some ugly things


I remember the day I came to the rainbow room and you were gone. So, when my gifts were strong enough, I used them to escape, and I ran. I ran away as far as I could, and it was there, far away, that I found a place to hide, a family, a home, just like you and your policeman, but they couldn’t help me. So, eventually, I lost them, too. So, I decided to play the part, to stop hiding, to use my gifts against those who hurt us.

At a High Fashion Store
  • Harry: Eww, how can something this ugly be so expensive?
  • Draco: *looks him up and down* If all ugly things were cheap you'd be free of charge.
  • Harry: But...I was? It's not like you paid to get me lol
  • Draco: I pay every day.
  • Draco: With my nerves.

Okay but when I say I want to romanticise things that are seen as ugly by society people always reply saying “no normalise it make it normal” and like sure but like also bitch I really just want to look at my flaws and see art like I want poetry to be written about the cellulite on my legs and the stretch marks on my stomach and the hair on my upper lip like bitch let me feel like a work of art when I’m laughing and unaware of my crooked teeth or my double chin and when my skin is oily and my acne is bad. Like let ugly girls feel more than normal let us feel beautiful and extraordinary sometimes please

Ultra Dungarees Girls

Requested Otayuri prompt

Prompt: “Will your parents be proud of your gold medal?“
Pairing: Otayuri
Warnings: Yuri’s bratty mouth, hurt/comfort, sfw
Word count: 1,756

Another season, another year. Another competition in another city and a new gold medal hanging around his neck. It’s so new that his name isn’t even engraved on its backside yet. It weights against Yuri’s chest like he was born to win it, reflects the golden shimmer from his hair like they are one. Meant to be.

Yuri is proud, satisfied. The hunger inside him gone for the moment because all his efforts, all his hard work paid off. He’s no longer the Russian Fairy, the wonder child, the next Viktor Nikiforov. He’s Yuri Plisetsky - the ice tiger of Russia and his stripes are golden. The world knows that by now.

And everyone wants a piece of him. Including the press.

Yuri just turned 18. He’s blond and handsome, tall and athletic. His eyes are the colour of the stormy sea on a sunny day and his mysterious charisma is sexy and unpredictable.
At least that is the kinda bullshit they write in teen-magazines about him after they slapped his moody face on the front cover. Pissed of and rude is apparently the new interesting and desirable.
Which is only one of the reasons why Yuri hates dealing with the media.
Of cause he’s also grateful for the opportunities it gets him: Brand deals, sponsoring, advertising and modeling - a shit ton of money he can send home to his grandpa and spend on whatever the fuck he wants.

It’s the interviews he dreads. The personal stuff he can’t deal with.

He isn’t like Viktor. Viktor can happily chat with the media for hours without revealing the tiniest bit of his private life if he doesn’t want to. He can endlessly chatter and has everyone giggling and nodding in agreement. He’s a master of distraction and in the end half the spread is about Makkachin and every poodle in Russia gets adopted.

He isn’t like Chris who turns the tables around and makes the press-people blush and stutter. He can’t charm and flirt his way through every interview, making everyone drool until they forgot their original question.

And he certainly isn’t like Otabek who always keeps a pokerface, no matter how intrusive and rude the questions get. He couldn’t keep calm and cool like him. Otabek simply told the people if it was none of their business, that he wanted to protect his privacy. In a polite way of cause.

No, Yuri isn’t like them but he tries to be better. Tries to not snap and curse, to not throw a tamper tantrum anymore whenever he’s pissed of. He tries to act like a professional or like a grown up at least.

He still grits his teeth as the lady in the chair across from him asks one personal question after another. She’s not interested in his training or diet, doesn’t want to know what his next goals are and how he will surpass his own achievements. No, she’s very intrusive.
Yuri takes a deep breath, feels the medal move against his sternum. He can’t stand her, from her bright pink lipstick that stick to her teeth to her fake laugh, the look in her eyes reminds him of a shark he saw in a horror movie a while ago.

The journalist asks about Viktor and Yuri’s private life, which triggers something similar to protection inside of Yuri. She asks if he ever had a crush on Mila or maybe one of the hockey players at his home-rink. He huffs. She asks about his relationship with Otabek and wiggles her drawn-on eyebrows, looking over her shoulder at Otabek who is leaning against the wall just a few feet away from him. He’s playing with his phone while waiting for Yuri to finish up so they can go and grab something to eat.

