at least the colouring is nice

daily life of a digital artist:

  • is that a not coloured spot or a stain on my monitor
  • I didn’t save for at least 2 hours god is real
  • my playlist ended 1,5 h ago I’ve been drawing in silence this whole time
  • ‘ “asdf11.png” already exists. Do you want to overwrite? ‘
  • I resized this very part of a picture but now it looks too small so let’s ctrl+z ohMYGOD IT’S SO B I G
  • this idea seemed cooler yesterday at 3 am
  • I want to pee but right now I’m doing so well and if I go I will leavE THE ZONE
  • opacity 67% or 68% I can’t decide
  • well this pic looks nice //*flips it horizontally*// I regret having eyes
  • where the fuck is my pen
If I’m a Saint, Then You’re Heaven

Summary: Phil is less than excited to start his Sex in the Bible course, but he can’t bring himself to regret it when he meets a gorgeous angel dressed in all pink by the name of Dan.
Word Count: 11,068
Warnings: Lots of religious talk, homophobia, physical fight, smut
A/N: Hey guys! I wrote this because I was tired of people writing a religious fic where Phil continuously tries to get Dan to sin. So this came out, where they both respect each other despite their religious differences (With a dash of sex at the end). If you’re uncomfortable reading smut then no worries! It’s easy to tell when they’re going to get it on and it ends at the ’-’ and is very close to the end (: Lastly, special thanks to @insanityplaysfics for betaing this for me and giving me this entire idea! Also thank you @phandommother for helping me out with the idea as well and listening to me rant about it :’)
Title Creds: Cement - Citizen
Read it on AO3

-

Phil didn’t know why he decided to take the class. None of his friends were taking it and it honestly seemed like a lot of shit that Phil didn’t particularly care about, shit that didn’t really help him with his future career in any way. It seemed like a class that had a lot of reading, reading that Phil would probably never do, and let’s be honest, he probably only took the class because it had the word ‘sex’ in the title.

He walked into his Sex in the Bible class five minutes late on his first day.

The teacher didn’t bat an eye. Heads didn’t turn to look at him. Phil just sauntered in and stood at the back of the lecture room with his backpack slung over one shoulder while he scanned the room for a seat. Sometimes he forgot just how uncaring everyone was in university. He could just walk in ten to twenty minutes late and nobody would give a shit. Especially not in a class where there were over one hundred students.

(He didn’t understand why there were so many students in Sex in the Bible. They probably also just took the class because of the word ‘sex’).

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stealing kisses

I adapted your prompt a little anon, but I’m such a sucker for high school aus. plus it’s clexa con and ed sheeran’s new album is so romantic. 

Clarke and Lexa steal kisses from one another without their friends realising, or so they think anyway. 

listen to how would you feel 

“You have paint on your fingers.”

Clarke pulls away and Lexa watches as her nose crinkles, eyes narrowing even as a smile plays at the corners of her swollen lips. Her gaze is soft with affection and the ends of one of her braids tickles Lexa’s cheek when she leans back.

“Is that really what you want to say to the girl who’s making out with you?”

“It’s distracting,” Lexa draws up their hands from where they are tangled together at their sides and brushes her thumb tenderly over the flaking blue paint covering her girlfriend’s index finger.

“Distracting enough to stop me from doing this?” Clarke crowds against her again and Lexa’s eyes widen, darting up when Clarke presses her back into the bookshelf, their bodies close. Her lips skate over Lexa’s jawline, a ghosting touch and Lexa’s head falls back, barely catching the groan that trips out of her throat. 

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bringingyaoiback  asked:

How about Phoenix Wright hatches a plan to "seduce" Edgeworth in order to get some info on the case and it's painfully awkward but somehow Edgeworth goes along with it?

“Soooo, Edgeworth. Miles. Miles Edgeworth.”

The man in question looked flatly at Phoenix, peering at him over the rim of his glasses. “That is my name, yes.”

Phoenix leaned on Edgeworth’s desk, casual, closer than most people considered friendly but not so close as to make him uncomfortable. “Did you do something with your hair? It looks silkier than usual today.”

Edgeworth gave him a scrutinizing look, squinting at his face before turning back to his paperwork. Phoenix could never decide if he liked it when Edgeworth did that or not. With his piercing gaze it almost seemed like he was looking into Phoenix’s very soul, but there was never anything malicious about it. At least never when he did it to Phoenix. “Thank you.” The thanks was clipped, professional, like everything else about him. “I would ask the same of you, but your hair is just as unruly as usual.”

Phoenix scowled. His hair was not unruly. He had it ruled exactly how he wanted it. But if he got angry he’d blow his whole plan. “I mean it,” he said softly, sliding a few inches closer. “It looks nice. You always look nice, but today there’s just…something about you, you know?”

