the world.

It doesn’t really matter, though, because then she’s all over him, exhibitionist-style. For a second the crowd seems stunned, but then a cheer starts up, slow at first, and finally, Barney thinks, with the particularly wicked half of his brain, his skills are getting the appreciation they deserve.

The other half, though…it just needs half a sec. He grabs the megaphone with one hand—the other continues to work on Robin’s bra strap, because yes, he really is that awesome—and brings it somewhere near the neighborhood of his mouth. “Hey, James,” he says, “even though you were totally lame and tied the knot, I bet you and Tom can still—occasionally—bring it.” He anticipates the ‘hey!’ “You and Marshall, too, Lils!”

Barney waits long enough to make sure that both couples are following his advice, then returns his attention to Robin. She’s watching him with a quirked brow, while still managing to do something naughty with her hand.

Barney starts to speak, but at the last second, something catches his eye. “Hey, Ted,” he shouts, picking up the megaphone again, “isn’t that that girl from your class?”

Wingman duties fulfilled, he tosses the megaphone aside. The rabid vegetarian and her girlfriend have already claimed the prime position on the stage, so he lets Robin lead him aside and push him up against a support column. “You know what we just did?” he asks, breath escaping him in an awed whoosh. “We just turned a protest into an orgy.”

Robin expression turns wide-eyed and innocent; she’s so wonderfully devious sometimes that even he isn’t always sure if she’s playing him. “There’s a difference?”

“Maybe that’s how you roll up in Canada—”

Robin kisses him and laughs and kisses him. “Eh,” she says, “you guys are getting there.”