#allie's stupid blog

[livingwiththeinternet]

Francesco Levy, The Constellations of Summer

[scene-royaltylolz]

Just remembered my mom made me a fruity pebble b-day cake 4 my 13th b-day wen I came out 2 her TT 3 TT (I luv her sm lolz)

[apollos-olives]

I’m Native American. Obviously I do not condone any form of genocide. I have lived though it and so has my family by the very government we are talking about right now. The options right now seem to be candidates that “commit genocide or commit worse genocide” and yeah I’ll pick the first candidate while rallying for it all to stop. (And trust me I am rallying for it all to stop, both for my people and for yours.) You can hate me, but letting trump win will be far worse for Palestine than voting for Biden. People acting like the options are “vote for genocide or don’t” aren’t considering that one less vote for Biden is a vote for trump in this incredibly fucked fascist voting system, and Trump will commit Genocide on a far larger scale for both Indigenous people in America and in Palestine.

fucking kill yourself oh my god

[labyrynth]

this not just in: jgy antis are Fucking Stupid

[mysterycitrus]

have you shared your thoughts on the slade and dick relationship anywhere on your blog? i've seen you mention the handling of that relationship as an issue you have with the devin grayson run and i'm so interested in seeing your further takes on them as characters and their relationship, especially after reading persephone

i think their relationship is suuuuper interesting but also that popular interpretations of slade forget two crucial details — he’s obsessed with dick grayson to an unhealthy degree, and he’s canonically a child rapist.

first ill elaborate on that last part — the retcon that deathstroke is a badass, sometimes grey morality type guy that people respect tends to ignore his first proper appearance in comics, wherein he was sleeping with fifteen year old tara markov. slades history in comics is inextricably tied to many iterations of the titans. he has always, always been a freak with kids. he should never be framed as anything but that. none of that suave, menacing dude thanks. adeline should’ve taken both his eyes.

wrt dick i think they’re interesting because slades thought process goes — i just got defeated by a kid in a stupid costume -> that kid in the stupid costume defeated me, meaning he has to be something special. slade is a very proud person with a lot of faith in his own abilities, so dick grayson must be truly exceptional to have outmanoeuvred him. slade imo works best as a nightwing villain (rather than a batman or ga villain) because that egotism is crucial to slade’s character. dick grayson is exceptional, and slade takes pride in both defeating him and briefly allying with him. like i said in persephone: it’s all about power. slade will do anything to get the upper hand.

where shit gets lost in the sauce is devin graysons explicit coding of their relationship as romantic which. i won’t elaborate on. but ignoring everything else whack about it i think it flattens their relationship. slade is all about control and doing anything to achieve his goals. dick is a significant obstacle to that. slade hates dick, but in a twisted way he also respects him, because dick having to fight slade is a positive reflection of slades own abilities (in slades eyes). slade killed 100k people in dicks name. dick mourned both slades sons and taught his daughter. the power that comes with trying to smother that kind of light would be intoxicating to someone like deathstroke. there’s a lot to chew on there.

anyway tldr the person slade hates most in the world is roy harper

[padfootagain]

Black Dog Neighbour

Hi everyone ! Today, we’re answering a request made for my 6k followers event by @nobodyshomearchive : “hi hello lovely xxi have been hooked to your blog lately, and to say that is an understatement in all honesty. congratulations on 6k followers <33 so for your celebration can i get an enemies to lovers (ouh massive surprise 👀) with sirius black (preferably post azkaban but it's okay if you don't want to!) cause i'm literally so head over heels for that man. and i'm loving your something good series :) again, congrats and feel free to ignore the request if you don't feel like writing it/it doesn't hit your creative spot.

have a great day/night hun <;3”

Thank you so much for your request, and I hope you like this! I didn’t do post-azkaban Sirius, because he doesn’t exist in my brain. I have been in denial for so long, the Potters are living their best lives, didn’t you know?!

Anyway, still went for post-Hogwarts and post-war Sirius, simply didn’t include anything referencing to Azkaban or… anything canon compliant, to be fair. But as per usual for me when it comes to this character…

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Warnings: A small warning for an ex being an arse and showing up drunk on your doorstep (there’s nothing violent, but you do physically push him away, so heads up on that, just in case). But the rest’s cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute!!!

Summary: God, you hate that guy next door. Bloody annoying neighbour with his noisy motorcycle, his loud friends, his annoying laugh, his charming smile, his amazing hair, his effortless way to sport sexy leather jackets. He’s insufferable, you hate him to bits. The fact that he’s a talented wizard who can magically change into a dog to guard your door when your ex comes bothering you again will not change your first impression in the slightest, by the way. You still hate him to guts. Probably…

Word count: 4592

Sirius Black Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Sirius fucking Black.

Your neighbour, aka worst enemy, aka the person you despise the most on earth.

He is loud. He is annoyingly pretty. He is getting on your fucking nerves... again!

Of course, it is Friday night, which means that his stupid friends are over for a “boys’ night”. What a scam…

In consequence, you are currently casting sound-proofing spells all over your walls in an attempt to shush their idiotic laughs. And especially Sirius’s; his unmistakable bark-like laughter, loud and boisterous and absolutely prone to draw a grin from your face even if you don’t mean to. By Agrippa’s hat, you will soon either cut his throat or call for an auror. Or maybe you could burst into his apartment and shout into his face just so he can see how bloody annoying that is. Or kissing him to shut him up sounds like a plan, too…

You shake your head, grinning at your own genius idea. Sirius and his friends are being rudely loud again, when you have already told them a thousand times – which is to say every Friday for the last six months, since Sirius moved in the apartment next to yours – that the walls in this old building of Diagon Alley are too thin, that you can hear everything going on in Sirius’s apartment despite sound-proofing spells… and that they need to keep it down past 11pm because you have work the next day. The absolute dread of working in retails does not, by any means, spare the Wizards and Witches of this world…

You look through your apartment for the object that would make the most noise. You give a few items a try, but settle for the good old pan and spoon. Ha, what precious allies these two are, never failing you.

You add a little spell to amplify sounds – just for good measure – find some earplugs, and then proceed to bang the shit out of that pan, right by your common wall with Sirius’s apartment.

It goes on for five full minutes before you manage to catch the quietened sound of something against your door…

And sure enough, when you stop and take your earplugs out, someone is banging at your door.

“Y/N!” a voice that you easily recognize shouts. “STOP THIS FUCKING NOISE!”

You open the door wide, and have to bend to the side to avoid Sirius’s fist as it misses the door.

“Merlin! Sorry! You’re okay? I didn’t touch you, right?” Sirius asks with anger instantly replaced with worry.

“I have amazing reflexes.”

And anger is back into his dark grey eyes again...

“What the fuck are you doing in there?! Are you mental?!”

“I don’t know, Sirius. I didn’t notice anything over the cacophony of your friends shouting into my ears all night!”

His jaw clenches, and you hate yourself for noticing the trembling of the muscle there, and finding it terribly attractive…

“And you had to make all this ruckus instead of simply walking three meters to my door and nicely ask us to shut our mouths because…?”

“Because I’ve asked you dozens of times, this has been going on for fucking months, Sirius!”

He rolls his eyes, and Merlin do you want to punch him straight across the jaw… his very sharp, very pretty jaw…

“We’re just having a nice evening…”

“And I am trying to sleep!”

“It’s barely midnight!”

“I work tomorrow, you asshole!”

“Ermm… guys?”

“WHAT?!” you both exclaim, turning to face a shy-looking Remus.

“Sorry about the noise, Y/N. We’ll be more careful next time. We’ll leave for the evening.”

“You don’t have to leave…” Sirius complains, but James is already walking out, helping a drunk Peter to cross the corridor.

“It’s late, anyway. Lily’s gonna worry, I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago,” James argues, and Sirius has to yield.

“Alright, see you on Sunday, then!” he shoots his friends a grin, and the group waves at you.

You rudely ignore them, crossing your arms before your chest. And as Sirius turns back to you, his frown is icy and he quickly matches your stance.

“You’re such a pain in my ass, Y/N…”

“And you’re a jerk.”

“Asshole.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“You’re one to talk!”

“Oh, you talk plenty enough for both of us. And loudly so!”

Before he can reply, you’ve stepped back into your apartment and slammed the door.

You hear him pestering after you for a moment, then nothing, and finally a door slamming.

Well, that went well…

You are in trouble.

Big… huge trouble.

Your ex has just stepped into your shop, and you don’t know how to react.

You didn’t break up in a horrendous way, on the contrary! He wanted the two of you to remain friends, and you simply didn’t, worried that you wouldn’t be able to get over each other if you stayed in touch. And by the look he gave you as he stepped inside your shop ten minutes ago, and the many glances he’s thrown at you since, you’re pretty sure that you were right about this.

It's not like your relationship was terrible, by any means. Josh was nice, reliable, but also… not for you. You didn’t have much in common, at the end of the day, and if his personality and looks were nice, it was hard to build a lasting relationship on… nothing. It was for the best that you called it quits.

And as if your day needed any darkening, Sirius Black chooses this very moment to step into your shop. You don’t wait for him to aim for the counter to take out a large pouch in which you have gathered all the ingredients for his friend’s monthly brew. He smiles at the sight, moves towards you. And you hate yourself for the leap your heart makes as he comes closer.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi.”