To his great surprise, the tips of Edgeworth’s ears turned the same colour as his coat. Holy shit, that worked? “Th-thank you.” Edgeworth cleared his throat and avoided Phoenix’s eyes. His face was steadfastly turned away from Phoenix, looking down at the work on his desk instead.

“Hey, Edgeworth? Miles? Is it okay if I call you Miles?” Phoenix reached out and put a hand on Edgeworth’s shoulder. Edgeworth nodded, still focused on his work. “Miles, then.” Phoenix leaned down a little closer. “Miles, we’ve known each other too long to beat around the bush like this. We both know what I want.”

Miles finally turned to face him, staring up at him with an open wariness in his eyes. His lips were slightly parted and his whole face was scarlet. Phoenix bit back a grin. The Chief Prosecutor, blushing like a schoolgirl. “And what would that be?” Miles asked, and to his credit his voice never wavered once.

Phoenix leaned in, bracing his hands on the arms of Miles’s chair, grinning from ear to ear. “I want the updated autopsy report.”

Miles’s face darkened and he shoved Phoenix back. “Get out of my office.”

“Aw, Edgeworth, come on!” Phoenix was not whining. “It’s not fair that you guys always get to have the important information and my kids are scrambling around to get any little lead they can. Just a little peek? Please? For old time’s sake?”

“Everything’s always ‘for old time’s sake’ with you,” Edgeworth grumbled. He turned back to his desk and pointed at an envelope without looking. “Take it and get out. And to think, for a moment there I actually thought you–” He clammed up before he could finish his sentence.

“You thought what?” Edgeworth remained silent, signing a document with an almost violent scrawl and slamming it onto a pile. “Miles, what’s wrong? I was just teasing.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

Everything went dark for a moment and chains lashed around Edgeworth, a large red lock slamming into the middle of it all. Phoenix took an involuntary step back, eyes widening. Whatever was bothering Edgeworth, he didn’t want Phoenix to know about it. “Miles,” he said warningly. “Talk to me.”

Edgeworth glared up at him. “It’s always teasing with you. I’m sick of it.”

Phoenix gave a wry grin, trying to diffuse some of the tension. “What, you want me to stop teasing and just kiss you already, is that it?”

Edgeworth said nothing, just stared intently at him. Phoenix’s grin wavered and fell off his face entirely. “Wait, is that it?” Edgeworth shrugged and Phoenix sighed. “Well you should’ve just said something. For a genius, you’re kind of an idiot.”

Before Edgeworth could open his mouth to reply, Phoenix’s lips were on his. And as he felt Edgeworth’s hands grab at his lapels to pull him closer, he heard the unmistakable sound of a psyche-lock shattering.

Laconic (Kuroo Tetsurō)

Originally posted by shouyou-sunshine

Summary: In a world where everyone’s first words to their soulmate are tattooed on their soulmate’s forearm, you are cursed with the vaguest, most simplistic tattoo in history. And you hate the word “hey.”

Genre: Fluff + Soulmate!au

A/N: This is my first fic for an anime and I’m not even an anime blog (whoops lmao) but I saw @lazyhaikyuu’s post and I just couldn’t help myself!! Enjoy the 2.8K words :)

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Another Mitjo fic!

It’s cute fluff this time (no horrible sad zombie AU which I hate but can’t stop thinking about.)

SUMMARY: Jonas is in his second or third year of marine biology at university.  He and Mitch live in an apartment together.  Uhhh also Mitch is making some pretty sweet dough from selling drugs by now???

A/N:  A lot of this is based off of personal experiences with friends taking me to clubs with them and such.  I outlined this in some sort of post-club stupor at 4:30am last week, and I guess I decided to actually finish an idea for once???

Also, this is my first time trying to write in present tense???  It feels super weird to do, but I hope it reads okay!

Anyways, happy Valentines Mitjo Day!!

@smokeplanet @mitjo  <3

Here’s uhhh, oh my god is this the title…

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anonymous asked:

I just saw Bird's ask about robots doing seasonal things... and I know you like gardens... can we please get some headcanons for MTMTE Ratchet, TFP Bee, and MTMTE Whirl doing some gardening with their s/o...

holy fuck yes this is my life, robots doing human things yes good SUMMER GARDENS  [@letsdiscussrobots​ this might be of significance to you]

Ratchet (MTMTE), Bumblebee (TFP), Whirl (MTMTE) (Mass-displaced)

  • Ratchet would love being outside with you in the warmth and sunshine. After being crammed on various ships for so long floating through space, it was nice to have his feet on the ground that wasn’t influenced by artificial gravity generators. He likes looking at all the bright colours of your garden’s blooms, asking you which are which so that he can learn about them more. He sits in the grass next to you, watching you pick some vegetables off of their vines so that you two can make a salad later! Ratchet is surprisingly calm and quiet and he realizes with a start that he… really doesn’t want to go back to the Lost Light. At least, not right now.

