i don't like the colors but at least i did something lol

appynation  asked:

Prompt?: Lance comes down with an illness, and Keith is instructed to take care of him. At first, Lance is milking it for all it's worth, enjoying Keith having to do things for him and whatnot. But his condition quickly begins to worsen, and he really DOES need help, Keith just assumes he's faking it for more attention? I'm a sucker for the "don't believe them until it's too late" sickfic trope. :D

yeEESSSS yes

I’m drunk so don’t hate me if this sucks lol

“Keeeeith,” Lance whined, “I need you.” Keith rubbed a hand down his face. 

“I’m going to kill him,” Keith confided in Pidge and Hunk. “I’m going to lose my shit, and there’s going to be a white-hot flash of light, and Lance will be dead, and I will feel nothing.”

“Oh, go easy on him,” Hunk smirked. “He’s sick.”

“He’s got a cold!”

“A space cold,” Pidge corrected, “and he’s lonely. He misses his family.”

Keith sighed. “I know that. I just wish I weren’t the one in charge of babysitting, you know? I’m so… not good at it.”

“That’s what you get, Typhoid Mary,” Pidge teased. Keith had been sick last week with a nasty cold, and Lance had been the only paladin brave enough to risk getting sick himself to care for Keith. He’d had to admit that it was nice, at the time. Lance was a good care-taker, even if it sometimes got a bit overwhelming. He’d been freaked, Keith could tell, about what might happen with this unidentified space virus, checking Keith’s temperature every hour and forcing him to drink water and eat soup. The attention ranged from much-needed, when Keith was awake and miserable, to downright suffocating, when Keith was trying to sleep or relax.

“You were pretty whiny, too,” Hunk reminded him, “But Lance never complained about it.”

“You’re right; you’re always right,” Keith admitted, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. The red paladin steeled himself and entered Lance’s room.

“What do you need?” he asked. 

“Will you read to me?” Lance asked, looking suspiciously innocent.

“I’m out of here,” Keith decided, turning quickly on one heel.

“Wait,” Lance stopped him, “For real. I’ve got a really bad headache.”

“Go to sleep,” Keith suggested. He felt for his friend, he did. But there was no way in hell he’d read to him.

“It hurts too much,” he admitted. “My sisters always used to read to me, and it helped me relax enough to fall asleep.”

“It’s not going to happen, Lance.”

“Shiro said you were supposed to take care of me,” Lance definitely-did-not-whine.

“Yeah, he said I had to make sure you didn’t die. He said nothing about entertainment.”

Lance huffed, which turned into a fit of harsh coughing. “Fine. Can you grab me something for my head?”

“You just took it half an hour ago,” Keith said, feeling genuinely sympathetic now. “You can’t take anything more for another three and a half hours.”

Lance looked disappointed. “Oh, okay. Thanks anyway,” he muttered, rolling over in his bed to try to sleep. Keith turned his lights off on the way out.

Sitting down to the table once more, Keith let his body sag into the chair tiredly. 

“How did Lance manage to do this for a whole week? It’s only been two days and I’m tired,” Keith said.

“Lance really cares about you,” Shiro joined from the doorway, having overheard Keith’s complaints. 

“It’s not that I don’t care!”

“You wouldn’t even read to him,” Hunk argued. “Not even a little. He’s in there, in pain, unable to sleep, and you wouldn’t read him a story. He didn’t even ask you to do funny voices.”

“You know that he would have,” Keith fought weakly, but he knew that Hunk was right. He wasn’t as good a friend as Lance.

“Lance is just a natural caretaker,” Shiro offered. “That’s why he’s so sick now–he ran himself ragged looking after you, Keith. You complained that he woke you up every hour to check your fever, but have you considered that means he was up every hour, too?”

“And at least you were sleeping during the day,” Pidge added. “Lance still had to do paladin training.”

Keith was stunned silent.

And he wouldn’t even read to the kid.


Keith stood again and walked back into Lance’s room.

“Hey, Lance?” he tried softly from the doorway.

“Go ‘way,” Lance muttered. He was shivering violently enough that Keith could see it from the door. 

“I’ll read to you, if you still want me to,” Keith offered. He had to physically lock his knees to prevent himself from sprinting away from how much he did not want to do this.

“No,” said the lump of covers that was the blue paladin. “Just leave me alone.”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Keith tried.

“M’serious,” Lance insisted, “Fuck off, Keith.” 

Keith bristled at the language. 

“Look, I know you don’t feel well, but you’re being a baby,” Keith accused, stepping inside the room. “I’m trying my best.” He reached out and turned on a table lamp. Lance jerked away from even the dim light source, burying his face in the covers.

“Lance?” Keith called softly, uncertainly. 

“Turnitoffturnitoffturnitoff,” Lance pleaded, and Keith did so faster than he’d ever done anything in his life. His heart was pounding. 

“What’s the matter, Lance?”

“Head,” was seemingly all he could manage. 

Keith leaned in close to feel Lance’s forehead with his hand, and cursed at the blistering heat and uncomfortable dryness of his skin. Why hadn’t he made sure Lance was drinking water, as Lance had done for him while he was sick?

But Keith hadn’t been this sick. Like Shiro had said, Lance had run himself into the ground trying to take care of both Keith and all his normal paladin duties, and this was the result–he’d crashed and now he was burning.

“I’m gonna get Shiro,” Keith promised. Lance was shivering desperately still, teeth chattering. He didn’t reply.

“Shiro,” Keith cried breathlessly, sprinting into the common room. “He’s really sick.”

“What do you mean?” Pidge asked. “It’s just a cold; you had it, too.”

“I don’t know what happened to him,” Keith admitted, a pinkish tinge of panic coloring his voice. “His fever’s through the roof and I don’t know what to do.”

Shiro and the others followed Keith to Lance’s room, quarantine be damned. Lance wasn’t in his bed. 

“Where did he go?” Hunk asked to no one in particular.

“He’s in no condition to be wandering around,” Keith said. 

“If his fever’s as high as you say it is, he might be hallucinating,” Shiro deduced. “Split up. Call the rest of us on the comms if you find him.” 

Everyone took off in different directions in search of the blue paladin.

“He’s not in his lion,” Pidge supplied. “She seems really agitated.”

“She’s probably freaking out just as much as we are,” Hunk said. “He’s not in the kitchen.”

“Lance?” Shiro called. Where the hell had he hidden? “Come on out, buddy, we want to help you.”

“Guys, I’ve got him,” Keith finally announced. “He’s under my goddamn bed.” Lance was indeed sprawled halfway under Keith’s bed, looking like he’d passed out where he stood.

“What?” came a chorus of concerned voices.

“What’s he doing in there?” Shiro asked.

“He had a headache,” Keith said. “He asked me to give him something for it, but it was too early. The light hurt his eyes when I came into his room. I think he came in here because it’s dark and quiet.”

