#so devastated about the Supreme Court decisions and maybe need to sit for a while and think and take refuge in other worlds for a bit befor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years

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Omg I love all your drabbles they are so amazing and brilliant I can’t believe you do that for free! What a blessing you are!! I was wondering whether there would be a part four to the vacation au and if not could you do maybe more jealous Cassian but in your lawyer au I’m obsessed but honestly anything you write has me happy!

This is so sweet I am so glad you’re loving the drabbles! I did a second part to the vacation AU a couple days ago so I’m going to go with Jealous Cassian in the lawyer AU. I already *kind* of did this but I’ve been doing jealousy light lately and this time we are cranking it up to 100. This one is kinda long and pretty angsty and I think I definitely need to smoosh all these lawyer drabbles into a mini story that follows Nessian from meeting while studying for the bar exam and then through snippets of their careers so maybe that’s what I’ll do next.

Actually facing Nesta in court was an extreme rarity. All of her non pro Bono work was strictly solicitor. Drafting contracts and negotiating deals in different chic board rooms with little glass bottles of Perrier and complimentary latte carts trolling the halls.

Nesta thought that she didn’t want to litigate. She thought that people didn’t like her and because of that she was a bad advocate. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Watching Nesta fight for something that she believed in, truly believed in, was the closest thing to a religious experience Cassian had ever known.

“And I would urge you to consider in your decision, your honour, the fact that even if it should apply in this case, the very law my learned friend is attempting to uphold is currently under review by the Supreme Court and may soon be overturned on the basis of being unconstitutional as well as unconscionable.” Nesta took a pregnant pause.

“If that happens. If this law is overturned, as you well know, it will not be retroactively helpful to my client. My client who was born here. My client who grew up in Queens. My client who can draw you a map of which bodegas has the best coffee vs the best sandwiches and their proximity to the nearest train, and if that doesn’t qualify her as an American, and a New Yorker, then I don’t know what does.” The judge smiled a little at that. It was a calculated risk, the emotional appeal. But Judge Miluski was already on Nesta’s side and she was a born and bread New Yorker and she had the rare distinction of being a member of the judiciary with a sense of humour. “If this law is overturned, which we both know is highly likely, then my client will be sent to another country, a country she has never even been to, not because she did anything wrong, but because this trial happened a few weeks too-”

Nesta trailed off, eyes caught at the quietly opening gallery door. A man stepped in. Tall and thin and… greasy. Hair slicked back with so much product Cassian didn’t think he’d feel it if he hit him on the head with a hammer. Which he desperately wanted to do. That brutish, violent, raised in foster homes in Harlem side of him that even a legal education and a closet full of Armani suits could never quite polish out of him lit on fire at the sight of this creep. This asshole who was wearing fucking asics with his $4000 suit. And no tie. Top three buttons of a pinstripe white shirt unbuttoned. What a fucking rube.

Except that this guy. THIS fucking guy, made Nesta lose her train of thought. This guy who walked into court late and had yet to drag his eyes up from Nesta’s ass, had distracted her. Caused her to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and smile a little. This shy, light, cutesy little smile that absolutely did not belong on Nesta Archeron’s face.

When Nesta smiled it was a sly, knowing, victorious thing that curled across her lips and set Cassian’s heart hammering in his chest.

This… this was insanity.

The man smirked, deep and arrogant, as he stood at the back of the courtroom, hands slid into his pockets. Not even respectful enough of the proceedings to sit down.

Nesta gathered herself quickly. The whole mess over in under 20 seconds, but Cassian noticed it. Even as Nesta went on and cited the law and the competing jurisprudence and the ethics and the constitution, he couldn’t focus. All he could think about was that little smile.

Cassian said his final piece, the judge ruled, as they both knew she would, in Nesta’s favor, and it was all over.

Nesta didn’t even gloat like she usually would have. She just stuck her hand out, the absolute picture of professionalism, and shook his.

“Good working with you, Counseler.” She said, as if he hadn’t pulled her around the side of a building and pushed her body up against a brick wall the other day, moulding her into him as they fought over this case. Discussed their future. Their passions.

She’d rejected his invitation to dinner, but she always did. It was a part of the game. A game that Cassian was determined to win.

“Who’s the tech bro?” The sneakers with the suit and the unbuttoned shirt and the general shitty attitude all pointed to that being the only reasonable profession.

“Babe,” the slimy man in question pushed past the swinging waist high half door that separated the gallery and the space where counsel’s desks sat. “Let’s go.” He wrapped and arm too tightly around Nesta’s waist and pulled on her a little.

Cassian curled his fists into his palms so hard his nails bit imprints into the skin of his palms. Babe? Telling her when to leave? The pulling? No.

“I’m Cassian.” He held out his hand. “ADA. What firm do you work for? Haven’t seen you around.”

“Tomas.” The man scoffed, “And I’m not a lawyer. Not interested in all that gibberish you’re type is always spewing. Sounds like pure nonsense to me. I’m a tech investor.”

Yeah. That sounded about right. No actual skills. Not an engineer or developer or even a business manager. Just an idiot with a trust fund throwing money at whatever looked cool.

“Well, Tomas. Do you know why they call that big exam full of all that gibberish you hate the bar exam?” The weasel just raised his eyebrows. “It’s because once you pass it, then you are an attorney. And allowed to cross past this BAR.” Cassian pushed Tomas back out the little half door again. “Which separates the civilians in the gallery from the lawyers making their cases. So maybe learn how to show a little respect.” Cassian scoffed, flicking his eyes to Nesta, “In a few different areas of your life.”

“What the fuck, bro?” Tomas rolled his eyes. “This is why I fucking hate going to your lawyer parties and shit. Jackasses like this.”

“Tomas, please.” Nesta placed a hand on his chest, Cassian tensed, and that seemed to calm Tomas down. Not Nesta’s touch, but another man’s jealousy.

“Why don’t you bring the car around. I have to work out a court date for another matter with Cassian but I’ll be right out.”

“Yeah, ok.” Tomas glared, keeping eye contact with Cassian as he kissed Nesta’s cheek, hand travelling too far down her back. “Hurry though.”

“Of course.” Nesta smiled that same tiny little smile that made her look like a doll on a shelf and Cassian wanted to scream.

“What the fuck are you doing with a piece of shit like that?” Cassian minced no words as he turned to face Nesta.

“Excuse me?”

“Pretty straight forward question, Nes.”

“You… you don’t know him. He’s not like that once you get to know him.”

“Sure he’s not,” Cassian scoffed.

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that your boyfriend, who I’ve never heard of or seen before today despite knowing you for years, had a chance to see you in court. Had a chance to watch you all fired up and passionate and brilliant and instead he walked in late, stared at your ass instead of listening to what you were saying, and then shoved his way up here and pulled at you to leave like you were some kind of toy he didn’t mind tearing the arm off of.”

