coloring more like piece of shit

After The Fact

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Fat Gum (Brief)

Other Tags: Set immediately after the current arc, Hurt Kirishima (Physical and Emotional), Bakugou Doesn’t Know How To Handle Emotions, Hurt/Comfort

(A note: You know, the adults in this world are incredibly irresponsible. Letting fifteen year old newbie heroes-in-training participate in this kind of rescue, resulting in at least one of them getting beaten within an inch of his life…)

Read on Ao3 here

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They come back late at night. 

Two days. They’d been gone for two days: Uraraka, Tsuyu, Deku. A couple of upper classmen, too. Aizawa-sensei. 


The class did not know the details beyond this: their classmates were helping the pro heroes. They would not be updated any further. It was a murmur of excitement, some jealousy — “Man,” Kaminari laments, “Kirishima’s been getting all the fame, huh?” So much for having a weak, style-less quirk. Kirishima didn’t need flashy: he was strong as hell on his own. 

So was, apparently, Deku. Enough that they, fucking freshmen heroes in training, were chosen to go on a mission with pros. That should have been Bakugou. The upperclassmen make sense. Aizawa, too, and hell he can even respect Uraraka and Kirishima and Tsuyu being there cause, yeah, they’re pretty damn good at what they do.

But Deku. 

He doesn’t know what to think about Deku any longer. There’s this knee-jerk disgust and need to snarl and bite and tear into him and reduce him to bloody shreds because how the fuck is Deku there but not Bakugou. 

But that’s not what matters right now. 

A quarter before one in the morning, Bakugou gets out of bed. He knows that the teachers are alerted when the doors open past curfew, but hell if he’s going to let that stop him. Those fuckers are back — he knows because he saw them clambering out of a truck together, and he can recognize Deku’s obnoxious fucking hair from a mile away. 

No one comes to stop him, anyway. They must be too damn busy giving a hero’s welcome to bother with some kid sneaking out late at night. Bakugou sneers. He’d going to find out what’s going on if he has to beat it out of Kirishima. The asshole had his lips sealed tight up until he fucked off for the last two days. Didn’t even say a god damn word. 

Outside, it’s cold. The air is still. He should have brought a jacket, but it’s too late now, so Bakugou trudges onwards in nothing but his shoes and pajamas towards the front of the school. There are voices, low, impossible to make out their words, but enough to tell him the majority of the faculty is up. Something big had happened. 

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no but i don’t think you understand how much i love cinder? she was not only physically but also emotionally abused during her childhood, and still remained hopeful and kind??!!? she was so resilent and strong and beautiful, and so inherently good and afraid of hurting others!!! she! never! wanted! to! hurt! anyone! because of her being part cyborg, she was relentlessly discrimated against and faced horrible prejudice every single day of her life. she was made to feel worthless and disgusting and that she had no place in the world. her best friend was a robot that she loved for and cared for. she lost her parents at a very young age, and was put into the care of a woman who cared more about the color of her shoes than cinder’s wellbeing. and yet, your girl managed to stay cheerful and was literally grateful towards that piece of shit we call adri?? she thought she was unlovable and unworthy of kai. cinder is a fucking blessing to this earth. cinder is a literal goddess do not fight me on this.

Breaking... Ch.2

A/N: Part two is finally done and it’s pretty long! I have no idea how to make links so if someone could message me and tell me how that would be apreciated ;-; Once I figure that out I’ll put one to part one on here so that no one has to go through my blog. Anyways I hope you enjoy! Here’s all the people who asked to be tagged, if you would also like to be tagged then just shoot me a message and I’ll add you in the next part! @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @renae-writes 

ok this is my attempt at trying to link this to part one

Part one

Word count: 3965 (oh)

Warnings: Anxiety/Panic attacks, allusions to sexual assault, more cursing(there will never not be curing)

Breaking Promises

             There was no way, this was literally physically impossible. No Y/N, what are you crazy?  Of course you didn’t travel back in time! There had to be some sort of explanation to this! Yet for some reason you couldn’t help your mind wander to that possibility. What if you had actually gone back in time? How would that even be possible? What are the consequences to you being here? How much have you changed by just breathing where you weren’t supposed to? More pressing, how would you get back if this was all real? This couldn’t be real, maybe you fell in some weird coma dream after that guy shot you. Hell maybe you were dead. You hadn’t even noticed how tight you were clutching your chest, how heavy and painful your breathing was.

             Everyone had their eyes glued to you, Eliza was holding onto your shoulders to help you stand. Angie and the two little boys looked scared about what was happening. Alexander looked like he was trying to keep his composure but his eyes were searching for answers. You could see their lips moving but it took a few moments before you could actually hear them. Eliza’s voice flooded over you first, it sounded diluted, almost washed out.

“Y/N! Dear, you’re safe, you have nothing to fear.” Her voice snapped you back slightly, only enough to the point where you could actually look at her. She was simply glad that you were finally being responsive.

“Yes, that’s it now. I am here, we are here. I’m going to count; focus on what I’m saying. Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…” She kept going, your head bobbing ever so slightly to the numbers but every time you thought you were about to calm down another thought came to mind. What if I really am dead? If I’m not, then how do I get back home? Can I even get home? Am I stuck here for the rest of my life?! Eliza looked over at Alexander frantically, he looked you in the eyes as his voice replaced Eliza’s. His was more clear than Eliza’s was.