“Why yours?” Hunk asked.

“Lance?” Keith tried. “Lance, buddy, what are you doing out here?”

“Gotta check Keith’s fever,” Lace replied, a slurred, worrisome mess.

“I’m right here, remember?” Keith asked. “I’m all better now. You took good care of me.”

“I did?” Lance asked, blinking owlishly at the red paladin. He seemed barely able to keep his eyes open.

“Yeah, you did.”

Lance pressed the palms of his hands hard into his closed eyes, looking pitiful and pained. “My head hurts,” he admitted.

“I know, bud,” Keith soothed. “You’ve got a fever. I’m gonna take care of you now.”

We Don't Talk Anymore


Word Count: 1,055

A/N: I think I may do one for each member. Oooohhhhh 😍😍😍😍 I also intended for this to be longer but, oh well… lol hope you guys like it. *still can’t stop listening to his cover. You go Jungcook 😂😂😂😂*


The thin fabric held between his fingers was the sole reason he was feeling the way he was. It was a scarf she must have left behind. It still smelled of her perfume. How long had it been stored in his closet with the rest of his junk? At least a month now. It was soft between his fingers as he admired the blue color that seemed to always match her skin tone. He hated this. He hated that he had to find that.

He hissed as he tossed the fabric across the room. Wherever it landed would be it’s resting place. He didn’t care. The thought of her swarming his mind restlessly. It had been at least a month, maybe more, since they’d spoken. He wondered what she was doing. Who… He hissed at his own thoughts. Cherishing the time alone, in a room separated from the rest of his hyungs. He needed the space from prying eyes and concerned questions.

A hand ruffled through his hair as he fell onto his bed. His face buried in his sheets for a moment. But as soon as his eyes closed he saw an image of her face. He had sworn he would be with her for years to come. That they would always be two halves of one whole. But things happened. Words were spoken and… they fell apart. The way things ended between the two made it seem like everything was just a joke between them.

He rolled over and sat up on his bed. His head fell into his hands. He wasn’t sure why all of a sudden he felt so helpless. He was sure he had been able to settle his thoughts. But with the way he was feeling, he was certain he never truly got over it. He wondered honestly what she was doing. How she was. He missed just talking to her.

He pulled out his phone and unlocked it. He still knew her social media. They even had some shared friends. Maybe he could see something. Maybe.. As he stared down at his phone, he looked through their friend’s posts. She was with someone else already? He locked his phone and set it down. Was he a joke to her? Was their whole relationship something she could get over so easily?

He grabbed his phone and stood up. He pulled a sweater out from his closet before leaving his room and slamming his bedroom door closed. “Hey what the hell?” Yoongi asked as he poked his out from his room. “Why the hell are you making so much noise Jungkook?” Yoongi clicked his tongue before shutting his door. Jungkook couldn’t care at the moment. He was too intent on getting to her apartment.

He left the dorm and walked down the familiar streets that would take him to her place. Thankfully it was dark enough that just pulling up the hood of his sweater would disguise him enough. He could remember walking down the same roads before. Just to see her after a long day of practice. Just to hear her voice say his name. To see her beautiful smile light up at the sight of him. He longed for the feeling of her arms around him.

He was screaming on the inside. How did everything end up that way? How did she move on and leave him behind feeling that way? Did she not even love him back? He was almost certain she felt something… Maybe he was wrong.

He stood in front of her apartment building. He would need to be let in… How would he do that without needing to tell her? He needed to think of something to say before even getting to her apartment… Thankfully someone walking out recognized him from when he used to frequent her apartment. He got in easily and ran up the stairs to her apartment.

He took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock on her door. But for some reason he felt paralyzed. His wrist wouldn’t allow him to knock. He was frozen in place. What if she was in there with that guy…? What would he do? He would crumble into nothing if he saw him in there with her. He snapped out of his trance and knocked on her door. After a moment he heard her soft footsteps and the lock to her door turning.

When she pulled the door open, her eyes widened before her cheeks flushed red. He felt his heart ache inside his chest knowing that he was the reason that she had red cheeks. In an instant he had walked inside, closed the door and pinned her against it. All in one quick motion his hands were beside her head and he felt his heart racing.

“How… How did you forget me? Tell me. Tell me now so I can forget you too…” He breathed as his hands became fists. He couldn’t look at her. His eyes were screwed shut and he felt his heart pounding faster.

“Forget you…? Is that what you think?” She asked quietly. Her voice void of emotion as she looked at him. He looked so torn apart. She wished he knew that she felt exactly how he looked. Broken apart. How could he ever think she forgot him?

“Who is he then? In those pictures? Don’t lie.” He hissed. It was true. She had gone on a couple of dates with another guy. But it was to try and get over Jungkook. It ended up being too hard so she stopped seeing him.

“He’s not you.” She sighed. He managed to open his eyes and stare into hers. His right hand left the door and tangled into her hair as he set his forehead against hers.
“Why did we ever stop?” He asked. Her hand found his wrist and gently caressed it with her thumb.

“I don’t remember…” She answered honestly. He brushed his nose against hers before ghosting his lips against hers. His left hand finally pulled away from the door and tangled in her hair as he pressed his lips to hers. Her eyes fell closed and his followed. It felt like ages before they broke apart.

“Don’t look at anyone else. Don’t think of anyone else. Only me.” He breathed.

“Only you.”

get to know me 👹

lol omg so many ppl tagged me in this. i’m only doin’ it because @essiesims forced me to and i guess i owe her something for posting shiti on my dear bb boy santi’s birthday. (i’m holdin u to it b*tch)

1) Rules: tag 9 people who you would like to know better.

um i think everyone and their mother has done this already so if you’re one of those ppl who feels left out because you haven’t been tagged i tag u

i’m boring but if you want to know me i guess CLICK THIS

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Oh NaNa + Don't Recall + Rumor lyrics analysis

Most of the people like to analyzed mvs, but i realized (as many others did) that KARD has been telling a story throughout their songs, so i wanted to give my interpretation of this story. Plot wise this story is very simple and character-driven, the narrative is constructed in three acts (which i found interesting, i thought they would go for a Act I - Act III kind of story, like the ones short films have because of the simplicity of the story). It’s very easy to spot which ones are the key point in this narrative, but i will keep it short because i don’t want this to be a thesis lol

Let’s start with Act I, and that’s where Oh NaNa takes place. The song is the beginning of the story, describing us how the two people met and the emotions they went through are majority positives. We can be sure of this because the type of music also give us a clue, it’s very pop and dance-y (unlike the other two songs, that even though they’re still dance songs, the rhythm gets darker with each one) Also something i’d like to point out is the asthetic of the MVs, i’m not analyzing the music videos, but we can really see they also give clues about the story. Oh NaNa is a very dark MV, and I mean that literally. We can’t see anything, not even the dance moves. But the song is talking about meeting someone new and getting into a pretty passionate relationship. The dark in this MV represent that “i still don’t know you” kind of feeling. While in Don’t Recall, we can clearly see their faces and the shadows and even though they’re prominent, they don’t take the protagonism in this MV like in Oh NaNa. What’s more is that the dance part in Don’t Recall is completely white, there are no more shadows, the “i still don’t know you” feeling is gone and now everything is clear to the two people in the story. But the others part of the music video, like i said before, those have shadows which probably means there are secrets behind the new “I know you completely” feeling they have in the MV. It’s the contrast of white and dark colors that show us a little insight of what kind of relationship these two people were having. But when we see Rumor, we get again the same type of aesthetic we got from Oh NaNa, the shadows, the dark colors, probably representing the fact that they are strangers again and that they don’t know each other anymore, or at least as good as they thought they did.

