i never claimed i could draw

abidos replied to your post

“*peers at the new kylux art* nice to know you are continuing the trend…”

This is a joke, right? everyone can draw what they want, of course, but your not actually claiming to respect real measurements, right? Please, my fait in humanity is low enough as it is.

i have no idea why people in this fandom can’t seem to grasp stylization as an aspect of character design. i don’t draw realism. i have never claimed to. i draw cartoons. i study character design. i take shapes i see in subject matters and i emphasize them to fit the characters i’m trying to present. if i didn’t, every single character i drew would have the same boring silhouette and no personality.

and like it or not, my dude, adam is big. he is 6′3″ of former marine who used to eat entire chickens for lunch. he calls himself a sasquatch. he could probably crush my head between his pecs. i think his hands are bigger than domhnall’s head. and that’s not a bad thing. i like this aspect about him, so i use it when i draw. 

i like the idea of ben organa-solo being a large imposing form that is actually a giant sweetheart underneath it. or the idea of kylo not only being frightening for his force abilities or lightsaber training, but also for the HUGE TERRIFYING MASS covered in black robes and faceless masks he cuts out.

and on the other end of the spectrum, yes domhnall is roughly the same height, but he is far, far from the same build as the good mister driver up there. he’s skinny. he’s a skinny waif of an irishman with slim shoulders that needed to be padded in his hux uniform to cut him a larger silhouette. and that’s fine! not every human is built the same way!! he pulls it off well and honestly it’s a look i usually prefer. and in turn, i feel this is an important thing to consider when thinking of hux.

hux more likely than not raised in ranks through nepotism as well as his engineering skills and ideas. this is a man who has literally never seen battle. he has no reason to be built like kylo is. he’s in shape, sure, but no amount of working out is going to change having a naturally thin frame. and i feel like hux as a character might resent that, so he works to make himself look bigger the way that animals do when they’re trying to look imposing. that greatcoat he wears draped over his shoulders? the padded shoulders in his uniform? that’s the hux equivalent of an animal fluffing up its fur. on the armie side, i feel like he’s more comfortable with his form because in my AUs he’s not leading a military operation. if anything, i draw him with the idea that basically everything is beneath him. he’s a snobby rich bitch, he has people to do that for him. 

my fave look for him and kylo/ben is pampered emperor and devoted guard dog. so this is what i draw.

pls consider:

now, let’s look at some examples of stylization in cartoons.

and so on. see how you can get a feel for each character based on the different silhouettes? 

good? good.

okay, but now I’m considering it

Snape was a master at Potions, and he was clearly superior to whoever wrote the textbook

it’s said in the books that he always taught his own variations to the students, and never had them buy books

it was just kind of accepted as how it was

but he never claimed credit for that

he could have. he could have written his own textbooks, and revolutionized potions throughout the world. he could have published that knowledge. but I imagine that probably wouldn’t have been a valid course of action for him, given that it would draw attention to himself, and when you’re a double agent, attention isn’t a good thing, I doubt he was focusing much on potions when he was working for Voldemort, because that’s just not the priority, and the middle of a war isn’t really the time to publish a potions textbook and after that, I think it was again the attention thing

but why didn’t he claim those as his own in class, why didn’t he make a big deal of that, I mean he was arrogant, we seem him being arrogant. everyone knows that. he puts on a good show of an ego, to cover up his lack of self-confidence. so why not claim those potions as his own, to make his genius known

as much of an asshole as Snape was (and while I accept a lot of his actions and tend to believe the best of him in some situations, the fact remains that he did torture Neville and was perfectly willing to kill his pet in front of him, and that is not acceptable behavior, and even though his hatred for Neville makes sense, we know that Neville was not the only one he tortured), he was a fucking genius at potions and at generally creating new magic, spells too

I kind of want an AU where someone saw that potential in him early on, and pushed him to act on it, giving him a course other than the one he took

Hey, hello.

I’m pretty aware Katsuyu is not a ship you all like, but it’s not gross, it’s not abusive, it’s not the worse ship ever,  I don’t even draw them THAT “super OOC” as you claim I do.

I’m not asking for very much, but, could you stop talking shit about my ship, and start focusing on  your own ship, please? do you know the meaning of “RESPECT”? 

(Sorry I need to say it, if you consider Katsuyu as abusive, are you also saying your ship with Bakugou is abusive as well?????????????you know what abusive means?????????????????????????????)

Katsuyu is a tiny fandom, we never mess with other people’s ships at the level some people talks about Katsuyu. Let us be, in peace. The fact Katsuyu is a ship that doesn’t fit your FANON standards it doesn’t give you the right to be like that. Don’t you understand why I like them? Do I need to justify myself? Seriously? Let me tell you that BNHA is actually a series with the possibility of MULTISHIP, YOUR SHIP AND YOUR TASTE ON SHIPs ARE NOT THE LAW, the law is gonna be what Horikoshi sensei decides, you are not Horikoshi sensei so stop acting like you own BNHA or the characters; You are free to say your opinion? Oh dear you are, but in proper manners and not acting toxic.

