(or what you will)

The Curious Thing About AAART

I know this is gonna be random af but thanks to work i haven’t had much free time to sit down and open up photoshop to paint and by extension post art lately, so instead, I’ve started keeping a sketchbook cuz Git Gud. Anyways, it’s 3am as usual and i’ve binge-watched roughly 2 hrs worth of  art tutorials and art related youtube discussion vids, most of which touched on style and inspiration  (not intentionally but that’s where I ended up lol). Idk why, but i find it rather sad that so few of them make mention of how art should be an extension of you, and your likes and what makes YOUR heart race, or YOU smile as you draw. Most of the advice i heard, dealt with technical stuff like drawing only in pen, purchasing certain sketchbooks, supplies, paints, or how to fuel your imagination by collage-ing and keeping shit you like in your sketchbook, making things look nice, using post it notes over where you fucked up etc. 

On the matter of style, i hate this bullshit of ‘follow people you like, copy art’ and so on.  Because it focuses too much on the technical aspects of art such as edge-work, value, composition. Which is fine and dandy, I completely support distilling your TECHNICAL style from those aspects BUT I feel like style is something that should be organic and fucking fight me if you don’t think that’s how it emerges for gdi, 98% of artists. I find that my best work has been instances where I was elated to simply be drawing, the painting spoke to me and i incorporated items and themes that had always brought out dem feels in me. Imo that’s indicative of an artist’s TASTE which IMHO is AS IMPORTANT to good art in the long run as technical skill, cuz lord knows I’ve seen technically superior art that simply made me go ‘ehh’. And lord knows my art isn’t the bee’s knees and not everyone’s cup of tea but there’s a very distinct undercurrent to pieces that were made with the ‘idea’ that they’d look cool or would ideally churn up the ‘correct’ feelings in the audience, and artwork that’s made from a place of shear enjoyment and sincerity. Where no fucks are given if anyone else likes the thing you drew simply because YOU FUCKING LOVED DRAWING IT and nothing else matters. … Anyways I guess what i wanted to say, is that when i look back, i was always terrified that i put too much detail into my work and that my art would unavoidably suffer from it technically. Because you need detail in the RIGHT areas, edge falloff, lead the eye and all that, but the thing i kept missing is that over-detailing shit, was something that made my art unique. It was part of my ‘style’ whether i liked it or not. And it took me a long time to realize that i was using that detailing to tell a story, a sort of kudos/reward for those few who’d bother to look at my work for longer than a few seconds and be met with more detail, more depth that further hinted at the meaning behind the painting. It took me till now to realize i should have been nurturing that stylistic choice, rather than trying to stamp it out. :\

I guess in conclusion, the end goal should be authenticity. Because your art is an extension of you, and if you’re creating for what the masses want, well then, is your art still your own?

the karamel fandom needs to chill tf out. i love y’all and i’m very much on your side but y’all are causing more drama.. if someone has made up their mind about this ship, there’s no changing it. so why waste your time trying to explain why you like kara and mon-el? just chill. why do their opinions matter so much to you? you dont know them and they dont know you. so unless they’re bullying you and/or sending you anonymous messages that is out of line, then don’t waste your time with them. if you see hate posts on the karamel tag or on the mon-el tag, the block button is your friend. spend your day doing something that is worth your time and don’t stress yourself out for this shit because its not worth it. don’t make posts about the anti’s because really you’re just fuelling the hate more. 

anonymous asked:

i'm muslim and this Oscars is making me so damn emotional. like first muslim actor win, Iranian film winning foreign film, riz ahmed presenting an award, the Qu'ran being quoted in an acceptance speech followed by recognition of the Syrian refugee crisis... i'm honestly speechless. i'm just so used to feeling hated, this is a nice change of pace

god i’m so fucking moved by this message and i’m so so so happy that tonight helped you and your gorgeous faith feel visible, included, and celebrated. my heart aches to think that the feeling of being hated is your normal and i can’t even comprehend that that is the world that we live in. none of it is true–this country and this world and everything beautiful in it are just as much yours as anyone else’s, and i hope that you know that as much hatred and fear that exists in people’s hearts, there are so many others who see you and love you and stand in solidarity with you every single minute of every day. i’m thinking of you so much, and going to bed so happy that this award show (as silly and frivolous as it may be in the grander scheme of things) could put your heart at ease, if only for this night. wishing you happiness and peace <3 please take care xx 

“Moving Too Fast” - Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 744

Warnings: so much fluff you’ll cringe (its bad you guys)

Author’s Note: this is [cringe i apologize] for the song challenge for February! It’s based off of Moving Too Fast from The Last Five Years. The theme for this month was love/fluff, so here it is. I hope you enjoy it ;)

Lilly’s imagine

“And then, Mr. Stark said he would upgrade my suit and basically be my mentor! Isn’t that awesome!”