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I forgot to tell you that I saw you last night, I couldn’t get a chance to offer the whole forest in my hand, I couldn’t tell you that you’ve been walking in my mind for the whole damn day. I’ve always wanted to sit right next to you, but you always seem not to care about people around you.
I still really remember you last night, you were waiting for something, but I knew it was really nothing. Maybe you thought I was quiet, or maybe my face wasn’t happy for you being around, but I was nervous, you make me feel these feelings I will never know how to explain, I was afraid to mess up, afraid to ask you things, I’ve always been really scared about what my face could draw when you start looking at me.
It was exciting to finally meet you, I don’t understand why you were just right there and didn’t warn the flames in me.
It was like you were there, I was here, I saw you, you knew I was a little bit closer to you, like clouds slowly crying, thunder has been the sound in my chest, you were bringing that kind of lightning which runs in every inch of my skin.
I don’t know what do you want, you never did treat me like a shit, you treat me like it’s not wrong, but it will never be alright! you’re not nice, you’re not bad, but I always knew you were a little unattainable.
Like an ordinary night, reaching for the stars, barefoot on the grass, telling secrets to the moon, wishing it could send a letter from me to you, the only different thing was the words I’ve felt, like flashes from a camera, captured the perfect flaws and I decided to keep them inside the bottle, I swear I’ll never get tired to admire you, I won’t be the knife in your bed, I’ll be the pen to your empty paper.
I knew it! these abstract aesthetics you created in my head are the reasons why I don’t get it. Your door, always open but I’m not sure if it’s for me.
That night, I’ve felt the cold air from the outside, I’ve forgotten to close the windows in my room, I told myself that I’ve had enough. You were lying, you were making excuses, I don’t know if you’re afraid to let go, maybe you can’t see me getting over you, but I know you’re afraid to be lonely, you know that I’m always here for you even if a wall is in between us, you’re in me and I’m in you.
What seem so wrong? I used to wonder, but at least now I know there’s nothing really wrong, it’s a thing you can’t take care, it’s a food you can’t taste, it’s a gift you can’t appreciate, it’s a song you don’t like, it’s just a little light in your darkness, you never did see me, you’ll never remember if I’m gone or I’m right next to you, it was me, that thought you can’t say, that feeling you can’t accept.
I know you, I’ve felt your presence from a dream, like a castle of diamonds. I thought maybe in my dream I could control you, I thought you could change, I didn’t want to wake up anymore, but right now I don’t want to fall asleep again.
It’s not the words I can’t tell, it’s the way I showed you the other parts of me, but you’ve chosen to reject them. You make me feel like I’m not golden, but now I know, you’re blind. But if you think I will stop pouring colors for you, no.
Reality sucks than a dream, but not the right reason for me to let you go.

cameronyorkismybae12  asked:

Hi, sorry if this is asking a lot, can you do a scorbus (haven't read cursed child yet) or Drarry one with 47 52 55 and 56?& maybe have some smut? Its alright if you don't do that kind of thing or won't do the request but I <3 your stories plz&thx

Warnings: Smut

A/N: This is like the first smut I’ve written, so bear with me if it’s bad lol. Also this is really long lol.

Scorpius hated going to Harry’s house for dinner with the entire Potter family. It’s not that he didn’t like them, it’s just that they were exhausting to be around for long periods of time. But he always went because Albus wanted him to. As they left their house to head to over there, though, Scorpius decided that he wanted to make this dinner more interesting for himself. 

After Scorpius had first met Teddy, Albus had asked what he thought of him. Just to mess with him, Scorpius told him that he thought Teddy was very good looking. He wasn’t lying. Anyone with eyes, including Albus, could see that Teddy was attractive, but it’s not like Scorpius would ever act on the fact that he thought that. He loved Albus. But after that, Albus had always watched Scorpius more carefully when he was around Teddy. Scorpius thought it was hilarious, and a perfect opportunity to mess with Albus tonight. This dinner was going to be fun.

They arrived at Harry’s house, and Albus and Scorpius quickly greeted everyone. But Scorpius made sure to hug Teddy a little bit longer than everyone else, but not long enough that anyone but Albus would notice.

Albus didn’t say anything, but gave Scorpius a confused look. Scorpius smirked to himself.

When they all sat down for dinner, Scorpius hurried to take the seat right next to Teddy. He even scooted his chair a little closer to him for good measure. He kept talking to Teddy, asking him about what he’s been up to, how work was, and even complimented him on his current hair color. He made sure to ignore Albus all throughout dinner. After everyone finished eating and headed into the living room to visit some more, Teddy offered to clean up and wash the dishes. Scorpius could hardly hide the smirk on his face, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

“I’m gonna go help Teddy,” he informed everyone, and just noticed Albus narrow his eyes at him as he turned to walk back into the kitchen.

When they finished and joined everyone else again, instead of sitting in the open and clearly saved spot for him next to Albus, Scorpius went to the couch Teddy sat on and took his seat right next to him, a little too close together to be friendly. At least to Albus. Teddy thought nothing of how Scorpius was acting tonight because he was just so damn nice and assumed everyone else was that way too.

Albus sent Scorpius a scowl that a teenage Draco would be proud of.

When they arrived back home, Albus slammed the door behind them and turned to Scorpius, arms crossed and giving him a cold look.

“What the fuck was that?” Albus struggled to get the words out without screaming.

“What was what, baby?” Scorpius said innocently and batted his eyelashes at his boyfriend.

“You know,” Albus took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, “exactly what I’m talking about.”

Albus’s face was bright red, his nostrils flared, and his hands clenched into fists.

You’re cute when you’re jealous, love.”

Scorpius smiled sweetly and turned to go into their bedroom.

“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, don’t you dare walk away from me!” Albus yelled after him.

Scorpius smirked to himself and continued walking. He knew what was going to happen, and it was exactly what he wanted.