“Miss Y/N, if you can hear me I would like to ask you to please nod your head.” You were able to do so and nodded slowly, a small bit of relief could be seen in his eyes.

“Very good, now take a deep breath with me.” He breathed in and you were able to shakily follow along. Eliza joined in with her husband, her voice was no longer hushed like it was before. Her voice was soft and comforting, she was a mother after all. A good one too if we’re being historically accurate. She was able to guide you through breathing well enough as to where you no longer were shaking, that was good. You fixed your posture and Eliza loosened her grip on you, for the first time in who knows how long you were able to speak.

“I’m, I’m sorry…” Your voice was feeble and weak, everyone’s gazes softened.

“Do not worry dear, you have nothing to apologize for.” Eliza said reassuringly.

“I have not seen anyone react to anything like that since the war. I do not know exactly what I said that upset you, but you should not be sorry, if anything I am sorry.” Alexander stated, his eyes completely focused on you to ensure that you wouldn’t regress.  You nodded along, your head aching, not quite the same way it was earlier but still debilitating. You rubbed your forehead with the palm of your hand before taking one last deep breath. Okay, this is real, at least in some capacity it is. I really don’t want to think I’m dead so I should put that thought on hold for now. I’m standing in front of Alexander Hamilton, the very first Secretary of Treasury, the guy on the $10 bill. If I really have gone back in time, then I have to be careful. I could literally change all of history if I meddle around at all, hell even existing here is probably screwing everything up. Stupid Butterfly Effect. You made a silent promise to yourself to not break history; it was probably for the best anyway.

             Opening your eyes, you saw Alexander and Eliza standing in front of you with worried eyes and downturned lips. These people, they don’t know who you are or how bad is it that you’re there. They don’t know anything about you and yet they treat you like a dear friend. You at the very least needed to thank them.

“Mr. and Mrs.…Hamilton I, I just wanted to say thank you for helping me, you know, calm down. That hasn’t exactly happened in a while…” You weren’t lying, it’s been a long time since you had a freak out like that. Not since graduation if I’m remembering correctly.

“My dear, there is no need to thank us. But you seem to be under a lot of stress, perhaps you need to take a break?” Eliza asked. Are we running away for the summer to go upstate? Shit, Y/N this is not the time for musical references! Pull yourself together! You allow yourself a moment to scream internally before responding.

“That won’t be necessary, I’ll be fine in just a second. Maybe we could sit down or something?” Wow that sounded dumb. Nice job trying to deflect yourself from the situation!

“Yes, perhaps that’s-“ Alexander started to speak before he was interrupted by a familiar, female voice.

“My apologies Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton but I wanted to inform you of Philip’s arrival…” Rachel locked eyes with you. “Miss Y/N! What’s wrong, did something happen?” She asked worriedly. She was standing in front of the now open front door, you could hear the sound wheels and some odd clacking from outside.

“Yeah, I’m fine Rachel, don’t worry.” You smiled at her meekly. Just as you were finishing your sentence a figure stepped up behind Rachel. He slid past her in the door way and his eyes scanned the room, his gaze finally fell onto you.

“Ah, Philip! Back later than usual aren’t we my son?” Alexander interjected with slight suspicion. Eliza patted him lightly on the arm before smiling at the young man making his way towards us. Wait… Philip? As in Philip Hamilton, the ray of sunshine in the midst of darkness? The sweet sunshine boy!

“There he is! My drop of sunshine! How was class today, love?” Eliza beamed. Oh praise we were right! The name is canon! His eyes never left you as he made his way over.

“Fine, class went well as always, mother… More importantly however, who might this lovely lady be?” Oh, of course this is coming from Mr. Let’s-strip-down-to-our-socks. I may indeed look good in my frocks but it is not happening today sir! He stops in front of you, holding out his hand with his palm facing up. He bows lightly and introduces himself.

“As for myself, I am Philip Hamilton.” He spoke with a slight chuckle and a sly grin. It took a second for you to realize you were supposed to give him your hand. You placed your hand on his palm, raising your hand to his lips he pressed a ‘polite’ kiss to your knuckle. This cheeseball really thinks he’s being slick, huh? You did your best to keep a straight face.

“My name is Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you, um, Philip was it?” You tried to hint that you were not interested. He stood back up with that grin still plastered on his face. You could finally get a good look at him as he stood in front of you. His slightly curled hair paired with the freckles splattered on his face reminded you of a piece by Jackson Pollock. Autumn Rhythms. His clothes were similar to his father’s but with color and fit were slightly different. The color itself was interesting, from far away it seemed to be grey but up close it looked to be more of a dull cyan.

“Yes, it is Philip, and if I may be so forward I’d like to say that your name is quite possibly as lovely as you.” This little shit, sunshine my ass, more like fuckboy. Wait a second was he the original fuckboy? Oh God no The Founding Fuckboys. You decided to stop thinking about that and try to look as serious as possible for someone thinking of ‘The Founding Fuckboys’ as a phrase used for the fathers of our country. You pulled your hand away and folded your arms behind your back, giving a sardonic smile towards his general direction. Alexander cleared his throat.

