I have been using a lot of the white WATSON watercolour paper for my comic project lately. The backing cardboard paper from those blocks has a nice grey colour, is really thick and stiff and has little texture so I started to wonder if I can paint something on it with my acrylic gouache.
I went for something grey, similar to my Akihabara painting, to make use of the natural colour of the board. This is based on a photo of a bus depot near our house, and to be exact the trash and storage area of the depot. I really like the old bus stop signs stored there and the contrasting buildings of a university in the back.
The board proved to be really difficult to paint on. When wet it’s colour darkened a lot so choosing colours was a difficult task. I had to use a piece of scrap white paper to test them all the time. But still this was an interesting experiment. I wanted to make use of the nice grey colour of the board but would use Gesso to prime it if I ever do it again.
Medium: WATSON white block backing cardboard (about 3mm, grey paper board)
If Brooklyn Nine-Nine gets cancelled, the news would hit co-creator Dan Goor like a city bus. (Too soon?)
Discussing the Andy Samberg comedy’s uncertain future with TVLine, Goor says that fans are “going to riot” if the Nine-Nine doesn’t return to active duty for Season 5.
“[Fans] are going to find the presidents of Fox and they are going to deface their houses,” he says with a laugh. “No, I’m kidding. Probably shouldn’t say that… I know I would riot. I would be very upset.”
Brooklyn Nine-Nine — which returns after a four-month hiatus on Tuesday, April 11 (8/7c) — is one of a handful of Fox sitcoms (including New Girl and The Last Man on Earth) that has not yet been renewed for the 2017-2018 season, which may prove to be a problem. Known for ending each season on a cliffhanger, it doesn’t sound as though Goor & Co. have any intention of tying up loose ends in the Season 4 finale.
“If you’re asking if we wrote a potential series finale, we did not,” he stresses. “We do not want this to be the series finale.”
Goor, however, remains confident that Detective Jake Peralta will not be forced into an early retirement.
“We’ve received a tremendous amount of support from the network, and I’m sure our pickup will be coming at any point.”
Prompt: Maybe you were the crazy one. What kind of person pretended to read a book while creeping on some random man at a bus stop?
Pairing: Lin x reader
Words: 4,721 (I got carried away…)
A/N: I am still debating on whether I should take a break from writing or if I should join the write-a-thon… I already have the ideas for some of the prompts, but I’m not sure if I have time to write and edit them. We’ll see! Sometimes if I am inspired enough, I can write a story in an hour or so. Anyways, I would like to thank @how-could-i-do-this ,@iwrotemywayto-revolution , and @imaginebeinghamiltrash . Thank you for being my soundboard, giving me encouragement to write, and editing. I was so close to scrapping the fic. I love you all and thanks for telling me that my writing isn’t as awful as I think it is.
You didn’t even have to stop pretending to read your book to know that he was here.
Every day for the last week, he would appear exactly at 7:30 A.M., ten minutes before his bus would arrive. He’d slide into the opposite end of the bench, coffee in hand and backpack slung over his shoulder. Then he’d sip his coffee and stare off into space, his knee bouncing up and down impatiently as he waited. Sometimes he’d come with a worn leather-bound notebook in hand or headphones in his ears; those were the days where the leg bouncing was the most intense.
Your weird fascination with him started the second you saw him. You’d been riding the bus for years now – partly because you were one of the few people that liked public transportation, but mostly because you found the inspiration to write when you rode the bus – and it was rare to see someone on this side, the “upper side” of New York City, use the bus. You were usually the only person at the stop, so naturally, your interest was piqued when he appeared.
He was a mess.
His hair was tangled, eyes puffy from the lack of sleep, and clothes wrinkled as if he slept in them. It was… not cute. He simply sat on the other end of the bench, not sparing you a glance, not asking if the seat was taken, and not even attempting to make small talk. He was so odd; you’d never met someone that was so out of touch with their environment.