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Stay the Night (Mercy 76)

Arriving sooner than anticipated, the group of heroes turned to the one in charge–Winston.  The humble giant was quick to notice all eyes on fall on him and ushered out a reassuring laugh as the ragtag team of iconic faces beheld his soft gaze.

“I figured we could all use a break.  We’ve been at this ‘world-saving’ business for a few good months straight.  Your eyes are dulling and I can see that this fight is taking its toll on all of you.  So,” he opened up his arms, welcoming the world around them in, “I lied.  We’ve no mission here.  I wanted to treat you all for serving Overwatch.  Your relentless actions, courageous strength, and kind hearts have earned you a few days off.”

Tracer, the first to jump with excitement, zipped over to the big guy and gave him a hug.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”  Twirling around, she flashed away before reappearing beside DVa, Mercy, and Pharah.  “Girls,” her head swiveled to the other females of the group, “it’s time we get that much needed R&R day.”

“I presume you’ve something in mind?”  Pharah crossed her arms over her armored chest.

The brunette’s lips curled up into a cute smirk.  All at once, the women yelled out, “SPA DAY!”

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anonymous asked:

This is one of those things I don't want you to rush, so reply whenever and if you feel like it, but if you're ever up to it, I would LOVE LOVE LOVE a Batman-related piece by you that makes zero sense. Or it makes too much sense. Something broad but specific. Something that if I read in comic form, I'd just... implode. I trust you with this. Amaze me whenever (and if lol) you feel like it. I trust your writing skills :^) Break my goddamn heart, 'leaque.

It’s not unusual for Gotham to fall in mourning when Batman goes missing. Because that’s the thing with Gothamites: they’ve never admitted Batman has died. Not because it’d be crazy to admit they live in a world where someone can die and just as easily come back to life a few months later—no, they know better than that—but because to them, to the city, to everything Gotham encompasses  and resonates within, Batman doesn’t die. That’s their truth. Batman goes missing and sooner or later finds his way back home.

It’s July 15th when the news breaks. The anchorwoman doesn’t seem shaken or the least bit worried; as a matter of fact she makes a small joke about how this is what—the fiftieth time in three years the dark vigilante has left? He’ll be back. His partners, young and older, are more than capable of keeping the city safe, as safe as Gotham can get she quips a second time, and the black cape will make its presence known soon after. No need to worry. Everything is under control.

Everything is under control.

It’s July 19th when the GCPD start noticing how no officer has encountered a single cape in each and every patrol they’ve been to. Crime rate hasn’t shot up yet, all the dirtbags are playing it safe and hiding for the time being, but where are they? Batman is gone for now, yes, but what if something major happens? This is Gotham City, practically ground zero for bad luck, number one villain holiday resort and beacon for small-scale terrorist attacks. Where’s the back-up plan?

There’s no back-up plan.

Keep reading

What is Offensive/Negative to do/say toward Tan-Skinned Idols: Saying that said idols are “too dark”, Saying that said idols should wear lighter makeup/foundation so they don’t look “so dark”, Commenting that said idols should consider lightening their skin, Recommending whitening creams/lotions and/or similar treatments to lighten their skin, White-washing their photos

What Kyungsoo Has Done: Picked Jongin’s tan skin has his #1 charm, stated in the past (several times, if I remember correctly) that Jongin’s tan skin is sexy, has said that Jongin’s tan skin is positively unique and charming, Jongin has stated himself that Kyungsoo makes him feel good about his skin

What Everyone Needs to Understand: The episode hasn’t aired yet therefore we do not fully understand the context and meaning of everything that was going on, Based on translation I’ve seen - the reason Kyungsoo colored in Jongin’s picture was to highlight what he was choosing as Jongin’s best feature; therefore this should be seen positively and as a compliment because that’s what Kyungsoo was probably meaning to convey.

If this is not your culture (and no, it is not my culture.), please at least try to get a proper understanding before posting your opinions. and be careful with the words you say and the threats you make, solely because you do not understand/agree with their view points. That is no excuse to tell a person to kill themselves. And if you think it is - you need to reevaluate your understanding of right and wrong.

@ryoga-echizen replied to your post: What is Offensive/Negative to do/say toward Ta…”

lol but you didn’t address the aspect of him colouring jongin in with a black marker, you’re honestly pretty misinformed about what is and is not colourist. I understand soo’s circumstances are different as Korea is usually accepting of colourism but that doesn’t justify what he did. y'all can be stans but you need to acknowledge it when our idols do something wrong??

I’m very well informed of what colorism is. Everything that I listed in the first section of my OP is examples (mind you, just a few) of colorism. It seems like you are the one who is a bit misinformed - and I’m not saying this to be aggressive in anyway.

I didn’t address the black marker because it’s very vague and petty, and there isn’t much to it to argue about. Just as @kaidonutsuniverse replied: He colored him in black because he had a black marker to use. Black is just a color here. As much as a color as pink, blue, red, green, brown, or orange. I want to genuinely ask you if you would be equally as offended if perhaps he had a red marker to use and colored him in red, or a yellow marker to use and colored him in yellow, or a purple a purple marker to use and colored him in purple? I want to ask if you’re only offended because it was a black marker? You shouldn’t be offended by a color if it’s used as what it is–just a color.

And we’re not for certain of what color options he had to choose from, but it’s pretty obvious he only had (what I assume to be) a black Sharpie pen, because he used no other colors on any of his other drawings. What I would understand you being upset about is if he used multiple colors for everyone else, but specifically chose a black marker to draw, target, and mock Jongin. But he did no such thing. Black was the only color he used for everyone.

If you’re going to go off about solely Kyungsoo coloring in Jongin, it’s because he had to highlight their most prominent feature, and he chose Jongin’s skin. Every member has their own specific feature that has been noted on them since MAMA era. Chanyeol’s big ears. Kyungsoo’s heart lips. Baekhyun’s pretty fingers. Chen’s upturned smile. Xiumin’s cat eyes. Lay’s dimples. Sehun’s indifferent expression. Suho’s forehead. Jongin’s tanned skin. This is their irrevocable staple, and it has been since MAMA era. I guarantee almost every fic or fanart you can find will mention/have any of these features on said member. Because this has become part of the way we identify and describe them.

Now for the last thing I’d like to add, I’ll quote @jiminychimchimcheree, because she said it perfectly.

“To me, as a plus sized woman, I would be more offended if a friend drew me skinnier than drawing me round and plump, because my friend would say to my face “your body is beautiful” but reflect in their drawing of me a different view.

