such a happy me

Early Morning Soup

Hi hi everyone, i am absolutely delighted to announce @jaggedarchetypes wrote a piece based on this comic and its?? so good??? and once again im absolutely at a loss for words & im so very touched oh my god?? please read it under the cut he captured the feeling so well!!!!

For one who felt so exhausted, actual rest sure seemed to allude Hanzo Shimada. Midnight had him tossing and turning, one AM had him pacing, two AM had him outside jogging and walking, and three AM had him resigned to the fate of another sleepless night. But at least, if not a relaxed mind, his exercise had worked up a sizable appetite.

By three fifteen, Hanzo was showered, and by three thirty he was glaring tiredly into a pot. He’d sampled his soup perhaps a dozen times, but the flavor stubbornly refused to be like the one of his childhood. So, Hanzo sent out a text. Then one more, just for good measure.

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Now, I hadn’t planned to drabble this but it has been on my mind for hours nooooow!! It’s the start of Spring and lambs are allowed to skip around their excited hearts in the grass and there’s the small rows of ducks following in their mothers trail!!

Now guys, can you believe how Isak and Even took a walk today? Their hands joined together like super glue, spring-inspired lips and swimming stomachaches dancing in railroads all the way to their knees. They stop once a while, watch the lambs play tag with each other between their mothers legs. They hug and for the first time they hug outside and can actually feel it. Their arms so so close to eachother because the jackets are thinner and their hearts are that tad bit thicker.

But, it’s pink visioned on emerald green when Even looks up and sees Isak cross legged on the ground next to the lake. His jacket all falling down his shoulders but he doesn’t really bring himself to care. He looks so, vividly pastel around the new forming apple blossoms and Even’s heart blooms into the brightest fushia around his ribs. 

Because Isak is sitting there, jacket forgotten and light pants going green stained too, with the tiniest of yellow black ducks on his lap. Hes smiling that little bit, the way that breaks a scream to a tiny whisper, down and it just yaps happily at Isak’s fingers. Even hears him laugh ‘auwch’, like the way he does when he kisses him too hard or teases fingers around his bones, when it bites a little bit. 

And, god damn, Even wishes his eyes were a camera. Because if he could, he’d forever want to remember how the one that’s his started his favourite season with a chorus of birds chirping and all, without Even even needing to taste a bit of sticky sweet lemonade against his lips. 

anonymous asked:

What are your preferred pronouns, for those like me who for some reason assumed 'he'?

Take your pick! I am just a chick who likes to draw, write, and do all sorts of creative stuff. So call me whatever, just don’t call me late for lunch.

For me, the ultimate compliment is when people don’t actually know off the bat whether I’m a dude or a chick. I absolutely don’t mind disclosing my female status when asked, but seeing as it doesn’t really have any bearing on my creative works, I don’t see the need to bring it up that often.

I’d much rather be known as a “great writer” or “cool artist” than “great girl writer” or “cool lady artist”. Even better, I’d just like to be known as a rad human being. So when people don’t actually know, don’t really care, and are just assuming based off of whatever they want to assume about me from my works alone, I absolutely love it! 

With the massive variety of stuff I love to do, life’s too short to worry about what people call me: