Emo Boi

My therapist just told me my problem is that I need to write more fanfiction.

10 Worst characters in Good Omens🔪

10. There aren't

9. Any characters

8. In Good Omens

7. That deserve to be labelled

6. As the worst

5. Because all the characters

4. Have their own

3. Backgrounds and characteristics

2. Which make them unique and interesting

1. Metatron

the only time members of the bakusquad can torment bakugou with zero repercussions is when he's unable to fight back

this post is completely inspired by this bakusquad post by @luckylightningbolts

An informational comic I illustrated for my comics 2 class about drag!

he probably did

WHO LET HIM DRIVE?!?

In a galaxy that is quite xenophobic and isolationist humanity is the odd one out. We generally like aliens and want to get along. When they turned us down, we redoubled our efforts. Now our fleet is orbiting the alien’s home world. We may no longer come in peace, but they will be our friends.

fuck, u so right

Dang it guys

we only ever talked about HALF of why these scenes were a big deal, like I just realized this today and my heart is going insane.

It’s not just that Crowley’s pissed at Gabriel for treating who he thinks as Aziraphale this way, the last thing he says to the people about to kill him is a benign and peaceful wish to see them again.

And like- this is Crowley trying to replicate Aziraphale to a T. So he legitimately just sees him as this endless well of compassion, someone who is always warm and accepting. It’s not just their friendship throughout the years, he remembers Aziraphale’s kindness on the Eastern Gate. When the angel had absolutely no reason to trust this random demon who just slithered up next to him. Crowley knows that he’s loved. Maybe not like that quite yet (although he’d be very wrong), but he knows that around his friend he’s always welcome and safe.

And Aziraphale?

Well he just thinks Crowley’s the coolest fucker alive, like he is laying it in THICK and enjoying every second. Listen to that charisma, look at that smirk. These are traits that are typically only appreciated in the context of how good it makes Crowley at tempting, a job he hates. But Aziraphale doesn’t see someone manipulative or regard this persona as signs of his “demonic nature”, he just sees Crowley. Someone charming, fun loving, and cute.

This is when we get to know precisely why they love each other, what exactly they see in the other.

this fic was absolutely amazing, i literally binged it in one sitting holy shit

ten reasons (to go to michigan): bonus

authors note and chapter below the cut. thanks for loving this little au so much.

--

read the fic here

notes: it is short, and thats largely because i could easily get carried away, drumming up countless scenarios of their little life together for the time being.

my #brand is kind of sort of love stories. and my mission statement is always this idea of...love comes with an asterisk of like "it doesn't always work this way". one of the biggest messages of ten reasons was for remus to learn how much of himself he had given away in a previous relationship, so much so that the only place he had to go at the beginning of the fic with a drop of familiarity was his childhood town. and you can see this with his speech in particular, how hesitant he is to give anything of himself away. and at the end of the fic, even though he's being brave and starting this relationship for real (and starting it the same way he started his first one that ended so poorly), he also knows this time around more of himself and more of what belongs to him.

he has an apartment of his own. he has a successful book that he is allowed to be proud of. he has the upper peninsula. he knows which friends he can count on (and one of them happens to be Marlene). so yes, it was a love story...but it also wasn't. at the end of the fic, remus knows this time around if it all goes to shit, he'll be okay.

(we could also say the same for sirius, who's last serious relationship was when he was high all the time and wasn't himself. its a love story...but its also not.)

without further ado...

--

“Harry, let’s go!” Sirius said down the hall, “Your butt needs to be out that door in 10 minutes!”