“Philip, my son, we were discussing some rather pressing matters before you arrived.”

“Oh? What matters exactly?” Philip questioned.

“I believe it would be best for us to sit down at the table first, supper is ready after all.” Eliza touched your arm gently before turning her attention to Rachel, who had stayed surprisingly silent throughout the conversation. Both of them turned to head down a separate hall, Alexander and the children followed them and just as you were about to join them Philip tapped you on the shoulder.

“Miss Y/N, as the eldest son, it would be politest of me to escort you to the table.” He held out his arm for you to take. Seriously? Okay, at this point this is just getting ridiculous.

“Thank you Philip, I’m sure it would be polite of you to lead me down a hallway, but I can walk myself just fine thank you.” You started to walk away with a bit of annoyance, you stopped and turned to look back at Philip. He looked shocked, not upset or angry, just shocked. You decided to add something to even the playing field slightly.

“Also, Mr. Hamilton, calling me Miss seems a bit formal. Just call me Y/N, after all I’m probably around the same age as you.” Although you were still a bit annoyed by his previous attempts to flirt when you clearly weren’t interested, you couldn’t help feeling a little sorry about how dejected he looked. You gave him a friendly smile and you could literally see his shoulders relax. Wow, was he really that tensed up? His surprised expression was quickly changed to one of intrigue. He folded his arms behind his back and spoke up once more, even his voice sounded more relaxed.

“Very well then… Y/N, forgive me, my behavior was not very becoming of me. If you could find it in yourself to pardon me for my actions, then I would be greatly appreciative.” His voice was softer and genuinely apologetic.

“You’re forgiven, now we should probably follow the others. Don’t want to miss dinner right?” You chuckled and turned back around to walk down the short hallway. Philip jogged up to walk beside you, a soft laugh escaping him as he approached. The two of you walked toward the dining room, Philip making offhand jokes about his parents along the way. Everyone was already sitting and adjusting themselves to be more comfortable by the time you had gotten there. Angie’s head perked up when you stepped into the room and when she noticed Philip at your side a mischievous grin replaced her innocent smile.

“Ooooh! Philly’s found his beloved!” She teased happily. You couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. What did Alexander call her earlier? Sunshine girl? Yeah, she’s the real sunshine in this house.

“Angelica, please, it’s rude to insinuate such things.” He buried half his face in one of his hands, you could tell he was a little embarrassed.  Oh siblings, the only people who are allowed to ruin your day. You walked to an empty seat at the table, Philip was about to pull the seat out for you but he stopped himself.

“Sorry, force of habit.” He shrugged with a smile before making his way to the other side of the table to sit across from you. You shook your head and rolled your eyes. Well, at least his little shit levels are manageable. What a dork. On the table you saw some sort of bread? It looks like bread but it’s got a funny shape to it. A few older women came out of a set of doors, their clothes were similar to yours and they were carrying bowls in their hands. A bowl was set down in front of everyone, when yours came you could finally see what it was. Some kind of stew? Honestly why am I surprised, New York was prominently Dutch during the colonial era. Wow I really am majoring in history aren’t I?

“Y/N dear, I know you’ve been having…a rather trying day so you do not have to tell us what happened quite yet. But if you think that you are well enough then we will listen.” Eliza cooed. What happened? What is she… Oh shit this is bad. I showed up on their doorstep with blood pouring from my head and definitely not wearing the proper attire for the century. Not only that but I’ve been saying things willy-nilly, how the hell am I supposed to explain my situation? You looked up to see Philip staring at you, not so much at you actually but at the bruise on the side of your forehead. Did he not notice it until now? Okay, if I tell them I don’t want to talk about it I’ll just have to do it later. I need to think of something now while I remember everything I’ve said in the past few hours. Come on, four years of Drama Club don’t fail me now! You took a deep breath to ease your rapidly beating heart.

“It’s fine Eliza, it’s probably best to get this off my chest now rather than later.” You cleared your throat. Alright, keep it simple and easy to remember.

“I’m from upstate New York, although I haven’t lived there for some time. When sickness came through downtown, my father decided I was to move down to North Carolina. I’m the only child that survived to adulthood so it was rather important that I stay as far away from the illness as possible.” Yes! Off to a good start! Everyone at the table was fully invested in what you had to say. They know that I can read, that’s what Eliza meant when she said she was surprised that I was educated. Only wealthy people were well off in education. I’m going to have to explain that.

“Honestly, my father is the one to thank for my wellbeing. He insisted that I have the best education; my mother was educated as well. I learned to read and write. He also made sure I had an appreciation for art as well as music. Though I must confess, I always had an infinity for politics and history. And my father indulged those interests.” Alexander seemed to take the most interest in what you were saying. Shit, I’m running low on ideas… Okay, Okay, what’s left? How I got here and why… Grand Finale I guess? I don’t know what to say… Fuck, this is going to get personal, I have no other options here. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Unfortunately, my parents passed from the disease last year. Land and money can’t be passed down to unmarried women so once word of their deaths went around I had several…visitors.” Damn it all.

“There was…one in particular that was, uh, a bit more aggressive than the others. I came back to try and get away from him but he found me. I was lucky to escape before anything really serious could happen.” You couldn’t help but look away from the eyes staring at you.