  • He starts measuring around your head and then asks you if he can pick some flowers. You give him permission, so he plucks up complimentary colours and weaves them together with lightning speed and accuracy, the swiftness of medic hands giving rise to perfect flower crowns. He perches it atop your head and beams at you, stunning you with how bright his smile was. He kisses you gently on the lips and helps bring you back to your senses… Right, you two were picking vegetables. Right.

  • Bumblebee would have the absolute best time with you. He’s just so stricken by all of the colours and life that this world has, it never fails to impress him at how much beauty exists on Earth. He’s already whirring and beeping at all of the pretty blooms he sees even though you two have only been outside for a few minutes. In the sunlight, Bee’s armour glows and it’s almost painful to look at, but the bees that fly around and inspect him seem to think otherwise. Bumblebee makes buzzing noises to imitate the sounds of the bees’ wings, optics spiraling excitedly to focus on the ones close to his face. He’d forgotten all about the garden at this point.

  • After becoming accustomed to the insects still buzzing around him, Bumblebee is actually extremely interested in what it was that you were doing. Harvesting? He’d never been given the chance to do that on Cybertron…! So he’s excited to help out. If you watch him, you’d notice that sometimes, when Bee finds a really good patch of crops to pick, his doorwings flutter and he lets out a string of happy beeps. You two have plucked the garden dry by the end of the day, with enough ingredients to make salads to feed the neighbourhood.

  • Whirl, though protesting the idea from the get-go, actually relaxes as he sets his sights upon your garden. He sees the insects and the stunning colours and the bright blue sky and even though he was overwhelmed a little bit at first, he comes to actually enjoy it. While you started harvesting foodstuffs, Whirl wandered off and got busy tending to the flowers and bushes. His claws proved to be effective as shears and he did two times the amount of work that you could in half the time with your own tools…! To Whirl, the intricacy of tending to flowers reminded him greatly of the skill and attention it took to make watches back in his pre-Empurata days. It made him… a little bit upset to think about, but it was okay. He was okay. Here, with you, right now, doing something that has made him happier than he’s been in a long time… it felt good.

  • By the time you’re done picking out the crops, Whirl had gone to pluck weeds. He turned the soil and tilled everything, revealing the black earthy dirt beneath it. You’d gone over to help and plant the new and delicate seeds in the moist ground while Whirl continued his work around the expanse of the garden. He wasn’t saying much of anything at all, and at one point he froze completely. You looked over at him, a little bit worried. There, crouching beside a rose bush, you saw him staring right down at a bird that had landed on one of the prongs protruding from the rim of his helm. He blinked and greeted it with a quiet “Hello.”
The Night Is Young (Brooklyn Nine-Nine AU)

pairing: Lin x reader

warnings: innuendos, mentions of drug trafficking, cursing

summary: Your sarcasm and Lin’s massive ego never worked well together. It also resulted in a bet on who can get more arrests in a month. If he wins, you have to go on a date with him.

DAY ONE, Y’ALL. I literally finished writing this 3 days before the write-a-thon started. The writing is ridiculously shitty because school is kicking my ass. This is very much based on Jake and Amy, who are 90% of the reason I believe in love. The other 10% is Mr. Darcy. Strap in, cause it’s gonna be a wild week.

words: 1,786

“Hey Lin, you wanna know what (Y/N) and I did last night?” Anthony said, smirking at you.

Lin turned to him and gasped exaggeratedly. “Did you get past first base?” He leaned forward towards Anthony, dropping his voice to a loud whisper. “Tell me, Ramos. What’s (Y/N)’s bod like underneath the sweaters and the sarcasm?”

“We tried playing video games with our feet. (Y/N) kept winning, somehow,” Anthony said.

“My hands were tied behind my back and I was still really good,” you added.

“My hands were tied behind my back and I was still really good. We found the name of (Y/L/N)’s sex tape, ladies and gentlemen!” Lin shouted, pulling off his leather jacket and propping his feet up on the table. You debated the pros and cons of flinging a binder at him, and you might’ve actually done so if Captain Jackson hadn’t walked inside the room.

“Where’s your tie, Miranda?” he asked.

“(Y/N) was using it last night,” Lin replied. Captain Jackson stopped walking and turned to you with his eyebrows raised.

“Careful there, Miranda, I just might use your tie to choke you to death,” you answered breezily.

“Kinky.” Lin winked at you then grinned at Captain Jackson.

“Stop it, you two,” he sighed wearily, already used to the two of you biting each other’s head off. “How’s the drug dealer case going? Jones?”

Jasmine shrugged, looking bored. “No leads.”

“Actually sir, I have a lead,” you said quickly, opening your binder. You saw Lin snap his head up to stare at you, but you ignored it with a small smirk on your face. “I found his address.”

“How do you know it’s his?” Lin countered without missing a beat.

“Don’t question my findings. I think I should go after the address alone,” you suggested.