I don’t understand. Couldn’t it be seen as just as “offensive” to ignore his skin color or change it by keeping him light? This is why this shit is bullshit. People who get offended cannot ever really figure out why or properly explain it without me coming behind and having a rebuttal. Kyungsoo likes Jongin’s skin and so when coloring him, he drew him darker because he IS DARKER. That is the end of it. “

anonymous asked:

Hi I'm a young teenage white female. I was hoping you could help me understand the difference between cultural appropriation and appreciation. I want to make sure that I can be as educated on the topic as much as possible so in my future I don't offend anyone. There are certain cultures that I have been trying to learn more about. If I were to dress as one of those cultures as a way of showing respect vs. a costume for Halloween is that appropriation or appreciation? Thank you!

♕  Note: This is going to be my last post on the subject of white people and natural hair and cultural appropriation. At least for awhile. I wrote this one real quick. I hope it all makes sense and meshes well for those that are enjoying the discourse.

To Anon:

Awesome question. Awesome attitude. 

First things first. There’s absolutely no correlation between dressing like a particular people and appreciating those people. Appreciation is rooted in values, empathy and action. Dressing doesn’t denote or guarantee any of these things. But, how do we know?

For simplicity’s sake, I’m just going to speak relative to Black people or people of African Descent. We heavily influenced, and in some cases downright created every form of modern music: blues, jazz, country, rock’n’roll, techno, house, trance, gospel, ragtime, swing, bee-bop/doo-wop, disco and pop. African influence on American food is undeniable. In fact, everything you call “comfort food” is influenced by the unfortunate necessity for enslaved Africans to adapt to America. Every major fashion designer has incorporated concepts from color and symmetry to cut and shape from African and urban African-Americans clothing. Throughout America, Europe and Latin America there are many words, as well as popular vernacular that were contributed by African or African-American/African-Euro/Afro-Latin. The adoption of our words, terms and casual lingo is so pervasive that when we figure about half or more White people are using our words/phrases we create new ones! Even the church in America would be different without Black people. From the songs you sing to your recognition of the Holy Ghost to how you perform baptisms, etc. 

Now, I could go on and on, but I think we’ve got enough examples to make my point. How did this mass transfer of identity and culture impact Black and White people? We were enslaved for 200+ years. We suffered through Jim Crow. Our men and boys were lynched. Our women and girls were raped. There are extensive studies on the torture that was performed on us. Everything done to a farm animal sent to slaughter has been performed on a Black person - by White people. This wasn’t done with the approval of a few. Not a lot. But by most. By and large, the majority of White people agreed, participated or at minimum benefited from it. Now, how can it be that our women were allowed to serve as nannies, raising white children during and well after slavery, our music filling your ears, our dress, language and culinary skills filling your souls up and still you chose to whip, murder, discriminate and violate us at every turn? Why do these things still continue to happen? Did not culture serve as a gateway of appreciation? No, Black culture has served as a commodity. Something to acquire, control, monetize, marginalize, ridicule. In a lot of ways our culture has served as a kind of “Disneyland”. While you may enjoy everything about going there, you probably wouldn’t use the words “respect” or “valuable” to describe your relationship with it. 

White people’s desire to acquire our culture stems from a deep vacuum. The absence of something in themselves and their own culture. I’m not White, so I don’t know what that is. But you must seek that out. Or create it, without borrowing. I love seeing Native (Americans) in traditional clothes. I love seeing Japanese women in Kimono. I love seeing Arabic women in  bedlah when they belly dance. But, I’ve never had a deep desire to see what Black people look like in their traditional garb. And keep in mind, unlike a lot of people who claim it, I really do have some distant Native roots! lol Never once. In fact, the idea seems idiotic. I’m not against seeing our culture subtly incorporated into fashion, music or whatever. It’s great. But, I don’t need to see a White person trying to “mimic me” anymore than I need to see a Black man dressed like what he thinks Buddha would have looked like. 

What I do when I want to show appreciation for another person’s culture is I buy a book. I watch a documentary. I find new sources that report from their perspective and I try to understand what their dreams, challenges and accomplishments are. I buy tickets to their plays, art exhibitions, festivals, etc. I go, I ask questions, I smile, I marvel, I observe their customs during these events out of respect, and then I go home. I don’t mimic any of it on my own time. If I decide to buy something, I may display it in my home, rock a simple shirt or clothing item, but all-out garb, and only after I have carefully researched it. And you’ll never see a Black person with a house full of non-African artifacts. But, there are a lot of White people that do this. If you’re Irish, why not go to Ireland and buy up all the 300 yr old Irish art? Put that in your home. 

I’ve met White people who go to Africa and want to be led into shrine rooms/temples that some people born in these countries have never seen. “I will build you a library or small clinic if you will take me into your most sacred worship space” they say! That’s crazy. Its insane. They say they ask out of “appreciation” and “deep respect” but if that’s the case, why don’t they help Black people demand the return of all African religious “art” to Africa? Nearly African artifact in every museum in the world that is over 50 years old was stolen! Most of it during the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade! During War! That means some traditional African priest or elder or young warrior died to protect those items, and now we take leisurely weekend trips to view them behind glass in White-ran museums. Now here is a good test. Having learned this interesting fact, if you don’t (1) tell every other White person you know (2) do everything you can to draw attention to this massive injustice - then you don’t really appreciate us. You want to own the “Disneyland” parts of us, like most other White people. 

This bring us back to my first point. Do your values force you to reevaluate how you perceive a people? Can you develop empathy for others and what they go through? Do your values and understanding of others compel you to work against institutional racism? If the answer is yes, you’ve joined the ranks of a very small group of White people. If the answer is no, whatever the reason, trust no one including yourself who says that is okay. It’s not. It never will be. 

I know my answer makes for a duller Halloween for White kids every year, but it makes the other 364 days out of the year much better for people of color. You don’t need to own a piece of me. You need to get to know me. And all you need is a book and event calendar to make that happen. If you really want to make a difference you need to look at the global impact of racism and white supremacy and do your part to reverse it. And you need to remember that one day you’ll be an adult and you’ll have a million excuses for why its better to go to work and mind your business. At that moment, you will become a part of the problem and inadvertently become an instrument of that system that hurts, steals and disenfranchises Black, Native and Asian people. Don’t be one of those people. We’d appreciate that.

Before I end this post I want to give a Super shout-out to my interracial folks. I know these conversations are especially difficult for you. Here’s where I stand: If one of your parents is a person of color, you’re a person of color. I can’t take that away from you. No one can. And why would we? I know many of you know the truth better than us. Which can make things especially uncomfortable. I know some of you didn’t get exposed to both sides of yourself and are hearing some of this for the first time. I believe 100% of what I’m saying. But, I also love you 100%. No contradiction. No issue. Submit ‘ya pics! lol

Title: Operation First Date
Pairing: AoKise (with some KagaKuro, MidoTaka, and MuraHimu because why not)
Summary: Aomine never thought asking his friends for advice would turn out so disastrous. (AU setting where everyone’s on better terms than in canon)
Genre: Fluff. Like self-indulgent stupid grinning kind of fluff. 