Block me, unfollow me, blacklist “Katsuyu” but stop being so freaking damn childish and grow up. Talking shit about other ships it doesn’t make you look cooler, but a total DUMB.

P.S: It’s been a long while since I see hate/just rude messages on twitter, some are even in the tags of my fanarts and today I saw one in the “bakugou/tsuyu” tag on Tumblr.. Let me give you an example

EDIT: let me post some that are in english

at least learn how to use the anti tag, and worry not, I would make sure to not to read that kind of bullshit.

Sorry for bring this here, but I’m pretty damn tired of this atittude and I just want people to respect Katsuyu as any other ship in this fandom.

future // jaalxf!ryder

Oh no I’ve fallen on the hype train and I can’t get off.

Also I haven’t been on tumblr in a while, forgive the rust.


He had long grown weary of war, aged prematurely by the hands of his people, so desperate to throw themselves at the feet of the first thing to call itself a god.

(It never claimed to be a deity, only to gift them something that even their own ancestral pantheon never did.

I will grant you ascendancy, declared the false-prophet. I will grant you metamorphosis.

Into what?)

Jaal had no knowledge of these aliens, had no resources to draw upon, but he could sense the youth that Sara possessed, the inexperience of leadership that he almost waxed nostalgic for.

(“We’ll find them.” She vowed, when the latest missing rebels list landed on her desk.

At some point, he realized he had started to believe her.)

They spoke of many things, of language, of loss, of poorly translated jokes.

(They did not speak of their fathers. Because Sara still clung to the hope that hers’ still lived, and Jaal prayed that his did not.)

He did not know when a flicker of something appeared between them, in the downtime after missions, or in stolen breaks between battle, or when he began to fear for her when she went without him.

(Or worse, when Vetra noticed he was fretting more then her,

and then she started with the smirking.)

But he did know that her touch chased away the years that had built up in his bones, that when she curled around him he could honestly say he was happy.

(He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt such a thing.)

That the word future had begun to mean…


yes or no?

yes, we came from the darkness,
with only matches to light our way. they flickered
with every tiny gust that whispered across us
but we faced hurricanes and emerged, still holding the flames. 

yes, i let you in because i couldn’t bear to keep you out.
you took hold of a heart that forgot how to beat
and taught it how to draw breath with all of the starlight inside you.

yes, i love you. no, i won’t say it.

yes or no?

no, don’t leave, the air is brittle and cold
and so am i, but you make me want to be warm.
i think i could find the sun in your smile if you stay long enough.

no, i won’t let them take you
when i only just found myself in your eyes. 

no, this isn’t the end. this is our start. you claimed us as home
and a beginning has never tasted as sweet
to a tongue so used to bitterness.

YES OR NO? // l.s.

[So this fic was requested anonymously and contains mild smut. Enjoy!]

If you think you feel stupid, you will end up looking stupid. I repeated over and over again in my head as I tried to muster some semblance of confidence. Squaring my shoulders I tried not to shiver too violently as the line moved at a snail-like pace and the harsh wind and snow bit at my exposed flesh.
           The masked bouncer said nothing when I finally got to him, he simply extended a large hand and I set the bills into his palm. When I got inside my jacket was taken from me and I walked across the marble floors to the staircase instead of the packed elevator. Everything was gold, the winding staircase, the sculptures of naked men and women on the walls, the person that dangled from aerial silks above the lobby.
           I trailed my fingertips across the railing, arriving on the fifth floor. I could hear the pulsing music from within, a masked man and woman slipped into one of the private areas and slammed the door behind them. Adjusting my own mask I slipped into the club with an electric energy pulsing through my veins.

***Harley’s P.O.V***

           I sat in my Puddin’s lap absently stroking his chest while he talked business with three yahoo’s that bored me to splinters. They were smart guys right enough, they made us decent money too, but boy were they a snooze. Casting a glance around the club my gaze landed on a little red dress. It was a cute halter dress, retro, and velvet. The skirt went to about mid-thigh and my eyes trailed down her leg to her strappy pumps before moving slowly back up again. She was cute, she wore a black lace mask and her lips were as red, velvety, and inviting as her dress.
           I must have made a sound of some sort because Mister J turned his head to look at me. His gaze followed mine and a small purr escaped him.
           "Now, now, honey. You know the rules,“ his trailed down my jaw and I met his cool blue eyes.
           "Please Puddin’, pretty,” I moved my index and middle finger in a playful walking motion up his chest, “pretty, pretty, pretty, please.”
           His eyes narrowed, moving back to the girl who was at the bar now. With my eye still on her I leaned closer, whispering in his ear.
           "Do I have to get on my knees and beg?“ I grazed his earlobe with my teeth.
           "Maybe later.”
           He turned back to his men so I decided to take that as my cue to have a little fun.