Captain Jackson pondered this for a while, then shook his head. “Too risky. You’re not going alone.”

“Ha!” Lin yelled victoriously. “He doesn’t trust you enough to go after the address. So much for sucking up to him.”

“I can go after the address, just not alone, idiot. Is that not trust enough?”

Captain Jackson exhaled in irritation. “You know what, (Y/N)? Take Miranda with you. You two need to learn to calm down and work out your goddamn differences. I want this case solved by tomorrow.”

You and Lin turned to each other with wide, exasperated eyes and groaned at the same time. “Fucking hell.”


Lin was tapping his fingers incessantly on the steering wheel, humming along to an obnoxious pop song on the radio. You reached forward to turn down the volume, but he swatted your hand.

“So, (Y/N), it’s the last day of February,” he said conversationally. “Looks like I’m going to win the bet.”

“It’s my lead, it’s my arrest. I’m going to get more arrests than you and win this stupid bet, just so you know.”

You and Lin had a bet that had been going on for nearly a month. Whoever got more arrests in the span of a month wins. Today was the last day, and the two of you were currently tied. If he won, you’d have to go on a date with him. Which was why there was no way in hell you were letting him win.

After a moment of silence, Lin turned up the volume of the radio. He yelled along to Call Me Maybe, his ridiculous facial expressions drawing out a laugh from you. He grinned at you, delighted that he made you laugh.

“Sing along, (Y/N)! The night is young, and so are we.”


He parked the car a good distance away from the apartment. Silently, you got out of the car and ran towards the apartment. He followed right behind you.

“Is this his car?” Lin asked, stopping next to a beaten-down truck. You stopped running, pulled a poker out of your bag and lodged it into the lock of the car. You pulled, but it didn’t budge.

“Need help?” Lin asked, taking the poker from you.

“I’m pretty good with my fingers,” you replied, realising your mistake a moment too late.

“Title of your sextape,” Lin whispered. You glared at him, yanked the poker towards you and the truck door opened.

Lin immediately reached for the compartment drawer and pulled it open. It was empty. You climbed into the backseat and checked under the seats: empty. He checked under the front seats: empty. You grabbed your knife and made a hole in the seat.  

Bingo. It was full of plastic bags, filled with a white powder. “Gotcha,” Lin whispered happily. You got out of the car, locked it and walked towards the apartment.

“We just need to make sure if the car is his,” Lin said to you, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“I think he’s inside,” you whispered back, leaning against the wall. Lin cocked his head, listening intently for any signs, before nodding in agreement.

Stumped, the two of you were waiting for a solution to strike when someone yelled from across the street. “Hey, you! What’re you doing near my house?”

You turned to Lin with wide eyes. He pulled you forward and kissed you. Shit. Why was he kissing you? Why were his lips so soft? Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the man stop walking and roll his eyes.

“Young love. Disgusting,” he shuddered, pulling out his car keys. The beaten-down truck beeped. Suddenly, Lin pulled away. You were still reeling from the kiss, startled by the sudden heat in your cheeks, when you saw Lin run towards the man.

He took out his handcuffs. “Adam Simon, you are under arrest for drug trafficking. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law.”

You stared at him, furious. “I win,” he mouthed with a smirk.


“How was the case?” Jasmine asked, taking a bite of her sushi. Lin had submitted the investigation report to the Captain, and now the four of you were lounging around Jasmine’s table eating sushi.

“Nothing! It was all normal,” you said quickly, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

“Why are you acting weird?” Anthony asked.

A beat of silence. “(Y/N) and I kissed,” Lin said.

“No way!” Anthony and Jasmine yelled at the same time, staring at each other. Giggling like 5-year-olds, they got up and left to make fun of you.

It was just the two of you left. “It was for the case, right? No big deal. We’re just detectives who work with each other,” he rambled.

“That’s right, Detective,” you answered awkwardly, trying not to look at him.

“Catch you tomorrow, Detective,” he said, giving you an exaggerated bow and then leaving.


“Morning, (Y/N),” Lin said, holding two cups of coffee in hand. He handed one to you. You raised an eyebrow.

“Did you poison this?” you asked. He laughed, and shrugged wordlessly, taking a sip of his coffee.

“It’s coffee. When have you ever rejected a cup of coffee?” he said, rolling his eyes. You sighed. He did know you very well. You reluctantly took a sip. Man, he was good at making coffee. You continued drinking, chugging it down until the last drop.

There was a writing at the bottom of the cup.

WILL YOU GO ON A DATE WITH ME?
XOXO, LIN-MAN

You looked up and caught his eye, and he smirked. “Don’t think I forgot. I won the bet, (Y/N).” He pressed a button on his phone, and Call Me Maybe rang across the room. He dug out a box from his pocket and grinned at you.

“Can I take your silence as a yes?”

You closed your eyes for patience, wanting nothing more than to sink into the ground. “Yes,” you mumbled to get it over with.

