couch portrait

2

Self portraits I’m super pleased with! Usually I don’t quite feel like I have a good grasp on drawing myself, but I think I finally got it 👌✨

anonymous asked:

"Kill him? Wait,what, literally?" Jily

  • James was sitting reading Witch Broomstick on the common room couch when the portrait door practically flew from it’s hinges. Sirius was day dreaming in the arm chair to his left, Remus’s nose in a book to his right.
  • He nearly threw the magazine into the flames of the fire he jumped so hard.
  • BLACK.”
  • James looked at Sirius who was sitting in one of the big arm chairs, Sirius looked at Remus, and then they all slowly turned their heads to look at the glowering Lily storming towards them.
  • “Hey there, Evans.” Sirius said weakly.
  • “Don’t you fucking hey there me you fucking-“
  • “Whoa, whoa- Lils, what’s going on-“ James started but was promptly cut off.
  • “He’s just gotten me a month’s detention, that’s what’s going on. A fucking month.”
  • “Wait, what?” Sirius’ brows furrowed, but James watched as realization dawned on him and he swallowed hard, “Oh… the essay…”
  • “Damn fucking right the essay!”
  • James knew he should probably be trying to calm her down, but he couldn’t help getting distracted by the way her chest rose and fell with her breaths.
  • “The essay you fucking copied! You fucking copied it without telling me! What were you thinking Sirius? And in McGonagall’s class too, I mean honestly.”
  • Sirius stood up, hands out, “Lils, I’m sorry, I- I panicked! Look-“ He edged around her, keeping a safe distance, “I’ll go talk to her right now, tell her you didn’t know. I-“ He gulped again, “Yeah. I’ll go now.”
  • They watched silently as Sirius practically sprinted from the common room, his foot catching a little on the portrait hole.
  • “Lils, babe, it’s alright he’ll fix it.” James stretched his hand forward, just reaching her fingers, and tugged lightly, “Come sit.”
  • Lily allowed herself to be pulled to the couch, huffing down next to him and letting her head fall onto his shoulder.
  • James tossed his forgotten magazine to the floor, much more enjoying the way Lily had picked up his left hand, fiddling with his fingers.
  • “Can’t believe him,” She sighed, “Who does that?”
  • “You know Sirius doesn’t mean these things. He just…”
  • “Thinks too fast?” Remus offered from his chair, not looking up from his book.
  • “Yeah,” James nodded, “yeah, that.”
  • Lily shook her head, “Fucking hell.”
  • The portrait hole opened again and they turned, seeing if it was Sirius. Instead, a extraordinarily nervous looking second year made her way over to them very slowly,
  • “Um.” Her voice was high beyond believe, “Lily?”
  • James’ heart gave a little tug at the way Lily’s entire demeanor instantly soften when she looked at the first year, offering a smile, “Yes?”
  • “Professor McGonagall wants to see you… immediately.”
  • The soft demeanor dropped from Lily’s face and she groaned, making the girl practically scamper away.
  • “I’m going to kill him.”
  • James couldn’t help but laugh this time, letting Lily slip from his side and off the couch.
  • At least, he was laughing until she drew her wand from within her robes.
  • “Wait-“ He turned, leaning over the back of the couch, “Kill him? Lils- Wait,” he looked back to Remus, “what, literally?”
  • Remus shrugged, unconcerned, lazily turning the page of his book.
  • James, however, tumbled over the back of the couch, scrambling to his feet and after Lily, “Wait, Lils! I want to watch!”


I hope this is okay! I really loved this prompt but I kind of had trouble translating it to the page from my head! <3

allkindsofkids  asked:

Prompt: Carol and Therese kiss and make up after their first fight. The honeymoon is over. Easy living?

On Madison Avenue (Mid-May)

On Madison Avenue, the heat was suffocating. Therese desperately tried to blame the heat. Like the hand of some enormous god, it weighed down on everything in sight. No amount of air-conditioning could help. But when she finally rushed out of the apartment and away from Carol, she knew it was not the only thing to blame. On the street, mailmen sweated through their shirts and secretaries fanned themselves with magazines. Therese did not see them. She had shocked herself more than she had shocked Carol, she was sure.

She had come home after eight long hours at Harkevy’s studio. They were working on a set for an Australian play, but the set itself was not working, and no one felt like doing anything to fix it, and no one but Therese seemed to have read the play anyway. She had tried not to raise her voice. She had left quietly. Then, on the way home, she had found a red cat by a fire escape between Lexington and Park, howling, shouting for her. It was one of those inexplicable things. It had seemed like the only living soul in the city that day.

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