Yuri glares at her, it’s getting harder for him to act like he doesn’t despite her and her cheep perfume that starts to hurt his head. But still, he tries to stay calm, grinding his fingers painfully into the armrest of his chair and giving her vague answers that she doesn’t want to hear.

Then she goes one step too far. "Will your parents be proud of your gold medal?“

Yuri’s blood runs cold. No. „Next question.“ He hisses out but now her eyes are gleaming and she won’t let die topic slide. Hot angers starts forming inside Yuri’s stomach at every new question she fires at him that is relating to his family. She wants to be the one to write the reveal of the Plisetsky-family-secret so, so badly.

She’s gonna be disappointed because Yuri is no idiot. He’s been skating alongside superstar Viktor Nikiforov for half his life, was a child prodigy to his home country that grew into another Russian athletic legend, he’s used to press and media. To be constantly watched and photographed.
His first kiss with a random girl was on the front cover of every Russian newspaper hours after it happened. The internet knows how much his cloths cost, which club he leaves with who and how he drinks his coffee. There are theories and gossip about his parents but he has never said anything to anyone besides Yakov and Viktor, Yuri doesn’t know if anyone guessed right yet.

The reporter doesn’t get her scandal story because Yuri snaps 20 seconds after she asked the question. Will your parents be proud of your gold medal? It’s echoing through his ears. What follows isn’t pretty. Yuri screams and says some ugly things, kicks his chair over and pours a cup of coffee over the notes the journalist had scribbled down during her interrogation. It’s probably all gossip and conspiracy theories anyways, this has nothing to do with figure skating!

Then Yuri storms out, his eyes starting to burn dangerously. Otabek follows after him, having watched his outburst.

He finds Yuri back at the ice-rink, sitting on the bleachers that are completely empty by now. They are alone, spare for a janitor that cleans up at the other side of the rink. Yuri has managed to swallow his tears but his expression is still grim, jaw clenched tightly. Otabek sits down next to him.

„I’m sorry you had to see that.“ Yuri says bitterly, not looking at him but staring at the ice.

„I’ve seen worse from you.“ Otabek shrugs and it’s true. Not that it bothers him, that’s what best friends are for. Right?

Yuri doesn’t laugh like Otabek had hoped. „That Bitch asked about my parents. If they’re proud of me.“ His voice is stained.

Otabek and Yuri are as close as they can get without becoming the updated version of Viktor and Katsudon and yet, Yuri had never mentioned his parents once to Otabek.

„I’m sorry.“ Otabek says honestly, not knowing what else to say.

„She wouldn’t stop prodding.“

„You don’t have to explain yourself, Yuri. Not to me.“

Finally he looks at him, his eyes full of anger and pain. „Don’t you want to know?“ He asks, almost as if he’s daring him.

Have I ever asked for more than you were willing to give? Instead Otabek answers: „I’ll listen if you wanna tell me, if you don’t then I won’t push you, Yura.“

Yuri swallows and looks like he struggles. Then he grabs Otabek’s wrist and unclasps the leather bracelet he gave him for his last birthday. He plays with it and doesn’t look at him when he starts talking.

„People think that there must be one big secret or scandal involving my family. That something tragic happened but the truth is much more sobering and uninteresting. I suppose it wouldn’t even make a good story or headline. Truth is that my father is an asshole and my mother a coward. I’m nothing like my Dad, he’s a big bulky Russian man with knuckle tattoos and a beer-belly. He’s very closed-minded and ignorant but my mother worshipped him for whatever reason. You can imagine his disappointment and disapproval when his only son turned into a prima ballerina, dancing around in glittery costumes and leaning alongside Viktor - king of the gays and shame to mother Russia - Nikiforov.
He practically disowned me. Now, I don’t know if my mother agreed with him or was simply scared of him, hell, I don’t even know if she wanted me in the first place.
I can’t remember either of them ever being very loving towards me or encouraging me. Fact is that they simply didn’t want me, they dropped me like a hot Pirozhki and left it to my grandpa to raise me. I can remember that my grandpa fought a lot with one of them on the phone but he couldn’t change their minds. I haven’t seen them in years. I thought they would come crawling back once I gained attention and made some money but nothing. I should be grateful that they are leaving me alone because no one needs people like that in their life but still … even now I’m not good enough.“ Yuri sniffs, angry that he still cares. Sad that he didn’t even had the chance to prove himself before they decided that he wasn’t worth sticking around for. „I don’t know if they keep an eye on me or even know what I’m doing but I know that they wouldn’t be proud, Beka. They don’t even care.“ His voice is small when he finally looks back up at Otabek and his eyes are wet.