But as the week unfolded and you noticed his little quirks, such as the leg bouncing and how he would pull at the ends of his hair when he wrote in his notebook, you began to look forward to seeing him, even if it was only for ten minutes until his bus came. He was interesting to observe.
You flipped a page and let out a noise of interest, pretending to have read something intriguing while you focused on him. Maybe you were the crazy one. What kind of person pretended to read a book while creeping on some random man at a bus stop?
Have you seen the video where the woodpecker hitches a ride on a man's car in Chicago?! So cute!! I couldn't figure out where to submit it to you but I thought you'd like it. The bird's behavior is also quite strange to me.
I have seen that video! But unfortunately, it’s not so cute– this video depicts a yellow-bellied sapsucker (Sphyrapicus varius), one of the few migratory species of woodpeckers in the world.
Like many migratory birds, sapsuckers breed in forests and rely on them for food to fuel their migration. And also like many other migrants, large cities create a “light trap” that can confuse them on their migration. Hungry and seeking food, this exhausted animal descended to a large city where it was unequipped to move around and perch: woodpeckers don’t have anisodactyl toes like most other birds, and are best suited to propping themselves up on a nice tree trunk.
From the sapsucker’s behavior in this video, it is clear that that the bird is either exhausted, or injured, or both. In the wild, sapsuckers can be more confiding than other woodpeckers– but not to the point where they’ll fly up to a city bus and rest there in front of dozens of commuters. It is also incredibly rare to see a woodpecker merely hanging like this; sapsuckers are especially active foragers, systematically checking their sap wells for sweet snacks or insects.
So, yes: I’ve seen the video, and I have a hypothesis I’m fairy confident explains the bird’s behavior. But it’s not a happy story: just like millions of other migratory birds that pass across the Untied States twice a year, this yellow-bellied sapsucker probably died unnoticed on a street or sidewalk.
For the whump prompts, nino/alya "You promised you werent going to be reckless! You promised!"
“You promised you weren’t going to be reckless! You promised!” Alya hissed as she tightened a compression bandage around Nino’s injured wrist. He winced but held his tongue. “You said you were going to stay out of the way.”
“I did stay out of the way! The way just happened to find my hiding place,” he replied sheepishly.
“Turn around so I can look at your back,” Alya commanded, ignoring his reply.
“Nino Lahiffe, turn around now or I will make you turn around and it will not be pleasant.”
“Yeah because this is so nice right now.”
Alya glared at him and he ducked his head, turning his back to her. She inhaled sharply at the deep claw marks torn through his shirt. “That damn cat,” she muttered, forcing Nino’s shirt over his head.
“It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t in control.”
“That excuse only works so many times.”
Nino sighed. “Al, you know Adrien would never hurt me on purpose.”
She leaned her forehead against the back of his shoulder. “I don’t ever want you hurt, on purpose or by accident.”
“I don’t particularly want to be hurt either but I think it might come with the territory of dating a superhero.”
“Maybe we should–”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Nino warned. “I told you before and I’m telling you now, I’m not going anywhere. Fox Miraculous or not, you’re my girlfriend and I’m not leaving your side.”
“But this could happen again! And what if next time, we can’t stop a controlled Chat Noir or an angry akuma or–”
“Or an off-road city bus or a drive-by shooting or a heart attack,” Nino added. “Babe, there’s always going to be something dangerous that could happen.”
“I can’t lose you,” she said softly.
“You won’t, I promise.”
“Your promises don’t mean much today,” she said petulantly, rubbing an alcohol pad across his sliced back.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is Elizabeth Eckford. This extraordinary woman was apart of Little Rock nine, a group of nine African American students who were the first black students to enroll in Little Rock Central High School in Arkansas in 1957. Here are a few words from Eckford about her experience preparing to attend her new high school:
From FacingHistory.org: “I was more concerned about what I would wear, whether we could finish my dress in time…what I was wearing was that okay, would it look good. The night before when the governor went on television and announced that he had called out the Arkansas National Guard, I thought that he had done this to insure the protection of all the students. We did not have a telephone, so inadvertently we were not contacted to let us know that Daisy Bates of NAACP had arranged for some ministers to accompany the students in a group. And so, it was I that arrived alone.”
