i'm fighting for myself.

     a misguided kid with a hero complex and a taste for vengeance. affiliated with tgp

[freedomfought]

I wrote art and forgot what I wanted you to draw. Ignore that. Draw Asami and Jet bro fisting cause same fandom so they need to be bro's.

[freedomfought]

I REALLY DON'T KNOW WHAT TO ASK FOR BUT CAN IHAVE NARU IN SOME REALLY COOL 1920S CLOTHING JUST IDK BE CREATIVE I'M SORRY I JUST UGH CUTE DELICIOUS ART PLEASE

I AM LOSING STeam

[freedomfought]

whispers real quiet draw jet and reisi on the park bench together ouo

what a romantic night to be sitting on a bench with someone you marginally dislike

[herroyaldarkness]

Without looking, put a number between 1-42 in my ask box! [grab bag edition]

So you all know how these go, below the cut is a list of 42  RP prompts that came to me. If you’re feeling extra brave, reblog without looking! This list has a nice mix of shippy, non-shippy, fluffy, cracky, angsty, nsfw, and sfw and such forth. Who knows what you’ll get?  *Also gender and sexuality neutral!

Read More

[freedomfought]

swEATS UHM A LITTLE GRAY ONE IT DOESN'T REALLY MATTER FRIEND

HERE YOU GO!!!!!!!!! I DREW 2 THINGS…

[allseeingpage-blog]

His boots tapped against the ground as he walked, eyes examining the area around him. It was unusually cold out for a May evening; his breath even showed in the breeze. His movements came to a halt as his eyes fell upon someone sitting on the park bench. Reisi moved closer and plopped down next to them, leaning back against the bench. He let the silence stretch on for a few seconds before he began to speak. "It’s a bit cold out tonight. Maybe you should put on a jacket."

[freedomfought]

Jet's threshold for being in closed spaces is a lot lower than it should be for someone living in New York city, to be honest, and he finds himself sighing angrily at himself and lingering in any place where there might be a single damned tree than to sleep in his own bed.

But he'd be lying if there weren't some things about being outside that inherently bothered him. Strangers were one thing. The bench creaks under new weight and Jet, tall and skinny body slouched so that his ass is nearly off the bench just flickers his black eyes from the edge of the grass at the sidewalk. He looks like someone who, honestly, shouldn't be interested striking up conversation with some tired looking punk that's been loitering in a public space for probably three hours now. He's all long, beautiful, dark hair and shiny glasses.

Jet twists the stem of the straw in his mouth around for a bit, lips pursed. When he talks, you can hear the odd way his mouth shapes around the words, constricted as he clinches his teeth still partially. Whether he's playful or annoyed is unclear, though the corner of his mouth is curled just slightly.

"If this is your way of flirting with me, lemme do you the favor of telling you that it isn't working."

[freedomfought]

SEND ME "ART" OR SOMETHING FOR A DRAWING OF YOUR CHARACTER??

HEY HEY I THINK...MOST OF THE PEOPLE IN THE MASTERLIST ARE FOLLOWING ME SO?  or idk straight up send me a request if you have something in mind idk i wanna draw anime characters in cute 1920s clothes please

[freedomfought]

cliche shoujo moment #1

[musicaldove]

People rushed by, busily, busily, their faces directed towards their destination, their footsteps fast-paced and precise. To stop was to die, either by their schedule or by the protests of abrupt footfall behind you. Kobato viewed the steady marching, the monochromatic faces and grey colored clothes, from the safety of the sidelines; the subway bench. Here, she was free from the fast-paced current and free to roam as she usually did, to observe as she usually did, and to wonder, as she did, the different variations of people. 

Humming to herself a song from the orphanage, Kobato amused herself with sitting and watching. All these people were busy and to think of all the destinations, of all the lives and places, that this subway connected with one another was amazing. In the grey bowels of the city, the colorless veins of New York, Kobato watched the lifeless with bright eyes, believing innocently in their passion. 

"Hm?" A handkerchief, worn by time and faded to a light tan, fluttered from the pocket of a passing stranger. Compelled to stand as the sight caught her attention, Kobato found herself navigating into the crowd. Unused to their direct steps, the pinkette was slowed and shrugged off by hasty shoulders and elbows. "E-Excuse me!" She uttered, bending down to pick the material off of the floor. It had been stepped on several times but looked, otherwise, unscathed. Turning her gaze upwards, she tried to spot the retreating figure of its owner but found no one in the formless sea.

Determined to reunite handkerchief and owner, Kobato hurriedly ran to the steps, overestimating her ability to keep both a fast pace and her balance. Tripping forward, she closed her eyes and anticipated the all too familiar feel of the ground against her face. “Eek!”

"O-Ouch." Rubbing her nose, she could feel the pain fading when a voice sounded beside her. Gaze flickering upwards, she smiled brightly. "Yes! It’s alright. Kobato falls a lot. Thank you, Mister!" Taking his hand, she pulled herself up with some effort. Dusting herself off, she was reminded once again of the forgotten handkerchief. "Oh no! Their handkerchief!" Picking it up, she inspected the dirty cloth. She didn’t have time to wash it and she didn’t know whose handkerchief it was.

[freedomfought]

"No problem," he says first, smile still stuck in his voice.

But Jet's hands hang in the bustling air for just a moment in awe of being called "Mister" as she bends down and all he can see is the wide and gentle line of her circle skirt hovering over the grit and tile. Blinking, he turns his head to look into the subway terminal without thought for a second. Skirt hems and shined shoes are all he can see from here, muddled in the sound of a loud bell ringing.

The train is going to be here soon, but he snaps his eyes back to her sidelong.

"...Does 'Kobato' always talk in third person, too?"

Jet raises an eyebrow and the sound of a mild, lazy laugh can be heard in his talk. People shoulder past both him and the little miss, her head bowed like a rabbit (hands and nose small, hair soft). He leans slightly forward at the hips, chin tilted up and hands slid into the pockets of his slacks.

"If you're trying to return that, I think that ship's already sailed. No offense." Now, he looks her up and down, checking for scuffs-- and she seems fine, all the quirks aside. Really, he's kind of let down. She's cute, sure, but Jet can't say he's really into the innocent and defenseless types.

[freedomfought]

cliche shoujo moment #1

It's dusk. Probably.

Smog lingers over the skyline of New York, smudged in oranges and yellows-- and the streets are quieter, though no less full. People are tired now, coming home from their blue collared jobs in cramped spaces.

Jet is headed to Queens, dressed in ankle high houndstooth slacks held up by suspenders over a wrinkled white shirt. His mess of brown hair is matted in the back of his head-- he's only recently woken up from what he guesses was a .. two to three hour nap. The time gets away from him when he isn't, well, conscious.

It doesn't matter, really. The Colosseum doesn't enforce any sort of punch (ha) in time, so Jet ambles his way through the current of people and down into the bowels of the subway station where everything is lively again, noise amplified off the walls and then muffled against the people and all their stiff clothing.

Speaking of, there's this girl. She's covered up neck to toe in pinks and dark magentas, a shawl over her frame-- don't get it wrong. Jet isn't staring, hadn't been inspecting her or anything like that-- he's always been quick to take down the details, but the reason she gets even a mention amidst all the other frumpily dressed girls is that she fell.

She fell up the stairs, and now there is a small pocket of space where people walk around her with their long coats whisking at the edges of their calves. 

"You alright?" On one knee, Jet offers her his hands with both palms up. His coat is slung over his left arm, and he smiles unevenly. "You took a real big nosedive, there."