Peter heard you giggle on the other end of the phone. “That is awesome, Pete! I am really, really happy for you.”

His lips curled as he glanced down at the pink and white daisies in his hands, bouncing on his toes as he exhaled in content.

“Hey, you should go check your front door,” Peter smirked while he took a few steps back from your doormat.

“Whyyy…?” you intoned, the sound of you opening your door appearing through the phone. “What are you up to?”

Peter gasped, “W-what? Me? Up to something? Never!”

You shook your head with a grin before you opened your door, revealing a well dressed smiling dork in a suit holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Hey, Pete, I gotta go,” you whispered into the phone, “There’s some weird guy at my front door with flowers. I think he might be Spider-Man.”

He snorted before replying, “I wonder why he’s there. Maybe it’s because he wants to know if you would escort the lucky nerd to a party?”

You bit your lip and brought your hand to your chin, acting like you were thinking hard about it. “I don’t know, Pete. Do you think he wants it to be like a date?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said with hopeful eyes.

“Okay, I’ll let you know what happens,” you said before hanging up on the phone. Crossing your arms, you sighed and tilted your head to the side as Peter placed his phone in his pocket and straightened his shoulders. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Peter chuckled, handing you the daisies.

“Thank you for the flowers, they are beautiful. But considering I have been seeing someone for the past few weeks, I don’t know if I can accept.”

Peter shrugged and nodded his head, “As long as he treats you right.”

“He does,” you confirmed and leaned close to Peter, “He’s kind of a superhero.”

“Well,” he licked his lips and leaned closer to you so that your faces were inches apart. “Maybe I can change your mind.”

“I don’t know,” you teased, nudging his forehead with yours, “Maybe if you asked me to be your girlfriend?”

Peter laughed and closed the distance between the two of you while you wrapped your hand around his neck to pull him closer. His arms rested in the small of your back and you lifted your leg up behind you, leaning backward as your lips continued to move in sync.

He pulled away with a dorky grin, “(Y/n) (L/n), will you be my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip and wiggled your eyebrows. “When did you become so smooth, Pete? I’ve known you for quite some time and you’ve never been able to compliment a girl without stuttering. I applaud you on that.”

He chuckled and shrugged, clasping his hands together that were still resting on your back. “Will you just answer the question? I really like you and I’ve been waiting all day-”

“Well, I’ve been waiting five years, but you don’t see me complaining!” You said with a smirk.

“(Y/n),” Peter intoned, giving you a small puppy dog pout.

“Fine! I guess I’ll be your girlfriend.”

The two of you laughed and he kissed you once more. “Did I just hear an alarm start ringin’?” He hummed as you continued to kiss him. You pulled away and raised your eyebrows in confusion. “Did I see sirens go flying past?”

“Okay,” you began while patting his shoulder, “You good? Cause I don’t see or hear anything.”

I’ve just got this singular impression things are moving too fast,” he replied with a smile.

You furrowed your brows, “Like a good fast or a bad fast?”

“A good fast! I just didn’t expect all these good things to happen so fast…”

“Well,” you straightened your shoulders and rested your arms on his, “good things happen to good people. Just keep being the amazing, awesome hero that you are and who knows what’ll happen?”

“Maybe you’ll marry me.”

You choked, “Look, I like you a lot, Pete. But you just asked me to be your girlfriend. So, good job at being ridiculously cheesy right there.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

But he wasn’t. If only he knew that fifteen years later, he would be waiting in a tux down at the end of the aisle for you.