Eliza was the first one to break the silence. She swiped at her eyes and, after clearing the lump that formed in her throat during your story, she pushed her chair back and rounded the table to get to you. Eliza enveloped you into a warm embrace.

“Oh, you dear, sweet child. How horrible! No lady should ever be put into that situation. And no gentleman should ever press his advantages. I cannot even imagine! No wonder you were in such a disarray when you arrived.” You were taken aback for a moment but you couldn’t help it when you hugged her back. She pulled away and smiled warmly, smoothing down your hair with one hand. Alexander slowly stood up and walked to stand beside his wife.

“I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we would be honored for you to stay here with us.” He said with a proud smile. How are they so nice? Eliza nodded in agreement.

“Yes, Alexander is right. We’ll have a room set up for you in no time.” You didn’t know what to say for a second. You felt guilty for lying to them, even if they weren’t total lies and you knew you couldn’t actually tell the complete truth. All you need is a place to stay until the threads of time shove you back to the time where you belong.  Until then you need to lie low and try not to destroy the space time continuum. Easy, no problem at all.

“You’re too kind to me Eliza, thank you both so much.” You smiled as wide as you could manage but you knew your eyes were still downcast.

“Now I’m sure none of us want to exhaust you anymore so if you need to talk to any of us we will gladly do so. For now, let us all relax and eat supper, you must be starving dear.” Eliza ran her thumb across your cheek before her and Alexander went back to take their seats. You sat down and looked at the seat across from yours. Philip sat silently for a second until your eyes met. He didn’t look at all like he did earlier, no cheeky grin, no playful shine in his eyes, it was all replaced with something that resembled being distraught. He mouthed a sentence to you so that no one could hear him.

“May I speak with you later?”

“Of course, Philly” You mouthed, giving him a weak smile. Eliza and Alexander sat back down in their seats, an oddly comfortable silence filled the room. You looked around to make sure there wasn’t some specific way to eat the food, you settled with just trying to eat it as quickly and quietly as possible. That was kind of hard though, once you took a bite you realized how right Eliza was. You felt like you hadn’t eaten in days. Eliza filled the silence.

“Alexander, love, how was work today?” She smiled at Alexander, he didn’t seem to be happy though.

“He doesn’t even have a real job… Washington should have done something about him.” Was all that you were able to comprehend through his angry mumbles. Eliza heaved a sigh.

“We talked about this Alexander, John Adams has a job. And while we’re at it you must remember that George is no longer in office, he is back in Virginia, Adams is our president now.” Eliza explained. Wait, didn’t he say earlier that he worked under Washington? How can he work under him when Adams is in office?

“Betsy, I refuse to accept that that man is the leader of the country I fought for! He’s arrogant, ignorant and anti-charismatic!” Wow, he really didn’t like Adams did he? I guess I can’t blame him too much, no one really liked him as a follow-up to Washington.

“If that scoundrel thinks that he has the right to call me “Creole Bastard” than he is utterly mistaken!” Alexander spat. That fat motherfucker. Eliza coughed, practically choking on the tea she was sipping, Angie was staring at you with wide eyes, Philip and Alexander had wide grins stretched across their faces. Philip actually looked like he was trying with every ounce of strength in his body to not laugh. Why are they all looking at me like that?

“What did you just say?” Alexander asked with a sort of twinkle in his eyes. Oh no, what did I… Shit did I say that out loud?

“Uh, what? Did I say something?” You shoved a piece of bread into your mouth so that you wouldn’t be able to say anything else. This isn’t good, not only did I just make a reference out loud but it was also something that you probably didn’t hear women say! Nice job with trying to keep a low profile Y/N! Alexander and Philip both started to laugh hysterically.

“A fat motherfucker? That is a rather astute way to describe him actually!” Alexander howled.

“That is quite the slur, I have never heard someone say something such as that so casually!” Philip snorted. Eliza slapped Alexander on the arm and stared menacingly at Philip.

“Alexander! Do not use that sort of language around the children!” I never knew that you could yell quietly until now, Eliza you truly are impressive! You haphazardly ate the bread that was in your mouth, everything was happening so fast, you didn’t even realize how red your face had gotten.

“I am so, so sorry Eliza! That was extremely improper of me!” Eliza shook her head, giving another sigh.

“It is alright Y/N, my husband and son are also at fault for reacting in such a way. Dear, would it be alright if I asked you to watch your speech, at least around the little ones.” Her voice wasn’t quite unpleasant in that moment, it just sounded like a mom who wanted to make sure her children didn’t say something wrong. Which is exactly what she was. How do mom’s sound so nice yet so threatening at the same time? You nodded in a rather exaggerated manner.

“Of course! No problem at all, I’m really sorry…” You ran a hand through your hair to shake it out slightly. Note to self, never cross Eliza. Mom skills too great.

Supper finished relatively quickly after that, Angie and the little boys from earlier plus one more you didn’t recognize were the first to scamper off. Eliza stood up after a little bit and excused herself, she said that she would be in the garden for a little while. Now that you think about it, even for the time period, her clothes were still a bit off. Her dress was almost flat in the front, not figure hugging like most of the clothes in the 18th century, in fact the cloth seemed to pull away from her body. Weird. Alexander coughed softly to get your attention.

