gays in space

I am a 23 year old Indian muslim lesbian living with my homophobic and abusive parents. I came out to my parents a couple of months back in July and it has been painful ever since. I made a post about this before but the situation has only gotten worse ever since.

My father has started hitting me physically and my mother just walks out of the room whenever that happens. He keeps blaming me for "being like this" and tells me how I don't deserve to live. I had my laptop taken from me and I have to sneak into their room in the mornings when they are asleep to use my phone. It is currently 9AM and I am shaking in fear of being caught. I cannot call the cops because I live in a homophobic society and they may agree with his actions.

I know that you may not care about a stranger on the Internet at all but I am begging you to help me in any way possible. A reblog works and so does a single cent. I need to leave this place.

Please, please consider donating:

Apparently, Aziraphale calls him darling now. Calls him sweetheart and gorgeous and handsome.

It makes Crowley itch, makes the skin on his face burn like he’s allergic to it.

“Your face isn’t burning, Crowley, don’t be absurd,” Aziraphale tuts and flips the page of his book. “It’s called blushing.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” Crowley snipes. “I don’t like you calling me all those…soppy lovesick names.” The burning is back, and it’s reached his neck.

“Why ever not, beloved?” Aziraphale asks, glancing up with raised eyebrows, and bloody HELL there it is again! “You call me angel all the time. I can’t see why I’m not allowed to do the same, dearheart.”

Crowley points, opens his mouth to argue, “That’s! I’m! You, hgk! Sss’not the same, angel!”

“No need to shout, sweetheart.”

“HNG!” Crowley says, indignant and scarlet-faced. His ears are aflame. He can feel the entirety of his head boiling, about to explode. “ANGEL.”

Aziraphale looks down on his book as if he’s made his decision to ignore Crowley’s rambling but then he purses his lips and raises up his book just so to cover his mouth and Crowley catches the Smuggest Grin Ever To Grace God’s Earth right on Aziraphale’s face.

“Oh, you bastard,” Crowley accuses.

Aziraphale doesn’t miss a beat. “Watch your language, dearest.”

“Stop it,” Crowley hisses, standing up threateningly.

“Stop what, lovely?” Aziraphale closes his book, staring at Crowley in challenge, and oh, it is ON. Crowley strides forward with the redness sitting high on his cheeks, intent to set things straight, but Aziraphale doesn’t let up. “Handsome, darling boy, starlight?”

“Sssstop it!”

“Petal, dewdrop, honey, my prince–”

“SSSTOP!”

Crowley yanks fistfuls of his jacket, looks Aziraphale right in his frustratingly blue eyes, and proceeds to kiss the ever living daylights out of him, biting on his lower lip just for good measure–

–and then swallows back a whimper when Aziraphale bites back, and then cups Crowley’s face with a gentle hand, holding him in place so Crowley can’t get away, wouldn’t get away, wouldn’t even think of it, as Aziraphale kisses him with such fervent adoration, slotting their mouths like they were made for this purpose of worshiping each other and nothing else. They kiss for hours. Eternities even, it feels like. Crowley is burning and Crowley is drowning and Crowley cannot imagine ever stopping.

Nonetheless, he breaks free first, placing a shaky hand over the one Aziraphale has on his jaw. His lips are tingling, his chest tight–Crowley is almost sure he’s at Death’s door. “Angel,” he says and Hell, has he ever sounded so shattered before? “Aziraphale, you’ll kill me with all this.”

Aziraphale’s face softens. His thumb strokes tenderly over the sharp edges of a cheekbone. “Oh, Crowley,” he whispers with a smile both apologetic and grateful. “My soul, my light, my all. You can’t die from this much love, I don’t think. Not when you have loved me all these years with so much patience. Not when you’ve loved me with such unwavering intensity.”

Crowley’s eyes are burning now, too. His mouth trembles when Aziraphale brushes away a stray tear.

PART 7!

I decided to post this all at once, because sometimes u just gotta

this was probably one of my fav parts to do 😔👌 now just one more to go! 💜

I was off Tumblr yesterday participating in the protest, which means I didn’t get to post my “Fandom Crossover” installment of the Carry On Countdown on time (it did get posted in a timely manner to Twitter, though, so I guess I was sort of on time). But even if it’s late, for my fellow Snowflakes who dig Voltron/Klance, I come bearing fanart!

I officially dedicate this picture to @carryonsnow-baz, who wanted to know if I’d ever do Klance fanart. I had said probably not, but of course, no one eats my own words better than I do. lol 

A Thanksgiving gift from me to you. Of the many things I’m thankful for, I’m so grateful to have discovered @rainbowrowell’s Carry On and this amazing community. I hope you enjoy this series. It feels a bit personal for me, as there’s a bit of me in every expression on the page. So consider yourself seduced. ;)

Title: “Cross Every Line”

Description: The final scene of Chapter 64 from Carry On, in which Baz resists Simon - to no avail.

About the Art: I tried to use the sentence “I’d cross every line for him” as inspiration for this series. Throughout the comic, you’ll notice Baz’s inner monologue slicing through the panels as a means to demonstrate the power of Baz’s feelings for Simon against Baz’s facade. Hence, his thoughts cross lines all over the place. The panels themselves eventually succumb to this motif, with his memories of the night before cutting in so dramatically, they take up the bulk of the spread. The final spread pushes this theme to a resolution as Simon and Baz’s embrace is splayed across two panels, ending with both of them sharing the final panel together - and unlike all the other monologue boxes, which cut into the panels, Baz’s declaration of love is smack in the panel beside them.

I made sure to chronicle this process, so I hope to have that to share with you guys next week. Also, I know there are asks waiting in my inbox - I promise to get to them soon. :)

Sorry this is so enormous and likely clogging up your feed this morning. Before I forget, ”No one’s seducing a vampire” is still in production. It’s definitely a difficult adaptation (hello 12 panels of victorian bedroom), so it’ll be a while yet before I’m finished with that one. But anyhoo…

About the art: Chapter 62 was the second most requested portion of Carry On for adaptation into a graphic novel format. However, rather than pull swaths of text from the chapter, I decided to zero in on one little snippet:

(His cross is on the other side of the room now.; Snow took care of it himself this time.) 

- Baz, Chapter 62, Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

Given how Simon had used the cross earlier in the novel to drive separation between him and Baz, I like to think that taking it off himself was, in part, a romantic gesture - a symbolic dismantling of that last wall between them. 

That said, artistically, I tried to evoke the sensation of falling in love. For this reason, I largely left words out of it and tried to render the format in a way that makes it feel like you’re… descending. The colors deepen. The panels get smaller. And the last page shows Simon and Baz falling into each other’s arms out of frame, with flames dominating the end shot. (*wink* See what I did there?)

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I loved drawing it. <3

days 1 & 2: destiny/realization

after an awkward conversation about facial scars and glowing marks, there were… other questions that needed answering.

happy valentines day guys!