Nesta blinked. Huffed out a breath. “We’ve been on again off again for a while. That’s why you haven’t seen him before. And he just doesn’t like lawyer stuff that’s why he’s like that in here ok? Not that it’s any of your business.”

“So you’re dating someone who not only doesn’t recognize how brilliant you are but won’t even let you talk about your job?” That was wrong. That was so wrong. That was… why Nesta was so intense with him. Why she debated and fought and talked for hours. Because she couldnt do it at home.

“Why do you even care, Cassian? Let’s just set a date and-”

“Fuck you, Nesta.” Her jaw fell open. “Fuck you for even asking me that. You know why I care. You can’t play dumb with me like I assume you do with him.”

“You don’t know anything about my relationship!” Nesta defended a little too vehemently.

“I know you can’t yell at him about his take on immigration laws,” Cassian stepped closer to her. “I know you can’t get a little tipsy off your favorite Malbec and go on a rambling tirade about the corrupt judiciary and your twenty three- or twenty five depending on the night- reasons why voting for judges completely undermines the integrity of the legal system.”

The was almost no space between them as Cassian looked down, gently set his hand under Nesta’s chin and raised her gaze to meet his. Burning with anger and passion and barely concealed desire. “I know that he didn’t understand why you were crying when RBG died. Because he doesn’t care about how appointing Supreme Court judges works or what that meant for the future of the court. And because I know that you weren’t with him that night. You were with me. Just like election night in 2016. And the Kavanaugh trials. And when the travel ban came into effect. You found me. Because I get it, and I care about your thoughts on all of those things. I’m devastated by them too. You were with me, Nes. And don’t you dare pretend that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does,” Nesta let her cheek sink into his palm. “It means everything Cassian, but…”

“But we fight,” he smiled. “We bicker and yell and cross ideologies and disagree on all the little things. But not the big things, Nes. Never on the big things. We disagree on how to change the world, not what we want to change in it. Isn’t that what matters?”

Nesta swallowed. “I can’t risk losing you.” She said quietly. “I need you. For all of those reasons, I need you to be in my life and if we… I hurt the people I love, Cassian. So if I let myself love you, I would only hurt you. And I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.”

“So you date him.” Realization was an arrow sailing into Cassian’s chest. “Because you won’t hurt him. Because you could never actually love him.”

Nesta swallowed. “See? See how awful I am?”

Cassian moved his hand to her back, pulled her into his chest. “Go,” he whispered. “Go do whatever you need to do. I’ll be here. And I’ll be waiting for you to realize that I’m not going anywhere. That I can take it. Whatever you want to throw at me, I can take it, Nes.”

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #acosf #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar

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newstfionline · 3 years

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Sunday, December 6, 2020

Biden officially secures enough electors to become president (AP) California certified its presidential election Friday and appointed 55 electors pledged to vote for Democrat Joe Biden, officially handing him the Electoral College majority needed to win the White House. Secretary of State Alex Padilla’s formal approval of Biden’s win in the state brought his tally of pledged electors so far to 279, according to a tally by The Associated Press. That’s just over the 270 threshold for victory. Although it’s been apparent for weeks that Biden won the presidential election, his accrual of more than 270 electors is the first step toward the White House, said Edward B. Foley, a law professor at Ohio State University. “It is a legal milestone and the first milestone that has that status,” Foley said. “Everything prior to that was premised on what we call projections.” The electors named Friday will meet Dec. 14, along with counterparts in each state, to formally vote for the next president. Most states have laws binding their electors to the winner of the popular vote in their state, measures that were upheld by a Supreme Court decision this year. There have been no suggestions that any of Biden’s pledged electors would contemplate not voting for him.

Further Slowdown in Job Creation Sets Off Economic Alarms (NYT) The American job engine has slowed significantly, stranding millions who have yet to find work after being idled by the pandemic, and offering fresh evidence that the recovery is faltering. The Labor Department reported Friday that employers added 245,000 jobs in November, fewer than half the number created in October. The pace of hiring has now diminished for five straight months. While many of those knocked out of a job early in the pandemic have been rehired, there are roughly 10 million fewer jobs than there were in February. Many of the unemployed are weeks away from losing benefits that have sustained them, with emergency assistance approved by Congress last spring set to expire at the end of the year. The latest sign of economic headwinds arrived as members of Congress struggled to reach agreement on a new aid package. A bipartisan group of legislators has put forward a $900 billion proposal, and the House speaker, Nancy Pelosi, said the disappointing jobs report should add momentum to negotiations.

Southern California, San Joaquin Valley under restrictions (AP) Faced with a dire shortage of hospital beds, health officials announced Saturday the vast region of Southern California and a large swath of the Central Valley will be placed under a sweeping new lockdown in an urgent attempt to slow the rapid rise of coronavirus cases. he new measures will take effect Sunday evening and remain in place for at least three weeks, meaning the lockdown will cover the Christmas holiday. Much of the state is on the brink of the same restrictions. Some counties have opted to impose them even before the mandate kicks in, including five San Francisco Bay Area counties where the measures also take effect starting Sunday. With a new lockdown looming, many rushed out to supermarkets Saturday and lined up outside salons to squeeze in a haircut before the orders kicked in. The measures bar all on-site restaurant dining and close hair and nail salons, movie theaters and many other businesses, as well as museums and playgrounds. It says people may not congregate with anyone outside their household and must always wear masks when they go outside.

Honduras president seeks assistance, warns of increased migration in wake of devastating hurricanes (Washington Post) Weeks after Hurricanes Eta and Iota struck Central America in quick succession, nearly 100,000 Hondurans are living in shelters, many of which have become coronavirus hotspots. The country’s economy has been paralyzed. It is an unprecedented crisis, Honduran President, Juan Orlando Hernández said in an interview with The Washington Post on Friday. Hernández warned that in the absence of a coordinated international response, migration from Honduras to the United States could surge. “Imagine someone who lost everything, his house, his source of income, who feels hopeless and believes that there’s nothing left for him,” Hernández said. “And then he has a relative (in the United States) who says: ‘Come here.’ “ On Friday, Honduras filed a request with the Trump administration for temporary protected status (TPS) for Honduran citizens who are already in the United States. Guatemala, which was also affected by the two hurricanes, filed its own request last month. The Trump administration has tried to end existing TPS programs, which protect migrants from deportation while their countries manage crises.

The coronavirus has come roaring back into Brazil (Washington Post) RIO DE JANEIRO—For weeks, it has seemed that the pandemic was on the way out. The beaches, bars and restaurants had filled. The message: Rio de Janeiro was back. Now the city—and much of Brazil—is grappling with the sudden realization that the coronavirus has suddenly roared back. In Rio de Janeiro, where the virus has already killed tens of thousands, upturned the economy and sent rates of homelessness soaring, moments that recall the darkest days of the pandemic are once more appearing in the news. Sick people, unable to get help in the medical system, are again being found dead at home. Lines stretching into the hundreds are forming for intensive care beds. Hospital officials are warning of supply shortages and an imminent collapse in medical services. Even the vaunted private heath-care system reached 98 percent capacity in its intensive care units this past week, officials said. In states across the country, the situation wasn’t much better. Public health officials are increasingly worried.