“I apologize again Miss Y/N, I promised you talks of literature during supper. If you would like you may join my son and I in the study. Not only can we discuss Shakespeare, as my daughter has told me you enjoy, but we might also converse on our…mutual distaste for…President Adams” Alexander’s voice strained as he said the last two words. Philip looked at you expectantly, he gave you a comforting smile.

“That sounds wonderful, I’d love to join you.” You sat up from your seat and began to follow Alexander down the hall. You matched your pace with Philip’s so that you would walk side by side. He looked down at you and nudged your arm. Looking up at him to see what he wanted he turned his gaze away, pretending he hadn’t done a thing. You chuckled softly and repeated what he did, he gave you a similar response.

All I have to do is not change history, simple right?

A wild artwork of my newest oc has appeared! XD I’m kidding but anyways this is a new character and here’s a bit of a story behind this:

So a while back I first saw a comic by an amazing artist (aka @velocesmells go follow them!) Called “Countdown to Countdown” and after a little while I felt a bit more comfortable sharing it with my two friends @rogueofcreations and @sunflowerpin who decided to create their own characters for it too. So we decided on creating all three of them together!

So this is my character Lotus Verde and I’m really excited to use him more! (In case you’re wondering: yes he is a self insert and yes he’s got a darker skin tone than my other self inserts and yes he’s got both brown and blue eyes it’s heterochromia)

Anyways I hope you guys like him and be sure to check out the comic I enjoy it so much even though it’s a bit short at the moment!

listen to me, art is ugly.

art is so fucking ugly and you know it is, you know it’s the bad thoughts and the dark places but you also know (or should know) that it’s catharsis, too.

art explores and challenges, otherwise it’s pretty, yes, but ephemeral.

and if you can’t understand that then what are you even doing?

art is not your most colorful dream. it can be. but damn, you know what it feels like to read something that feels like walking on mirror shards and it cuts so deep but it’s cleansing because you are not alone and these thoughts aren’t inside your head, creating an endless buzz, they’re on paper now and they can’t hurt you.

art is screaming when you can’t be crying anymore and it’s a long, sad song that makes you feel more human by the end.

if it hasn’t torn you to pieces and put you back again by the end of the page, then it didn’t do shit.

enough for me / sirius black

requested by anon. i hope i did it justice, love. x

word count// 1,850

It was a rare occasion for you to receive mail whilst attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You grew up in a household with two parents who happened to be muggles without a drop of magic within them. To say they were appalled when your letter of acceptance came in the post was an understatement, even though strange events occurred around you since your birth. Your mother and father tried to cope with your abnormal gift of magic, putting in every ounce of effort to learn about the world that would remain a part of their daughter forever, but you could see what they truly thought of you. Once your seventeenth birthday came around, their feelings towards the wizarding world bubbled out onto the surface.

A cream colored envelope lay on the table before you, the handwriting easily being recognized as your mothers. You could feel two sets of eyes studying your face and out of the corner of your own eyes, you could see that it was Lily and Remus who were watching you carefully. They were the only two people who knew of your rocky relationship with your parents, although you were positive Sirius Black had an inkling of an idea as well.

Your hands shook as you picked up the envelope and fear trickled in your body at what was written on the parchment concealed from your eyes. You felt Lily grasp your left hand and squeezed it reassuringly whilst Remus rubbed your back, tracing shapes and patterns against the uniform you wore. The remaining three marauders sensed the change in atmosphere and broke out of their crazed laughter, settling their attention on your painstakingly pale complexion and shaking hand.

“You really must never get letters, huh, Y/N?” Sirius teased, an infuriating smirk lacing his lips.

“And you do, Black?” You retorted with an eye roll before ripping open the envelope.

“I get letters all the time. I’m a desirable guy—“

“Shut up.”

The folded parchment shook slightly and you faintly heard Sirius speaking, but you tuned him out completely as your eyes skimmed over the elegantly scrawled words. Your heart sunk lower with each letter read.

Dear Y/N,
You may or may not have seen this coming, but your father and I believe that this is in our best interest as well as yours. We have tried to be accepting of what you are and the things you do, however we are just not cut out for your type of lifestyle. Therefore, we disown you as our daughter and banish you from our lives forever. This is what we believe is truly best and we hope that you can accept that.
You may retrieve your belongings over summer break and find somewhere else to stay. We wish the best for you and what is to come, Y/N.
Y/M/N & Y/F/N

Tears soaked the letter as you read the last few words lining the page. Your friends surrounding you looked concerned and you could see their lips moving, spewing questions towards you, but nothing was registering in your brain. Six words were being screamed by the voices in your head and they completely drowned out the chatter in the Great Hall. All you could hear were the six words that stuck out the most to you on the parchment in front of you.

We disown you as our daughter.

Shooting up from the table, the paper that held the pieces of your shattered heart floated to the ground as you stood abruptly. Your mouth formed words and sputtered out that you were going to class before you fled the Great Hall, walking further away from the prying eyes at the table.


Classes went by in a whirling blur of nothingness. Concentration refused to come easily and although you were immensely sad, your temper had also heightened and you were snappy with anyone whom came into contact with you. After spilling your completed potion on Professor Slughorn and earning a detention, being late for half of your classes, as well as being poked and prodded at by Sirius Black, you were feeling the lowest you had ever felt in your life. Your anger only bubbled over once you had entered the common room after dinner.