„They are missing out, Yura. They threw away gold.“ Otabek says and doesn’t mean the medal and Yuri knows that, it causes his tears to silently fall from his lashes.

„I hate that sappy shit, Beka.“ Yuri says weakly.

Otabek ignores him. „You don’t need them. I’m proud of you instead. Your coaches are proud. Your skating family and rink mates are proud, so are your fans and thousand of strangers. Fuck them.“ He swears and wipes Yuri’s tears away.

This time Yuri does laugh because Otabek almost never swears and it’s delightful. „Yeah fuck them.“ He repeats and puts Otabek’s bracelet back onto his wrist. „I’m the motherfucking ice tiger and everyone wants a piece of me.“

„Do you know what I want a piece of?“ Otabek asks with mirth and Yuri shakes his head. „I want a piece of pizza. I’m starving.“

Yuri’s eyes go wide and the idea of the forbidden fast-food immediately cheers him up further. „Pizza.“ He moans and Otabek laughs.

„Come on then, golden boy. It’s my treat.“


“My father was called Ned too,” she said.
“I know. I saw him at the Hand’s tourney. I wanted to go up and speak with him, but I couldn’t think what to say.” Ned shivered beneath his cloak, a sodden length of pale purple. “Were you at the tourney? I saw your sister there. Ser Loras Tyrell gave her a rose.
“She told me.” It all seemed so long ago.

–Arya VIII, A Storm of Swords

(Happy birthday Celia ♥)

girls can get bees???

I don’t want to miss you (Newt x Reader) PART 1

Requested by anon:  Hey! Can you write an imagine where Newt and reader had an argument and in heat of the moment he said something really hurtful which made her walk out on him? And then maybe Grindelwald is kidnapping her as a bait for Newt and he comes for the rescue after which they make up and fluff? So basically like hella angsty in the begging and then super fluffy happy ending!😊♥️

I really wrote a lot so I had to slipt it up. Here’s PART 1! Enjoy!

Pairing: Newt Scamander x reader


“Can I help you?”

You stood behind Newt who was preparing some food. He had rescued three occamy-babys from an black marketeer last week. The little creatures needed good care and attention which Newt was willingly to give. At the same time he had also adopted a new creature. He studied the foreign species and nourished it, doing all this while working on his manuscript.

“No need, thanks”, the magizoologist mumbled, preoccupied.

You nodded to yourself, leaving the case by climbing up the ladder. You looked around in your shared apartment in London. There’s was nothing you could do, you’ve already cleaned every room.

You went to the bedroom, letting yourself fall on the soft mattress. A sigh escaped your lips. You turned on your left shoulder to face the empty space where Newt used to sleep.

The last time you two shared a bed was 2 months ago. Since then, Newt has been working non stop on his book. He luckily found a publisher, but the deadline they gave him was ridiculous. “I have no choice, Y/N”, he had said back then, “they are the only company that are willing to publish my book!

You snorted at the memory. You admired your boyfriend’s passion and ambition, but he took it too far. He never left his case, he would work from morning till evening or all night long, you couldn’t tell. You brought him tee and food and every time you saw him your heart broke.

Newt looked worse each day, exhaustion drawn on his face. He had dark circles, sunken cheeks and the glow in his eyes was long gone. You were worried about his well-beeing, but you there was nothing you could do… Nothing to get him away from work, even for a few seconds. Absolutly nothing you could…

“Wait…”, you said out loud, jumping out of bed and sprinted to Newt’s room.

You had an idea! Why on earth didn’t you think about that in the first place?