Black Man Is Beaten on Camera, Thrusting French Police Into Spotlight (NYT) Without the video, Michel Zecler believes his case would have been reduced, at most, to a brief news item. Maybe something like this: “A young man, Black, wearing a sweatshirt and a hood, a shoulder bag, assaulted police officers, attempted to seize their weapons,” Mr. Zecler said in an interview on Thursday. “If I didn’t have my cameras, I’d be in prison today,” he added, referring to the security cameras in the vestibule of the building where he keeps his music studio. The footage from those cameras, showing police officers gratuitously beating Mr. Zecler, 41, a producer well known in the world of French rap, has instead helped fuel a political crisis in France and once again turned a spotlight on the issue of police brutality, especially against the country’s minority citizens. Mr. Zecler became the focus of a national uproar that has forced President Emmanuel Macron’s government to scrap and rewrite part of a security bill that would have restricted the filming of police. Critics say a provision in the security bill was aimed at snuffing out precisely the kinds of cellphone videos of the police roughing up demonstrators that have brought them under intense new scrutiny.

Swiss slopes buzz as those of neighbors sit idle in pandemic (AP) Two weeks after beating COVID-19, Thierry Salamin huffs as his ski boots crunch through Swiss snow near the Matterhorn peak, readying for a downhill run with his mood as bright as his blue and fluorescent yellow ski getup and the sun overhead. The 31-year-old real estate agent from the southwestern Swiss region of Wallis can’t believe he is skiing during a pandemic, let alone one that he personally endured—and which has driven a wedge between his country and its Alpine neighbors over where people can ski, and where they can’t. While the coronavirus resurgence has led Austria, France, and Italy to shut or severely restrict access to their ski stations this holiday season, Switzerland has kept its slopes open—a move that has fanned grumbling about an unlevel playing field when it comes to Alpine fun. The Swiss say they’re taking reasonable action to fight the coronavirus. Authorities require masks in ski lifts and queues, and recommend hand hygiene and physical distancing measures.

Diplomacy was the real loser (Christian Science Monitor) This autumn’s intense six-week war between Armenia and Azerbaijan offers a stark lesson in the costs of diplomatic failure: An unresolved territorial dispute suddenly erupted in violence that took thousands of lives and left a vastly changed landscape in its wake. Azerbaijan won the war with arms and advice from Turkey, dramatically reversing Armenia’s decisive victory a quarter century ago that had been frozen in place since 1994. The nub of the conflict is the Armenian-populated exclave of Nagorno-Karabakh, a Soviet-era autonomous region inside Azerbaijan that declared independence in 1988 as the USSR began to crumble. In the long and bloody war that ensued, Armenian forces not only secured the region, they occupied a huge swath of additional territory and expelled around 800,000 ethnic Azeris from it. The new armistice, which Russia imposed last month, restores all of those illegally seized lands to Azerbaijan and inserts 2,000 Russian peacekeeping troops into the area to enforce the deal. This dramatic outcome has triggered mass jubilation in Azerbaijan, plunged Armenia into a storm of national anguish, and left international diplomacy licking its wounds. The cease-fire lines brokered by Moscow almost exactly follow the diplomatic settlement that the international community had advocated for almost 30 years, but they were achieved by force of arms. The Minsk Group, comprising the United States, France, and Russia, which had been charged with resolving the conflict, proved irrelevant as the crisis climaxed; it was two regional powers, Russia and Turkey, that brought the warring parties to heel.

Trump restricts U.S. visas for Chinese Communist Party members and families (Washington Post) The State Department imposed tighter visa regulations for Chinese Communist Party members Thursday in a move that puts limits on U.S. travel for tens of millions of Chinese working in government and other prominent roles—and further stokes tensions with Beijing ahead of the Biden administration. The new rules would affect members of China’s ruling party, who number around 92 million, and their close relatives. The impact could be sweeping in a country where party members dominate the upper echelons not only in government but also in business, media, academia and other areas. The restrictions would limit visas for party members and their relatives to a single entry, with the visa duration lasting one month. Previously, Chinese nationals were eligible to apply for tourism or business visas, for instance, that are valid for 10 years and for unlimited entries. The new rules for party members could be disruptive for trade, academic and cultural exchanges between the two countries and the personal lives of the elite. Communist Party membership is not explicitly required but is often a de facto requisite for career advancement to top positions in China from the government to most major industries and academia. Many rank-and-file corporate employees and low-level civil servants are also dues-paying members.

Trump orders most American troops to leave Somalia (AP) The Pentagon said Friday it is pulling most U.S. troops out of Somalia on President Donald Trump’s orders, continuing a post-election push by Trump to shrink U.S. involvement in counterterrorism missions abroad. Without providing details, the Pentagon said in a short statement that “a majority” of U.S. troops and assets in Somalia will be withdrawn in early 2021. There are currently about 700 troops in that Horn of Africa nation, training and advising local forces in an extended fight against the extremist group al-Shabab, an affiliate of al-Qaida. Trump recently ordered troop drawdowns in Afghanistan and Iraq, and he was expected to withdraw some or all troops from Somalia. Gen. Mark Milley, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, had said on Wednesday that the future structure of the U.S. military presence in Somalia was still in debate.

Ethiopia’s war in Tigray shows no signs of abating, despite government’s victory claims (Washington Post) Clashes continued across Ethiopia’s Tigray region and humanitarian aid remained paused at its border Friday, despite government claims that military operations had ceased and pledges to allow U.N. agencies access to hundreds of thousands of people who rely on them for food. Diplomats, aid workers and analysts said in interviews that the war in Tigray, Ethiopia’s northernmost region, was far from over even with government troops in effective control of the region’s main city, Mekele. The fighting has shifted to Tigray’s many craggy mountain ranges—difficult terrain where TPLF leaders and militia hold the advantage of familiarity and have been able to regroup. The TPLF’s leadership remains largely intact despite abandoning Mekele last week. On Thursday, in a message aired on a regional television network, one prominent leader called on supporters to “rise and deploy to battle in tens of thousands.”

#headlines #news

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malecsecretsanta · 6 years

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Merry Christmas, @averymagnificentmalec!

Of Lattes and Lawyers

Magnus hated mornings. Despised them. They were entirely unnecessary and frankly far too early, and he was utterly befuddled by the fact that it was, apparently, compulsory for human beings to be awake and living before ten o'clock in the morning. It was just uncivilised.

The morning of December the first, however, was already starting to look up—even if it had yet to reach half past eight.

Morning had brought with it a soft, shimmering blanket of snow across New York City. Magnus and glanced out of his window and felt excitement settle in his heart, bright and gleaming. It was December, and it was snowing, and Christmas was fast approaching.

