my tag of stuff

i’d like to thank @therealjacksepticeye for making expression drawing practice so much more entertaining

these were all three minute sketches so they’re… not my best work. most of them turned out pretty well though!

anonymous asked:

I've never seen The 100 so I don't read your fics but I've read all of your poetry and the things about your writing that makes it so incredible to read is that you have all these lovely images of stars and suns and like, really big concepts but at the same time use them to describe nomal things and feelings and that just makes them so relatable and basically, your writing makes me feel like I am the most important thing in the world and also just as troubled as the next person and thats amazing

Jesus Christ, this is so beautiful. Thank you so much, thank you beyond words. <3

sutherlins  asked:

2 :P

(Whaaat, I wrote criminal minds fic :D) 


London settled her, leveled the her chaotic world after months of being thrown to the sky and crashing back down, forced to rise despite the bruises, forced to go on with a painted on smile and a heaviness in her gut that put a damper of overwhelming stress on every moment.

The FBI, the small unit of the agency’s brightest and silliest was where she had found a home, found late night drinks and light hearted banter; found people, friends who genuinely put that smile on her face, and she hated herself those last few months when somehow she was back to planting it on her exhausted features.

And God, she was ready for it to be real again.

Though really, between Garcia’s sobs, squeals, and crushing hugs, Rossi’s demands that she come by his home soon for spaghetti and plenty of wine, and the lack of Derek in the building, she was already sniffling more than smiling, but perhaps that could be expected, and definitely allowed.

“Is it too late to buy you a coffee? Or vodka.” The gentle, yet insistent question came from the blonde just in front of her new desk, currently bare, though Hotch never had many personal belongings in the building anyway.

“Inviting Garcia?”

“Definitely not,” JJ shook her head, hair swinging against her shoulders and tips of her finger shoved in the pockets of her black slacks. “She went home, prepping Sergio so he can ‘go home to his other Mama.’”

“I don’t have an apartment yet,” an edge of amusement mostly covered by faux exasperation filled Emily’s tone as she pushed a few files into a shoulder bag, determined to not stay quite as late as her predecessor.

"That’s okay, I think she wants joint custody.”

“I can work with that.”

The smile she wore for the remainder of the night wasn’t forced.

And neither was the warm hug JJ wrapped around her.