For Sachi… because she inspires all the AoKise and we need something to help us recover from “Yellow”. 

Oi, is this thing working?! Can you guys hear me?”

“Baka, stop screaming into the mic! We can hear you loud and clear, sheesh!”

“Aomine-kun, you don’t need to be so loud.”

“I’m in agreement with Kuroko for once. Aomine, I took the liberty of pinning your lucky item into your jacket. Virgo is said to have good luck with frogs today.”

“Hah?! A frog pi—” Aomine peered into his jacket and noticed the small frog pin affixed to the inside. “How did you even—”

“I helped Shin-chan steal the jacket because he knew you wouldn’t wear the pin if he just gave it to you and—”

“Takao, no need to bore him with the details of our actions. The point is, now he has an increased amount of luck. He will need it as his star alignment was said to be questionable today.”

“Shin-chan, you always think of everyth— oomph! Hey, what was that for?!”

Aomine took the earpiece out and grimaced. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking, asking his friends for help. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t hung out with Kise before, hadn’t gone on outings that could be interpreted as dates, but the blond had been going on and on about never having been taken on a proper date before and after a while, Aomine began to think that maybe the whining quips were more than just Kise lamenting.

“Shit! He’s here. Can you guys not be so loud? What if he hears you through the earpiece?”

“Kagami-kun, I think that comment was directed at you.”

“What?! No way! I’m not even that lou— oi, Kuroko, get off my foot! Are you touching my ass?!”

“That wasn’t me, Kagami-kun.”

“I wanted to see if you had snacks in your back pocket.”


“Maa maa, Atsushi, I brought your snacks for you. No need to grope Taiga now, hm?”

“Muro-chin, do we have to be here? I wanted to watch that documentary on how candy was made.”

“Tatsuya, can you do something about his hand?! It’s still on my ass!”

Aomine sighed. This was going to be a long night. It was Satsuki’s idea to have him wear an earpiece in the first place. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure. Having never been on a proper date with anyone, he thought that having a few extra eyes and ears to help him so he doesn’t fuck up the entire evening would be better than him trying to fumble on his own. But as the night wore on and the date loomed closer and closer, he was seriously starting to regret the idea. 

“He’s walking this way. You sure he can’t see you guys, right? Oi, I don’t know how I ever let Satsuki talk me into this.”

“Dai-chan, you know that Ki-chan would never stop talking about going on a date unless you actually took him on one. And no, hanging out with him to play one-on-one or lazing around playing video games doesn’t count as a date.”

“Satsuki, this is all your fault! Did you at least manage to make the reservations?”

“All set! You have about an hour to get there. You’re wearing the shirt I ironed for you, right?”


Before he could answer, Kise had waved before crossing the street, his face spread into his signature thousand-watt smile. Something happened then and Aomine’s jaw dropped, cobalt eyes fixated on the blond as he came to a stop in front of the ace. The voices in his ear all but forgotten, he managed to snap his jaw shut when he realized he’d been staring and mumbled a barely discernible, “Y-You look really nice.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself, Aominecchi!” Kise’s cheeks were tinged a faint pink, the navy blue scarf coiled at his neck the same color as Aomine’s eyes. He noticed the ace staring at it before his eyes went wide, as though he’d just realized something. “Oh! I almost forgot! I brought one for you, too.”

Kise pulled out a pale amber scarf in the same style as the one he wore and hung it over Aomine’s shoulders. 

“What’s this for?”

“A gift. People say it’s good to bring gifts on a first date, right? Isn’t that why you have the box of chocolates?”

“I— oh! Yeah, these are for you,” he said lamely, practically flinging the box Murasakibara helped him pick out earlier in the day. Even though the Yosen giant looked as though he would rather be buying the sweets for himself, he had refrained long enough to help Aomine pick ones that Kise would like. It was a testament to how much his former teammate wanted to help that he waited until Aomine bought everything he needed before he dug into his own stash. “I didn’t know what to get you, but I knew you liked chocolates even if you can’t eat them all that often, so… uh, yeah.”

Why am I so nervous? It’s not like we don’t hang out all the time.

Aomine’s gaze lingered on Kise’s face, lost in his own thoughts.

“Give him a kiss on the cheek! Aww, Dai-chan, you look so cute when you’re nervous!”

“You look like you’re gonna wet your pants, Aho. Stop fidgeting! Oi— Kuroko, stop appearing out of nowhere like that! When did you have time to get a milkshake?!”

“I’ve been back for some time, Kagami-kun. Stop saying such embarrassing things or you’ll make Aomine-kun more nervous than he already is.”

“I’m not nervous,” Aomine muttered through clenched teeth.

“Did you say something, Aominecchi?” Kise tilted his head to the side, his expression alight with excitement.

“You so are, Aho. Don’t even try to deny it! Now, take his hand. You’re supposed to hold hands while you’re on a date, ya know.”

“Kagami-kun, how would you know? You’ve never held my hand in all the times we’ve gone out. Does that mean they weren’t dates?”

“Wha— No! Of course they were dates! I just—”

“We cannot hear what they’re saying. Can you all just quiet down, nanodayo.”

“Shin-chan! Are you trying to get a peek at them? I didn’t know you were a voyeur!”


“Did he like the chocolates, Mine-chin? If he doesn’t want them, you can give them to me.”

“Atsushi, honestly. You already have a bag full of snacks. Leave his alone.”

“But they were good chocolates.”


It suddenly occurred to him that Kise was looking at him as though he’d just lost his mind. The voices in his ear had gone quiet as well and the only thing he could hear in the silence was his own accelerated breathing. Yanking the earpiece out, he threw it on the ground and stomped on it until it was nothing more than bits of plastic and mangled wires. 

“What is that?” Kise asked, golden eyes staring at the broken mess on the concrete before a concerned gaze locked itself on Aomine’s visibly frustrated face. “Are you okay, Aominecchi?”

Finally recovering from his momentary lapse, Aomine grabbed Kise by the hand and began dragging him toward the basketball court. “C’mon, let’s go. I don’t even know why I have friends. They’re making this date worse than if I just tried to do it by myself.”

Kise’s expression seemed confused before it sunk in and he stopped walking, tugging Aomine toward him. “Is that what they were doing? I knew something was up when I saw Kagamicchi hiding out behind some bushes with Midorimacchi.” The blond sighed good-naturedly and shook his head. “You didn’t need to do all of this, you know. All I wanted was to spend time with Aominecchi!”

"Really? I thought you wanted a real date—”

Stepping closer, Kise cut off Aomine’s response with an impromptu kiss. “I want you. Just you. Real date, fake date. Everything’s a date as long as I’m with Aominecchi.”

“Me too, baka. Now, let’s ditch them before they start going at it again, eh? We got some one-on-one to play.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Don't Worry So Much (Part Three - Calum Hood)

Don’t Worry So Much (All Parts)

Part Three anyone? lol 

“What the fuck is this?!” Ashton nearly screeched as Calum entered the house. Calum shushed him at once and kicked the door closed with his foot as quietly as he could.