The smell of gingerbread and the thick smell of hot chocolate wafting towards him the moment he'd stepped inside the coffee shop he kindly donated his mornings to (if only so he could extend the time he had available to antagonise his friends, and to help pay for his extortionate college fees) had only served to further elevate his mood.

Which, for seven o'clock in the morning, was no mean feat.

There was also, Magnus noticed, upon glancing up from making a cappuccino for a lovely old lady called Edith who loved him for his explanation three weeks about about what exactly all these funny drinks are, because I really just want a coffee, a very, very cute boy walking through the door.

The bells - an added feature for Christmas, rather than a permanent fixture - tinkled as he pushed the door open with long fingers, breath fogging in the cold winter air. A flurry of snow drifted in behind him, landing on the clean mock-wood flooring and settling in his hair.

Magnus allowed his eyes to travel upwards - subtly, because he had class, thank you very much - to take in the rest of the man. He was a little alarmed by just how far up his eyes had to roam. Was it really necessary to be that tall? Was his baby milk supplemented with steroids?

Those long fingers reached up to brush through messy dark hair, dislodging the snowflakes as they melted in the bubbling warmth of the shop. Large hazel eyes flickered up, bypassing Magnus - although he was, admittedly, somewhat concealed behind the machines - to read the menu hanging overhead.

"If I could reach him, I'd be all gooey-eyed too," Edith said from where she was sitting on a stool by the end of the counter, waiting for Magnus to finish her drink. She tapped her walking stick lightly against the floor in emphasis. "But I don't think I could get past his waist."

Magnus snapped a lid onto her drink and passed it over. "Nice pair of heels?"

"Gah, you charmer," she said, rolling her eyes but grinning. "I haven't trusted myself in heels since I was seventy."

"What was that?" Magnus asked. "Seventeen? Me neither. Although I do have a very nice collection of boots."

Edith shook her head at him. "You'll go far in life, being nice to us old folk. Thank you for the coffee, sausage."

Magnus' smile didn't disappear as he watched her go, passing by Mr Too Tall on her way to the door. Mr Too Tall blinked, and darted back to pull the door open for her so she didn't have to negotiation a coffee, her walking stick, and the door.

"You're welcome," he heard Mr Too Tall say as Raphael, two years younger than him and still surviving high school while Magnus annoyed him incessantly just for fun, passed him another order.

This guy was just unnecessary. Stupidly tall, stupidly attractive, and stupidly lovely?

Unnecessary.

Ragnor Fell, Magnus' oldest friend who had somewhat reluctantly agreed to employ him at age seventeen, and who had, Magnus was determined to think, never regretted that decision for a moment, sidled up behind him and said, "You are not subtle."

"Ragnor, when have I ever seen subtle? I don't know what that word means. It's not a concept in my world."

"We both know that's bullshit," Ragnor said, snorting. "Make the damn coffee, or I'll fire you."

Magnus grinned at him and blew him a kiss as he walked off out back, muttering about the insolence of teenagers under his breath. Clearly, Magnus thought, he was talking about Raphael—because Magnus was not a teenager anymore.

He called out for a black americano as he shoved on a lid, expecting to see a sharp suited businessman or a hipster who thought the only acceptable form of beverage was black coffee.

He did not expect to see Mr Too Tall standing by the counter, the full force of those large, bright hazel eyes trained directly on him. A small smile crossed the man's lips as he nodded once, extending a hand to relieve Magnus of the drink.

"Thanks," he said, and, god, since when were New York accents so lovely? Magnus thought that voice could probably melt chocolate.

Fuck that. That voice sounded like melted chocolate itself.

"You're welcome," Magnus said, returning the man's smile twofold, bright and confident as he always was. "Sugar by the door, if you want any."

"Got it," Mr Too Tall said, and flashed Magnus another smile before he turned and headed towards the door, coffee in hand.

As he turned to make his next drink, he let his eyes flicker up over the top of the machine to watch the man stir half a packet of sugar into his americano, push the lid back on with long, dexterous fingers, and haul open the heavy door with ease as he stepped back out into the cold, sans hat, gloves, or scarf.

The man was clearly insane, Magnus thought, as he continued working. Although, he was so pale he looked like he could be made of snow—maybe it didn't bother him.

He was also devastatingly attractive, and Magnus had a weakness for cute people.

Magnus really, really hoped that The Downworld Café had just gained another regular.

***

"Isabelle, for the last time, I do not need a date to go to your stupid Christmas party!"

Across the kitchen - his kitchen, thank you very much, which his sister was currently invading - Isabelle Lightwood narrowed her eyes at her brother and folded her arms across her chest, slowly enough that the emphasis on the movement made Alec regret his words instantly.

"I will give you one chance to retract that statement, before I tell you that your punishment is that I will dress you for my party."

Alec groaned. "Isabelle, come on. I'm sorry. Your party isn't going to be stupid, and I'm happy to go. But I don't need a date."

"Everyone needs a date," she said briskly. "I don't care who you take. Take Lydia for all I care."

"I'm gay."

She rolled her eyes, and said with the kind of patience of a person talking to a five year old, "Yes, Alec, I know. You're allowed to have a platonic date."

"Then Jace is my date."

"No," she said, "Jace is Simon's date. Come on. Be reasonable. You can't poach Simon's boyfriend. I'm going with Clary, obviously, and Max isn't coming because he isn't interested, so you need a date who's not one of us. Take a uni friend."

Alec huffed at her. He didn't want to take a goddamn university friend. Honestly, he wasn't overly thrilled about going to Isabelle's party at all. But he was, because it was Christmas, and she was his sister, and he loved her.

Deep, deep down, where she couldn't be this infuriating.

"I'm not taking Lydia. Everyone will think we're dating, and that sounds absolutely horrible."

Isabelle smirked. "I'll tell her you said that."

"Go ahead. She'll agree with me. I don't want to be a heterosexual and she doesn't want to be dating the male version of herself. She'll be called a narcissist."

"Look, Alec." Isabelle spread her hands wide. "You need a date to this party. It's non-negotiable. I have the perfect blackmail material, so this is the best opportunity I'm going to get all year to get your love life spinning again."

Alec's eyes closed, a groan falling from between his lips. Of course. He should have known that Isabelle was trying to get him to start dating again, after the utter fucking disaster of the last guy he'd dated.

"Fine," Alec said. "Fine. I'm going to get a date for your party, and I'm going to spend the night pretending to like them, and then you're not going to mention the word date in the context of me having one or going on one until Thanksgiving. Deal?"

Isabelle smirked. "Deal."

***

Alec was freezing his ass off as he hurried into The Downworld Café early, gym bag in his hand and rucksack thrown over his shoulder. He had an hour until he was supposed to be at work, and he had to be in court at half past eight to argue a case that he knew he was going to lose just by glancing at it.

