though its okay

death-by-pickles  asked:

zenyatta in the "health" color palette would be cool :D

“Ah have you come to join me in my meditation, friends? I’m waiting for my student though so in the meantime let us relax.”


aAAAAH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST AGAIN DUDE!!! ;A; this color palette was so?? pretty??? to work with?? God ble s s ;^; 

anonymous asked:

Pidge is so precious!!! I love how you draw her, specially I love how fluffy she looks with long hair <3 I thought she would look stunning with that hair and a dress but, maybe she's not comfortable using one (but for some reason she has to), so everyone also uses one to support her :D

Wait.. what?

10

Sebastian Stan and the Tshirt™ for the Beauty Book (2011) (x)

So, serious talk.

How is anyone supposed to both have a full time job and be a solo 1d fan?

Like… how?

How?

8

Friends TOW In Massapequa (2002) | SNL sketch “Brazilian Bar” (2006)

“Click”

I’m probably going to ruin this with colour, so here’s the lineart to my latest drawing. It’s about time I drew these three together, and I’ve been having all the Hawke family feels recently. 

I don’t think I’ve ever spent this long on lineart before… I’m about 7 hours in, and I dread to think how long the painting is going to take. Thankfully my new tablet is working like a charm! I just wish my flabby hands would stop taking it upon themselves to rotate the canvas.

in which Eliza Danvers fucks up the Sawyers

AKA, turns out Alex gets it from somewhere


Maggie never expected it to actually happen, but she’d thought about it sometimes, daydreamed about it. But even in her wildest dreams, in her wildest most vengeful daydreams of running into her parents again, it never happens like this.

She used to dream about seeing them in the crowd for her high school graduation, or her college graduation, or her academy graduation, or her ceremony when she made detective, and they’d sob with regret and shame and she’d be magnanimous but a little cold. Or she’d see them as she sauntered down the street, hand in hand with a gorgeous woman. Or she’d run into them back in Blue Springs, after she just bought the town with all the money she won in the lottery and painted every street in rainbow colors.

But as each occasion passed without word from her parents, without seeing her parents, without hearing that they missed her or regretted what they did to her, those types of dreams faded. Now she thinks less about them groveling and admitting their faults and begging her to forgive them and more about turning her nose up at them, fucking them up with her disinterest and casual disdain.

Hey, a girl can dream, right?

In her daydreams now she’s with Alex, and she looks great and happy, and Alex looks just as beautiful as ever, and, depending on her mood, she and Alex either make out while pointedly ignoring them, or Alex yells at them, or – and she’s never admitted this to anyone – sometimes Alex wails on them.

But she’s never had a daydream anything close to the way it actually turns out.

Because she and Alex are out in Midvale visiting Eliza, and Kara is there too but had to run off on Supergirl duties, so it’s just the three of them today. And they’ve just finished a delicious brunch at Eliza’s favorite restaurant and they’re walking along the beach, and Alex is holding Maggie’s hand and is gently keeping her thumb moving, swiping up and down Maggie’s skin at the cadence of their feet in the sand. And Alex and Eliza are nerding out about something that Maggie can’t possibly follow, and Maggie is just watching the love of her life and watching the ocean and listening to the waves and feeling the sand between her toes, wet and cool and firm, and feeling the sun on her face and listening to the birds, and she’s so perfectly content.

They’ve been passing other people walking the other way on the sand, and Eliza usually raises a hand or smiles in greeting, but Maggie hasn’t been paying attention. But they must be approaching a couple, and Maggie’s been looking out at the ocean or over at Alex, so she hasn’t seen the coming. So when a surprised voice from right in front of her says, “Magdalena?” her first reaction is startlement.

But her second is fear.

Deep, cold, powerful, abject fear.

Her third is disbelief.

Her fourth is fear again, harder and faster and more urgent.

It’s all she can do to grip Alex’s hand, her soft grip turning into a vice, holding herself up and holding herself together only through the connection of Alex’s skin on hers, Alex’s fingers up against hers.

“Mom?” The word slips out of her without her permission. It’s not how she wanted to open, with a painful gasp that’s as much a word as a whisper as a plea as a cry. She hates herself for how vulnerable she sounds, how young she sounds.

How vulnerable she feels. How young she feels.

But in one way it’s a good thing, because now Alex can identify the threat that’s in front of her, and she seems to grow in physical size as she turns her head away from Maggie, fury and protectiveness swelling her body. She doesn’t release her grip on Maggie’s hand – she, somehow, impossibly, tightens it – but she takes a step forward. She isn’t blocking Maggie from their sight, but she’s clearly standing between them.

She’s full on Agent Danvers now, and she doesn’t need her gun or her tactical vest, because when she spits, “You have some fucking nerve, speaking to her,” it’s so clearly a threat.

And she can so clearly follow through on it.

But Maggie isn’t sure her parents have even noticed Alex. Her mother is staring at her face, and her father is looking at their hands, still joined, his lip curling up in something that looks suspiciously like disgust.

“I see you haven’t changed,” he says, and it’s the first time Maggie’s heard his voice in over fifteen years, and it nearly shatters her.