It’s the first time you speak to each other since the ‘spoon and pan incident’, and you both hesitate. How are you supposed to act now? Apologise for being petty and kind of a dick? Ask for his apology for being a dick? Act like nothing happened?

“Thanks for Remus’s stuff,” Sirius says, voice quieter than usual, gentle, asking for a truce.

Outside, it’s snowing, winter claiming the streets of London, and there are little snowflakes caught in Sirius’s hair. It looks lovely.

All of a sudden, you’re longing for some eggnog, and some pumpkin pie.

His fingers are cold when they meet yours, tips brushing over your knuckles as he picks up the bag, and you hate your own heart for stammering.

“No problem. You know the drill,” you tentatively smile, while Sirius hands you some silvery Sickles.

“I would also need pearl dust, please. Here’s the amount.”

He hands you a parchment with quantities written on it, four small packages to be prepared separately.

“How many hearts do you intend to break with so many love potions?” you joke, turning around to get to work.

The brass scale is set on a small table, pushed right against the wall, behind the counter. It is an easy task for a professional like you, measuring quickly while Sirius laughs.

“No one, thankfully,” he replied.

“Oh… some Amortentia, perhaps? Trying to figure out who your crush likes?”

“No… nothing like that. It’s the properties for invisibility that I’m looking for.”

“If you plan on breaking into Gringotts, I don’t want to know.”

Again, a loud laugh. And you wish you could hold back your smile, but you can’t, the sound is too infectious for that.

You’ve forgotten that your ex is here, you’re reminded of his presence only when you turn back towards Sirius and he’s standing right behind your tall neighbour, a bag of potion ingredients in his hands.

You avert your eyes, and Sirius frowns at the sight. He glances over his shoulder, spots your ex, but says nothing. You only notice how he tightens his hold on the pouch.

“Pearl dust’s quite expensive,” you tell him, handing him the phials, before announcing the price.

“That’s alright.”

He hands you the galleons, takes the vials, but doesn’t step away just yet.

“You… you’re okay?” he asks, and you’re not sure what to do with his expression. It’s somewhere between annoyance and genuine concern.

“Yeah, sure.”

He nods, like he’s disappointed. He’s not bringing up The Incident, and so you won’t either.

“Right, good day.”

He turns in a hurry, not waiting for your answer, but you notice the way he throws a look back before stepping out into the street, snow falling over his dark coat and dark hair again. You hate how your eyes linger on his frame until he’s out of sight, walking down the busy street, but you can’t help it…

“Hello, Y/N.”

You’re brought back to Earth as your ex speaks, and you turn to him, your smile turning from genuine to polite.

“Hi, Josh.”

“How are you?”

“Good! Do you need anything else?” you ask, pointing at the ingredients he’s put on the counter.

“Huh… no, nothing else.”

“That makes two Galleons, 5 Sickles and 3 Knuts, please.”

He hands you some money, and you hand him his change. You see him hesitating, before diving.

“Look, I… I came here hoping to see you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about what happened, and… Look, I know I could have done better when it came to us. And I thought… perhaps… if you were willing to give me another chance…”

“Josh…”

“Just… hear me out...”

“No. I’m sorry, but no. We… we were not compatible, that’s all. I like you, you’re nice, but… It won’t work between us.”

Slowly, he nodded, apparently defeated. And when another client cleared their throat behind him, he finally left.

What a mess of a morning…

It is Friday night, and the Marauders are keeping it down. You are surprised by it, but you can only praise these men for being, for once, well-behaved. 11:30, as you slip under the covers, ready for some well-deserved rest before waking up too early to open the shop in the morning. You are ready to fall into Morpheus’s arms and abandon yourself to slumber when someone knocks on your door.

You ignore the sound for a while, but it starts again, and again…

And you thought Sirius was making some efforts. You were ready to commit murder…

You stand up, grab a bathrobe and walk to the door, ready to throw hands with Sirius at this point. Only… only, when you actually open the door, it’s not Sirius who’s facing your wrath.

It’s Josh.

“What… What are you doing here?” you ask, too stunned to think about being polite. “It’s almost midnight.”

But then he looks up at you, and you notice at once that he’s been drinking. His eyes are glimmering, he sways slightly before finding back his balance…

“Josh…”

“Y/N, I… I know that now is not the time, but… please, give me another chance. Please…”

“Josh, we’ve talked about this. Us… it’s over. We’re not getting back together. I’m sorry.”

“But I can try and be better. I’ll be better, let me show you.”

You push him off when he staggers forward, trying to hold you.

“Josh! Stop it!” you raise your voice, trying to get him to let go.

“Please…”

“I said no! Get off!”

He’s finally letting go, but doesn’t take a step back. Instead, he leans against your doorframe, not stepping inside, but making it impossible for you to simply go back in and close the door.

“Josh! Go away! I’m sorry, but this is over between us. You have to leave me alone!”

“But I don’t want to! Y/N!”

“Hey!”

You’re both distracted by the new voice that comes shouting through the corridor. Sirius is standing before his front door, wearing a Queen t-shirt and some dark sweatpants, in what you guess his is nightly outfit. Still, when he comes nearer, hair tied in a bun, glowering, he looks intimidating, tattoos all over his arms on full display, traces of ink peeking above the collar of his t-shirt.

You think for a second that he’s going to make a scene because of how noisy you are right now, not ironic at all given his habits of messing your sleeping schedule, and you’re ready to get angry at him, because this truly is the last thing you need tonight, when…

“You leave her the fuck alone!”

You’re too stunned to react when Sirius comes to stand right by your side.

“She told you to fuck off, so you fuck off!”

“Who the fuck are you?” Josh replied, words a little slurred.

“Her boyfriend,” Sirius lies, but it works wonders, as Josh becomes suddenly very pale. “Now, you fuck off, or I’ll throw you out of the building.”

“You? With him?” Josh asks as he turns to you, and you feel pity for the pain in his eyes, but you don’t regret leaving him.

“Yeah. He’s my boyfriend. Now, please, Josh… leave me alone.”

But he shakes his head.

“I can’t. I can’t. I still love you…”

Sirius looks at you, but you shake your head.

“You have to leave me alone and move on.”

“No… I… I’ll come back later…”

Sirius notices your worry, it almost looks like fear, and he doesn’t hesitate when he grabs Josh by the collar.

“You listen to me now, dickhead,” Sirius growls, it’s almost animalistic, and you’re frozen by this threatening tone of his. “If you set a foot in this building again, if you go see her at her shop, if you so much as breathe in her direction or step in the street she’s in, I will come for you, and I will make sure you can never bother her again. Do you get that?”

“You’re bluffing.”

Sirius grins, something twisted and terribly dark, and even you shiver when he speaks again, voice low and terrible.

“I fought for the Order during the war. I’m a Black. Trust me, you don’t want to fuck with me.”

Slowly, Josh nods, struggling to swallow.

“So… will you leave her alone?”

Again, Josh nods.

“Good boy. Now get the fuck out of here.”

He’s barely released Josh that he’s sprinting down the stairs, stumbling and catching himself against the wall, before disappearing.

But you don’t see that. You’re staring at Sirius, and seem unable to look away.

“You’re alright?”

You’re startled by the softness Sirius’s voice is now wearing, such a stark contrast with the threatening tone he wore a minute ago.

“Y/N? You’re okay? He didn’t hurt you, right?”

“What? No… no, I’m fine! He just… showed up and I couldn’t get rid of him.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Thank you,” you whisper as he gets closer.

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just… a little shaken, I think.”

Slowly, Sirius nods.

“Hey, no need to worry, okay? I’ll keep an eye out tonight. He won’t bother you again. And if he does, in the coming days or weeks, and I’m not around, then you come and tell me. I’ll give him a good fright, and he’ll leave you alone.”

“Thanks but… why would you do that for me? You hate me.”

Sirius chuckles at that, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying, but I don’t hate you.”

“Oh…”

His touch is infinitely gentle when he rests his hand on your arm.

“You can go back to sleep. Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again tonight. I promise.”

Slowly, you nod, a little too stunned to complain or argue or discuss what has just happened. Instead, you walk back to your apartment, lock the door, and go back to bed, thinking about the way Sirius’s hands looked gentle without his rings…

You’re in a hurry this morning. Your brain has not finished to process everything that has happened last night, but this will have to wait. You must rush to the shop, and you can’t find your bloody wand…

Ha! There! What is it doing under the couch? Never mind, you need to hurry, and you need to hurry now!

Only, when you open the front door, you almost trip onto a large black door sleeping on your threshold. A huge black dog, as a matter of fact.

“What in Merlin’s beard…?!”

His ears perk up at the sound of your voice, and he looks up at you with dark grey eyes that remind you of someone…

But it’s impossible, of course. That must be his dog, though. Since when does Sirius has a dog though?!

The animal slowly stands, a real giant, all dark fur and intimidating growls, until he’s shaken some sleep off its frame, and then he looks up at you, as if expecting a command.

“Hi,” you say, feeling foolish, but finding nothing better to say.

The dog merely comes closer, slowly, ears down in submission, as if he’s worried to scare you away. You hold out your hand, and he hurries to rub his snout into it, licking your fingers.