As soon as you neared the couch, you let your body fall onto the soft cushions. Every limb in you melted into the sofa, the plush piece of furniture feeling like a welcoming embrace after the worst day of your life. You could feel the Marauders and Lily watching you, but everyone had been staring at you all day so it wasn’t a feeling you weren’t accustomed to. It irked you quite a bit but you tried to refrain from exploding on your friends—minus Sirius.

“You look like shit,” Sirius exclaimed after minutes of silence.

When your eyes opened and met his dark brown ones, you saw his arrogant smirk and his position on the couch—one arm on the back of the sofa, the other on the arm of it, with his right leg propped on top of his left—and every ounce of anger surfaced. He looked like he owned the world and you hated it. You hated everything about Sirius Black.

“Leave me alone, Black,” You snarled. You had never sounded more menacing in your whole seventeen years of life.

“I’ll pass, love.” He grinned, only increasing your irritation and he knew it. “It’s much more fun making you mad.”

Clenching your jaw tightly, your curled your fingers into your palm and felt your fingernails dig into the skin. You tried to ignore him, but he was not backing down.

“Ever since that letter this morning—“

You sprung up from the couch and turned to him, fists clenched and heart racing. “Shut up. I swear to Merlin—“

Sirius’ lips quirked up a bit higher, a brow raising. “I believe I’ve struck a nerve, haven’t I, love?”

“Stop calling me that!”

“What was in that letter, Y/N? Did your muggle family finally realize that they don’t love you?”

Air constricted in your lungs. You no longer felt angry, but instead you felt inexplicably hurt. Your heart was physically shooting pain throughout your being and Sirius, who stood in front of you, grew blurrier by the second until tears finally broke through. He had announced your biggest fear, the fear you were living throughout the day but never admitted to yourself. He had hit the nail head-on and for some bizarre reason, it hurt you a little bit more because Sirius had said it.

Slowly nodding your head, tears continually cascading down your cheeks, you watched as his expression changed from smug to purely horrified and shocked. Your trembling hands furiously wiped away the tears and erased the paths they left on your face, hating the vulnerability they caused. “Yeah,” You whispered so quietly that he barely heard you. “Yeah, I suppose they did.”

The ebony haired boy’s lips parted, opening and closing like a fish blubbering for air. He felt his heart clenching and aching within the confines of his chest and he reached out for you, warm fingers ghosting along your wet cheek. He hardly had the chance to touch you when you jerked away from him and with a shatteringly hurt look thrown his way, you fled the Gryffindor common room and left the glowing warmth it held behind. Sirius stared at the portrait hole where he had last seen a flash of your y/h/c hair before it sealed shut again, leaving him to gape at absolute nothing. It wasn’t until a redheaded spitfire of a girl propelled his body toward the exit that Sirius broke from his paralytic state.  

“Go after her!”

Sirius took off out of the portrait hole and raced after you, adrenaline coursing throughout his veins to propel him forward a bit quicker. He ran until his lungs began to burn and he didn’t stop until he caught sight of a mess of y/h/c hair whipping around a corner in the many winding corridors. His legs pumped faster until he latched his fingers around your bicep and spun you around forcefully, the momentum from the two of you nearly knocking one another to the ground. He managed to steady himself as well as you, both of his hands moved to your waist, but his focus was steady on your red face and bloodshot eyes. You whimpered at the hurt flooding over you again just from merely looking at him and ripped away from his hands, his touch burning into you like a match to your bare skin.

“Why did you follow me?” You sniffled, trying to hold back another wave of waterworks. “Are you here to rub it in a little bit more? Tell me how much of a failure I am? I already know, Sirius, so you don’t have to tell me, okay? I—“

Breath caught in your throat when Sirius cupped your face in his hands ever so gently, like you were a piece of fragile porcelain. “You’re not a failure and that’s not why I followed you, Y/N,” He whispered. The gentle tone in his voice and the tender look in his earth colored eyes made you want to cry even harder.

“Then why did you? I know you don’t give two shits about me!” You pushed him away again, his arms falling to his sides.

Redness crept onto your face when Sirius scrutinized you. The burning hatred you once felt for him was slowly dying, but the hurt from his jab at your family remained. You felt confused as to why he was looking at you like he cared and why your digits itched to rub the crease between his eyebrows away. You felt strange for wanting him to touch you again and you did not understand when your feelings towards Sirius Black had changed.

“I understand what you’re going through, Y/N,” He finally said.

You rolled your eyes. “No you don’t. I’m sure your family is perfect and they love y—“

He laughed dryly. The pain shone through his eyes and you were surprised at the wetness that glistened in them. “My family is absolute shit. All they care about is blood purity and they despise that I’m in Gryffindor instead of following the blood line and being in Slytherin like my brother,” He growled and avoided your prying gaze. “I’ve never been good enough for them. I never will be.”

The shy demeanor surrounding Sirius provoked you to inch closer to the boy until you hesitantly looped your arms around his middle. Your head lie over his pounding heart and you felt your lips pull upwards when he returned the embrace, pressing your body flush to his own. As soon as Sirius pressed his lips to the top of your head, you forgave him and melted into him—fully and completely allowing every drop of hate to diminish.