"On the morning of September 4th, my mother was doing what she usually did. My mother was making sure everybody’s hair looked right and everybody had their lunch money and their notebooks and things. But she did finally get quiet and we had family prayer. I remember my father walking back and forth. My father worked at night and normally he would have been asleep at that time, but he was awake and he was walking back and forth chomping on cigar that wasn’t lit.”
“I expected that I would go to school as before on a city bus. So, I walked a few blocks to the bus stop, got on the bus, and rode to within two blocks of the school. I got off the bus and I noticed along the street that there were many more cars than usual. And I remember hearing the murmur of a crowd. But, when I got to the corner where the school was, I was reassured seeing these soldiers circling the school grounds. And I saw students going to school. I saw the guards break ranks as students approached the sidewalks so that they could pass through to get to school. And I approached the guard at the corner as I had seen some other students do and they closed ranks. So, I thought; ‘Maybe I am not supposed to enter at this point.’ So, I walked further down the line of guards to where there was another sidewalk and I attempted to pass through there. But when I stepped up, they crossed rifles. And again I said to myself; 'So maybe I’m supposed to go down to where the main entrance is.’ So, I walked toward the center of the street and when I got to about the middle and I approached the guard he directed me across the street into the crowd. It was only then that I realized that they were barring me, that I wouldn’t go to school.”
“As I stepped out into the street, the people who had been across the street started surging forward behind me. So, I headed in the opposite direction to where there was another bus stop. Safety to me meant getting to that bus stop. It seemed like I sat there for a long time before the bus came. In the meantime, people were screaming behind me what I would have described as a crowd before, to my ears sounded like a mob.”
Genre: Angst, Smut, and a sprinkle of fluff, pianist!y/n, AU
Word Count: 9.5k *high pitched screaming*
Summary: “Love is so short, but forgetting is so long.”
A/N: So. This is the second time I’ve rewritten it, have worked on this
version for three months and am fINALLY happy with the way it turned out. It
somehow turned grossly mushy at the end, but maybe that’s just the product of
my pent up bitterness from the hell that was Valentine ’s Day. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (partially edited, excuse the errors)
At the start, the phrase “It will pass with time”
was something you had clung desperately to like a life raft. Words not uncommon
to the hurt and heartbroken, you hoped such a miracle would apply to you too,
despite the fact that you were the one who inflicted the pain. Did God forgive
this form of self-harm? For three long years, you had foolishly believed in
such a concept. As you grew more preoccupied, thoughts of him faded with each
passing day, only to interrupt your transition to forgetting during the most
mundane of instances; getting stuck in traffic, or waiting on a laundry load.
The worst times were at night when you began to ponder the many what ifs; what
if you hadn’t visited him that day, what if Jimin hadn’t shown up that morning,
what if you had stayed? Just exactly how far would that have gone? When you
were plagued with such thoughts, you simply plugged in your earbuds and played
on repeat whatever piece you were working on until you could drift into a
fitful sleep. With time, it had gotten easier to forget your time with Jeon
Jungkook or to pretend to do so; to lie to yourself and others.
And then the night of your professional debut, the spell was
You haven’t seen him in three long years and it’s unfair how good
Hello, this is Ssamba. ^^ Are you guys doing well? It looks like the weather has been getting better lately. Spring is slowly creeping up on us~ Due to the nice weather, I went to Jejudo with my mom. I left on Tuesday, and I came back yesterday afternoon hehe I had a lovely time sightseeing. My mom’s hometown is Jejudo. So I’ve always wanted to visit at least once with her.