“I can’t hear you!” he sang in a bad impersonation of the Pirate from Spongebob.

“Aye aye, Captain,” you said sarcastically, crossing your arms in irritation. Lin’s face exploded into a grin.

“She said yes, everybody!” he whooped loudly, eliciting cheers from everyone. He began dancing along to Call Me Maybe, yelling the lyrics at the top of his lungs and winking at you when it ended.

At lunch, Jasmine came over to your table.

“You’ve looked over to my table at least 10 times in the span of 1 hour. Is there anything you want to ask me?” she said.

“Nope.” You resolutely continued flipping through a file.

“(Y/N),” Jasmine said, grabbing your file and putting it down.

You stared at your table. Without looking, you knew that Jasmine was smirking like she already knew what you were going to say. Screw it.

“What should I wear for my date with Lin?”

She burst into laughter and ruffled your hair affectionately. “I’ll come over.”


You were wearing a blue dress that you hadn’t taken out since you bought. Blue really wasn’t your colour, but Jasmine said that it was Lin’s least favourite colour and you wanted to piss him off. You were strapping on your heels when your front door opened. Lin strolled inside your house like it was his own.

“Why didn’t you knock, you fucking asshole?” you said. The date hadn’t even begun and you were already annoyed.

Lin grinned, tucking his hands into his pockets. He cleaned up quite well, for someone who wore the same leather jacket to work every day. “It’s nice to see you in a tie,” you said with a small smile, leading him out your front door.

“It’s nice to see you in blue,” he answered softly. There was a sincerity in his voice that you had never associated with him. “It’s my favourite colour.”

“Jasmine, you sneaky prick,” you muttered under your breath. He turned to you questioningly, but you waved him off.

Once you got to his car, he opened the door for you. To say that you were surprised was definitely an understatement. “Where are you taking me, gentleman?” you teased.

“Somewhere. You’ll see,” he said breezily, getting inside the car and beginning to drive. He looked so relaxed when driving, it him look like he was going to fall asleep and crash the car any second.

10 minutes passed, and he was driving you down a street you didn’t recognize. “Lin, where are we going?”

He didn’t reply for a while. He turned to look at you and gazed at you, his eyes softening and a small smile appearing on his lips.

“Relax, (Y/N). The night is young, and so are we.”

4

wHO IS THIS

I feel like someone said his name at some point and I just didn’t catch it. Best BC Sol background character, LOOK AT HIS LITTLE BOWTIE

His Spriggan even kind of matches his colour scheme. Look, it’s grey and green too.

Not so quick, but still dirty nebula painting based on @kaijuslayer‘s q&d nebula tutorial. (Which you should read before reading this).


In essence, this is the same process, except that it is a mix of my three attempts at learning Jake’s technique. Which brought a few tweaks

All three attempts were slightly different.

  • The first was a “I’ll follow the manual” thing :
  • The second was a variation with another colour than black as a background, or more accurately, making a nebula without any background colour. This used a drybrush technique :
  • The third came back to the text book, albeit with a desire to have colours blend more. To that end it used a wetting-the-paint-on-the-model method.

Flyers are great, they have a lot of surface to play with to really give this wet technique the room to shine. On smaller models though, the results do not achieve the impression of deepness of this Voidraven, but it is still worth the effort, at least if you look at the model from a playing distance.

-

The models I’m painting at the moment do not leave any black deep-space areas. They were undercoated with Mephiston Red spray paint, which I still deeply regret.

I would like to emphasis the fact that these techniques will crush your spirit until the last phase, where everything comes together and no matter how shitty it looked during the process, it will in fact, turn out great. I remember almost crying out of frustration on my first attempt.

STEP 1 : Getting started and doubting

Like with Jake’s tutorial, haphazardly paint your models with two base colours. Deposit the paint on a palette, take a lot of water on the brush, drop it on the palette, mix a little, put the blob of paint on the model. Really wet it, but not as much as it would immediately run. Aim for that “round drop of water on a surface” as a limit, running is desired, but not just yet.

Switch to colour 2, do the same, you might not need as much water this time, you’ll have to be the judge of that. Here your bubbles will connect and the paint from blob one will move around, dilute, blend a little but never really mix into another colour.

You don’t want them to become another colour, at least not too much, here a little bit of purple-ish blue or red in a very limited area can be acceptable, but if it turns outright purple, just wipe it away from the brush/model.

Play with the water : go take some with your brush and drop it on the model if it doesn’t feel like fun/risky to do. Let it go where it wants, or not, try turning the model around or up/down to achieve desired effects.

Let dry thoroughly before next step.


STEP 2 : feels like you did nothing of importance

Same than step one, but with layer colours, be a bit more precise with what you do, but you still have room for happy mistakes. As explained in Jake’s tutorial, you do not want to just paint over the deep blue, you want it to overlap a bit, be a bit smaller as to give the paint the idea of gradient, definitely use less water, but still, have a really wet brush.