You looked for something in perticular, searching all the drawers and bookshelves until you found it: a small brown leather notebook. A victorious smile formed on your lips.


Newts soft voice appeared behind you, causing you to spin around and hiding the found object behind your back. You gave him a nervous smile.

“Yes?”, you responded innocently and Newt just walked next to you, looking for some papers on his desk.

It seemed he was too engaged in his thoughts to wonder what you were doing in his room. Your eyes studies his face. The dark circles got even darker.

“Darling…” Your hand caressed his shoulder in a soothing way. Oh, how you’ve missed touching him.

“Hm?”, Newt just hummed, collecting a few papers.

You bit your lower lip, intensifying the pressure of your hand and began to massage up his neck. You pressed your body against his back to reveal your intentions, just the scent of him made your inner thighs clench in anticipation. But Newt stepped back.

“Y/N, no! You know I can’t.” You crossed your arms, trying your best to hide the book.

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”, you snaped back, causing Newt to roll his eyes.

You waited for an answer, tipping aggressively your finger against your arm. Newt sensed your frustration, observing you through his messy fringe as if you were one of his creatures. A dangerous creature.

“Please, you know that I have work to do. I don’t have time for… that”, the wizard defended himself. He locked his gaze to the ground, somewhat feeling embarressed for turning you down.

“I know…”, you sighed, the anger now replaced by sadness and Netw took notice of that.

He stepped in front you, waiting until you raised your head to meet his eyes.

He then squeezed your hand firmly and offered you a weak smile before he left you, disappearing into his case for the rest of the evening.

“No… leave him alone…! No, NO!!”

You tore your eyes open, panting heavily as you realized it was just another nightmare.

“Jesus…” You sat up in your bed, wiping the tears away.

It was nothing unusual. Since you got to know that Grindelwald had esccaped from the Macusa, the same nightmare terrorised you almost every night.

It ended with Newt beeing killed and there was nothing you could do to stop Grindelwald, because you were a Muggle as the magizoologist liked to call you.

You tried to calm down, but it was sheer impossible in the dead of the night. So you decided to climb inside the case, seeking for your boyfriend’s comfort.

You weren’t surprised to see a dimmed light in his room. Newt sat at his desk, wrting on his manuscript.

“Newt…”, you whispered, your voice raspy from your sleep and crying.

A sight escaped Newt, but you tip toed behind his back, hugging him.

Suddenly the wizard jumped from his chair, freeing himself from your grip. You stumbled back but caught your balance in time, looking at him puzzled and hurt.

“Y/N, please, for once and for all: I need time for work!”

You were taken aback by the Hufflepuff’s harsh tone and it made you tear up again.

“I just want to see you, is that too much to ask for?”, you sobbed and Newt ran his hands through his reddish hair, massaging his temples afterwards in a frustrating way.

“No, love, no! But all I ask for you is to give me the time I need to finish my book!”

“But I miss you, Newt! I never see you!”

He fumbled with his hands between the two of you. “You see me right know!” You scoffed.

“Newt, that’s not what I mean! I miss beeing in a relationship with you, touching you, talking to you, laughing with you…”

“I don’t…-!”, Newt was interrupted by sharp loud squeaking noises.

The occamy-babys have woken up. He turned his head to their direction and looked back to you. Newt was torn between his creatures and you, hovering on his spot, but then he made a decision.

He turned his back and walked away. “Coming! Mummy’s coming!”, you heard his faint voice.

You stood there for a while, pulling yourself together before you returned to the apartment.

Newt had chosen his creatures over you, but you were not willing to give up on him.

You opened the notebook that you took from Newt’s room and it wasn’t long until you found it: a telephone number.

You grapped the receiver, tipping in the number with trembling hands.

Your heart was beating fast. This idea had to work. You had to take care of Newt.

You bit nervously on your lower lip until someone took up.


You smiled. It was Queenie.

“I’m so thankul and I really appreciate your help”, you announced in front of the small group. Tina, Queenie and Jacob gave you a warm smile.

“Sure thing, honey. How could we not? It’s about Newt”, Queenie said in her typical tuneful voice, making you feel sure about the whole thing.

You’ve decided to invite the trio over to London in hope to get Newt out of his case, enjoying some quality time with his friends.