You giggle at the sensation.

“You look intimidating, but you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

He barks in agreement, and you give him scratches as a reward.

“Who do you belong to, huh? Are you Sirius’s dog?”

The dog merely licks your fingers again.

“You look the part, at least. You fit the motorcycle-and-leather-jackets aesthetic.”

A few scratches more, and you finally remember that you are running late…

“Shoot!”

You lock the door, hurry towards the stairs. But you stop the dog when he tries to follow.

“No, no, no! I’m going to work, you stay here. I’m sure Sirius will be back soon. You stay here.”

The dog blinks, but sits anyway, letting you go.

For the whole trip to the store, you wonder who this dog belongs to, and who would let him sleep outside like this. If he really did belong to Sirius, he would hear about this…

Your day is a weird one.

After arriving almost late, but not quite, you spend your morning being busy and running around the store looking for the right ingredients for various potions and clients. And yet, several times during your shift, you feel someone looking at you.

The first time, it’s Sirius, who’s squinting on the other side of the glass door. He looks away the second your eyes land on him, and you’re almost certain that he blushes, although you didn’t think it to be possible to make Sirius Black blush.

The second time, it’s the black dog again, who remains sitting by the door under the falling snow for about ten minutes before leaving.

The third time, it’s the dog again, you see him being petted by a customer as she walks out of the shop.

But if the dog belongs to Sirius, then you guess that he’s been around several times throughout the day, which seems odd. Also, you want to chastise him for leaving the animal alone in the cold for extended periods of time throughout the day. Is he heartless?!

So, as you go home that night, you leave your coat in your apartment before heading to Sirius’s.

He answers on the second knock.

“Oh! Hi, Y/N!” he grins a welcome at you. “Need anything?”

“Yeah… I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

He merely nods, moving to let you inside.

You’ve been here a couple of times before, but you still appreciate the warm atmosphere of the large space that forms his living room. A huge Gryffindor flag is hung across the wall on the right, while windows let you see falling snow over the roofs of Diagon Alley on the opposite side of the room. A large chimney surrounded by comfortable armchairs and sofas, along with a soft red carpet seem to call for you.

“So? What can I do for you, Y/N?”

You turn to him again while he points at the sofa, silently inviting you to sit, but you remain standing. You cross your arms, and he frowns at the sight.

“Where’s your dog?”

Your tone is sharper now, and his frown only deepens, brows knitted together.

“My what?”

“Your dog. Huge. Black. Looks like he could bite my throat off.”

“I don’t have a dog.”

“Really? He’s been following me around all day. He was on my threshold this morning…”

“…Y/N…” he tries to interrupt you, but you don’t let him.

“No! Listen… Thank you for what you did last night. I was really… Thank you. Josh wouldn’t leave and you were most definitely helpful. But let’s be clear, I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself! I don’t need your protection or anything, got it?”

You wonder why he’s smiling now, but he is all the same.

“Got it. Was just trying to be helpful.”

“You were.”

“Good.”

“Good. But your good action doesn’t mean that I’m going to accept any harm coming to this cute dog of yours!”

“I thought he wanted to bite your throat off.”

“He looked like he could. He was pretty sweet, though.”

“Hmmm…”

“Anyway… what’s wrong with you!? Leaving him outside all night and then in the street while it was snowing!?”

“Y/N, relax. I don’t have a dog, let me explain.”

“Then whose dog is it? Cause we have to find his owner, I’m going to throw hands!”

Sirius laughs, his usual, bark-like laugh, and your puzzled by the sound. It resembles a bark even more than usual.

Sirius heaves a sigh, shakes his head, apparently hesitating, but eventually, he takes a step closer.

“You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this.”

“Why?”

“Because if you do, I might be arrested.”

Your eyes grow round.

Oh dear… the…

“…Potion. The potion! You’ve done something illegal with it!”

Sirius laughs again.

“The pearl dust you mean? It’s just a trick for my godson, for Christmas. How do you think the presents get under the tree without anyone carrying them in? The fellow is a rascal, standing watch all night to catch Santa red-handed. We need to get more and more creative each year. No, don’t worry, it’s nothing like that.”

“Oh… but then… what are you talking about?”

“Do you promise that you won’t tell?”

“Have you killed someone?”

“Of course not!”

“I don’t know, you were pretty… scary last night.”

“Did I scare you?”

“No… but Josh was ready to faint.”

He laughs again at that.

“I haven’t harmed anyone.”

“Okay… then, I promise.”

Sirius hesitates some more, before warning you not to freak out. You don’t have time to question him though, he’s already transforming into…

“… the black dog!”

You gasp at the sight, but you don’t back away when Sirius approaches under his animagus form. Instead, you reach out for him, giving him a few scratches between his ears, making him wiggle his tail happily.

“Oh wow… you’re an animagus! This is beautiful…”

He laughs as he changes back into human, the sound still somewhere close to a growl.

“Am I a good boy, then?” he teases, making you laugh. “No need to call for the animal welfare…”

“But… what were you doing around the shop today? And last night? Did you sleep on the porch?”

Sirius averts his eyes, and you have to double-check, but you’re certain that he is blushing right now.

“Ha, that… I didn’t mean to look like a creep or anything. But I… I was worried your ex would come back. Just wanted to check on you, ‘s all. I didn’t follow you around or anything! I just… went to check that you were alright at the shop a few times.”

“Why?”

He looks up at you with a slight frown, as if it is obvious, as if you’re stupid for not guessing.

“Because… I was worried about you.”

“About me?”

“Is it so surprising?”

“You hate me.”

“Again, I don’t hate you. You’re simply annoying the shit out of me. I like it, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

You blink, trying to make sense of all this, and Sirius looks at you with amusement.

“Is that why you were quiet last night? To not bother me?”

“Oh, the boys weren’t here. Busy week. We’ll be back at being insufferable next Friday.”

You roll your eyes at that, but Sirius laughs.

“I’m joking! I understand, okay? We’re too loud. We’ll keep it down from now on.”

“Right, okay…”

He bit his lip, ran a hand through his hair, in what you guess is shyness. God, you would have never thought to use this adjective to describe him. His rings catch the warm light of the fire burning in the hearth as he moves his fingers through his hair.

“Look, I… I’m sorry for the other night. Actually… for all the other nights. We’ll be more careful next time,” he says, and you raise an eyebrow in surprise.

You never thought you would hear an apology from him, even less so an earnest one, and yet…

“Thank you, Sirius. I’m sorry, too. It was petty and uncalled for.”

“No, you… you were right.”

He heaves a frustrated sigh, runs a hand through his long dark curls again, rebel strands falling before his eyes. You hold tightly onto the sleeve of your hoodie, refraining the sudden urge to push the curls away from his face, brush them behind his ear…

“Look, I… I don’t want us to be on bad terms,” Sirius goes on. “Could I make up for being a dickhead by buying you some fancy Christmas drink? My treat. As a token of good faith and a sign for peace in our building?”

He offers you his open palm, and you shake hands with a smile adorning both of your faces.

“Deal.”

“Any afternoon free this week?”

“Wednesday?”

“Then, I’ll buy you the fanciest cocoa I can find. And even some pumpkin pie, if you’re nice.”

“Sounds good.”

You’re reluctant to pull away but have to let go of his hand.

“Actually… scratch that,” Sirius shakes his head. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Your eyes grow round.

“A date? With you?”

“Yeah. On Wednesday?”

“But… with you?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You really think I play bodyguard for just anybody?”

You laugh at that, you can’t help it, even if you’re still quite stunned by the whole situation.

You weight your options, but then you look at him again, and the answer you want to give is obvious, even if he gets on your nerves all the bloody time…

“Okay. A date. On Wednesday.”

He grins, bright and infectious.

“Great! Awesome!”

“Great.”

“Great.”

You remain staring at each other for a moment, both of you trying to hide your excitement, until you finally clear your throat.

“I should…” you begin, pointing at the door.

“Sure… busy day?”

“You can’t imagine.”

“Hmm…”

You hurry towards the door, feeling overwhelmed by his nearness.

“See you on Wednesday then!” he calls after you as you reach for your own door.

“Sure! But it better be the best hot chocolate I’ve drunk, or I’ll ask for a refund!”

He laughs, and when you turn one last time towards him, Sirius is leaning against his doorframe, staring at you with a grin on his lips and mischief painted all over his features. He winks, and your heart skips several beats.

“Oh, don’t worry. You won’t regret this.”