“Trent attacked her. Someone open the door to her room; I need to lay her down so I can clean her up.” Calum looked down at you lying curled up in his arms. You’d been awake almost the entire way here, groaning out from the pain until you were finally too exhausted to stay awake anymore.

Ashton growled and jumped to his feet, making for the front door, “That son of a bitch is gonna…” Calum shook his head and stepped in Ashton’s path, nodding towards the stairs that lead to your room. “What? You think I’m gonna let him get away with this! That’s my baby sister!”

“Ashton, trust me. He didn’t get away with it… This isn’t her blood on my shirt.” Ashton’s eyes trailed down to Calum’s chest that was clad in what had been a clean white tank top before he dropped Ashton off at home but was now caked in dried blood to the point it had almost completely changed colors. “Now please, get her door so I can at least lie her down on the bed before we talk.”

Ashton nodded in agreement and turned around, leading Calum up to your room and opening the door for him. “Tell me what happened.” He said, stepping in your room behind Calum and watching as he laid you ever so gently down on top of your sheets.

Calum sat on the edge of the bed next to, keeping his eyes on you at all times while he spoke. “I was heading to practice after I dropped the other guys off. I had to get some stuff from my gym locker so I’d gone through the school, and when I came out I saw him there, literally standing on her chest, wearing his soccer cleats. I started running for them, but he managed to get a good shot to her face, kick to the stomach, and a knee to her forehead before I got my hands on him.”

“And once you got your hands on him?” Ashton spoke through gritted teeth, arms crossed tightly over his chest to keep from punching something… or someone.

 “I pulled him off her and choked him till he passed out. Then I made sure (Y/n) was alive, or breathing at least…” That was when Calum looked up, meeting Ashton’s rage-filled gaze with one of calm seriousness. “Then I waited for him to wake up so I knew he would feel it, and I beat him till he didn’t have the strength to even raise his own to stop me and his blood dripped off my hands like water… I didn’t stop till (Y/n) started to come around and called for me… When I left he was still out like a light… I don’t think he’ll be getting up tonight unless someone finds him.”

“Good,” Ashton growled, finally uncrossing his arms, satisfied that Calum had done enough vengeance for the both of them… for now at least. “We should probably check her wounds; see how bad a beating he gave her before you found them.”

“I don’t think you should be here for that.” Calum spoke honestly, standing up between Ashton and the bed.

Ashton gritted his teeth and tried not to punch Calum for even suggesting that he should leave his sister alone with anyone ever again. “Why the fuck is that?”

“Ash, be rational for a minute…” Calum looked down at you and Ashton did as well. “Her face is caked in bruises; her chest is probably going to be the same way. Do you really want to be in here to see your sister half-naked and covered in bruises from the guy who did this as pay back for us humiliating him after he sexually harassed her?”

Ashton looked down at your sleeping form with an almost desperate expression. He knew Calum was right; if he saw something like that he could never un-see it. If he was here to see you that broken it would be all he would ever see when he looked at you again. On the other hand, he couldn’t just leave you here like that. You were his little sister. If he wasn’t there for you, if he couldn’t protect his own sister than what was the point in all of this.

“Ashton,” Calum spoke softly, snapping him from his daze. “I can handle this; don’t worry. Why don’t you run around the block to Luke’s and get him to take you back to the school. Your sister’s car is still there… And if Trent is still on the ground when you get there then maybe you could land a few good jabs of your own before you go.”

Ashton nodded and backed towards the door. “Okay just… just take care of her, okay? I just…”

Calum nodded in understanding. Ashton was rarely speechless, and on the rare occasions it happened it was usually easy to tell what he meant. “It’ll be okay… She’ll be okay, mate. I wasn’t running too late; he didn’t have her too long…” That seemed to comfort him more than anything. “Can you bring my gym bag in from my car before you go? I have some gel for bruises… That’ll probably help more than anything.”

Ashton nodded and rushed out of the room, leaving Calum alone with your unconscious form. He sat back down next to your head and looked down at you with a broken expression. He wished more than anything that he had gotten there just a few minutes sooner so he wouldn’t have to see you like this, battered and broken.

“Here,” Ashton came back in the room, lugging Calum’s gym bag behind him, and set it down next to the bed, sparing a quick second to glance sideways at his sister with a sullen look. “I’m gonna kill him for touching her.” He whispered to himself, backing up and leaving Calum in the room alone again.

Calum waited till he heard the front door slam before he slid his arms under your back, pulling you up slowly and propping you in a sitting position on the pillows behind you. You let out a quiet whimper of pain, but other than that you didn’t stir. “Sorry, babe,” Calum whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. He didn’t want to cause you any more pain, but this had to be done.

Calum got up on the bed and kneeled with a knee on either side of your hips. His nimble fingers began unbuttoning down the front of your shirt, and the more skin was exposed the angrier he felt. His hand traced down your torso light as a feather, following down the line of deep bruises. There was a pattern of circular dark bruises on your chest that almost made Calum want to cry. He’d had bruises from people’s cleats after soccer matches before, but never that bad.

“God what a monster,” he whispered, tracing the bruise outlining the side of Trent’s shoe and the one right next to it that was clearly the toe of it. “I should’ve killed him,” Calum grumbled, bending over and unzipping his gym bag.

“W-where am i?” He shot up at sound and saw you struggling to open your eyes and trying to push yourself up. “Cal?” You were still weak, and you couldn’t really open your eyes to see what was going on. You didn’t remember anything after you saw Calum pull Trent off you. You didn’t know who’d won or where you were, or if Calum was okay.

His hands gently took your arms and held you back down onto the pillows, “Hey, hey relax.” Calum tried  to soothe you, stroking his hands over your arms, which seemed to be the only part he could touch without you wincing. “It’s me; it’s Calum. You’re safe now. I brought you home. Trent’s gone. You’re okay.”

Even if you couldn’t open your eyes, you’d recognize that voice and those hands anywhere. You relaxed a bit into the pillows and let your head lull back a bit. “W-what happened?”

“I pulled Trent off you and beat the shit out of him. Then I brought you home. Ashton just left to get Luke and go pick up your car… and possibly run Trent over with it, knowing him.” Calum gently tucked your hair behind your ear and let his hand fall away.

“A-and you?” You managed to peel your eyelids back slightly, but you couldn’t really make out much other than his form before they fell shut again. “Are you okay?”

Calum couldn’t help a smile. Here you lay covered in bruises, battered and beaten by the man who sexually harassed you, and you still wanted to know if he was okay. It was comical. “Yes, I’m fine.” He chuckled, “Trent didn’t even see it coming. He didn’t land a hit on me…” Calum let his eyes trail over your chest again. “I wish he had though, wish it was me instead of you.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that so you didn’t bother. You doubted Calum actually meant that. Who would possibly ask for a thing like that to be brought on them? That was insane.