“You’re enough for me,” You mumbled into his chest.

Sirius squeezed you tightly. “And you’re enough and more for me.”


Drawing Arm for Hire. Sketch Commissions: OPEN

I’m opening sketch commissions! Please read the full terms and conditions here: . And, after doing so, contact me if you want to commission some work.

Why? Why now after all this time?

Long story short, Monster Hunter World is a thing that I am interested in buying. There are a few problems:  “I don’t own a PS4″ being one of them. I crunched the numbers, and neither my day job nor my side job would be enough to let me make such a purchase any time soon (and that’s assuming that some emergency will swoop out of nowhere and completely wreck my shit). The only solution is more work.

I really love Monster Hunter. And, while I have no idea of what demand will look like, I at least have to try.

Why sketch commissions, though? Why not full-color pieces and all that jazz? 

Simple. To keep things manageable. My time outside of work is limited and erratic. Sketches are something I can provide reliably with a relatively short turnaround. I’m currently working on developing a more efficient and consistent process/style for handling color pieces, but that’s still a while off.

Only two slots? What’s up with that?

Minimizing opportunities for error. As I get more accustomed to the way these go, I’ll add more slots… Probably.

So, yeah. Commissions are now a thing. I’ll reblog this every now and then as a reminder when necessary.

Thank you.


Help him.

so I redrew this ask from wayyy back from the start of this blog… This was l literally my 3rd ask I think lolz

It’s been about a month and a half since I started this blog and I must say I’m pretty happy with how much both it and I have grown. This past month has been a roller coaster of discovering new styles and switching devices (my tablet broke so I had to use a phone for a while) did not make it any less hectic :P That said, now that I kind of have my face style down I’m gonna be experimenting more with colors, lighting, background, bodies, different face types, and a whole bunch of other things, so bear with me if some drawings take a long time or look like absolute shit. 

Thank you everyone y’all’re awesome luv ya u3u

Can we please get more Roadhog and Junkrat lore?

I mean, that’s insanely interesting, the whole Australian Outback being a nuclear mess. 

Plus…I mean, all of Overwatch is really more violent than its bubbly comic colors and cartoony characters look. 

There’s a lot of potential for violence, since it’s a fighting game. 

But the Junkers are…on another level. 

Like look at Roadhog’s fucking hook. 

and the other version of it

Like yikes, can you imagine this huge guy swinging that at you and BLASTING YOU IN THE FACE WITH A SHRAPNEL GUN?

He literally fires pieces of metal and shit at you, in real life that would be the most disfiguring, dangerous weapon ever. 

Plus, Junkrat’s own weapons are pretty inherently violent. His concussion mine is a MINE, they blow off arms and legs. He has a rip tire that explodes in people’s faces and instant kills anyone close enough. 

His steel trap would be messy in real life, it would bite through an ankle. 

So I’m very interested in the Junkers because the world they came from isn’t this pristine Overwatch futuristic world where everyone has clean prosthetics and fights with cartoon guns? 

It’s the Mad Max inspired irradiated wasteland that I guess the rest of the world ignores. 

It’s grimy, people are dirty and desperate to survive in an inhospitable wasteland and they do what they can with what they have. 

Like, I really wanna know why the rest of the world just ignored what happened there? 

And I want to know more about Junkertown and what Junkrat found that made him a target. 

And I wanna know more about Mako! 

He’s very interesting, I want to know what he was doing before the accident. 

I wanna see a young Junkrat or young Roadhog spray or skin. 

Just give me more lore, please, Blizzard.

221fandomwitches  asked:

hey, (sorry if you've already answered this) can I ask specifically what materials do you use? I've only done art with a pencil and pad of paper, and want to move onto colored sketches. also, do you use a scanner? thanks :)


The answer is, the materials I use depend on the day and what piece of art of mine you saw. I use a little of it all.

Like you, I started out with pencil (graphite and paper) like this one:

I moved out of that into colored pencil, like these (with a little watercolor thrown into that middle one here):

Some ink:

Then I pretty much moved into watercolor:

and now my more recent stuff is digital. But it’s still very new to me, so I’m messing around with it, seeing if I can change things up:

And every once in a rare while, I’ll use oil (But that shit is messy and I have nowhere to store anything):

So, don’t be afraid to mix things up! The only way to learn how to use the materials is to USE EM! And if you’ve never tried it, go for a little mixed media. Piece! So much of my stuff is done in more than one medium. This Cas one is a good example, cuz he’s watercolor, colored pencil, and ink:

And YES, I do use a scanner on all my traditional artwork, but if you’ve got a great camera and an eye for photography, you could just take pictures of it too. Sometimes I’ll throw some stuff up as a picture instead of a scan, because I think it’s fun :) 

I hope that helps! And happy arting!!!

E.V.O.L - Chapter 2 (Trixya) - VicThirteen

A/N: Hello! I meant to submit this earlier, but I prefer to post the chapters only when I have the next one ready, so it took a minute. Also, I’m a believer in building antici-

…pation to make every moment that little more special. Thank you so much for the comments, it makes my heart glow with joy <3

Keep reading

People in this fandom give Pudding way too much credit, they want Sanji to be super angry at her but like, she ain’t shit, she was never a important person in Sanji’s life so there is no reason for him to take what Pudding did too personal.