*********************************

Taglist :

@reg-arcturus-black @hells-escapees @omgrachwrites

@wolfmoonmusic

[sparklecarehospital]

been reflecting on my year a bit, and i was thinking about something. i think i know what the best thing i did for myself this year was.

making cometcare public. making the ask blog.

ive had this AU stirring in my brain since 2019, ever since i got really attached to doomi during the haunted arc. one reason i went so long without revealing pollarrydoomi as a ship to readers was because doom's crush wasn't public information until late 2021.

i had kept his crush a mystery for 3 years, but revealed it after a fun experience where people figured out who it was through guessing. i'm pretty sure i did a poll about it? asking people to guess who they thought it was, and uni won the vote, meaning everyone had already figured it out.

after pollarrydoomi was revealed and i started drawing art for it and people made fanart for it, i still couldn't post any of my AU art because ally wasn't public and she and howie were in the AU. in july 2022, for the comic's birthday, i revealed ally as a character to the readers. others around the time had started to notice characters i had in pfps and i ended up telling everyone i did have pollarrydoomi ship kids, but i didn't make them public.

in november 2022, i revealed eve on toyhouse. after her reveal, i would soon reveal sly as well in december 2022 on my birthday (revealing sly as a birthday present to myself is such a funny gesture now that you guys know how important he is to me). over the next few weeks i revealed cream, frosty, and marco as well. all of the main cometkids except chem.

then one day someone out there suggested that i make an ask blog for the cometcare AU. it was such a spontaneous decision, and i didn't even really know what i was gonna do with it at first. i was just kinda messing around. but when i made the blog i realized that if i wanted this AU to be experienced in complete authenticity, i couldn't make uni cis.

so i revealed uni being trans through the blog, despite the fact i'd gone so many years without ever revealing her identity. why did i do it? there's a lot of reasons. not wanting to make her a "dad" in the AU contributed, but also i felt like it wouldn't be detrimental to the story to confirm a character being trans. it also made me (and the crew in general) a lot more comfortable being able to properly refer to uni with her actual pronouns.

making the ask blog really changed me, because finally i could share this little family and comfort story i'd built in my brain with the world and make it real and make content for it and let people consume it.

but what stopped me most of all?

i've said it many times before... but i felt like it was cringey.

i felt like making an AU with 93985893844 fankids in a ridiculous complicated polycule wasn't something a Serious content creator should do, and i was really worried the reception would be negative or people would think it was stupid or something. i did NOT expect it to become as popular as it is. the blog actually has more followers than the MAIN ASK BLOG for the canon comic. it was received SO POSITIVELY and the fact it was just kind of blows me away.

it means so much to me. being able to share the most special thing in my life with people and for people to actually like it and have fun with me and want to see it, and for me to be able to not have to follow strict professionalism about spoilers and chronological storytelling, and being able to change and add in things whenever i felt like it. it's such a freeing experience.

when i was a kid, i used to make stories and OCs and i didn't take them as seriously as i do the sparklecare reboot. this kind of turned into my entire life and career kinda, so i had to take it more seriously. but making this AU honestly just makes me feel like i'm a kid again, it makes me feel like i can have fun and literally do whatever the fuck i want without worrying what people think or if it's realistic or if it makes any sense.

i know though, that some people don't like pollarrydoomi. and i know why. whether it's because of being attached to barruni (of course, they're the canon ship and main characters, i get it) or just having discomfort with the idea of shipping doom with anyone when canonically he hasn't experienced a redemption arc... i get it. i know not everyone likes it.

and that's okay! people are entitled to having their own feelings about content. i understand it. and i've come to accept that's always going to be the case with anything i do with these characters.

but i'm still going to do this for myself. i do this because it makes me happy to just have fun and not worry about being serious all the time. it feels good, especially when it's with characters that are really really important to me.

cometcare is genuinely the most special and important thing i've ever made for myself, it's such a huge piece of my identity and it makes me who i am. and being able to make this story public and share it with people and share these things that have been in my brain for so long with others means so much to me.

that's why i think it was the best thing i've done this year. it's kind of literally changed my life to be able to talk about them. it's made me happier than i've ever been making content. i'm not just making it to entertain myself alone anymore, i'm making it to entertain others like i do with other stuff. and the fact people actually like it still is unbelievable to me.

so, i guess my outlook for next year as it comes is to continue to stop taking everything so seriously. i can tell my stories however i want to. i hope others can realize they can do this too.

please make whatever you want, whenever you what, as much as you want, even if it doesn't make sense or if it's "cringe". you will be so much happier when you realize as a creator you DON'T have to take all of this so seriously. the comic still exists and people read it even if i'm doing this. You Can Do Whatever You Want And Nobody Can Ever Stop You. the only person who can stop you is yourself when you let your inhibitions get in the way of your ability to create things for yourself.

have fun! life is too short to take everything you do seriously

[screamingfromuz]

Can you finally forget about ever being allies with the racist and fascist leftist progressives?

It’s obvious they just hate you as Jews and will support anyone who goes against you.

You should’ve listened to Ben Shapiro’s wisdom.

First of all, I'm a fucking leftist so watch you mouth!

Second do you think the right is any fucking better? the only difference is that the right usually don't hide behind pretty words when they say they want us dead.

Ben Shapiro is not wise, he is a little angry toy Jew for the American right, and the fact that right now he is not spewing complete fucking nonsense does not means I'm gonna align myself to that fucker without him rewriting his political beliefs. Not to mention he still spews bullshit!

He is literally the American Extreme right pet Jew! And I take anything a "pet minority" say with a grain of fucking salt! no matter from where on the political they are presented!

If two of my enemies are my enemies, they are still both my enemies! I am going to yell at the leftist for being terrible and hypocrites, just like I'm gonna yell at the right for being terrible and hypocrites. In this blog we do not discriminate and treat all stupidity equally. I am yelling at the global left because they are just higher on my shit list right now.

P.S

"pet minority" is any person from a minority that a bunch of bigots prop up to say "look! even ____ agree with us", when we know they are bigots and don't give a fuck about the minority in question, or wish harm on the minority group in question.

[sea-lanterns]

Hello, I recently sent you an ask about Ningguang lately, only to find out that you blocked me. Why is that ? Did I say something wrong ? My username was sneepywhoopy

TW: Mentions of transphobia, serious post

Saying this now, I was not obligated to respond to this, but I feel as if you deserve to know why I blocked you for your posts. I usually just block people and keep them blocked while ignoring them, but if you are willing to hear out why I blocked you for your posts, here’s why:

Honestly, your preference to not sleep with trans women is fine. Thats your personal preference as long as you don’t be rude about it, I understand that much.

But I quickly sifted through your recent posts and saw you reblogged stuff like how lesbians can’t be attracted to trans women and that they had to be bi if they were attracted to trans women. First of all, that’s invalidating trans women even though you claim yourself to be an ally. Reducing them to just the sex they were assigned to is not what being a trans ally is, and it honestly made me super uncomfortable to see someone on my blog who thinks that way, when this blog is a sapphic community for all women!

You can be a part of the LGBTQ+ community and transphobic at the same time, being lesbian, gay, bi, etc. does not give you a free pass to exclude trans people in the community. You don’t want to sleep with/are not attracted to trans women? Fine. That’s your personal preference. But to reblog stuff that say all lesbians are not attracted to trans women is invalidating not only trans women, but the identity of lesbians themselves.

Lesbians can be attracted to trans women because they are women. Simple as that. Straight men can also be attracted to trans women because they are women. Simple as that. I’m sorry if you don’t agree with my opinions, especially since I am not a lesbian myself (I am pan). But honestly? A trans woman is just a woman to me and I see no difference when I find myself attracted to them.

I’m sorry that you don’t feel the same way but this is how I feel concerning the situation. I don’t want someone in my aquarium who invalidates the gender of my fishies via the excuse of same sex attraction, because I honestly think it’s stupid to reduce someone to just their sex when the whole point of being attracted to someone is liking them for who they are, not for who they used to be.

If you like women only and are attracted to trans women, that is 100% valid. Who am I to tell you what your sexuality is? Your sexuality is yours to confirm.

This is why I blocked you. Those posts you reblogged made me super uncomfortable and irritated me, so I hope you understand why I don’t tolerate this kind of mindset in my aquarium.

[homunculus-argument]

Tumblr tip!

All of Tumblr is a PVP enabled zone! This means that anyone is open for combat, and this cannot be opted out of. Anyone who disagrees with you can and will try to come fight you in the comments. If you seek a combat free Tumblr experience, keep in mind that DNI lists are an user-established custom which functions entirely on an honour system, and you cannot always trust your enemies to have honour!

Instead, use the block button whenever you encounter people whose existence you would rather never hear of again. But for the best results for hostile encounters, gather allies and surround your blog with like-minded peers, so whenever a hostile comes into your blog post's notes to say some stupid shit, your allied mutuals are already available and present to roast them, and everyone has more fun getting to see them getting shred to shit.

Have fun out there!

[livingwiththeinternet]

Domenico Fiasella, Bacchus and Ariadne 

[atopvisenyashill]

why do you think jonsa is happening tho? jonerys is different bc they are going to be enemies, but i don’t see what jonsa does for the story

so let me first lay out roughly what i think is going to happen should jonsa become canon. I personally love going down meta and graphic spirals, so I'm including links to other people’s theories/explanations/graphics of events too - also I would like to shout out @istumpysk because half these metas and gifsets were stuff I found on their blog initially, and also was the one who really convinced me that jonsa is less of a crackship and more of a contender for an actual canon theory, and from there i really found my niche in this fandom. specifically this meta about jon being the mummer's dragon is what pulled me out of my "we're never getting twow and if we do it's just gonna be that stupid dany has jon's magical baby while tyrion watches, then they all die theory" slump and lit my brain on fire again. let's goooo:

The Ashford Tourney Theory - Something Shady goes down at the tourney Petyr has planned that requires Sansa to make a quick getaway, and likely causes her to run into Brienne while fleeing. This theory for me is about hinting at Sansa's romantic future, allies, and how she's getting the hell out of the Vale: both the dark haired, Not Targ Looking Targ Prince that is the son of A Great Prince That Never Was being her romantic endgame but also it's about Brienne (/Dunk) getting her the hell out of there and becoming Sansa's number one ally and protector (with Sansa's number two being Bronze Yohn!! But he's not fleeing with her - if he helps her get out of the Vale, it'll be to cause a distraction or a fight so Sansa can slip away unnoticed. Bronze Yohn is coming with the knights of the Vale later to help defend his girl!).