“Telling me when I need to leave doesn’t help me go any faster!” Harry shouted back and Remus sipped his coffee at the table across from Regulus, both of them used to the morning hurricane that was Sirius trying to get a fourteen, going on fifteen-year-old out the door in a timely fashion, neither of them offering any help. In fact, most mornings, Regulus was content to make Sirius’ job harder with dry comments, occasionally sticking out a foot from underneath the table to see if Sirius would trip over it in the hurry. Remus was always impressed that Sirius managed to dodge it, and managed to get Regulus back later in the day. Remus had witnessed Regulus fall to the ground due to an assault from his brother more than a few times. Despite how early they were, and that Remus could’ve stayed in Sirius’s room, he found it easier to get up with the rest of the house, realizing that once Harry was out the door, the morning slowed down significantly and Sirius made a better cup of coffee than he ever could.

It never got old though.

The morning dance of Sirius packing a lunch (though these days it also consisted of giving Harry a wad of cash and hoping for the best); of Harry stumbling down the hall still half-asleep with his backpack over his shoulder; the banter and the reminders for the day.

“I’m here, I’m going, it’s fine,” Harry said, emerging from his bedroom, his shoes already on, but his school tie undone and the blazer over his arm.

“Seven minutes,” Sirius said, “You remember which train to take?”

“Yes, I’ve been doing it for months now.”

“Homework?”

“Packed,” Harry said, grabbing a bar from the pantry and an orange from the counter that went into his backpack as well. “Coffee?”

“You’re small enough, kid.”

“That was uncalled for. I’m growing,” Harry scowled and Sirius shrugged “I am! Tell him!” He looked at the table for help.

“I’m not telling him anything,” Regulus said, his hands wrapped around his own cup of coffee as he eyed his nephew, “But I am telling you that over my dead body are you walking out the door looking like you’ve rolled out of bed.”

“I mean, I did,” and Remus snorted at the reply. There was something so refreshing about getting to know a teenager and having them as part of his life. No punches were ever pulled, no stone of opportunity for back-talk and sass unturned. But Harry was kind like Sirius, in the way he held doors open for others when they went out together; the way it was always thank you and please when he meant it. The way he stopped what he was doing to listen if he thought it was important.

“I’m not above tucking in your shirt for you, Harry,” Reg put down his coffee, “Fix yourself, please.”

“Sirius said I have five minutes!”

“Four now,” Sirius said and Harry sighed, dropping his backpack to the ground in a huff, Remus smiling silently over his cup of coffee. The adjustment to private school uniforms was one of Harry’s biggest complaints. Though from the rest of what he had observed, and been told from Sirius, the smaller class sizes and the available sports teams were worth it. Harry had friends. Harry had a girlfriend. Harry was no longer the kid whose parents died so he moved, and was just another kid. “And it’s only two if it’s the subway, but I’m always happy to drive and can cut the time in half”

“You shouldn’t brag about that,” Remus said under his breath, Sirius hearing and giving him a wink.

“No one wears the uniform right…” muttered Harry, tucking in his shirt, trying to keep still as Sirius knotted the tie around his neck.

“Well, no one isn’t my nephew so,” Regulus shrugged, “Sorry about it.”

“Can you divorce your relatives? Can I sign a petition for an Uncle who isn't such a--"

"Shhh, it's too early, it's too early," Sirius's voice masked the undoubtedly unpleasant thing Harry was saying to Regulus, the man not entirely able to conceal his smile.

“Shame,” Harry pulled a face at Regulus, and Regulus returned it, the comments all said without bite behind them. Harry picked his bag up again. “Can I go? Anything else? Should I curtsy? Spitshine my shoes really quick?”

“Your shoes are fine, actually.” Regulus commented, “Would love the curtsy though, let me get my phone out so I can have it on video.” Harry ignored his uncle, turning back to Sirius who had caught his face in his hands. The same way they always did before Harry left for the day.

“Text me when you get to school, I love you so much, don’t get caught kissing in the halls again, babe.”

“I know the rules, babe. Love you, babe.” Harry rolled his eyes, Sirius still managing to kiss him on the side of the head before he walked out the door entirely, “Bye Reg, Bye Remus!”

