I loved the recent Steven Universe episodes! Gotta love that development! And how could I not draw Cotton Candy Lars? I don’t know about you guys but part of me wants him to stick to his normal fashion and rock the pink look and another part of me wants him to embrace his new cotton candy aesthetic and wear cosy jumpers… that last part might just be me though.
I’ll probably post a quick speed drawing of this later.
This is a cosy ass jumper and I rly like this photo
(nearly didn’t upload cause my thigh looks big but it’s what I actually look like… I’m fed up of perching on the end of the bed and standing in uncomfortable positions to look thinner than I am. I like my squidgy thighs)
English revision in full swing! Annotating every text within my Paris Anthology for Paper 1 - not all today god no over the next couple of months.
I went to the Harry Potter Studio Tour the other day and they opened Privet Drive!!! I was so happy! and I shared a butterbeer ice cream with my friend as I nearly threw up drinking the butterbeer ahaha its so bad… also I think my most important purchases from that day was my ever so cosy and warm Slytherin jumper and my quibbler because I love Luna so much~
Top 10 one direction fics that you might not have read but I feel like you should.
Nice long title for you there, but a pretty simple concept. Ten fics that I love and that I don’t think got the love they deserved. I think all of these have a hits under 5k. I’ve also linked to peoples Tumblr’s where I have them =) So if you read the fics and want to hit them with some praise, GO FOR IT. (Or comment on Ao3, that’d be a lovely thing to do.)
Henry paced nervously outside her door. Two weeks. If had
taken him two weeks to do this.
Would she even care anymore? It had taken him two weeks to
just pluck up the courage to decide. Even now he wasn’t fully sure. But he knew
he couldn’t live without her. He couldn’t do this anymore. He needed her.
Henry tapped his knuckles against the door, listening
nervously as footsteps approached the wood.
Could he really do this?
Could he honestly look this girl in the eye and tell her his
“Henry” she frowned, tilting her head to the side
“what are you doing here?”
“Violet, we need to talk”
(Y/n) sat at her windowsill, drumming her fingers gently on the
hard wood. She had tried to stay away from it but she just couldn’t.
He would come, wouldn’t he?
The question had been running through her mind for two
weeks. And for at least an hour a day she would sit on that windowsill and
think about him.
Had she over reacted?
She didn’t know anymore.
She pulled back her messy (Y/hc) hair, tucking it behind her
ears as she turned away from the window.
She couldn’t spend her whole life just waiting. It was time
to let go.
He had made his choice.
She didn’t hear the crunching of footsteps as she chances
out of her pyjamas, slipping on a cosy jumper, leggings and fuzzy socks.
She trudged down her stairs, jumping the last one. She used
to always do it when she was little, it used to make her feel so proud of
herself. Like she could accomplish anything. It was such a silly thing to be
proud of, she saw that now.
Her feet barely brushed against the ground before the
doorbell rang. Her body froze, ridged with fear. Her parents weren’t due home
for hours. No one said they were coming over.
She played with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, walking
quietly so whoever was behind the door wouldn’t know she was coming. She waited
a few seconds, trying to decide whether to open it or not.
What if it was him?
Without a second thought the door flung open. Henry stared
up at her hopefully, his hands buried deep in his jeans pockets.
For a few moments neither of them spoke, both trying to
decide what they wanted to say. (Y/n) had been thinking about him and what she
wanted to tell him for weeks now. But as she stared back at the pained look on
his face, all of her thoughts vanished, as if they had never existed at all.
She had missed him.
He took a few tentative steps toward her, moving his hands
out to run them through her messy hair. He captured her lips in a quick kiss,
moving his cold hands to cup her cheeks, running his thumb over the sensitive
“I see you’ve made your choice” she whispered
quietly as they drew back. Her lips rose into a small smile, moving forward to
rest her head on his shoulder “I’m still kinda pissed though”
“I understand” he sighed, glad to have her in his
“Why don’t you come in for a hot chocolate?” she
suggested, pulling back slightly “We have lots to talk about”
“Only if you still have those little marshmallows your
mum bought in” he grinned.
“I make no promises” she laughed lightly, grabbing
his hand and leading him indoors.
knitted jumpers and cosy fireplaces.
electric fingertips, heart like lightning, a thunderstorm inside. tapestries of
rich colours. women wielding swords.
a firework display. sparks flying.
kalon unparalleled. myths and legends,
earthly gods, trickster demons. running
away to the woods. sly and elusive.
ripples in still ponds. foxes running
and hunting in the dark.
Chestnut, hamsterback, bark-but-not-bite, beige, chocolate, earth, mousebrown, thrush-down, senior common room, engine problems, russet, rental carpet, unassuming snake, that creek that is even now closing over your paddle, cocoa, chair, skin, sand, bad banana, sepia, 70s flashback, amber, burnt umber, burnt dinner, migratory stones, tea, coffee, peril trousers, sackcloth, flapjack, cardboard box, chipmunk-almond chunky mix, mud bricks, surprise bear, taupe, old rope, the speckled freckles of an old book, night falling on dystopias, cosy jumpers, hazelnuts, hay-nestled eggs.