It was evening and you’ve prepared a nice dinner together with the Goldtsein sisters. Jacob had baked some pastries for desserts. The whole apartment smeeled delicious and inviting.

You couldn’t remember the last time when Newt and you cooked and ate a meal together…

Queenie read your mind and put a hand on your shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay, don’t worry…”, she whispered and you smiled. “Thank you, Queenie.”

The food and plates were neatly placed on the table, a faint jazz melody was playing in the background. You lit the last candle on and finally eyed your work.

You were impressed by it.

“Well, I think you should tell your man about his luck”, Jacob suggested, an amused grin on his lips. You nodded and excused yourself. You walked inside your bedroom and opened the case.

You took a deep breath and tugged your hair behind your eyes before you stepped with your foot inside it.

Newt sat on his table, of course, wrtiting furiously on some paper. But this time he noticed your presence right away. He turned his head to you, eyes wide, then they turned soft as he stood up.

“Y/N, love…”, he rushed over to you and embraced your body firmly.

You were surprised by his behaviour. “N-Newt?”, you asked carefully, but the wizard just sighed , burring his nose in the strands of your soft hair.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, I said some ugly things that were inappropiate and I didn’t mean it and and… and I don’t want to lo…-”, Newt stumbled over his own words but you suhsed him by pressing your finger on his lips. He stared at you, his full attention on your next words.

“Newt, it’s okay. I understand that you are stressed, but I’ve got a surprise for you and I would like you to come up with me”, you explained

You could see a curious glint in his eyes, but gis gaze drifted behind you.

The magizoologist had to take care for his new adopted creature, it needed extra care due to his new surroundings and companions. But at the same time he didn’t want to ruin your concilitation.

So Newt nodded and grabbed your hand as the two of you left his case.

Barely out of Newt’s world, you guided him to the living-room while Newt laughed about your child-like excitement.

“Close your eyes”, you commanded as you stood in front of the door. “What?” You rolled your eyes, positioning yourself behind your boyfriend to cover his eyes with your hands.

“Open the door” You giggled as Newt tried to grab the door knoob blindfolded, but he succeeded and you both stepped in.

Tina, Queenie and Jacob behaved quietly as they tried their best not to laugh.

You pulled your hands away. “Open your eyes!”

Newt did as he was told, his eyes falling on his friends who cheered and threw their arms in the air. “Surprise!”, they yelled synchronously and walked to the puzzled wizard.

Newt didn’t say anything, his eyes still wide in confusion, but when Jacob gave him a friendly hug the Hufflepuff got back to his senses.

“W-What are you… doing here?”, he simply asked, letting himself hugged by Tina.

“Visiting you of course!”, she spoke for their group and Queenie was the next to give him a warm squueze. Newt was obviously overwhelmed by the whole situation, not able to form another sentence.

The evening didn’t go as you planned. You could see that Newt wasn’t enoying himself at all. In fact, he didn’t talk much during dinner, his eyes locked on his plate. You observed him while chatting with your guests and friends, but you saw how Newt’s expression got darker.

Queenie and you took the dirty dishes to the kitchen and from the corner of your eyes you saw Newt standing in front of the window, a glas of whisky in his hand that Jacob had poured him. He was standing still, the attempts of the bakery to start a conversation with his fellow friend unseccessful.

Then, Newt placed his glas on the table. “Excuse me”, he mumbled and rushed out of the room. Everybody watched him dissapearing and you knew where he went. You were angry. How could he behave like that? Even in front if his friends who traveled from New York to London just to see him.

“I’m so sorry”, you apologized, but Tina smiled. “It’s okay. Go after him”, she encouraged you and you nodded, leaving the group behind.

As you excpected the magizoologist was inside of his beloved case. You stamped on the wooden floor of his shed.

“Care to explain me this rude behaviour of yours?!”, you confronted him, but Newt didn’t turn around, he busyed himself with choping meat.

“Newt!”, you yelled at him, your patience far gone. That’s when he spun around and faced you with the most angriest expressen you’ve ever seen on him.

“I though you would understand me, Y/N!”

“I do!”

“No, you don’t! If you would then Tina, Queenie and Jacob wouldn’t be here!”