The Girl In Grey - Out of options on where to go, Sansa & Brienne makes a long, fast, and dangerous trek to the only family she knows is still alive: Jon Snow at the Wall. No, I don't think Alys Karstark is the girl in grey on a dying horse; I think she's a red herring, the same as the scene where Sweetrobin destroys the snow castle, and that the real girl in grey (who slays the savage giant) is Sansa. Melisandre says that she sees "Jon's sister" but doesn't specify more than that, or how she knows it's Jon's sister, even - why would she assume Alys is Jon's sister and not some random Northern girl? Why was she so sure that it was his sister? It's because Alys isn't the girl in grey, it's Sansa, her horse dying because she's traveled halfway across the continent with Brienne and Pod, desperately trying to keep ahead of the dozens of people hunting her down.

The Blood of Winterfell - Sansa and Jon will reclaim winterfell together. This one is similar to above; just like Alys was a red herring, the scene where Sansa rebuilds the castle has a lot of foreshadowing (imo) but that isn't the moment in the prophecy Arya hears. The Savage Giant is Littlefinger, the castle of snow is Winterfell, and Sansa is going to liberate her home alongside Jon and what's left of the Northern lords.

Stone and Snow Remains - THIS is where Sansa and Jon will fall in love while fighting for the North. This is also the part where you lose a lot of people, because they think the evidence is real weak sauce but like, I also think the Jonerys "evidence" is weak af too (and no wonder, we have at minimum 2k pages left to get through!!). There's several believed foreshadowing points to this one, bare with me for this weird ass formatting because I can't do sub bullet points on tumblr:

1. Sansa's linking of snow with love and affection - "drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover’s kisses, and melted on her cheeks...She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams." along with her snow maiden and snow knight.

2. Bael the Bard and the Rose of Winterfell - the chapter where Sansa gets her period for the first time, Cersei refers to it as “flowering” a dozen times, linking being a maiden (a young girl, not quite of age or just barely of age) to flowers and several people refer to sex as ~plucking. Also notice the one who stole her from KL is Lord BAELish.

3. Aemon the Dragonknight & Queen Naerys - Sansa compares herself to Naerys, Joffrey to Aegon, and wishes for an Aemon, among the many similarities between her life and Naerys'. Jon not only calls himself Aemon, he has a deep connection with a different Aemon Targaryen. And if you’re thinking “Sansa isn’t Naerys, X is Naerys” I would remind you that Sansa as a character existed first, George purposefully had her compare herself to Naerys, and parallels don't belong to just one character.

4. Jenny of Oldstones and The Prince of Dragonflies - there's honestly a lot of parallels between them but like the Aemon/Naerys parallel, the Jenny/Duncan one stands out to me.

5. Janos Slynt - I mean. Iconic. This was the scene that made me first think about what their relationship could be in the future and there’s a reason Jonsas fixate on it. It’s about Sansa being desperate for a hero and the hero she dreamed about being Jon the whole time. 6. Societal Alienation - There's the bastard parallels here, the "it would be so sweet to see him again", the "Winterfell belongs to my sister, Sansa." It's about how Jon, through circumstances of his birth, finds himself alienated from the rest of society and reconnects with his prim and proper sister Sansa, who finds herself alienated from the rest of society as well but for vastly different reasons.

Robb’s Will - Howland is going to show up in the North, along with Maege and Galbert, with some WILD news about why Jon can’t rule Winterfell. There’s a lot of contention around this. Bran probably shows up around this time too, and Arya gets to the Riverlands to discover Lady Stoneheart and give her the gift of mercy. This is where all the inheritance stuff is going to happen and I have no idea how it's going to go down besides it's going to be messy as all fuck.

The Pact Of Ice And Fire - Jon & Sansa get secret married bc they’re in love, not siblings, & jon is the only man she trusts not to steal her claim. This isn't the only possible foreshadowing instance of a marriage either - some believe the Sandor/Sansa scene during the Battle of the Blackwater is foreshadowing as well (personally I feel that's a bit of a stretch but I wanted to include it anyway).

Jon As An Envoy - I talked about this in my "what's Jon's ending" a little but I believe Jon will act as an envoy for either Sansa or Bran to Aegon VI, essentially playing out a similar story that he does in the show with Daenerys. By which I mean, Jon is not the King because the ruler themselves do not go as an envoy, that’s stupid and dangerous, but he goes as an ambassador for Sansa or Bran, to treat with a new claimant to the Iron Throne that is gaining support - Aegon VI & Jon Connington. They will probably clash, Jon will probably have yet another identity crisis, there had BETTER be gay incest subtext, then Aegon dies, and Jon has his sixth quarter life crisis in a row.

“King” of the Gift - again, something I touched on in my Jon meta is that I think he’s going to have a hand in resettling the Gift. Personally, I think it's likely that Jon leaves to protect the claims of his siblings (see: Duncan and Jenny) and goes to the Gift to help resettle it to keep out of the way. This ending is typically referred to as the "bael the bard" ending but i like to think of it as the "brandon's gift" ending instead - though he is not physically with his family, Jon feels fulfilled having confirmed his family loves him through reclaiming Winterfell and marrying Sansa, being reunited with Arya, and being given the Gift by Bran. Sansa claims her children were fathered by a wolf.

So…what does all this do for the story?

Well, in my opinion, several things.

I think the main barrier here is that most people in the greater fandom describe Sansa's story as ~growing past childish wants~ and Jon's as ~rejecting love~ and I do not agree with either of those takes even a little bit. This is where (imo) the dividing line between Jonsas and the rest of the fandom is. I don’t think the answer to Sansa’s question “will anyone ever marry me for love” is going to be “nah" - that's not just a sad story to me (wanting to be married isn't childish! craving intimacy and understanding isn't childish! it's also not wrong for a child to be childish!), I think the idea that Sansa (or Jon) will not find another love just doesn't line up with how George approaches his story. Who Sansa's husband will be has been such a big question, and her story is so heavy into the more romantic tropes like courtly love and chivalry and the line between politics and love and identity, that the question of Sansa's hand in marriage will be plot relevant. I also think it's kinda naive of people to pretend like George isn't very interested in the sexual dynamics of the characters he writes about (yeah, sure, no woman needs a man but "needing a man" is not what this is about. look at everything this man wrote in F&B and tell me he is going to write a female character that longs for sex and desire and doesn't get it!).

After AGOT, nearly every time Sansa thinks about marriage involves her longing for love but believing she will never get it because a man will only ever love her for her claim. Giving her a man - like Jon - who not only will not steal her claim and in fact has defended it twice over already, who will love her for who she is and not what she can give him, is a really important aspect of her story in my opinion.

As for Jon, I am even more firmly against the opinion that his story is about rejecting love; Jon’s story is about wanting to be a good man, to measure up to his father ~despite~ his bastard blood. When Aemon asks if Ned would choose honor over love and Jon stubbornly says yes, Jon is wrong and it’s important to not forget that. Ned has never once in his entire life chosen honor over love; he chooses his daughter’s life over his honor, he chooses his sister & her son’s life over honor, he chooses Arya & Nymeria over honor, and on and on!!! Ned chooses love at almost turn but none of his children know that just yet - look at Robb choosing Jeyne’s honor over his own and how upset he is at the idea that Ned would be disappointed despite the fact that Ned would have understand Robb’s decision! Jon's whole arc is tied up in realizing that it is not wrong or dirty to feel and choose love, passion, and desire and if he never has another romantic arc again, I think you lose the second part of that lesson which is "you are responsible for how you act when you feel love but that doesn't mean that simply choosing love makes you a bad person."

There's also the fact that George has talked a lot about "who lives, who dies, who gets married" and yet we have not one marriage at the end of the show AND there's not a lot of guesses at what "who gets married" means besides Jon/erys (and even if Jonsa doesn't happen, I simply do not see Jon/erys happening. they are not similar enough, they will not be in the same space for long enough, and they are on wildlly different trajectories for their story, they are not getting married let alone having sex). I think Jonsa fits that bill very well.

These various theories - from Sansa being queen, Jon living in exile, The Ashford Tourney Theory, the secret marriage, every one of them - are ideas and themes that I have really been thinking about for about 12 years now. I think Jon and Sansa's relationship could fit with the themes in their stories, the overarching themes in the books, and my own personal opinions. I think it gives George a great opportunity to delve into the courtly love aspects he enjoys so much, as well as delve into inheritance, legacy, legitimacy, honor, incest (yes, that too), and above all, what George himself has said the whole series is about - love. The human heart in conflict with itself is what I think Jon and Sansa as a romantic couple does for the series.