Like i still remember when the chapter where Pudding’s true colors were reveled and people were like “why is Sanji so sad, he just meet her”, but he was sad because after all the shit he did everything was for nothing, it wasn’t never about Pudding, but about himself and his stupidity x’D

Now he’s given Pudding the same treat he gives to any random woman he meet in each arc: a piece of his pervert side, that to be honest is everything she deserves from him, nothing more.

So, I watched the Death Note movie.

I have an unpopular opinion for you: I actually liked it.

Now, before you jump to my throat with this, hear me out for a sec.

I’m a huge DN fan, as you probably know if you’ve been following me for a while. I’ve read the manga and watched the anime several times and in several languages. I’ve watched about every live adaptation, including fan-made material. I cosplay. I write fan fic and opinion essays. I draw fan art. I roleplay. Blah, blah, blah.

So yes, I take my shit quite seriously, and I could hardly explain how much DN has changed my life. Then why the hell did I like Netflix’s adaptation?

Keep reading


a sartorial look at: chelsea daniels

its hard to forge your own style when your two ethnic friends have more flavor than you. after all, you are the token white sidekick who usually makes shit worse for our protagonist because you can’t seem to keep your big mouth shut. stylist sandy ampon looks like she put together color stories and scrutinized fabric swatches for raven and eddie, but when it came time to style some of chelsea’s looks, she handpicked the most elderly/maternity looking pieces section at the local unique thrift. that second looks just screams “i get a little turnt at bingo.” in the fourth photo, chelsea’s look is so hideous that the camera is actively trying to cut her off. she also appears to have those orthopedic athletic mules in multiple colors, rocking a red, white and blue pair at one point. how tackily patriotic. we must call our attention to the very last picture. our ms. daniels is wearing what i can only describe as out-of-touch-thirtysomething-middle-school-teacher-on-multicultural-day. note the white people khakis and those damn orthopedic shoes again. also to note in the last picture: raven slowly wondering why she chooses to associate with such a fashionless culture vulture and is actually missing her saditty older cousin who, although an asshole to her, could at least put together a decent ensemble.

This blog is more oso centric so I’m gonna say this here.
Thank GOD the show staff are different from the heso and tabi staffs bc Goddamn they cling to the joke of Kara getting shit on all the time like they have nothing else to do. Especially heso. It seems like with almost every new gold set there’s always one, sometimes two attacks where kara is getting hurt (usually by ichi). In tabi, ichimatsu is a complete piece of shit. Yeah kara is the bro that annoys ichi the most but damn I havent seen a skit where ichi cant just stand there without dissing kara. And dont even get me started on ugly flower girl. All of the brothers are losers game staff Please try to use your imagination more

Okay… it’s 2016. Can we stop pretending Frozen is the epitome of feminism and mental illness representation in Disney?

It’s not even a good blanket “mental illness” rep; it’s representing depression, maybe anxiety. It certainly isn’t helpful or representative of personality disorders or the schizo spectrum. And it had a super ugly message – if you’re just LOVED ENOUGH, if you just TRY hard enough, your illness will be managed and under control! – that many of us, including me, don’t relate to.

It’s not the first or only Disney film to depict mental illness or grief. (Hello, Eeyore.) Big Hero 6 and Inside Out also covered grief, depression and PTSD. But Big Hero 6, despite its diverse cast, was pushed aside so that Frozen could get merchandise out. Frozen still has lots of merchandise out while Big Hero 6 does not, despite fan desires. Is it “ableist” to point out that blatant racism?

It’s not “ableist shit” to want the princesses of color to be recognized because when Frozen came out, everyone screamed “feminist!!” at it, despite having no people of color and whitewashing Kristoff, who is based off the Sami people of Norway. A white lady with a metaphorical, not even literal, mental illness is not and will not be more progressive than women of color and their struggles (like Tiana or Esmeralda) and characters with actual mental or physical disabilities (Hiro.)

Like, Christ, it’s been three years we can stop pretending you can’t critique Frozen or else you’re an ableist piece of shit. (And for those who feel they need to know so they can cry ableist at me, I’m bipolar and psychotic spec.)

anonymous asked:

Is Cookie self taught or did someone teach them to draw and does Cookie like to teach the others how to draw too? Cookie having a bonding drawing session with Ben or something just seems really sweet to me.

this has garnered more interest than anticipated
1. self taught i guess?? yeah
2.nah cookie isnt like, serious about their own art stuff and definitely isnt one to teach anything drawing related

BEN..doesnt stuff. ben is more of a tinkerer and therefore more of a Schematics kind of scribbler….cannot draw a person to save his life, but ask him to draw some weird niche piece of equipment from old military junk and he’s Got it

ROSA and cookie however, would probably be the ones to hang out and paint, as rosa is a painter!!! she likes crazy ass colors too so of course cookie is Sold

cookie is interested IN art and artists (LOVES listening to artsy people talk about their shit) but The Fine Painty Arts are not really something they wanna like..actively pursue.. theyre more interested in MUSIC and ENTERTAINMENT, BABY!