Will 2015 Be My Anime Year? Will I Hangout With My Friends On The Roof Of The School? Will Someone Make

Let's go UFO hunting!

It’s giving “mom I threw up” stance

Messing around with random procreate effects on this doodle due to art block eating me alive and I feel bad for not posting

Anywayssss have a nice day

MHA Halloween Art Class B Redraw

(Late) Ha-B Halloween! (⌒0⌒)／~~

Spot the quirks :D (there's at least 5)

》—☆

Partly made this out of spite when they drew Class A (Jirou and Tokoyami) instead of Class B. THE POTENTIAL IN USING CLASS B!? So here we are :D

”You’re such a useless brother!”

a/n: Brothers au!!

Tatta Kodai sat stiffly on the faux leather couch in Nam-Gyu’s office, his hands folded tightly in his lap, his baseball cap now resting beside him like it didn’t belong in the room either. He’d come to the club to watch Thanos perform, maybe grab some overpriced drinks and soak in the neon vibes. Instead, he was being emotionally bludgeoned by a half-brother he never knew he had.

Across from him, Nam-Gyu leaned in his chair, legs kicked up on the cluttered desk, a blunt dangling from his lips, letting out slow clouds of smoke like he was exhaling memories.

“You ever been punched in the face, sushi boy?” he asked suddenly.

Tatta blinked. “What?”

“I said,” Nam-Gyu flicked ash into a ramen cup, “has someone ever hit you so hard you forgot your name for a minute?”

Tatta shook his head, eyes wide. “N-No. I mean, not—like—seriously.”

Nam-Gyu scoffed. “Figures.”

He stood up, pacing in a slow, loose circle. His all-black outfit hung off him like smoke, long hair tied back sloppily, eyes red-rimmed and hungry for confrontation.

“You’re too soft,” he said.

“I didn’t come here to fight.”

“Of course not. You came here with your anime morals and Pokémon heart to talk.” He mimicked a high voice, “‘Let’s connect as brothers, Nam-Gyu!’” He laughed harshly, then stopped. “You think that matters? Blood?”

“I think it could,” Tatta said softly.

Nam-Gyu spun around. “You had a father. I had Sang-Woo.”

Tatta swallowed. “I didn’t ask for that—”

“You didn’t have to! You got picked like a favorite dish off the menu, and I got left with the broken waitress and the bill.”

Tatta winced.

Nam-Gyu ran a hand through his greasy hair, frustration leaking out of him in waves. “You don’t get it. You never will.When Mom died, I was fifteen. Fif-teen. I buried her. Alone. And guess what happened next?”

Tatta didn’t respond.

“I got a one-way ticket to Uncle Sang-Woo’s House of Broken Ribs. Every day after school was another reminder I wasn’t wanted. You think I care about some family reunion just ‘cause we share DNA?”

Tatta looked down. “I didn’t come to take anything from you.”

Nam-Gyu scoffed again, turning to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He paused for a beat, then said, “You ever had someone tell you they loved you, then slap the love out of your mouth two seconds later?”

Tatta’s lips parted, unsure.

Nam-Gyu downed the glass. “Didn’t think so.”

The silence was heavy. Tatta looked like he wanted to apologize again, but he knew that would make things worse.

Nam-Gyu lit another blunt.

“You don’t have to stay,” he muttered.

“I want to.”

Nam-Gyu glanced at him. “Why?”

“You’re my brother.”

Nam-Gyu scoffed one more time, but this one was quieter. Less venom. His shoulders sagged a little.

“You’re lucky you didn’t meet Sang-Woo,” he said. “Guy used to beat me with extension cords for looking tired.”

“I’m sorry.”

Nam-Gyu looked away.

Tatta stood, carefully picking up his hat. “I don’t want to replace anything. Or fix anything. I just want to know you.”

Nam-Gyu didn’t respond. He was staring at the wall now. At a crooked photo of Club Pentagon’s first night open. Se-Mi was in the corner of the frame, sticking her tongue out and flipping the bird. He hadn’t even noticed her then. Now she was a permanent fixture—fiery, stubborn, kissed like a war and fought like a poem. They both said they hated each other, but somehow still kept ending up in the bathroom at closing time, shirts half-off and hearts full of static.