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

okay so a couple of days ago i saw this ask on @fellshish's blog about a need for a full 1941 discorporated aziraphale angst fic, realized i had an entire outline already in the hull, and... this happened:

a "what if crowley didn't miss in 1941" fic, including but not exclusive to the moment itself, the hours leading up to it, and the aftermath; a fanfiction (chapter 3/4)

summary:

It's Fell the Marvelous' awaited debut performance on the West End. He has his marksman, his turnips, and things appear to be going as planned—that is, until said marksman does the one thing he was supposed to avoid. Not missing. (or: the bullet catch goes wrong, and due to a tiny technicality, crowley's afraid aziraphale is gone for good. and crowley himself—for the first time in quite a while—is well and truly alone.)

warnings: full of blood, sweat, kissing while crying, blown up heads, prayers, nostalgic churches, polaroids, alcohol, and aziraphale being a discorporated bastard and bitching his way back to earth while a plot we should probably be focusing occurs as we ignore it entirely. and written extremely slowly. oxymoron but i couldnt get this out of my head fast enough and now you must endure it (should you choose to accept). i think i'm gonna be pretty proud of this though. excited!

(also thank @tforthetea for the inspiration because a conversation with them helped spark this the first time. all hail)

ao3 link for those who didn't check the title, and fic under the cut! :)

chapter 1: number thirteen

One of the things Crowley liked gloating about on occasion was that he was older than Death Itself.

He wasn’t technically wrong, per se. The humans think him mad, and the demons think him stupid, but he was still right. Human concepts, despite their hold on the population and overall importance, were non-existent before or even during the Beginning. The Four Horsemen and other ideas evolved right alongside the humans, so technically, Crowley was older than all of them. He rather liked having something to lord over War (in his head), during the few unfortunate meetings he would have with her. Famine was a non-issue, and Death could not touch him regardless of how much he didn’t like him. There were failsafes.

Now, however, actually being in the room that Aziraphale could potentially walk into and never come out of, Crowley would gladly take all of it back and pretend he never even thought about it at all.

The damned magician. Crowley never caught his name, but if he had, he would wrought him with the most annoyingly small curses that no one would ever believe to be true after today. Tonight wasn’t just about impressing the audience or even repaying that wine-filled debt, it was about them. Tonight, Crowley was to play the trusted stooge, and…shoot the angel. Point blank. In the face. And make it look real. And not discorporate him. And not get them fired. And—

There were a lot of things to consider, alright? To contrary belief, Crowley did, in fact, not think Death was silly or stupid. He’d also been there when It was born, you know. Crowley liked Abel. Watching It happen was, plainly, fucking terrifying. It brought up something new, and change was just as scary as Death. Ask anyone, and they’d tell you.

Crowley has been running that unfortunate meeting involuntarily through his head for the first ten or so minutes of waiting for the actual show to begin, while also listing out the terrible things he would do to the magician man had he ever held the opportunity again. He’d been sort of gunning (no pun intended) to stay backstage and avoid the riffraff, but been ushered out the dressing room the second he’d given his (admittingly harsh) two cents on the situation. Aziraphale said he wanted privacy before the big show, but Crowley knew he was just ticked. Aziraphale was an angel who thrived with a supportive devil over his shoulder.

So, Crowley is just milling around in the crowd as the Allied soldiers and their companions filter in. They come and go—a Lady even comes to check on him at point, mentioning odd vacant gazes and looking over shoulders paranoid-like, but he waves them off before they can pry. He really shouldn’t be so worried—even if Aziraphale…‘didn’t make it through the night’, he’d eventually be fine. As long as he discorporated a certain way, nothing too lethal—some deaths were harder to come back from others.

They’ve been discorporated before, of course. That was how Crowley knew this. Six millennia offered many opportunities for the event. But never, and it was never, at each other's hand. On paper, yeah, they killed each other on occasion, but truly…

Crowley shifts nervously, sending a glare at anyone who got a bit too close, but the brief discomforts aren’t enough to lift his spirits. There was one entity faffing about who refused to bugger off even with direct acknowledgements, though that might be because Crowley was imagining It. Or It really was here, and interested in the affairs of potential angel discorporation. Or a bomb was going to fall here and It was just beating the rush. The theories were far from endless.

Death appeared back there as soon as Crowley had been kicked out. He’s simply been dealing with it since then, and It probably wasn’t helping to lift his spirits. He shouldn’t be so antsy—both logic and mechanics deemed it so.

They’d be fine, Crowley repeats to himself near constantly, finding a proper seat in direct line of sight where Aziraphale will be standing. He readjusts his tie as the humans sit around him, creating a perfectly isolated bubble of red velvet seats. What did it matter that twelve humans died doing this before? They weren’t human. Death had no claim on them. It couldn’t take them even if It so desired.

Crowley scowls at the hooded figure standing near the entrance of the theater, cold scythe gleaming under the warm bulbs of the West End. Its just…standing there. Making no move to come closer, either. Odd.

Crowley sinks lower into his plush seat, as if trying to avoid Death’s gaze. But being one of two immovable objects on this Earth, It’s always on him. If Death had a goal, there would be no point in warding It away.

Seeing Death is a famous bad omen, and would send a chill down his spine had it been anywhere else. At this moment, however, Crowley is simply irritated. If It was looking for another soul in this theater, that was fine by him, let It take them, but It would not be ruining whatever this was. Humans were ever plentiful—there was only one angel deserving of Earth.

Before Crowley can decide whether or not he should be stupid and confront the omen in the room, the lights go dim. The crowd’s murmurs die down, and Crowley has no choice but to stay seated and watch the show. Aziraphale wouldn’t be coming on until the Ladies of Camelot had their first number, but Crowley could easily endure it. The gaze aimed straight at his head could be ignored.

World be damned if It took the angel’s enthusiasm. They’d be fine. Crowley just has to remember that.

-----

Things are, indeed, not going fine.

Crowley is meant to go up on stage any second now. Aziraphale has no inkwell in his gloved hand. No amount of snapping is removing said turnip from line of sight. He reads the pamphlet—then again, then again, then again, but there is no second option for apparently miracleless individuals.

Fucking. Hell.

Whatever false bravado Aziraphale is spewing is null and void compared to the should-be-non-existent nerves running through frantic hands and finding absolutely nothing useful. Crowley flips through the same two pages—give the stooge the bullet, poise, and shoot. The miracle would’ve ensure that the bullet would never leave the barrel. But now—now, well, he really regrets not considering a Plan B. Did they ever consider a Plan B? Apparently not.

Getting there is a blur. Aziraphale is essentially shoving the rifle into Crowley’s care, which is honestly becoming a worse idea by the second. He’s switching between the demon and the audience so quickly that Crowley can’t tell who he’s addressing. They’re deathly quiet, and Crowley would feel embarrassed if his heart that shouldn’t be there wasn’t pounding with too much blood in too little time. His mind is a soup. Muddled, feverish, and incredibly foul tasting. You wouldn’t want to drink it even if you were starving.

“I would ask you,” Aziraphale says loudly, cutting through the fog of utter mental mush, “to take this bullet, and load it into the rifle. Very carefully.”

Crowley nods belatedly, squeezing and turning parts of the gun to get the non-existent warmth running back through his fingers. He takes the bullet, and turns it round a few times while Aziraphale stares at him with excruciating anxiety. Is he stalling? Honestly, even Crowley wouldn’t be able to tell you.

“It's perfectly simple,” Aziraphale mutters softly, pushing the gun a bit closer. “Aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear.”

Crowley can’t find himself to agree here. He’s staring at him, and that would usually get him to listen regardless of shades, but Death is boring into them like the harshest of theater critics. His skin is slick, almost clammy, threatening to let the gun slip and fire a stray bullet anywhere but its intended target. His back is sore, oddly enough. Irritating.

Crowley has questions, like he always does, but the time has long passed. What he wants to ask is ‘do I just squeeze that little bit there?’ pointing at (what looks like) to be the trigger—but then that would just make Crowley look incompetent, so he swallows it back and nodly lightly. He’s never fired a gun like Aziraphale seems to believe whole-heartedly, but he’s certainly watched it happen. He’s picked up enough of the motions to figure it out on his own.

That thought still doesn’t help when he’s being told to insert the bullet, though. Crowley fumbles through it, opening a mislaid hatch or two, but manages before Aziraphale could raise any alarms. He’s already stood back in position (when did that happen?) when Crowley raises the loaded rifle for all to see, proclaiming as such. He bites back the tremor threatening to appear—he wasn’t nervous. Excited, more like it. Excited to finally get an excuse to make a throw at the angel non-suspicious like.

That was all it was. Really.

Crowley turns the rifle one last time as Aziraphale spins more useless pageantry for the audience to woo at. They’re both grinning, but tightly and annoyingly false. It wasn’t the eyes that were the problem—what, do you think that demons ever got stage fright? Absurd!

It was just...well, there weren’t just humans in this audience. Crowley couldn’t forget the shadow looming at the end of the theater no matter how tight he grips the side of the weapon. But, just like Someone had laid out all that Time ago—Death could only perceive them.

It could not touch them.

It would not touch them.

It would not touch him, if he could help it.

The drums begin their incessant titter as Aziraphale finally turns to Crowley properly, blue cloak glimmering under the warm light of the stage before them. “A-are you ready, sir?”