Alex is raging, taking another shuffle forward, her bare feet doing nothing to temper how ready for a fight she looks. She points a finger at them, and her shoes are still hanging from her hand, but she’s still terrifying. “You don’t get to talk to her. Ever. She is fucking perfect and you don’t deserve the right to even look at her.”

Alex is shaking, and Maggie is genuinely concerned she’s going to get physical. Maggie drops her own shoes, using her free hand to pull on Alex’s arm, tugging her back a step, into herself, turning her to face Maggie. “Baby, it’s okay,” she says as softly as she can. “It doesn’t matter.”

Alex opens and closes her mouth, clearly at war with herself. She wants to throw down for Maggie, clearly, but she can see that Maggie doesn’t want her to, and she’s stuck.

Her desire to keep Maggie safe, to keep her out of danger, to wrap Maggie up in her arms and shield her from the world seems to be winning out. She drops her shoulders, just a centimeter, and Maggie can see her eyes starting to clear, just the smallest amount.

But before she’s completely disarmed, Maggie’s father opens his mouth again, his voice cold and hateful. “You continue to disgrace your family, walking around like that where anyone could see you.”

And Alex is whirling back around, but she’s still tethered to Maggie, so she’s not as quick as she’d usually be.

But Eliza isn’t tethered to anything, and Maggie had forgotten she was there, and Maggie has never thought of her as particularly combative or badass – tough, sure, with what she’s been through – but never aggressive.

But, it turns out, Alex may have gotten it from somewhere.

Because Eliza has stepped forward, and she’s made a noise that has turned everyone’s attention to her, and she’s pointing her finger at him, and her voice is commanding and sharp and furious. “You have no right to speak to my daughter that way.”

And everyone stops for a minute, and it seems like even the waves have stopped crashing. Maggie can hear her own heartbeat as that word settles.

Alex is frozen in place, still a half-step in front of Maggie, still gripping her hand. Maggie wonders if she’s going to charge in, but she seems to waiting, just like the rest of them.

It’s Maggie’s mother that breaks the silence. “Magdalena is our daughter,” she says. Her voice is soft but firm, and Maggie wonders if her mother still loves her.

But Eliza is not having it. Her finger is still pointed, but now it swivels to Maggie’s mother. “You gave up that privilege the day you abandoned her when she was a child.”

Maggie’s father gets aggressive right back. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”

And Eliza laughs, actually out-loud laughs. It’s cold and angry and hard and scornful. “What don’t I understand? What’s it’s like when your child tells you that she’s gay?” She motions behind her, to where Alex is still standing, completely still, clinging to Maggie’s hand. “I love my Alexandra even more since she told me, since she brought us Maggie.”

He sneers at her. “This is a family matter.”

And Maggie hadn’t realized that Eliza had been holding anything back, but she must have been, because she shifts into another gear entirely.

She doesn’t take another step, she doesn’t move her body at all, but somehow she’s towering over him. The next words she says come out in a snarl, and they’re territorial and predatory as hell, and Maggie’s parents both take an involuntary step back.

“Maggie is mine,” Eliza snarls. “Mine, and Alexandra’s, and Kara’s. She belongs to our family.”

Maggie’s parents both sputter, and Maggie and Alex both seem to be holding their breath.

But Eliza isn’t even close to done. She speaks clearly and firmly, each word landing like a punch, leaving no room for argument or disbelief.

“Blood doesn’t make a family. Alexandra and I have known that since we adopted her sister when she was a teenager. Kara is just as much my daughter as Alex is, and Maggie belongs to us now. You don’t just get to claim her because of blood when you’re the ones who tried to destroy her. Maggie is perfect. She is brilliant and kind and that is despite you, not because of you. She’s a Danvers, she is my daughter, and you will never speak to a member of my family like that again, or so help you god, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

Maggie’s parents stand, shell-shocked.

Eliza turns away from them, like they don’t even matter. “Come on, girls,” she says, suddenly back to being the sweet woman Maggie’s always known. “Let’s keep going.”

Alex looks at Maggie searchingly, clearly trying to see if Maggie wants to stay and talk with them. But Maggie just shakes her head a little bit.

What else could she possibly say?

Even in her wildest, most private dreams, she was just trying to prove to them that she’d survived and flourished on her own, without them. That they hadn’t crushed her into dust.

She never even imagined that she’d have a family to show them, that she’d be claimed not just by Alex or a faceless hot woman, but by a mother who loves her and chose her and wants her.

So the three of them pick up their shoes and set off down the sand, this time with Maggie sandwiched in the middle. And Alex still hasn’t let go of her hand and is walking as close to her as possible, hip to hip. And Eliza wraps her arm around Maggie’s waist and just holds onto her as they walk.

And, for the first time in over fifteen years, Maggie lets herself lean into a mother, and she rests her head on Eliza’s shoulder, and Eliza kisses her head softly.

“I love you, Maggie. I am so lucky to have you as a daughter.”

And Maggie just nestles a little closer to them both, safe inside of her family.

Why can’t you love yourself?
I’m just a useless seventh wheel.

kinda vent kinda not this is a mess