Nevertheless, he'd spent the last three months solid gathering as much evidence and as many witnesses and experts as he possibly could. He wasn't going to let it go without a fight.

"Could I get a black americano, please?" he asked the woman at the counter, who had a book sitting beside her till open to a page about micro plankton. He thought, fleetingly, of Isabelle.

"Sure," she said, scribbling on the side of a cup while he swiped his credit card over the machine, flashing her a smile in thanks.

He waited by the end of the counter, and took the opportunity to scroll though his emails in an attempt to distract himself from the devastation he was sure to face from his clients later in the morning.

"Black americano," a smooth voice said, and he glanced up, shoving his phone away and—

Crap. It was that guy again. Alec remembered him from the last Tim heed been in the café—he'd thought he was gorgeous then, and he doesn't appear to have undergone some drastic downgrade since.

"Thank you," he said, mildly impressed with himself for managing to speak without stuttering. His eighteen year old self might have fainted.

The guy flashed him a smile as Alec took the cup. "No problem."

***

Magnus saw Mr Too Tall every fucking day, and it was slowly killing him.

Not only was he gorgeous, enormous, and supremely polite, but he was also more than a little intriguing. He only ever came in at extreme hours, his coffee order was beyond boring, and he clearly worked in an office, judging from his ever-perfect suit, yet he also often came in carrying what was unmistakably a gym bag, and he was nowhere near arrogant enough to be a banker.

And, of course, he never stayed around for long enough for Magnus to entice him into a conversation. Especially not in the mornings, when he was busy with consecutive orders anyway.

"He's a lawyer," Raphael said on a Saturday morning, while Magnus expressed his frustrations.

He made it his mission to know all of their regulars at least by name, and this guy, whoever the hell he was, had come out of nowhere and was evading him at every opportunity. It was beyond frustrating.

"Bullshit he's a lawyer," Magnus said, scoffing as he cleaned off the end of the machine. "Lawyers don't say thank you every single time a server deigns to provide them with their order."

Raphael shrugged. "He's a lawyer."

"And you know this how, exactly?"

"I just do."

Magnus kept his opinions about Raphael's baseless conclusion to himself, and busied himself with his work. He'd find out, somehow.

The opportunity presented itself, somewhat unexpectedly, at eleven o'clock that day.

While Raphael took the opportunity of the lack of customers to revise for his SATs in the back, Magnus wiped down some of the tables, tossing bits of debris and half-empty coffee cups and discarded napkins in the bin. Really, why people couldn't throw away their own damn rubbish was a mystery to him. Ragnor had even put up signs for what could be recycled where. With pictures.

The Christmas bells around the door tinkled softly as the door was pushed open, and the cool air that rushed in made Magnus shiver as he glanced up.

Mr Tall Dark and Handsome walked in, shutting the door behind him and looking towards the counter. Magnus watched him as his eyes roamed over the menus and the pastries and cakes in the display, seeing but not taking anything in.

Summoning the willpower to actually serve this enigma of a man rather than just stare at him dreamily from behind the coffee machine like he usually did, Magnus dropped his cloth down on the table and strode over briskly, stepping behind the counter.

"Hi," he said, smiling at him. "May I help you?"

The man hadn't moved close to the counter, instead standing still a few feet away, but he roamed closer at Magnus' words. "I—" He stared at Magnus, seemingly unable to find what he wanted to say. "Um—"

Normally, Magnus would have considered a pretty boy rendered mute in his presence an enormous compliment—even if it was a frequent enough occurrence not to be a shock. But the look on Tall Dark and Handsome's face just made sympathy shoot through him. He looked like someone had just run over his puppy.

"Are you alright?" Magnus asked him, gently.

The man shrugged. "Yeah."

"Would you like an americano? Black?"

Tall Dark and Handsome didn't appear to think it entirely weird that Magnus knew his coffee order so easily, but neither did he appear to know exactly what he wanted. Magnus couldn't help but wonder whether someone really had just died.

"Why don't you take a seat, and I'll whip you something up, hm?" Magnus suggested, offering him a smile that was a little smaller and a lot more sincere than the bright ones he usually flashed at his customers.

He exhaled. "Thank you."

Magnus set about making a drink, then plucked out one of Ragnor's mice pies, because, frankly, he was certain that they could cheer anyone up at least a little bit.

"Here," he said, setting the coffee and plate down in front of Tall Dark and Handsome. "Eggnog latte and a mince pie."

"Thank you," he said. "How much?"

Magnus deliberated. "How about you tell me your name and let me chat to you?"

The guy blinked. "Pardon?"

Magnus smiled a little. "You're a regular and I don't even know your name. It's unacceptable. I know the name of all our regulars."

"All the morning regulars?" the guy asked, one corner of his lips lifting. "I've never seen you in here in the evenings."

"No," Magnus agreed. "I work mornings before I have university classes. And Saturdays."

"I'm Alec," the guy said, prying off the lid of his coffee to blow across the top. He looked down at it suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. His eyes widened. "And that is weirdly nice."

Magnus smirked. "Never had one before?"

"Only from Starbucks. Disappointing."

"I'm Magnus," Magnus said. "Although I'm sure you know that, as you appear to be capable of reading."

A faint hint of pink stained the tops of Alec's cheeks. Fascinating. "Yeah. I- Yeah."

"So." Magnus sat down in the chair across from him, and folded his fingers together. "Bad day?"

Alec groaned. "Terrible day."

"Hm. So, let me guess. You work somewhere fancy, probably some high-end, professional sort of job, but nothing fashionable, because that suit toes the line between smart and totally inept at dressing rather beautifully."

Alec didn't appear to be offended, one corner of his lips lifting up. "I'm a lawyer."

"Damnit," Magnus said, darting his eyes to the door leading out back where Raphael was. "That means Raphael was right. How disappointing."

Alec lips turned up. "Do you gossip about all your customers?"

"No. Only the cute ones."

Magnus winked, and Alec choked on his next sip of coffee.

"So, you're a lawyer," Magnus said. "Lose a case?"

"Not yet, but I will have done by the end of the day," Alec said, shaking his head. "It was a precarious case anyway, but I thought I had it. I was wrong."

"Are you sure?" Magnus asked, tapping lightly at the table. "There's no point giving up before you've got the judge banging a gavel, surely?"

Alec shrugged. "Maybe. It's just so frustrating, because I know my client deserves a win. It should be so simple."

"I think you're selling yourself short. The facts of a case don't change. If you had it before, why not anymore?"

"I can't discuss the details," Alec said. "Attorney-client privilege. But it's a messy case. Things keep popping up."

"Well." Magnus smiled. "I'm sure you're capable of securing justice. But if things don't go your way, feel free to pop by for another coffee. We're open until late."

"I know." Alec glanced up. "How long are you here for?"

"Until four," Magnus told him, and glanced back as he heard the unhappy sound of the door opening. He stood. "You'll have to excuse me. Enjoy your mince pie, Alec."

***

At half past nine that evening, Alec Lightwood stepped into the Downworld Café, the satisfaction of a job well done and justice served sitting contentedly in his chest, and ordered an eggnog latte.

Ragnor - according to his name tag - frowned, but didn't comment. Alec wondered momentarily whether he was so predictable that everyone in the place knew what he usually ordered.

Alec thanked the woman making the coffees, and smiled to himself.

He liked this place.

***

"I wanted to say thank you."

Magnus raised his eyebrows, looking to the side at the voice as he was busy making coffee for the morning's rush of busy city commuters. A smile flitted across his face when he saw Alec standing by the counter with his arms folded across the top, eyes bright.

"I haven't made your coffee yet, darling," Magnus said teasingly as he finished a cappuccino for a woman talking rapidly on her phone.

"No. For your pep talk. I was always told that confidence is half of the job. And I was lacking it. I don't think I'd have won that case if I hadn't– if you hadn't given me a bit more determination."

"You're welcome," Magnus said, catching Alec's eye as his smile widened a little. "I'm glad it went well."

"Yeah. Hey, I was wondering—"

"Alright, alright." A stout businessman wearing a scowl that could have rivalled Raphael's best interrupted Alec before he could finish voicing his thoughts. "Enough flirting, I want my damn coffee."

Magnus rolled his eyes. "It's coming up, sir."

"Well, it's not coming up fast enough. You're here to provide a service, not stand around and chat."

Magnus gripped the cup tightly to make sure he didn't fling its scalding contents in this asshole's face. He hadn't stopped working while talking to Alec. He hadn't stopped for a second. Which, frankly, was very disappointing, because he would much rather have gazed at Alec's infuriatingly beautiful face while they conversed.

Alas, he was too much the professional. Not that this particular dickhead seemed to be capable of seeing that.

"Honestly," the guy said, to nobody in particular. "What are you people paid for?"

"I think that's enough," Alec said, shaking his head as Magnus finished up the guy's coffee and set it on the counter. "It was my fault."

"No, it wasn't," Magnus said firmly. "You've got your coffee, sir, now please let me do my job and continue making the rest of these orders. If you have a complaint, you'll find my manager at the end. The one with the green highlights in his hair."

The guy glanced over at Ragnor, balked, and turned a deep shade of puce. "You've just lost a customer."

"Have a wonderful day," Magnus said, smiling pleasantly, before rolling his eyes dramatically the moment the guy had turned his back.

All the customers waiting for their coffee, including Alec, snickered.

"What an ass," an older woman said. "Don't worry about him, sugar."

Magnus smiled at her. "I wasn't."

He found himself glancing over at Alec before he turned back to his work, and he could have sworn the way their fingers brushed as he passed him his coffee had been intentional on Alec's part.

***

By the time December made itself well and truly known, with Christmas drawing ever-closer and signs of the upcoming holidays everywhere around the city, Alec found himself looking forward to his morning coffee run far more than—

Well. More than pretty much anything else in his day.

Part of that, of course, was the unfortunate fact that he'd chosen the same profession as his parents, and his father took every opportunity to shit on which cases he chose to take. He liked his job. He didn't like the PR.

Part of that was also because his morning coffee run brought with it an upbeat, smiling dose of Magnus Surname-Still-To-Be-Discovered. Magnus moved like he had music singing through his veins and he dressed like he was aiming to front Vogue.

He was gorgeous. Their minute-long exchanges while Magnus worked a machine and Alec leant against the counter, chattering instead of hazing moodily down at his fine, sent Alec off to work with a lighter heart.

So when Alec stepped through the door of the Downworld Café one Saturday, a week before Christmas, Isabelle's arm hooked through his and snow covering their shoulders, his eyes involuntarily sought out Magnus.

Beside him, Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "Looking for someone?"

Alec glanced over at her. "What? No. You have to try the eggnog latte, they're—"

"Alexander!"

Behind the counter, cloth in hand as he wiped down the top of the glass pastry case, stood Magnus, a smile stretching across his face.

Isabelle's eyes swivelled to stare at him—probably because Alec never let anybody call him that. But when Magnus had asked him, a week ago, whether Alec was short for Alexander, and he'd proceeded to call him by his full name incessantly, Alec hadn't had the heart to tell him not to. Not when it made Magnus' eyes turn bright and his lips curl up every time he did.

"Morning," Alec said, smiling back at him - dare he say it - almost shyly. Alec was not a shy person. Shy hadn't really been a part of his vocabulary since he was a child. Something about Magnus just seemed to bring out his sheepish side.

"What can I get for you?" Magnus asked, dropping the cloth to move behind the till.

It was fairly empty in the shop, with an elderly couple seated in the corner, another barista visible out back, and young mother sitting with her baby. Alec wondered whether Magnus had time to chat. He hadn't been in yesterday, and he was sure his day at work had been less productive because of it.

"Alec," Isabelle said, emphatically, a meaningful grin on her face that made Alec want to curl up and hide in one of the delicious-looking croissants, "tells me I have to try an eggnog latte. Which is interesting, because he never used to like Christmas drinks."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Iz."

Magnus watched the exchange with clear amusement. "Alexander?"

"What was that little espresso thing called?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "It began with m and you kept telling me I was saying it wrong."

"An espresso macchiato," Magnus said, ducking his head a little as he smiled. "Coming up."

Magnus moved over to make their drinks, steaming the milk and flipping a cup over with effortless grace. Alec thought there was probably something wrong with him, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the rings lining Magnus' fingers, catching the light and casting rainbows across the shop.

"So," Magnus said, as he passed Isabelle her drink. "Isabelle?"

Isabelle raised her eyebrows. "I'm impressed."

"I notice things. Is Alexander your boyfriend, husband, or brother?"

Choking on a laugh, Isabelle shook her head, while Alec felt himself recoil in abject horror.

"Brother," Isabelle said, grinning. "He's gay. And I've been getting the vibe that my brother has his eyes on someone else."

Magnus glanced up at that, something odd crossing his face as he glanced between them. "Ah. Well, macchiato for you, darling. Have a wonderful day."

With a final smile, he picked up the cloth he'd discarded to serve them, and went back to cleaning up, leaving Alec with an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Clearly, Magnus had realised exactly what Isabelle was insinuating—and he didn't appear to like it very much.

***

It wasn't a habit of Magnus' to work on Sundays. He hated getting up early, and he felt he needed at least one day in a week in which he had absolutely no obligation to interact with other human beings. The only living creature he needed to see on a Sunday was his cat.

The Sunday following his conversation with Alec and his sister, however, he made the clearly misguided decision to wander down to the Downworld Café to buy himself a latte before he set himself up to spend the afternoon writing a paper due on Tuesday.

He was greeted by warm hazel eyes the moment he reached the door, and a bright smile that made his insides melt.