You should totally have a nebula image from nasa or w/e as a model while doing this when you first try it out, it helps a lot. At least until you become familiar with nebula techniques.

STEP 3 : feels like improvement, or ruining the model?

Keep at it, go for even more lighter colours. In my case I didn’t use more than two red colours (Khorne and Evil Suns) but did use 3 or 4 colours for the blue (Kantor, Caledor, Lothern, and White if you want to count that in)

Keep going smaller (or not actually, in some places it can achieve nice effects) if you are perfectionist to the point of painting a replica of a nebula picture to the letter, these aren’t considerations that will bother you.

(sorry no picture)

STEP 4 : feels like it might come together eventually.

Fun part, take a bit of one of your base colours in a small recipient (I use icecube-making moulds) with the brush add a lot of water. Mix and apply all over the area. See Jake’s tutorial for an image and explanation it’s the exact same step.

STEP 5 : stars and shit

I’ve gotten lazy (that’s my trait in painting because I really don’t enjoy painting, if I could get to my end result without having to pick up a brush, I’d be so happy).

On the voidraven, I did every star one by one. It was okay, its a big model it needs to look good. On my bikes and this batch, I’ve used a destroyed brush to do like ten little spots at once, but they of course don’t look as good if your aim is to have nice round and small stars. What I did looks different, but not necessarily bad.

I added little parts where I almost dried-brush the lighter blue, other parts I used a wet brush, you have to test it out to see what works best for you. Most of the time I don’t know what I am doing and hope it’ll come out okay.


STEP 6 : INK/SHADE THE SHIT OUT OF IT.

By now the model looks okay, but it can look even better if you just use a big brush containing a lot of ink (shade) in it. It will give the whole thing deepness and brilliance, as well as a certain fading, as if it was a real paintjob made by the space elves, rather than feeling like it’s a paintjob from a hobbyist nerdzor. 

I used an ink coulour that is not of the same hue as the earlier wash. In this case, I had washed with Khorne Red, so I opted for Drakenhof Nightshade as a finishing touch.


A lot of variations of these techniques will work. It is fun to try different things everytime or to have to find ways to adapt what you did on a 10cm x 5cm flyer hull to a 1,5cm x 1cm cape.

Just go for it :D get dirty!


anonymous asked:

remember when zayn said he only liked girls who were chunky in the "nice" places. and when he retweeted a meme where a bunch of guys were calling a girl a pig. and when he said he wanted an intelligent girl not one who likes makeup. and when he said the n word. and when he said that black people weren't victims of police brutality. and when he copied the album artwork of lil wayne and other black artists without credit. amazing.

Love, Bed And Breakfast - 3

Part 1  Part 2

3 days later you and Harry were still housemates. He had moved into the guest room and had actually, for the most part, stuck to the “No nudeness” rule. He had also given you your space. You had had breakfast and some dinners together, getting to know each other a bit better.

You found out that he was a photography student and hobby musician. He lived in London with three flatmates. And he was exhaustingly cheerful.

When you came to breakfast on the 4th day, Harry was on his phone, while pouring milk into his cereal.

“Yeah… alright, that sounds awesome!… Totally!… Brilliant. I’ll see you there.”

He hung up and turned to you with a smile.

“Morning, love.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes only a little. You had asked him not to call you ‘love’, or anything else like that, but, as most everything that annoyed you about him, he chose to ignore it.

“Morning, Harry. Any plans for today?”, you asked, getting eggs out of the fridge.

“Yeah, I was actually just talking to a friend about that. It’s a great day and the waves are perfect and so yeah, we’re going to the beach.”

You gave an acknowledging nod as you mixed the eggs with some seasoning.

“Soooo…”, he started, while you poured the fluid into a pan.

You turned, finding Harry looking at you with a massive grin.

You feared the worst.

“Wanna come?”, he questioned.

You bit your lip, concentrating on stirring the eggs.

“I don’t know…”

“Come oooon! It’ll be fun! You can’t possibly have anything more fun to do. And it won’t just be me, if you’re worried about that. There’ll be a few of us, I promise.”

You frowned.

“I thought you didn’t know anyone in Australia.”
Harry gave you his characteristic grin and shrugged.

“I make friends easy. So, what do you say?”

You sighed, thinking of the quiet of the museums you had intended on visiting. But then you imagined the sound of the ocean, warm sand between your toes and a lazy day, spent reading and eating and sleeping.

“Alright, fine. Guess the museums can wait another day.”

Harry just grimaced for a moment, then he smiled.

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So they produced a Miyoshi & Yuuki postcard that will be sold with these teacups…

Can’t help but think this picture resembles this one…

Only while in this one there was a certain confident atmosphere from both parties, in the new one… I don’t know, I get a melancholic vibe, as if it was meant to remind us that Miyoshi is going to die… ;_;

It looks as if Miyoshi is going to disappear the next time the wind will blow from the window… as if he were a ghost or something… and the view makes me think of Berlin so… Yuuki too seems sad/pensitive…

Oh well, on the positive side now I know which colour was Miyoshi’s coat.