He didn’t want Tatta to know about her. Or about how badly he needed her after every argument. Tatta didn’t need to know what desperation looked like when it wore black eyeliner and fishnets.

“Fine,” Nam-Gyu muttered finally. “You can stick around. But don’t expect any warm hugs or shared childhood stories. You’re not family. Not really.”

Tatta nodded slowly, adjusting his hat.

“Okay.”

Nam-Gyu didn’t say anything as Tatta slipped out the door.

But when it clicked shut behind him, he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. His reflection in the office mirror stared back at him: tired, angry, lonely.

And maybe—just maybe—a little less alone than before.

Aib as cat owners part 1: the garden cats

Mira Kano was the kind of woman who wore secrets like perfume. Calm, composed, with a permanent knowing smile curling at the edge of her lips, she carried herself like someone who had already unraveled the mysteries of the universe—but found them vaguely amusing.

Dressed in her usual black—silky dress brushing her ankles, gloves snug on her hands—she stood at the window of their apartment, watching the clouds drift like idle thoughts. Her long black hair fell down her back like a shadow that had grown attached. She turned with sudden purpose, her smile deepening.

“I’ve decided,” she announced.

Kuzuryu Keiichi, sitting at their dining table, didn't look up from the legal document in front of him. His neatly pressed suit clung to his straight-backed posture, glasses reflecting the afternoon light. His brown hair was immaculately combed, of course. Mira often teased him that even in sleep, he looked ready to scold a witness.

“We’re getting a cat,” she said, and then, after a pause, with that theatrical spark in her eyes, “or two.”

He blinked slowly, still focused on the paper.

“No.”

Mira walked over, leaned in close, her voice soft and lilting. “But imagine… tiny paws pattering across the floors. Eyes like moons. Creatures who see into your soul.”

Keiichi glanced at her. “That sounds terrifying.”

She pouted, which for Mira meant slightly widening her smile and letting her eyes glisten dramatically.

He sighed.

“Mira…”

“Please?”

“…Fine. But just to be clear—I won’t scoop anything. At all.”

Victory shining in her eyes, she clapped her gloved hands. “Deal.”

They had no plan. No breed preference, no carrier, not even snacks. They simply wandered into a garden Mira “felt drawn to.” It was overgrown, a secret tucked behind crumbling stone walls and flowering vines. The air smelled of mint and old stories.

And there, sunning themselves on a patch of warm stone, were two cats.

The first, a sleek black female, was elegance incarnate. Her coat shimmered like polished obsidian. Her yellow eyes met Mira’s, and something ancient passed between them.

Mira knelt, breath held. “She’s perfect.”

The second cat was scruffier—a brown male with tufts of fur sticking out at odd angles. He looked like he'd been in a few alley fights and probably won most of them. When he moved closer to the black cat, his demeanor softened. He licked her ear once, then curled beside her like he’d always belonged there.

Keiichi, inexplicably moved, muttered, “…They’re in love.”

“They’re strays,” Mira whispered, her voice fierce with gentle fire. “They need us.”

“No,” he said. “No, no, no—”

She was already scooping the black cat into her arms, pressing her cheek to its head. The cat purred instantly.

Keiichi sighed.

The brown cat nudged his shoe and meowed once. Judging him.

“Fine,” he said again. “But we are not naming them something ridiculous.”

By the end of the week, the two cats—Midnight and Mochi—had made themselves at home. Midnight slept on Mira’s lap during long reading nights, while Mochi often occupied Keiichi’s side of the bed, despite the judge’s grumbling.

And sometimes, when Mira looked at them cuddled together on the windowsill, she smiled in that unreadable way of hers—like she'd solved another riddle in the human heart. Like everything had gone according to plan.

Because, of course, it had.

Now hear me out:

Have a lovely day/night

You are so absolutely correct have Them

That's how the scene went right?

“you dont wanna see me mad” ahh 🤣🤣🫵