Crowley would scoff at this if he could. Sir. Only humans ever addressed him that way; angels look down on him, demons sneer at him. Though he supposes this angel would be different—always throwing the curveballs, him.

“When you hear my signal,” the angel says, voice growing quieter, “shoot.”

Aziraphale removes his tophat, revealing preciously white curls. This pings something, the remaining traces of damned sense he’s got buried inside. Crowley isn’t sure what has possessed him—but he shakes his head. It’s all he can do. Don’t make me do it, he nearly warns out loud. Not if you know what’s good for you.

Aziraphale stills, but not before mouthing words that would be akin to an ashamed mumble if he were close enough. Trust me.

Trust me.

Satan, he got him there. That’s why Crowley was here, after all. Stooge. 100% Reliable Marksman.

Right.

Aziraphale isn’t nearly as good as Crowley at hiding his anxious gaze. “Ready?”

Oh, Heavens no. He never would be, but no better time than the present. Or something like that. He can’t recall where it came from.

“Aim…”

Crowley can’t ignore it anymore—he’s shaking. Extremely so, at that. It’s knocking around the air in his lungs very unkindly. It’s quite difficult to aim. His head is bobbing around in the scope.

Just about…

There it is.

Crowley waits—just like he’s done for the last…however long. A long time. His arms are starting to hurt, frankly. He rests his finger over the trigger to ease the trembling a tad.

And the magician remains silent.

Crowley ignores the sweat crawling down his neck. (Wasn’t it supposed to be freezing?) He waits some more—it’s not like one can forget where you are. Benefit of the doubt and such.

Nothing still. Nary a nod.

He’s been staring at him for a minute. The crowd hasn’t uttered a peep. Is Crowley just supposed to…do it? Did they talk about this? They must have. They talked about this. They talked about it, right? Yeah. Yeah, they must have—

"Fire!"

He startled him.

The reason why he listens is easy to explain. Aziraphale made Crowley flinch. A bit of a spook, really, not that bad of a fright. A sudden jolt—a tap on the shoulder, one that said ‘oh, look, you’ve got perfect aim already! Shoot!’

And he did.

What’s the first rule of approaching someone with a weapon again?

Right. Don’t fucking scare them.

The handle is warm. Slick, heavy, shaky. The scope aims with guilty target missing at the helm. A puff of smoke is spewing from the barrel. A thump, a sickening thump, deafening in the cricket silence of a post-trick world.

And Aziraphale…is on the floor.

(Where else would he be, really?)

There, obviously. On the floor. With a blown-up head. Bleeding like blessed Heaven. Bleeding like bloody Heaven, while Crowley has to take in the sight and smell the blessed thing.

It fits. They fit. Like a perfect crown on a decapitated head.

God, his head’s just gone, isn’t it?

A noise cuts through the thick silence like a stubbornly determined knife. Far away, above it all, there it rings. It’s muffled, soft, and almost awkward in the way it cuts through the air. A camera click. A reluctant, malicious camera click.

And that was just the perfect way to say it, no? He blew his brains out. Crowley blew his angel’s fucking brains out with a fucking gun that he’s never fucking held before.

Trust me.

Well. That, no doubt, was Aziraphale’s fault—it’d be a funny old world if angels and demons went around trusting one another.

-----

hgh. hope that was decent. chapter two coming as soon as it can because im invested now :))

[jellyluvr]

That's it..

- kai anderson x fem reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

No one asked for this but you're getting it. Also my blog is NOT dying. but I'm still finna feed you guys cuz I luv u. Maybe I just set really high expectations but anyway. This fic is kinda ass ngl. It gets to the point tho 🤭

Tw: oral sex, secrets, kai going beyond your boundaries. PET NAMES!!! age gap too (really depends on how old u r tho)

S: kai finds your diary and he just gives it a read. And eats you out while you read it to him.

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ~ => ₊˚⊹

Kai spoke, talking about some random bullshit you didn't care about. You just cared about how his hand looked... how it'd feel inside you.

I mean, it wasn't your fault his hands were so attractive? It wasn't your fault they were so veiny and big...

Okay, you need to stop. Allie was clearly getting a little irritated by your daydreaming, but thankfully kai hadn't noticed. He was probably focusing on the men as usual, so you took that chance to whisper to Allie.

"What's going on?" You asked quietly, into allies ear.

"Kai's gonna shoot himself or something. Pay attention!" She whispered back, not amused at all. This cult was serious.. very serious. It was really life or death, but you were definitely the stupid one of them. Maybe even the bimbo.

So what? Maybe you liked pink. Maybe you loved men.. but that was a normal thing in a girl. Yeah.. you were old enough to mature.. but you didn't want to mature. You still acted like some stupid little girl. Which you weren't ashamed of. You were the most confident person ever. Besides when it came to boy stuff. Then there was a problem.

Kai. Kai was your problem. He'd be the death of you. You knew it. He was too hot, too fine.. what if his dick looked as good as his hands?? Fuck...

"Y/n repeat what I just said." Kai said sternly at you, staring you down. You looked over to him, your mouth agape.

"Huh?" You laughed slightly, trying to play it off cool. But it wasn't cool. Your stomach burned with desire. Even thinking about kai turned you on. It turned you on so much...

Kai took a deep breath, closing his eyes while he tried to manage his anger. He couldn't really contain it, clearly. He rubbed his face, and continued with his speech to the small group of people in his basement while Allie turned to you.

"Dumbass." She mumbled, watching kai once more. You turned to him, listening to him as he talking about the plan on Tuesday? Yeah. Tuesday. But Tuesday just turned into sex.

What would he look like in a porno? What would he do? Would he act well in it? Would it be rough? You created scenarios in your head, mainly thinking about dick. His dick.

Finally, kai dismissed you all, letting you go upstairs. As everyone chatted, their steps on the wooden floor filling the room you went to your room in kai's house. He had spare rooms, so you took one. But it was just because you wanted to see kai more.

As soon as you got to your room you shut the door, locking it immediately. You sat down on your bed, leaning off it to reach your diary. Or where you basically just made porn.

You flipped to a blank page, your previous writing leaving indents in this paper. You let out a soft sigh, it being hot and full of desire. You closed your eyes, resting your head on your palm as you thought about kai. How he'd look naked, out of the shower, jerking off... anything to get your pussy aching. And eventually it happened, which also got your wrist moving.

You wrote with your pencil, some words beautiful, some words looking ugly. Either way, you wrote your fantasies down, drawing little pictures along side the paragraphs.

Your hand slipped to your panties, just about to go under them before you heard a familiar knock.

"Y/n! Come out here, I need you to go down to the basement for me." Kai's voice followed, which made you spring up off your bed.. which also led to you not closing your diary.

You walked to the door opening it with a smile as Kai stood there, gesturing for you to go. You went down stairs, not really sure what to expect.

Kai stayed in the doorway, looking at your room. His eyes grazed over everything, including the enticing book on your bed. He walked in, staring at the book. He grabbed it, looking at the pictures. The very... explicit drawings.

A smirk grew on his face, tugging at the corners of his mouth as he read through the page you had left off on. It didn't take him long to realize it was about him, and it got him thinking what else you had written. He went to the first page, grazing over the words.

You had gone to the basement again, so you had no idea what was going on. You really didn't care what he did though... plus, your mind went somewhere else as you were made to clean up the basement.

Recently kai had been pretty messy down there, especially with 30 men sleeping down there so you had to douse the room with frebreze.

Once kai had read two pages, he set the book down, walking out before laughing to himself. He thought it was cute. Maybe a little disturbing how detailed you wrote, but he found it adorable.

Just another one of his fangirls. He had quite a big ego, so he wasn't that surprised. He had noticed how nervous you got... how you acted non chalant (or tried to) in serious situations.

You really needed a taste of reality.. a big taste.

So, while you cleaned the crusty basement and moved all the sleeping bags.. Kai set everything into motion. When you'd get up, he'd just confront you about the book. Nothing more, just a little chat.

But that wasn't how it went at all.

Continuing to clean the basement, you finally got bored and stopped, running up the stairs and going to your room. You certainly didn't expect kai to be in there.. reading your diary.

"Hey! That's mine!! What the hell are you doing????!" You shouted, running over and snatching the book from him. He laughed again, staring into your eyes as he had his giggles.

"Why don't you read it then? Since you're such a big girl. Since you think you can talk back to me." His tone changed. He went cold as he stared at you, his dimples disappearing back into his face. You looked down at the book, checking what page he had left on.

The last page. Your last entry... your unfinished paragraph...

You hadn't closed your diary when you went to the basement.. that was why this all happened. Your face turned pale from embarrassment, the heat going to your hands and thighs.

Your palms got clammy as you stood there, rethinking your horrible life choices.

"Well? Would you like me to read it?" He teased, but his tone was still cold. You just looked up, shaking your head no in response.

"You like me.. don't you? All those things you wrote about me in that little book. Why don't we talk about it? Maybe it'll get it out of your system so you don't think like such a slut."

His smile had returned, but on the last sentence it fell. He took the book from your sweaty hands, looking at it once more.

"How about you finish this paragraph and we can get started." He demanded, handing you a pencil. You bit the inside of your cheek while you took it, finishing the sentence.