Remus gave a wave. Thinking back to the mornings where Harry didn't acknowledge his existence at the table until after 10am. As if he wanted to pretend his godfather wasn't in a relationship serious enough that warranted sleepovers. Thinking back to the time Harry had cornered Remus by the shared bathroom and sized him up.

I like you. But if you hurt him, I will leave terrible public reviews on your book and drag your name through the mud. Don't underestimate the power of a teenager with a smartphone. Yeah?

As far as Remus knew, he was still holding up his end of the bargain.

Once the door shut, Sirius let out a breath, running a hand over his hair to tie it up.

“That’s an Olympic sport, I think. And I’d medal in it,” he said, walking over to Remus for the first time that day to wrap his arms around his shoulders. Sirius was always up first, and by the time Remus made it to the kitchen, the day at the races was on and consisted of lunch making and double-checking for permission slips and schedules for sports practices. Remus didn’t mind waiting for the morning kisses though. They always came.

Long gone were the days he once sat wondering if affection would come before the nighttime. Before substances and loneliness. Long gone were the days someone reached for Remus because he was there and not because they wanted to.

“Were you really going to let him walk out the door looking like that?”

“Careful, your snob is showing, Reg,” Sirius replied from where he had gone to fix his own cup of coffee, the scent of Sirius’s shampoo lingering somewhere around Remus’s shoulder. Only a few feet away and Remus already missed the weight of arms on his shoulders.

“I’m serious.”

“If you want to be the one who wakes him up after he shuts off his alarm, and makes sure he doesn’t leave his brain in his bedroom with his homework every morning, by all means. I will gladly take over and make sure his shirt’s tucked in before he leaves the house. Drinking coffee leisurely at the table.”

“How else would you get the gold then?” Regulus asked, sharing a smart look with Remus. Sirius came over to join them, immediately taking Remus’s hand and putting it at the back of his neck, Remus’s fingers running along black curls. Sirius’s eyes met his, a soft smile crossing his lips as he picked up his coffee mug.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Morning.”

It wasn’t every night that they spent together, and it wasn’t every morning either, phone calls and text messages bridging the gap between time spent underneath sheets, bodies wrapped around each other like trees grown together. It wasn’t every day they spent together, Remus having his own schedule that was being steadily filled out by meetings and interviews for book podcasts, the rush of finishing first returning quickly when his name stayed on top of the Best Seller list for months.

There was no resentment when Remus was gone. Just Tupperware of Remus’s favorite cookies tucked away into his suitcase to find for later. Just embarrassing Welcome Home signs at the airport. Just long kisses in airports, like they do in all the movies. Just daily reminders of what he was coming back to.

Miss you.

Proud of you.

I love you.

My novelist.

There was no insecurity (well...less insecurity) when Sirius was absent during lacrosse playoffs or what Remus learned was called installation week and Sirius would be at the studio for days at a time with his phone on Do Not Disturb mode, only coming up for air for childcare. Remus left the reminders on those days.

I hope you’re still getting sleep.

Harry is welcome at my apartment if you need more time. I don't know anything about teenagers but I have a television and a full pantry.

Friday take-out is on me

I love you

No matter what, they always came back together. Words dissolved into each other's arms and they caught up on the hours, the day, sometimes the week; hands just thankful to be touching once more, eager to feel warm skin again.

It wasn’t perfect, though Remus thought some days that this painfully realistic Hallmark movie that involved sleepless nights, lingering drug habits, grief, crippling anxiety, and a teenager who told the truth no matter what, was still light years better than the faux-fairytale he was in for his twenties. Remus was still repairing trust in others after being badly burned. Sirius was still learning to ask for help instead of burning out.

It wasn’t happy ever after, because that simply didn’t exist, as much as Remus would look at Sirius on his bad days and see a knight in shining armor.

But it was happy.

It was happy.

Logan & Patton went out for dinner and it's chaos now

every episode of Sanders Sides

i can see this happening so clearly

ur art style is so cute oml!!!

Local Soho residents adopt heartbroken demon