hollistertwashere

[hollistertwashere]

my music taste as a palette

i am proud to say i listen to everything (or I try to)

i loveeee music

[hollistertwashere]

new pfp+ description

new pfp doodled by your truly😛

this blog is probably going to be an art + fandom dump blog

i might make a different blog for writing.. make it more fancy looking lmao

[hollistertwashere]

All my old south park doodles! Almost all of them were done in math😅

I think most of these were done in september-novemberish so theyre kinda old

had to dig these out of my binder lol

[hollistertwashere]

theres actually a secret third option

drarry 😌

sighhh

the daily debate of reading jegulus and/or wolfstar angst and tough it out like a big boy

or just readin comfort fics to soothe myself 😔

[hollistertwashere]

sighhh

the daily debate of reading jegulus and/or wolfstar angst and tough it out like a big boy

or just readin comfort fics to soothe myself 😔

[hollistertwashere]

Finals Week Sketches!!

Wolfstar My beloved🌕🖤

Probably going to finish the Arcane page over the weekend :)

Should I scan these and try to render them digitally??

[hollistertwashere]

kiss - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 296

They debated for a long time about how to tell James and Peter. Sirius came up with a lot of dramatic schemes and hilarious pranks, of course. But in the end, Remus suggested just….not telling them. Acting naturally and seeing what happened. And though Sirius was skeptical at first, he quickly realized how genius this approach was.

Because that night, as the four boys were getting ready for bed, Remus walked over to Sirius, gave him a long, slow kiss, and murmured, “G’night, Pads,” casually as could be.

And James? James looked like…well, like a deer in headlights.

“Did you two just fucking kiss?” he gasped, eyes wide as saucers.

Sirius burst into laughter. “Yeah. We do that now,” he said, voice blase. Remus snorted.

James blinked several times, looking to Sirius, then Remus, then back again. “You…you do that now? Since when?” he demanded.

Sirius and Remus exchanged grins. “Last night? We had…a chat,” Remus said, beaming. 

It hadn’t just been a chat, but that was beside the point.

“A chat, James replied weakly. Then, as if registering that Peter was still in the room, he turned on the shortest boy. “Are you seeing this?”

“Honestly, they’re so damn touchy with each other, it’s not that shocking,” Peter replied, shrugging. “As long as I don’t have to kiss any of you, I dead chuffed for you both.”

“Cheers, Pete,” Sirius grinned, climbing into Remus’s bed. “And nah, this is a party of two, I think.”

“Noted,” James nodded weakly. “Well, it’s about damn time, then. How long have you been drooling over Moony, Pads? Since at least fou–”

“Alright, goodnight everyone!” Sirius interrupted nervously, cutting James off before he could share anything embarrassing. Then, he yanked Remus into his bed and shut the curtains.

[hollistertwashere]

found these gems i cranked out 😛

[hollistertwashere]

Hi!

So this is my first post, but I thought I'd share it because I'm very proud of my work. I wrote this for my Journalism class, we were meant to be writing "This I believe" peices about ourselves. I honestly think I scared the poor guy with the brutality of this compared to not handing in any of my other addignments🙂‍↕️

Anyway, here it is, my first peice I've shared ☺️

Recovery

"I believe in getting back up"

I believe in getting back up. My entire life, there has only been one constant throughout it: the fact that I keep going. Maybe it's because I have to, maybe I want to, maybe it's my environment; it doesn't matter I still pick myself up and trudge ahead. I still manage to make it to the next day or end of the week; I get back up and keep going.

When I was little, if I fell I'd always have my dad or mum to get me back up and standing and when I did fall, it was something small: friend stuff, sibling fights etc. As I got older, the falls started to get steeper and rougher.

When I had just turned 13, seventh grade, I was admitted to the psychiatric ward. My thigh had a few open wounds and it hurt to walk or stand at times, but I got up out of my crappy hospital bed and continued despite it. My parents couldn't hold their arms out for me to grab onto, they weren't even allowed in past visiting hours; I had to pick myself up. I got up for myself and my family, I got up so I could go home and have my parents arms as support, or help my little brother when he falls.

Bouncing back was what I did. No matter what, I was always the funny loud friend who could rebound from anything, even if I was bruised from the fall. I got up every morning last year even though I almost died a few days earlier. I got up every morning this year even though I lost half my friends. Picking myself up is how I got through life. Sometimes you have helping hands and sometimes you just have to rough it out. But you get back up, despite it all, in hopes to help others maybe, or find others who will help you up. The many experiences I've had even if I'm only 15, have taught me perseverance and the art of recovery.

Now my knees are battered and bruised from what I've been through but I get back up anyway. I get out of bed, take it one step at a time.