Requests are open :) // Masterlist


@that-sokovian-bastard @winteriscomingidjits @love-allthingsmarvel @rejectedmarvel @theflameofdeath @aoceli-writes @itsemmyb @tiaissoawkward @satanandblade @imaginesofevery-kind @queenmira29 @collect-happiness @satanandblade @tatortot2701 @kotoriotp @johnmurphys-sass @girl-next-door-writes  @zepppie @lovingmytelevision @harrysdoe @thespideyimagines @drac0stie @fangirlingisajob @this-is-menot-caring @theworkoftraci @avengerofyourheart @fan-of-loving @intheheartoftomholland @fly-little-butterfly @valerieshubin @wolfshifter4life

anonymous asked:

I'm going to cosplay as America-san at my school. Give me your all the tips senpai!i!i! (ノ´ヮ´)ノ*:・゚✧

Well if you really want ‘tips’ please don’t do this…

I get if cosplay makes you happy and you like doing it. But please don’t do it at school. Kids are rough man. Please don’t do it to yourself. Cosplay at home…or with your friends. You might think it’s a good idea now, but TRUST ME when I say it’s not! Kids are too mean and there’s no reason to put yourself through that.

anonymous asked:

IM 100% FOR LUCIEN AND TARQUIN and for Elain to be the best friend who gives the two thumps up when she sees them together.

yes, yes, yes….but also Elain being the best mate/girlfriend who fucks them up when she sees them together. this is also fun. 

naerial  asked:

Ieyasu with Tip of Toe please, just to max out the difficulty level hehehe. If not the waist would be lovely too! Please and thank you!

Anonymous: You’re amazing! Would love to see what you can do with Ieyasu and “tip of the toe”~

  1. Ieyasu + Tip of the Toe (worship/idolise)

It comes out like a snake, slithering past his lips and coiling itself around her chest. She won’t look at him for fear of giving too much away, but if he only knew what his voice did to her, chest pounding, the Archer of Tokai would not be giving her that particular look.

“Will you stop doing that?”

“Doing what?” she asks. And she really won’t be doing anything, perched as she is on the porch near his bedroom, legs swinging, his warmth close enough to set her alight.

“Do you think this is funny? Stop right this instant.”

His scowl sets her mind aflame. She doesn’t stop thinking just how delicious it would be to kiss that face of his. With no warning. To sling her arms around his neck and press herself into that chest. How irritated he would be as her fingers grope inside to feel the skin that binds his heart away.

“Kitchen wench.” His hand shoots out, and she’s thinking it will land near her face, or grasp at her arms, but it flies so off course and seizes her thigh, squeezing hard, that her body will shoot fireworks out of her brain for the sudden sizzle it elicits.

“I will only tell you one more time. Stop it.”


“Milord, perchance you’re distracted?”

And she won’t be able to stop teasing him. She puts a brake on her legs, and they slowly settle into a slight swaying, the motion soft enough to set her sandal bobbing up and down. With each back and forth, her kimono slides up revealing the most tantalising bit of skin; a roadmap of sin from her ankles up and up and up into the unknown.

She knows how it must look — absurdly distracting in that orderly mind of his — and the knowledge thrills her.

How dare you.” But it comes out too soft, too choked, too breathy.

“Forgive me.” She doesn’t mean a single word, not when her sandal goes flying off, arching not too far away into the garden against a spot of sunlight. In a movement that sends her pulse careening off a cliff she lifts her foot and settles it in his lap, gazing at him through lashes at once provocative and unrestrained.

Oh, she feels the storm. It won’t be coming from the sky, but billowing at her side. Electricity will spark off him, and she sees how he fights with himself. She can’t tell if he’s furious or aroused. Or furiously aroused. Her toes will curl in anticipation either way.

He lets her have it, that’s for sure, ranting and raving like the child she is so fond of, but it will escape him how her smile curves just a little higher, the amusement rolling into a wave before it bursts out of her in clipped tones, loud and giddy.

“You’ve gone and done it now. I will have your head.”

Her back arches in delight and she struggles for words. “You’d— Milord, you’d— You’d make a better case of it if you weren’t so— distracted!”

And he’ll look down and almost gag for how his hand will have moved from her thigh to her feet, fingers clasped around the pesky appendage and sending tickles all over. He looks so much like a lost deer. She doubles over, almost sending herself off the platform if not for his tight grasp around her toes.

Shut up.” 

She won’t. “Give us a kiss, milord, and I won’t mention this to Tadatsuga.” 

For all the huffing and puffing, and for all the good it does for him to glare at her, he will surprise her because she means a kiss on her lips, not the one he plants on her toes, soft and achingly warm, hair tickling the space of skin between her socks and the edge of her kimono. It shuts her up immediately, and a longing so fierce contracts in her gut. 

His look is hell itself. “If you mention this to anyone, dung beetle, I will–”

“–kill me, right?” 

And she won’t feel the pinch at her feet because her head will be rolling so far into the clouds he’ll have to reach up and bring her down himself.