Contrasts nicely with both Yuuki and Sakuma’s coats, which are black.

On a sidenote… well, at least they gave him a coat. He had none in Coffin so that even Miwa Shiro joked about it in one of his strips…

So I saw Dragon Cry

So, I saw Dragon Cry in theatres today.

To the surprise of zero (0) people, I was complaining the entire time.

Spoilers, obviously.

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dementedcat  asked:

4, Damian and Jason? I totally understand if you don't get to this one :)) thanks for doing this!!

4: sick!fic

Bruce’s shoulders are heavy as he walks upstairs. 

Alfred had left a few minutes before to run some errands, and had given him very firm instructions to head on up to check on Damian. He hates seeing his kids sick; it’s one of those inexplicable parent-things that he never would have anticipated before taking in Dick. 

Seeing them sick as adults is bad enough (here his step falters, and he cringes, makes a mental note to check on Tim), but to see Damian, small and pale and weak, breath wheezing in his chest, pains Bruce deep inside. A soft spot he doesn’t like to acknowledge or even think about. 

But days like today, he has no choice. 

And it’d be much worse, he thinks, for his children to be sick and alone… He stops briefly outside Damian’s door, already feeling the corners of his mouth pull down. He raps two knuckles lightly on the door, says, 

“Damian… it’s just me, I’m coming in,” and he doesn’t wait for a confirmation, because he isn’t expecting a response. Damian had been complaining of a sore throat days before his other symptoms, after all. 

And when he enters, his son’s room is dark. Heavy curtains thrown closed, lights off, the conflicting smells of stale air and fresh sheets. Clearly in spite of Alfred’s best efforts. 

There, standing in the centre of the room, is Jason Todd. In his arms is a blanketed-lump, a dark-haired head pressed into his shoulder. And Jason, looking up, shushes him.

Feeling off-balance, blinking, trying to reconcile the image in front of him, it occurs to Bruce that Jason was not shushing him. He was shushing Damian, and keeps murmuring to him, low, gentle. He hears the words ‘just Dad’, and ‘don’t move, it’s fine’, but the rest is too quiet for him to hear.

Damian, still in his pyjamas, weak and ill, his normally caramel skin an ash grey, shifts his arms. Clinging tighter to Jason, who just says, “I got you, akhi. I got you.” 

The boy is a good few feet off the ground, sitting on Jason’s hip like a much younger child. Hands gripped carefully to the back of Jason’s t-shirt. And Jason, he notices, is actually swaying slightly, walking in little circles, arms gentle and fully supporting Damian’s weight. Damian’s face is hidden, but he makes a small sound of discontent, and Jason shifts his grip. Pulling him closer, murmuring something in… Arabic?

“What’s going on?” Bruce says, finally. Voice choked.

And Jason looks up from across the room, frowns at him. Brow wrinkling. Like it’s obvious. Still swaying, shifting on his feet, one hand rubbing up and down Damian’s blanket-covered back, he says, “I’m minding the kid. Lil demon’s sick as hell, he needs rest.”

“… he has a bed,” Bruce says.

Then Jason looks at him like he’s an idiot. “He’s an assassin baby, Boss. Do you know how much it freaks him, to lie down in the same place for hours? He’s too weak to defend himself if he had to, and he can barely move.”

The boy makes another sad little sound, and Jason keeps pacing. Keeps rubbing one hand in circular motions over Damian’s back. Says, “كلشيءعلىمايرام” and “أنت آمن الحبيب,and he quiets. 

“We— we have an alarm,” Bruce says, because it still doesn’t make sense, the way Jason is gentle and sweet and kind with his enormous hands and his enormous shoulders– the hands Bruce has seen break bones, the shoulders usually stiff with the weight of guns and knives and anger– the way he moves like a slow-dancer, keeping Damian pressed against him. 

They don’t even get along.

And he remembers, suddenly, vividly, standing with Jason outside of Wayne Enterprises— it’d been windy and they were walking to the car, discussing a case, and the boy had said, grin wide and cocky, “Don’t worry, B, I’m great with kids.” 

Bruce couldn’t help but laugh, then, looking down at him in his rumpled school uniform to say, “You are a kid, Jay.”

The grin had turned immediately to a huff; “Barely. And I mean younger kids.” Then, “Back before, when my mom… just. Sometimes I’d help, with some of the neighbour’s kids in the building, like if they got sick or whatever. And, like, they couldn’t always take off work cuz their kid was sick, so sometimes I’d skip school, to, you know. Mind them and stuff.”

“Yeah,” the here-and-now Jason is saying, voice heavy with sarcasm. “Because feelings are always rational. Especially when you’re ten years old and have goddamn-pneumonia.”

