FromDarknessIntoLight

Jason + Molotov cocktails

I had planned to do something totally different with my day but instead I made a whole bunch of pride birds! I plan to put them on Redbubble asap.

ADDITIONAL BIRBS

Sapphic: red-tailed comet Aromantic: dusky-headed conure

Guess who! Lesbian cockatoo. :)

Texts From Superheroes

Just

Just AWFUL

If Logan offered to cure every diesease ever for humanity in the Marvel universe and they were given a choice between “Accept a cure that comes from one of those Damn Muties or Continue Allowing People To die Horribly From Many Diseases” they would probably choose the latter

“That’s not a real blood type”

(from Wolverine vol.07:no.01, Feb 2020, written by Benjamin Percy)

Receiving a transfusion of it gave Dracula the ability to walk around in daylight unharmed! This also explains why Wolverine can’t just donate his blood for research: “once it leaves him, its powers are soon suppressed and its compatibility deteriorates.”

DC did something similar with Poison Ivy (in the comics and BTAS), she’s immune to any and all poisons or contaminants.

Also just to point out that for many places, surnames are a relatively recent thing for most social strata. Patro/matronymics predate them in almost every part of Europe, and in many places surnames started out as patronymics. This is why you have all the surnames ending in -son/-sen in the UK and Scandinavia, -ex in Spanish, -vich (or a variation thereof) in Slavic languages, Mac- in Gaelic, O’- in Irish etc. All these are patronymics that predate the use of surnames.

Plus, the arrival of the surname is a very recent thing in many parts of Europe. In the Nordics, only people belonging to the estates (so nobility, clergy, bourgeoisie and land-owning peasantry, a small minority of the total population) had surnames before the 19th century. The vast majority of people would only have a first name, using either patro/matronymic (or in Finland the name of the house or village where they worked and lived) to distinguish themselves from those with the same name if needed. In Finland, people have been required by law to have a surname for only a century (exactly: the first law on surnames came into effect in 1920). Iceland never did that.

In 2019, changes were announced to the laws governing names. Given names will no longer be restricted by gender. Moreover, Icelanders who are officially registered with non-binary gender will be permitted to use the patro/matronymic suffix -bur (“child of”) instead of -son or -dóttir.

“Black panther has an adorable reaction when they see their favorite zookeeper“ 

@fic-request-blog

The first time it happened was in Eden, when Crowley was still regularly changing between forms. Aziraphale simply plopped down beside him one day, a veritable cornucopia of fruit gathered in the skirt of his robe, and proceeded to eat and talk and try to cajole Crowley into trying things until the heat of the day and the fullness of his stomach seemed to lull him into a heavy-eyed stupor. Leaning back on the rock Crowley was currently coiled upon, he didn’t even seem to notice that his fluffy angelic head had come to rest on something rather less rock-like. And he was so warm. It was only instinct, really, for Crowley to loop himself around the angel’s shoulders and go to sleep.

The second time it happened, they were stumbling-drunk, giggling and shushing their way up to one or the other of their dwellings. Crowley didn’t remember transforming, but when he woke to Aziraphale’s pained moan some time the following day, he was draped across Aziraphale’s prone and hungover body in his snake form, and didn’t see any urgent need to change back.

The third time it happened, Crowley was merely cold and feeling daring. He was quite prepared for Aziraphale to tut and push him off – and really, irritating the angel could be its own kind of fun – but just like before, Aziraphale barely seemed to notice the incursion on his personal space. After a few minutes, the steady warm weight of his hand came to rest somewhere on the length of Crowley’s spine.

After that, it happened several times more, never quite premeditated, but certainly never too often to be obvious. ‘Aziraphale doesn’t seem to mind a giant black snake snuggling up to him’ simply became a fact of existence on Earth, a trinket, a little pearl of information, akin to ‘Aziraphale likes books’ and ‘the British Isles are a bit damp’. In terms of what it meant, at first Crowley didn’t know, and then he didn’t dare hope, and then he did dare hope, and then he just tried not to think about it to the extent that that was possible.

Then the Apocalypse came and went, and they somehow survived it, and the whole world took on a gold-tinted glow. They walked side by side towards the Ritz, and only detoured briefly when Aziraphale, with a deep breath and a “sorry, my dear, but I really need to–” pushed Crowley up against a tree trunk and kissed him breathless. Well, ‘briefly’ in the context of the length of time Crowley had been dreaming about such a thing – by the time they disentangled and continued on their way, the sun had actually moved quite an appreciable angle across the sky. 

Crowley couldn’t have been happier. Could barely speak from happiness, in fact, which worked out fine because Aziraphale had a great deal to say and Crowley simply watched him with the utmost contentedness as he talked and glowed and filled the room with light.

It was only once they had returned to the bookshop that uncertainty crept up on him. Aziraphale was buzzing around the stacks like a delighted honeybee in a field of flowers, and Crowley shoved his fingers into his too-small pockets and felt, all of a sudden, surplus to requirements.

In the past, he would have just left, made some casual parting remark and waved over his shoulder as he sauntered out, wishing all the while he could’ve found it in himself to stay a little longer. It had always seemed easier to remove himself, before Aziraphale had to ask him to go. Now, though. Now was a world in which Aziraphale had kissed him, a world they had helped to save together. Now was a world in which ‘our side’ wasn’t just a pipe dream or a very vivid hallucination. Now, maybe, he felt a little bit braver.

Braver, but still unwilling to mess it all up.

“Isss thisss okay?” Crowley hissed as he slithered his way up to Aziraphale’s shoulders. Aziraphale turned his head to give him a long look, before a gentle smile curved the corner of his mouth, and he left his books behind to walk the short distance to his favourite armchair in the back room.

Once seated, he sighed. “My dear, this is perfect,” he said, radiating warmth and contentedness. He stroked one hand tenderly down a length of Crowley’s scales. “Though I would certainly not be averse to trying it the human way tomorrow.”

PAMPARA (2019)

At the end of 2019, Renell Medrano embarked on a journey to somewhere she had visited throughout her childhood, a place that has long-inspired her highly-lauded photographic work. The spirit of the Dominican Republic, her parents’ homeland, infuses the extraordinary imagery she has made since she was a teenager.

The stableboy who had stolen her book of spells looked baffled. “What does that have to do with love?”

Happy pride ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

This painting is very special because it’s for a cause!

For the next week I’ll be selling this print in 5x7 for $5 or 11x17 for $20 and I will be donating all proceeds to The Trevor Project, a nonprofit that has been helping LGBT youth in crisis since 1998. You can visit my Etsy to preorder and I’ll send them out in late June! If you’d like to spread the word I’d be so grateful!