"Magnus," Alec said, holding the door open for him as Magnus stepped inside, taking with him a mini world wind of snow that melted the moment it hit the floor. "Good morning."

Magnus summoned a somewhat half-hearted smile. "Good morning, darling."

"I won't keep you if you're busy, but is it okay if I wait?" Alec asked, looking inexplicably nervous. "I wanted to ask you something."

Magnus shrugged, and nodded his agreement. What did he have to lose? He had a minor, coffee shop crush, and had been informed by an unsuspecting observer that said coffee shop crush was interested in someone. It was nothing he hadn't experienced before. That didn't mean it didn't sting, just a little.

Coffee in hand, Magnus turned back towards Alec, who was leaning up against the tall bar table by the window with his ankles crossed, looking the epitome of casual. Only his eyes, darting around and glimmering with nerves, betrayed him.

"So," Alec said, as Magnus approached him, curling both hands around the cardboard sleeve of his latte. "As Isabelle split the beans yesterday, I thought I might as well ask. It can't get much more embarrassingly obvious."

Alec let out a throaty chuckle; Magnus stared at him. What on earth was he talking about.

"I beg your pardon?" Magnus asked, feeling distinctly like Alec was aware of something he wasn't.

"Yesterday," Alec said, as though clarifying something. It only made Magnus more confused. "What Isabelle said. I– Well, I know you didn't exactly say anything positive, but I presumed you would have said something if it totally grossed you out, so I thought—"

"Wait." Magnus held up a gloved hand, palm forward, brain beginning to catch up to what else had occurred yesterday—not that it had seemed like a big deal to him at the time. He'd noticed Alec glancing appreciatively at a guy's ass the second day he'd met him. He'd already suspected that Alec held some male-orientated attraction. "Why on earth would I be at all bothered by you being gay? I don't think I could wear my bisexuality any more clearly if I tried."

Alec opened his mouth—

And then promptly closed it again, eyes going blank, jaw slackening. He turned his head slightly to one side in apparent confusion. "What?"

Magnus stared at him. "What? Did I hear your sister wrong? Are you not gay?"

"What– No. I mean yes, I mean–" Alec huffed out a frustrated breath through his nose, and then started again. "No, you didn't hear her wrong. I am gay. I thought that was obvious."

Magnus shrugged. "Fairly. So what are you talking about?"

"The...other thing she said."

"About your interest in someone?"

"No!" Alec laughed a little. "No, about my interest in you!"

It was Magnus' turn to gape like some sort of mutated, oxygen-deprived fish, until, faintly, he managed to get out, "What?"

Alec laughed again, and let go of his coffee with one hand to circle his fingers gently around Magnus' wrist. "I'm trying to ask you out. I thought you knew what Isabelle was insinuating yesterday."

"No," Magnus said, a confused smile starting to spread across his face as he realised what was going on. "No, I thought she was talking about someone else."

"She was talking about you." Alec shook his head, smile smaller on his lips but deeper in his eyes, making them twinkle like lights wound intricately around a Christmas tree, trained right on Magnus, pinning him in place. "She's throwing a Christmas party the weekend before Christmas. I was told I had to bring a plus one. I was aiming for coercing one of my colleagues into going, but I– I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?"

"Hm."

Magnus smiled up at him, pretending to think about it as he sidled closer, stepping into Alexander's space and crossing the boundaries of what was socially acceptable between friendly acquaintances. Not that Alec seemed to mind. At all, judging from the way his eyes dipped down to Magnus' lips and his Adam's apple bobbed, the hand still resting on Magnus' wrist shifting.

"I'll think about it," Magnus said, tilting his head. "And if we can go on a date before next weekend, which is far, far too long to wait, I might say yes."

Alec seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief. An easy, anticipatory sort of smile spread across his face, eyes turning to liquid, and he nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good."

"Fancy going for a walk?" Magnus asked, pulling back and extending a hand.

"That sounds wonderful," Alec said, taking his hand and slotting their fingers together. He looked momentarily hesitant, eyes darting down to Magnus' lips again. Clearly, he wanted to kiss Magnus. Clearly, he also knew that making out in a coffee shop, right then, probably wasn't a very good course of action.

So Magnus went for a compromise. Leaning in close so that their shoulders were pressed together as they slipped out of the door, boots crunching in the snow, he tipped his chin up a little to press a kiss to Alec's cheek.

A delightful red rushed up his neck, and Magnus was certain that it had nothing to do with the abrupt cold. (Although, Alexander's lack of warm clothing did provide excellent options for Christmas. A scarf, perhaps, in the right shade of blue...)

Alec turned his gaze on Magnus, smiling softly, and took a sip of his coffee. "You're a force of nature, Magnus— Fuck." He laughed a little, and it sounded like the warm piano chords and tinkling bells of Christmas songs. "I don't even know your last name."

"Bane," Magnus told him. "Magnus Bane."

"Mine's Lightwood," Alec said, and Magnus grinned.

"I know. It's on your credit card."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Like I said. Force of nature."

"Oh, darling." Magnus smirked up at him, and mirrored Alec as they both indulged in a swig of coffee. "You haven't seen the half of it."

Little did he know, walking through the snowy streets of New York with their fingers tangled lightly together, exchanging jibes and flirtations over Christmas coffees, that the fond eye roll he got in response would become his favourite reply in the world.

Except, of course, the three words spoken in front of the heat of a fire the next year, over hot chocolate and between kisses, fingers caught on Christmas sweaters and feet tucked under thighs, curled together and basking in the warmth of love.

But, right then, he simply delighted in the tentative squeeze of his hand, and the light brushed of coffee-warmed lips against his snow-cooled cheek, making his lips curl up and something warm light up in the pit of his stomach.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

