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#it’s my first one
loving-and-dreaming · 4 months
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Can you write a little something about Sirius walking in on you cuddled in his sweater please?
I truly hope you like this 💕💕 I tried my best. It’s my first one in awhile 😅
When Sirius got back to their shared flat, he thought nothing was out of the ordinary. Living with two guys and his girlfriend there is always bound to be noise, especially with his girl. He knows how much silence bothers you so the soft music coming from the record player in his room raised no red flags. However, what did make him curious was the lack of voices singing along. You and James are notorious for belting whatever song is playing at the top of your lungs. Siri brushed it off as if you must have your nose buried in a book.
He sets his legs in the trey, his shoes on the rack(if he didn’t he knows you and Moony would be at his throat). “Sweetheart, I’m home!” No one answers, typically he will get a cheeky answer from James or you running to get your daily dose of hugs. “James?” Still no answer. Looking at the shoe rack he sees James's running shoes nowhere to be found. Well, that answers that question, but your shoes and keys are in place. That leads him to explore the flat. He checks the living room, kitchen, bathroom, nothing. His last stop is y’all’s shared room.
At first glance, he didn’t see anything, but as he looked closer he noticed a lump on the bed. He sniggered, it’s just like his baby to nap. Moving slowly to the bed he notices the blanket slipping off and you clutching his pillow. What he sees next however baffles him. You are all snuggled into your sweatshirt but upon closer inspection, it’s his sweatshirt. The one toy claimed to have no idea where it went, the one he lost last week. Well, it looks like he didn’t lose it as much as you snatched it up. How on earth did he miss this? Y’all live together, how did he miss it?
Laughing to himself, he cannot find it in himself to get upset when you look all cute like that. Hair all over the place clutching his pillow while burrowing farther into his sweatshirt.
Sirius gets up takes his pants off and hits his shirt while carefully climbing in behind you. “Wha? Siri? You’re home?” You turn around and squint at him.
“Yes, Sweet girl. It’s me. Go back to sleep, I could use a nice nap.”
“Mmmm okay, Siri. I love you.” You close your eyes and snuggle closer to your love.
“I love you too sweet girl, and thank you for finding my sweatshirt.” You must have already fallen asleep because normally you would have sassed him back. He presses a tiny kiss to your forehead and closes his eyes, finally able to relax into the arms of his love.
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kosmickasper · 1 year
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I did a thing :3
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clingylilhoneybee · 2 years
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Y’all my tattoo is scabbing so much how does this not drive all of you insane??,??
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peachypicture · 1 year
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3 weeks from today I’m getting a tattoo 😱
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lucdoodle · 2 months
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thought that one Alastor scene would look cool in comic lettering, so i drew this
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starbuck · 5 months
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i say i like tragedies and everyone’s all like ‘why do you like sad stories? are you depressed?’ and never ‘how was the catharsis? was the catharsis fun?’
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ineed-to-sleep · 6 months
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This mans got me in a chokehold ahahahaaa 🫠
don't tell him I said that
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reblog to give the prev a hot chocolate with (optional) whipped cream and marshmallows
[Doesn't apply to Harry Potter fans, no hot chocolate for you. JKR is an irredeemable bigot]
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endusviolence · 1 month
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Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?
I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?
In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".
Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.
This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.
Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.
The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.
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[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]
There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.
This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.
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[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]
As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.
But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?
Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.
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ashoss · 2 months
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patrol is fun :DD
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internetdruid · 5 months
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Favorite genre of image ever
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redsray · 2 months
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the funniest part of any Robin meeting the JL is that every Robin is so distinctly different from the previous one in terms of personality and vibes that the league literally gets backlash. and like, I don't blame them. not to mention that they are non-meta children that dress as a traffic light and fight crime alongside batman in gotham on a nightly basis. i'd also be a bit concerned. Batman, literally The Night of Gotham personified in the League's eyes, coming into a JL meeting: This is Robin, my crime-fighting partner. 11-year-old Dick Grayson, dressed in the brightest primary colours possible, vaguely hidden murder behind those eyes, never stops moving even for a moment: Hi! Superman: That's a child. That's-- Bats that is a child. You let a child--? Batman, deadpan: You try to stop him. Would you rather he try and murder a grown man with a wire?
Batman: This is Robin. 12-year-old Jason Todd, with the biggest grin on his face, about 3 books in his hand, stars in his eyes and a distinct street-kid drawl: Hey!!! Green Lantern: That's ... that's a different child. What?? Jason: I stole his tires :) Batman: Tried to. Jason, stage whispering to the League: basically did. Green Lantern: that is a different kid, right?? I'm not seeing shit??
Batman: This is Robin. 14-year-old Tim Drake, bo staff clutched in his hand, a wary and tired expression on his face, more on the quiet side, the literal walking definition of don't judge a book by it's cover: hello Flash: Where do you even find these-- Tim: I found myself.
Batman: This is Robin. 17-year-old Stephanie Brown, literally blonde, with a shit-eating grin, eyes full of nothing but mischief and the most explosive personality you've ever seen: hiya!! Superman: I give up. Stephanie: I know, I have that amazing effect on people.
Batman: This is Robin. 13-year-old Damian Wayne, a literal wet cat that will hiss at you, has a sword, the most judgemental stare you'll get from a teenager, ready to jump anyone there: Green Lantern: WHY DOES HE HAVE A SWORD?! Batman: ... he came with the sword.
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lab-gr0wn-lambs · 7 months
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And lemme know your age (if you feel comfortable!), and when you got your first phone in the tags!
If these options are scuffed I'm sorry, I genuinely have no clue how many phones people are "supposed" to have had (hence the poll)
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nouverx · 2 months
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Louise never heard about puppy love, cause they don't know that term in France 💔
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Lyrics are from Louise by TV Girl ! I was listening to it yesterday and that specific line on the second page screamed Alastor I just had to draw something about it
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chernozemm · 7 months
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infatuation makes your heart race love is quiet. love sets you at ease.
and because most of my pieces are mental screenshots of little scenes in my head, here's the scene:
Crowley was tugged into consciousness bit by bit. The afternoon light slowly filtered in, as well as the hum of music from the other room and the weird angle his neck was at. He was warm and content and wanted to sink back into his nap, but the threads of sleep fluttered away the more he tried. Finally, he took a deeper breath, shifting in the armchair, and cracked an eye open just a sliver. There he was, the angel, sitting at his desk. Had hardly noticed Crowley was awake, engulfed in his task of retouching a damaged page. Looking at his hands, Crowley became aware of the fuzzy warmth covering his own and peeked down to see a blanket tucked around his shoulders.
The feeling hit him so hard he let his head loll to the side, eyes closed. His chest tightened and he just…buckled. Finally came undone under the weight of his love for Aziraphale. Its inexorable, steadfast pull which he had been pushing back against for millennia, it had finally caught him off guard, sleepy and vulnerable and so tired from holding back, from refusing to name it. It was a quiet surrender. Crowley looked back at Aziraphale with the understanding of a man meeting his end and embracing it.
Perhaps he could gently pull the blanket to the side and get up. Perhaps he could cross the few steps to the desk and place a freshly made cup of tea to Aziraphale’s right. Perhaps he would hold his gaze, for longer than needed to answer “Don’t mention it”. Perhaps he would ask him if he would like a scone with that. Perhaps Aziraphale would understand that this was not about the scone at all. And yet, what Crowley was asking of him was also exactly about scones. And tea. And quiet afternoons together. Perhaps the angel would finally put down his sword, too, and the world would let out a breath it had been holding for millennia.
the soulmate to this piece, i guess.
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unionfatal · 2 months
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who remembers this outfit?
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