And Bruce… shakes himself, takes a few steps forward. Quietly, “How’s he doing?”

Jason looks down at the boy, frowning slightly. Shifting his grip. “ ‘bout as good as you could expect. Poor brat.”

Bruce reaches out, rubbing a hand through Damian’s sweat-stiff hair. Alfred had helped him wash it yesterday, after they’d come home from the hospital. Bruce had had to piggy-back him from the car.

At his touch, Damian stirs, lifting his head from Jason’s shoulder; mumbles tightly, “Father?” 

He blinks tiredly, confusedly, at Bruce.

“Yeah, Damian,” he says. “It’s okay, just try not to talk.” And then, to Jason, “You want me to take over?”

Jason shakes Damian very gently, then, to get his attention; his head had already fallen back to Jason’s shoulder, his eyes closed again. “Hey, baby brat. You comfy here, or you want Dad to take you for a bit?”

The boy shifts effortfully, wrapping his arms more tightly around Jason’s neck. Hiding his face completely once more. 

And Jay actually smiles at that, says, “Uh-huh, okay.” A beat. “You know we’re gonna keep you safe, yeah?”

Muffled from Jason’s shirt and what has to be at least two blankets, Damian says, “… tuh.”

“Did you just try to click your tongue at me?” Jason asks him. “Jeez, you must be messed up. Don’t worry, your condescension is implied.”

And Jason makes another two short trips around the room, which actually seems to help help soothe Damian. He falls into a doze somewhere around the chest of drawers, the painful-sounding rasps of his breath slowing. Bruce just stands there, uncomfortable, unsure what to do.

“What time did Alfred say he’d be back?” Jason asks, after a minute. Quiet. 

“Less than an hour,” Bruce says, and Jason nods, like that’s what he expected. He explains, “Kid needs his next lot of pills at four, but I don’t know the dose.”

“I didn’t know you spoke Arabic,” Bruce says, after a moment of relative silence, broken only by Damian’s breathing and Jason’s footsteps on the carpet. 

“I don’t, really,” Jay dismisses. “Just a couple phrases I learned, when Talia. From when I was upset.” 

And that’s when Damian stirs, fidgeting uncomfortably. He pulls back far enough to see Jason’s face and gives a whine, says “Where’s Grayson.” and then sags again, clearly exhausted by his outburst.

“We’ve had this conversation a couple times already,” Jason reminds the kid, without heat. Rolling his eyes, but there’s a sympathetic twist to his lips, and his hand doesn’t slow on rubbing Damian’s blanket-covered back. “He’s on a plane, remember? He called us a few hours ago, when he was going to board. He’s still in the air now. And you know he’s gettin’ here as quick as he can.”

And Damian says something that sounds a lot like “Hrrrmmm,” sounding, for once, like a regular child his age, and doesn’t move.

Jay presses the back of his hand lightly to Damian’s cheek, then, frowning. “Hey, B? You mind getting the thermometer? I think his temperature’s back up.” 

And Bruce says, “Of course,” and is halfway out the door when Jason says, “It’s in the third kitchen drawer.”

“Thanks, Jason.”

“Sure,” he says easily, still pacing. 

And Jason’s back is to him, when he turns around. Pausing. His older son is keeping up a low murmur, half-Arabic, half-English, and his hold is exceedingly careful. Like Damian is something precious and fragile.

And this, too, is another thing he could never have predicted about parenthood; this feeling of awe and warmth, overwhelming pride. He knows his boys well enough to know they will never talk about this. As soon as Damian is strong enough to walk on his own, as soon as the colour is back in his cheeks, it will be back to constant insults and barely-contained violence. 

But for now, Bruce thinks, at least there’s–

“Nn… Todd?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Your accent’s … ‘ttrocious.”

Excuse you, demon. Jesus. You try to do something nice…”

– well, something there. Probably.

END.

⇢ slytherin!yoongi

part of the BTS x Hogwarts series.
for the other members: click here.
To track Slytherin Yoongi, follow the #slytherin!yoongi tag.

Originally posted by ky-ngsoo

  • I’m doing this because later on I’m going to be making a series off this entire AU post and so I just need to express my love for this idea
  • I’m a huge Harry Potter fan and have often imagined Yoongi as a Slytherin and so we’re going to go with it and with my idea and hope it goes places
  • VISUALS
  • Slytherin! Yoongi always had his natural brown hair but then he accidentally dyed it silvery blonde in third year after doing a potions spell wrong
  • But he grew to it and so continued to keep it that colour afterwards
  • His parents are rich and actually quite chill but he always had super nice and well made robes and a really good wand
  • His parents are, though, pure-blood and have been Slytherin’s for the longest time and expect Yoongi to at least keep up the family name and keep the bloodline pure
  • He follows this rule for around 3 years until you appear

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