'With his big veiny hands.' You wrote, your handwriting horrible from how nervous you were.

He looked at it, snickering at what you had wrote. "Really? You can do better than that, princess." He erased it, giving you back the pencil. You leaned on the desk, kai moving behind you as he put his 'big veiny hands' along your shoulders, moving them up and down. He moved his head in the crook of your neck, his hot breath hitting you.

You instantly felt an ache for him, but you began to write regardless.

'With his fat cock.' You wrote over the erased lines, it still looking horrible. He smiled at what you had wrote, his hips moving into yours forcing you to feel his erection.

"That's my girl.." he whispered, his hands moving down to your hips.

"Now read it. Read it all." He said sternly, but still in a low whisper. Your mouth opened, ready to read, but you couldn't. You were too afraid, and it got worse as kai's hands began to knead your hips, gradually going down.

"H-his.. brown eyes, his blue hair, his-" You choked on your words, feeling kai's hand go to your panties, cupping your clothed pussy.

"Don't stop. Continue." He said in a soft tone, his finger going inside your panties.

You choked, clearing your throat before you continued. "His h- hot figure.." you hesitated, trying to avoid the word. This was so humiliating.. so wrong of him to do. But it just got worse.

His finger played with your pussy, making you squeak a little.

His finger tip moved in a up and down motion over your hole, making your legs weak. He teased you while you stuttered, tripping over every word in the paragraph.

You gasped, feeling his finger enter you, making you squirm a bit. His finger moved inside of you, moving your plush walls and hitting every possible spot you wanted.

Your clit ached for attention, and you closed your eyes, giving up on the reading.

"Turn around." His finger slipped out of your wet pussy, instead moving to your waist to turn you. You faced him before he pushed you up onto the desk, flipping your skirt up revealing your panties.

His hands went to the band, pulling them off slowly while he looked up at you. "Read." Your hands shook as you took the diary, reading where you left off the best you could.

"I want him in-" you huffed some air, looking down at kai, being in contact with his blue hair. You felt your panties move to your ankles, and kais hair tickle your thighs as his head moved in between them. His hands moved up to the backs of your thighs, pushing them up as he folded you in half.

You held the book tight, choking down your nervousness and reading the next part. They came aline nicely.

"Inside me.." you said quietly, kais tongue licking into your folds right on time. You whimpered, your thighs trying to close around him, but he held them apart.

His lips closed around your clit, his tongue flicking against you skillfully as you melted under him. You clutched the book, your eyes squinting at the stimulation.

"Mm~" you moaned, biting your lip. Kai continued to assault your clit, his pace quickening.

You looked at the words, all of them becoming bunched up and scrambled. You couldn't make sense of any of it, and you finally came. You moaned a little more, whimpering and such. Kai's tongue moved off of you, his left hand opening up your folds to see your arousal.

"That's it, babygirl. Just like that." He praised, his tongue going back into your pussy, licking up anything you had left. He looked up at you as he swallowed up all of your juices, smiling as he did so.

You moaned more, your legs trying to close again, but kai didn't let you. He snickered through his nose, letting out huffs of hot air on your clit, only making you squirm more. You looked at the book, trying to make sense of any words, but you simply couldn't. Your head went back as you tried to calm down, kais head moving away from your thighs and instead to your lips.

His lips hovered yours before he kissed you. You tasted yourself somewhere in the kiss, but it was mostly breathy and hot. He left a kiss on your cheek, smiling before he let go of your legs, letting you process what just happened.

"Just ask next time. It'll save yourself that bullshit book." He snatched the book from your hands, putting it in his stupidly large pocket before leaving.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

K thats it. Also the diary is a small one. Thats how he fits it in his pocket lol

Taglist: @tatelangdonsgirll @kaismanwich

If u wanna be added just reply on this post!

[vivelareine]

this is a bit of a random question and i apologise if it’s insensitive, you don’t have to answer this!!!

but recently i’ve seen a lot of people call Marie Antoinette racist? at first i thought it was someone just hating her and or, making stuff up but the more i look a lot of people are saying it but i can’t really seem to find anything where it says she IS racist.

so i guess my question is, has she really said anything like that? or is it just rumours about her? am i missing something?

again sorry if this is a bit stupid. you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to but i thought itd be good to ask as i’ve learned a majority of history from your blog. thanks :)

My main guess would be people who watched the "Chevalier" film and thought it was historically accurate. I've seen a few people on various social media implying she was a "fake ally" to Bologne and citing the film's events as facts.

What little we do know about Marie Antoinette in relation to racism is that she:

supported Joseph Bologne; played privately with him and supported him publicly in a massive way in the 1780s, despite the Opera scandal which involved women of the opera using racism to ensure he didn't get the position

did not at least personally choose the normal aristocratic route of putting a trafficked child "gifted" to her into slavery (in all but name) by dressing him up exotically and making him a servant. Instead, the child Amilcar was baptised, she had servants in her household be his godparents, she sent him to school, etc. The revolutionaries, when considering a petition for Amilcar's care after Marie Antoinette's death, even noted that she committed an "unusual act of humanity" that was contrary to what aristocrats usually did.

There were at least some of these enslaved "Exoticized" servants at Versailles, as we see them in 2 portraits of her at the hunt, but it's unclear how many there were, and what Marie Antoinette's involvement with them was. It is possible they were part of the king's household retinue for hunting, or that they were represented in the hunting portraits as a means of "prestige."

We have nothing directly written by Marie Antoinette that suggests she was any more racist than the typical person in her time. We do have some evidence that suggests she was more tolerant than others, in her support of Joseph Bologne and treatment of Amilcar which was considered by revolutionaries to be an unusual act of humanity.

Race in 18th century France is a complicated situation, though. For instance, at the same time that Marie Antoinette is supporting Joseph Bologne, laws are passing under Louis XVI that require black people to register to the government, laws that limit the amount of black people in mainland France, etc. We have no evidence to show either way how Marie Antoinette felt about any of that.

All we have is knowing that she extended her personal kindness and sympathy towards two individuals who were not always treated well, although I say her treatment of Amilcar is more notable given how popular Bologne was among the aristocracy anyway.

[504py]

Wait you said you are a fan fic writer? Can you show us your work?

ooh, i've never published my work anywhere but i like to casually write about the fandoms i'm in. i haven't really written anything romantic (besides that time i wrote headcanons about what leon kennedy would be like in a relationship), but i'd be open to receiving imagine/reaction/headcanon requests if my followers wanted that! anyways, since hetalia is the main thing on my blog right now, here we go!

Axis + Allies Physical Appearance Headcanons

SFW, no content warnings at all.

Italy is handsome but he's so stupid that his stupidity overshadows his looks and people often don't even realize he looks good. He does think he is handsome, and takes great care of himself. I feel like he thinks like this, "Well, being pretty is one of the few things I can do, so I might as well be good at it!"

Japan looks nice! He's very hygienic and always makes sure to take care of his skin. He blushes easily. His hair partially covers his ears on purpose because his ears get red pretty often. He has quite a few moles and a few crooked teeth. His fingertips are rather red.

Germany looks alright but he's so uptight/scary that people just do not want to hit on him. His hands are very calloused. Also one who is very hygienic and takes care of himself a lot. He has quite a bit of body hair, but since it's a very light blond and not very visible, he doesn't bother with it. Nice straight teeth, but his canines are rather prominent.

Russia is cute! I actually think that people do not see his face very often because it's obscured by his scarf, and/or people are too scared to look him straight in the eyes (LOL). Also the issue of looking up to even see his face. He's usually naturally blushing even if just a little bit. Also his ears are kinda big. Gets bashful if you compliment the man himself, because he doesn't think of himself as particularly attractive, and will instead divert the conversation to, "A-Ah yes, Russia has many beautiful sights and landscapes!"

China is pretty!! He has wild eyebrows and lots of sun spots, freckles, and moles. He has a bad habit of leaving his lips dry though, LOL. Takes a lot of pride in being attractive. He is VERY good at doing makeup.

America doesn't care about his appearance much other than his hair, but he just tends to naturally look good. He hes a very boyish vibe. His glasses are always covered in fingerprints but he always forgets to clean them so he doesn't even bother anymore. He's learned to just ignore the dust LOL. I also think he has perfect teeth, like a good ol' Hollywood smile.

Canada is the prettiest out of the allies! People just don't notice because.. y'know. Canada tends to put a lot of care into his appearance in case someone does notice him, like having better posture, wearing nice, clean, ironed clothes all the time, and just having better self-care habits than America does. Though sometimes he forgets to shave or comb his hair LOL.

England is attractive but in a sorta unkempt scrunkly way. His teeth are crooked, and he has sanpaku eyes. His feathers get quite ruffled if someone brings up appearances, because... Not the best climate in England, and there's the whole British people meme LOL. But, the one thing he's got going for him is he's INCREDIBLY photogenic. I'd say he photographs the best besides China. He's great at modeling, and excels when it's for more punk photography.

France is just stereotypically good-looking LOL. He cares the most about his appearance, but since he's relied so much on just looking naturally good, he has a bit of a hygiene problem.. But hey, at least he's got the best closet out of anyone here– Ah, nevermind, China's got him beat there..