#averymagnificentmalec #malecsanta17 #*fic17 #*gifts17

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usuallyleftnight · 4 years

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On Tuesday, Melissa Zarda was dealing with two things at home in Kansas City, Missouri: the loud barking and mischief of her new foster puppy Winnie, a cattle dog/pitbull mix, while—above the din—relishing the hard-fought, historic victory she had just won in the Supreme Court in the memory of her beloved, deceased brother Donald.His was one of three cases featuring LGBTQ people fired for their sexual orientation or gender identity that SCOTUS yesterday ruled, 6-3, were illegal under the sex discrimination provisions of Title VII of the 1964 Civil Rights Act. The ruling—embracing the cases of gay men Zarda and Gerald Bostock and trans woman Aimee Stephens—has been hailed as one of the most significant in recent years, setting the protection of LGBTQ people from workplace discrimination in legal precedent.The Supreme Court’s Historic LGBTQ Ruling Is Now a Valuable Legal Weapon Against BigotryMelissa took on the case after Donald died in a base jumping accident in Switzerland in October 2014.“Don would be extremely happy and overjoyed by the decision,” Melissa told The Daily Beast. “I can see his face right now, I can see it so well, it’s like he is almost here. His face is absolutely beaming, and he had a smile bigger than any room anyway. He could light up a room. It’s been an amazing journey. I’m so glad he stood up. I’m so glad that Gerald stood up. I’m so glad that Aimee stood up. I’m just so pleased we’re here, talking about this right now.”“On a grander scale this case wasn’t just about Don,” Melissa said. “Don knew that too. I know this will impact millions of people for the good. To have Don’s memory and legacy on the right side of history like that is incredible.”Leading up to the publication of Monday’s decision, “I was nervous and scared,” Melissa said. “When you get used to all this bad news, you think, ‘OK, another one is coming,’ Maybe, when the decision was announced, it made me that much happier because I couldn’t quite believe it.” Her husband, Matt Cathlina, had been more optimistic, reminding Melissa of how positive she had left the Supreme Court the day the case was heard last October. “Our team did so good, they were so skilled,” Melissa said. “I knew we definitely had a chance.”“I woke up knowing it could be that Monday, but didn’t have any idea. I was refreshing the Supreme Court website over and over and not seeing anything. I was getting nervous.” Melissa went for a walk, came back, refreshed it more, and the site crashed, “meaning something big had probably happened.”Melissa wrote to the ACLU legal team, who wrote back that she, Don, the LGBTQ campaigners, had won.“I was overjoyed, my heart was racing, pounding,” Melissa said. “I think I was smiling and crying at the same time. I was doing 10 things at once: texting, crying, smiling, and laughing—it was like a shot of adrenalin. What’s happening with the country is so tragic and awful, we needed this shot of good news desperately right now.”She shared the news with Bill Moore, Don’s surviving partner, who teamed up with Melissa in leading the case, with legal backing from the ACLU alongside lawyer Greg Antollino and Pam Karlan of the Stanford Law School Supreme Court Litigation Clinic. Melissa also messaged her and Don’s mother Shirley, sister Kim, Matt, and their extended group of family and supporters. “It’s amazing, there are no words for how happy we are with this decision,” Melissa, a graphic designer, said. “So many LGBTQ friends and family members are so relieved that they will be safe from discrimination in the workplace, especially now when the economy isn’t well and unemployment is so high.”Shirley, Melissa and Don’s mom, didn’t understand “what a huge scale this was” until she saw the many articles about the case and TV news segments. “She is beyond excited,” said Melissa. “She is telling everyone she can. She is a proud mom. She was always an advocate for Don. This was so important to her. It has also brought up a lot of memories and emotion for her. She still struggles with Don’s death and his not being here.”“We have this euphoric happiness, but also a bittersweet sadness that he is not here to enjoy it with us. It’s hard, but also good news at a time when we need good news.”When it came to the ruling, Melissa was “pleased it was 6-3 and not closer. I was pleased that Gorsuch wrote the decision, and that he understood. I disagreed with Alito, saying this was legislating. For me, it couldn’t be clearer that this was the right interpretation of Title VII. It seemed as plain as day.”* * *As The Daily Beast previously reported, Donald Zarda was fired in 2010 from his job as a skydiver with Long Island company Altitude Express after coming out to a customer. The trial court found that Title VII did not cover sexual orientation. The U.S. Court of Appeals for the 2nd Circuit reversed that holding, claiming that sexual orientation discrimination was a subset of sex discrimination. Like the funeral firm that employed Aimee Stephens, Altitude Express took the case to the Supreme Court—and lost. An “incredibly smart” young boy, Donald was always intrigued by airplanes and air travel, Melissa told The Daily Beast last year. Both his mother and father had pilot licenses. As an adult he spent a lot of time skydiving with friends and others who shared his passion. Melissa is scared of heights, and “a huge regret” was that she never jumped with her brother. He was warm, generous, and loving as a brother, and loved sharing his professional passion with others.Donald’s family was immediately supportive after he came out. “It was almost not an event,” said Melissa. He did so in his mid-20s. “I don’t think he was delaying telling us for any other reason than he was busy traveling the world and skydiving. He was not around that much.”He went back to school to get a degree in aviation-related management and administration. “Anything that involved being in the air was all he cared about.”His death had been devastating. “Even years later the emotion tied up with it is still that intense,” Melissa said last year. “He kept our family together. We’re still tight, but he was such a force. It has been a devastating loss, unbelievably hard.”Donald felt strongly that he was a victim of homophobia. “He absolutely was a fighter,” Melissa said. “He could not stand anything unfair. He felt he had been discriminated against, and was immediately prepared to fight. He knew it was wrong, and he was going after it. He wanted to stand up, in case it happened to anyone else.”“Don was devastated when he was fired,” Melissa told The Daily Beast after the SCOTUS decision. “His job and career and skydiving meant the world to him. He was afraid of what would happen after has fired. It was hard to get work elsewhere, and he worried he would be looked at as a troublemaker.”“He was confused and upset. He would call us, and we would console him and do our best to be there for him and support him. I would say this weighed very heavily on him in the last years of his life. Skydiving had been everything to him, and then this case became everything to him.”* * *In the wake of their Supreme Court victory, Melissa does not know yet if the family will pursue the case directly with Altitude Express. “We’ve barely had a chance to get any sleep. It’s good to bask in this victory and how wonderful it is, but if we wanted to focus our energy on what comes next there is so much work that needs to be done in getting the Equality Act passed. It’s sitting in Congress, when people are still being discriminated against in housing, education, health care, and credit. There is still a lot of work to do.”Donald would not have expected the case to go this far, Melissa said. “He would have been very surprised, but happy everything turned out the way it did.”Melissa said she was “ashamed” that before her brother’s experience she was “totally ignorant of the scale of discrimination out there. I couldn’t relate. When Don first called about what had had happened, I said, ‘Well, that’s illegal, duh.’ I had no idea. I said, ‘We know that’s illegal. You need to do something about that.’”Like many people, Melissa thought that surely anti-LGBTQ discrimination was already outlawed. The Supreme Court case highlighted how far the law has fallen behind social and cultural evolution. The stories sent to her by LGBTQ people who had been fired for their sexual orientation and gender identity “opened” Melissa’s eyes further, she said. “I am so grateful for that,” Melissa said. “I can’t pretend to know what they have been through. But I want to listen and be there for them and do what I can to help them. The case has definitely made me see outside of my bubble a little bit. It’s been a good perspective shift, and really heartwarming to get support from so many strangers.”Melissa noted that the vast majority of Americans believe that LGBTQ people should be protected from discrimination, as revealed in a CBS News poll, “so the Supreme Court decision was a long time coming and overdue.”Melissa plans to work on helping make the Equality Act law, as well as volunteering for other causes such as Black Lives Matter and animal rescue.“Too many people out there suffer discrimination,” Melissa said. “This is America, 2020. Nobody should be discriminated against.”Read more at The Daily Beast.Get our top stories in your inbox every day. Sign up now!Daily Beast Membership: Beast Inside goes deeper on the stories that matter to you. Learn more.

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