Calum pulled out the gel from his bag and squirted it into his hand, “I’m about to put something on to help the bruises, but it’s going to be cold, okay?” You nodded as best you could in response and tensed up as Calum’s hand came down to your stomach and spread the cold gel over each of the bruises. You felt a shiver run down your back, and you held in a whimper.

Calum got up off the bed once he finished with your chest. He leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead as gently as he could manage. “I think that’s really the best I can do, babe.” Calum got to his feet and picked up his bag, preparing to leave. “Ashton will be home soon with your car.”

“Thank you,” you whispered in a timid voice. This had to easily be the most time you’d ever spent alone with Calum, or any of your brother’s friends for that matter. You were literally lying on your bed with your top open, covered in bruises, with gel all over that Calum had just smeared on your chest. How do you handle a situation like that?

Calum smiled down at you with a sympathetic expression. “You’re welcome, babe.” He pulled his bag onto his shoulder and turned for the door.

“Calum?” You called, stopping him with his hand on the doorknob. “C-could you stay with me?… J-just till Ashton gets home?” You didn’t know what brought that question on, but you were pretty sure it was your fear outweighing the insecurity of being half-naked.

Calum nodded and set his bag down by your door, walking back over and crawling up to lay down next to you. “Of course I can. I’ll stay as long as you like.” He kissed your cheek and rested an arm over your hips, pressing himself close to your side. You felt safe like this. Calum had stopped Trent this time, and as long as he was here you knew Trent couldn’t hurt you.

anonymous asked:

I don't know if you were already asked this but when did you start drawing? like when did you start getting into art? (sorry if you were already asked this) Love your art by the way

Wow surprisingly I haven’t been asked this before lol I started drawing in the first grade that’s when I knew that I had something, didn’t know exactly what it was I had but I knew it was something lol. When I figured out that I wanted to be an artist it was when I was first exposed to anime. My uncle has always been my role model he was a great artist and he had the biggest collection of anime in the western hemisphere lol I remember he would draw and I would be blown away so I started tracing Dragonball Z pictures and practicing out from this “How to draw pokemon” book I got from the book fair at my elementary school.

When I got into middle school I got into comics and started making my own well at least  I thought they were comics but my anime influences made them more like Mangas…HORRIBLE Mangas at that lol 

Can’t believe I still have those, I was in the 6th grade when I drew those. But from there I went on to drawing animals and trying to put color into my work…

I took a break from art for awhile & started getting into music production and I got kinda rusty with animals during that time so when I picked the pencil back up in my highschool years I decided I wanted to start drawing people.

Then when I graduated highschool I was introduced to another type of art and that was the more animated style & it was also my first time doing anything digital.

The animated style was kinda my gateway into digital art and where I am today fast forward a few month from that picture and I tried to do my first digital portrait…using a mouse x_x *brace yourself*

After watching several Youtube videos I was introduced to what a Wacom tablet was, purchased it and tried my hand at painting with a stylist and this was the results…

That was a year ago (in March) and since then I’ve just been studying and practicing on how to get better and more detailed so from that picture to now I am here….

I know you just asked how did I get started with art but seeing that I tried so many different styles of art and got started with them all in different stages I just took this time to do a complete from start to finish of my life as an artist lol Hope this isn’t extremely boring and drawn out…PUNPUNPUN…lmao

anonymous asked:

(1/2) I was lurking at fail-fandomanon over @ Dreamwidth (don't recommend it; what a fucking wank fest, but I guess that's the point lol) and one anon made a good point at a thread about why people didn't ship Mordo/Strange. They said that the part of the fandom that cares about PoC is the part of fandom that chose to boycott the film out of principle, so the fandom that's left is the one that doesn't care about PoC or about shipping in general.

(2/2) I think it’s a good point. We probably won’t get Mordo ships or Mordo-centric stuff until PoC become involved in the fandom. Come on, people, it’s less than an hour (lemme do your homework for you: skip the first 20 minutes, Chiwetel shows up around the 20 minute mark) and you can bootleg it like so many of us did. I just need more Chiwetel/Mordo love in my life :(

Well, I completely support POC boycotting Doctor Strange on principal. In fact, I actually bootlegged it and was pretty glad I did. The film, to me at least, was kind of boring. But, I digress.

Moving away from Doctor Strange, you’ll notice the same lack of care/nuance/attention that comes with characters of color. Take a look at how much material gets made for Rhodey Rhodes in the Iron Man fandom. Take a look at how much content gets made of Claire Temple. 

Move even further from the MCU fandom into Star Wars, take a look at how much content we have for Finn (as a solo character) as opposed to other characters. 

Go over to the DCEU fandom with Supergirl, and Flash and the DC films. How much content exists for James Olson, or Iris West (both who are love interests for the main characters) as opposed to other, white characters. 

Look at Wally West. He’s pretty much a DC fandom darling, but no one seems to like him when he’s being played by Lonsdale. 

I’ve even seen people get heated over Abbie Mills from Sleep Hollow (a show I don’t even watch, but I know about the fuckery in that space because of a lot of the blogs I follow).

None of those shows/movies were boycotted/criticized to the extent of Doctor Strange, and yet those same black characters are sidelined/ignored/degraded. 

Go to Teen Wolf, and you’ll realize that Scott (the main character of the freakin’ show) gets a fraction of the love that Stiles gets. 

Over in the Star Wars fandom, Uhura gets nothing but hate because she’s “In the way of Kirk/Spock” 

And when fandom says they’re so protective of the ship is because they care about M/M relationships, but when Sulu was revealed to have a husband AND a daughter, all people could talk about was how it would have been better if they had just made Kirk/Spock canon.

It’s not just a “One Fandom” kind of problem. It’s in every fandom, all the time. 

The fact that  I call out the lack of Mordo love has more to do with Fandom’s own hypocrisy. They say they love villains/antagonistic characters, but that love dries up the second that “antagonist” isn’t white. I love Mordo/Chiwetel a whole lot, and I’d love for there to be more content for him.  Specifically content that doesn’t revolve around a Strange/Mordo ship. (I just really don’t care for Stephen Strange as a character)

But I knew (from the second Ejiofor was cast) that this was going to be a big issue, and that there wouldn’t be as much (if ANY) kind of fanwork for him as a character, despite his importance to the narrative.

It’s also dangerous to characterize this issue as “People just aren’t interested in this ship” or as a shipping war, because it’s something way more complicated than that, and a lot of people just try to use that as an excuse to make these kinds of discussions stop. 

But still, thanks for the message. I hope we can all make more Mordo content, because the character and actor really deserve all the love in the world.