You tried to calm down, your body already shaking of rage. “I did it for you, I though it qould be a nice break for you to see your friends again! Get your mind free and..-”

Newt motioned you to shut up by his raised hand, his eyes were closed and his eyebrows knitted on his normally smooth freckled skin. He was trying hard to not explode.

“Y/N, what I need is time for work and not a stupid party”, he said through gritted theeth.

“Stupid party…?”, you repeated his words affected. “This STUPID party with your friends was supposed to help you!”

“I didn’t asked for that so don’t blame this on me!”, Newt hissed as he pointed up, gesturing to your visit.

“You know excatly that I can’t afford myself this much free time, I have a new creature to take care of and you forced me to stay up there with you! I do not see in any way how that was supposed to help me rather to stress me out even more!”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, fighting back the tears as Newt’s harsh words hitted you.

“So I’m a millstone round your neck?”, you asked, your vision becoming blurry due to the tears but you wanted to keep up your pride.

Newt seemed to hesitate. “Yes… Yes you are indeed”, he confirmed and you twitched a little.

He eyed you, waiting for you to say something, but when you didn’t he simply turned around and kept choping the meat.

“I have a lot of responsibility to take, but I assume you don’t know much about that…”, he mumbled to himself but you heard every single word.

He said it. You never thought that he would say it out loud, but here was the proof. The worst scenario you’d always imagined in your darkest times went true: Newt got tired of you. And by now he probably hated you. It was never your intention that he neglected his creature, you just wanted the best for him. But apparently you’ve choosen the wrong way…

“I see”, you whispered, tears streaming down your face because you didn’t hold back anymore. You’ve already lost.

“I wish you all the best for your life, Newt Scamander. I hope you will be finally happy without me”, you hissed and fled out of his case. For the last time…

You could hear Newt’s swearing far behind you. With all of your strength you threw the lit shut, stumbling out into the living-room just to get to the apartment-door.

“Y/N? What happened?”, Tina asked worried and stood up from her spot, but you didn’t pay attention to her. You needed fresh air, you just needed to get out of here, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You grapped your coat before you left the apartment, sprinting down the stairs. The cold night air mixed with your wet tears, making you shiver. But it didn’t stop you running. You had no destiny though, but you didn’t need one.

Newt hated you and now there was no one you could return to.

The streets of London were empty, everyone was sleeping peacfuly or spent a lovely evening with their friends and families.  You were thankful for the desertion.

You came to a hault after a while, your body telling you to take a rest. You panted and leaned against a wall. You then started to inspect your surroundings. You were in a rather dark alley, there were no street lights and you had no idea where you were.

Then, there were footsteps behind you. Far in the distance, but moving straight towards you.

Your body froze and you couldn’t move a single muscle. Your eyes widened.

“Well, who do we have here?”

You knew this voice. This dark and scary voice, the voice of a man that you were most afraid of. And now he was right behind you. The most wanted wizward in the world.




NOTE: I take requests! So send me some if you like :)

anonymous asked:

hi! i really love your art and its a big inspiration to me and i just wanted to ask you: is it a good idea to try and not bother with stylization until im more satisfied with how good i am at realistic drawing? im kinda scared that if i stick mostly to realist/semi-realist drawings im not gonna be able to develop a unique style later on. sorry to bother, hope you have a nice day!! ❤️

that’s a fair fear but mostly untrue! no matter what you do your own personal style will develop through your studies, it’s totally ok, and actually really good to double down on studying realistic stuff to learn proportions and color theory. when you learn the more solid stuff like that it becomes A LOT funner to explore playing with your style, making it more cartoony and stylized etc. I found tht the more you study a realist/semi-realist style the easier it is to simplify and play with the complicated stuff you’ve learned.

i personally always wanted a nice semi-realistic style, there was a time when i was stuck drawing some really ugly things bc i didn’t study more of the important stuff like proportions and stuff. 

i personally did a lot of portraits to learn how to render faces + color nuances better like 3 or 4 yrs ago?

no matter what you study your style will develop regardless of what you do :) if you’re scared of being stuck in a style you can always try drawing different styles of cartoons or whatever it is you’re interested in. those are studies too in a different way !

  • the darkling: is v interested in mass murder and world domination
  • also the darkling: likes puddings and pies