           I set my last glass on the counter feeling warm and there was a fantastic buzz in my brain that turned me to the dance floor. A slow song was playing; one that made me feel even warmer and I ran my hands slowly up my thighs as I rolled my hips as I trailed my hands up my body and ran my fingers through my hair.
           I felt someone else’s hands grip my hips as they came up behind me; I felt their breath on the back of my neck as they moved my hips the way they wanted. Turning to face them my eyes widened a fraction and I instinctively took a step back, but she pouted and pulled me back to her by the skirt of my dress.
           "What’s wrong? You don’t like me?“
           Quite the contrary. My gaze flicked to her lips then back to her eyes, a knowing smile lit her face and she began to move. I watched as she lowered herself in front of me, shimming her hips before rising again and I began to move to. I could blame my hands moving to her waist on the liquid courage but it wasn’t the booze. It was her skin and the way it felt so soft under my hands, it was her perfume that seemed to do all the right things for me, it was her hips that cast a spell as they moved against mine, it was her eyes that danced with amusement and crackled like blue fire and I was all too willing to be enveloped by their flame.
           "He’s watchin’,” she whispered, her hand moving up to cup the back of my neck but I knew no fear in that moment.
           In fact I stared right at the infamous King of crime as my hands roamed over the contours of Harley’s body, a body that seemed to fit so well against mine.
           "Now aren’t you brave,“ she laughed, turning my head so I was looking at her again.
           "You want me?” She whispered, her nose brushing against mine.
           The corner of my mouth twitched, “What if I said no?”
           She pulled me close and I felt the prick of a dagger under my ribs a grin still on her face as she purred, “I’d cut your heart out.”
           "I wouldn’t want that,“ I whispered, licking my lips.
           "Tell me what you want, sweetheart,”
           "Hey, Harley,“
           I took the interruption as my cue to wuss out and lose my nerve. I moved through the crowd and slipped out the way I came. I walked quickly to the banister and rested my hands on the smooth marble surface as I took a few deep breaths.
           "Where ya’ goin’, Red? Things were just gettin’ interesting,”
           I whirled around. Harley was leaning against one of the pillars and she slowly sauntered over to me and reached up to remove my mask. She tossed it over the edge but I didn’t care, all I could focus on was her and she hopped up and sat on the banister. She quirked her index finger, gesturing for me to come closer and I obliged.
           I leaned in close, her arms wrapping around my neck and I swear I had never wanted anyone more in my life.
           "You’ve got a quiet fire in there, don'tcha? You don’t really do this often, do ya, honey?“ She whispered.
           I shook my head.
           "What are you afraid of?” She asked her voice husky as her nose brushed against mine.
           "Wanting someone I shouldn’t want,“
           My lips claimed hers and one of my hands fisted into her hair while the other rested on her lower back so I could draw her closer to me. Her lips were soft, her tongue was like silk and I ached with how badly I wanted her. I felt one of her hands take the one that rested on her lower back, I vaguely wondered what she was doing and then she guided them between her legs.
           I stopped kissing her and pulled back slightly so I could look into her heavy lidded blue eyes. She tugged her lower lip between her teeth and I let out a shaky breath as my fingertips brushed her clit. She wasn’t wearing any underwear.
           "Don’t run away from me now,”
           We were out in the open, anyone could see us, but in that moment I really didn’t give a damn. My lips found her neck as I began to move my fingers in slow circular motions. I sucked, licked, kissed, and bit her neck and the sound of her moan made my stomach flutter and my knees shake. My lips trailed along her jaw as my fingers grew slick with her growing wetness and my movements became faster.
           "Oh baby, your fingers feels so good, I’m going to cum soon, would you like that?“
           "Yes,” I whispered huskily, watching the spread of redness creep up her chest and neck and I lowered my head to bite the tender swell of her breast.
           I slipped a finger inside of her and her hips jerked, nearly sending her over the edge of the balcony but I yanked her back so she stood in front of me giggling.
           "That was a-“
           I pulled her into a more private alcove and slammed her against the wall.
           "Quiet fire,” she purred and my body lowered itself before her without my minds consent.
           She watched me, a slow smile spreading across her face as I lifted her leg over my shoulder and buried my face between her thighs. My tongue found her juicy sweetness and I felt her hand on the back of my head as she held me to her.
           "Oh god, you’re good with your mouth,“ she gasped.
           I slipped my fingers inside of her as my tongue worked, her moans made me wet, the taste of her was almost addicting, and I knew I had made the biggest mistake of my life coming to Alibi. It was a mistake to want her, if I didn’t end up dead, I would end up always wanting her but never being able to have her again and I’m not sure which was worse. Her hips moved against my mouth and she cried out, her body shook but I wasn’t finished with her, not yet.
           "Oh god, that’s enough,” she began to convulse but I kept going.
           "Yes, oh, there, stop-Nngh!“
           She moved me away from her and dropped to the ground in front of me, her mouth covered mine and her hand curled around my neck. Someone a few paces away cleared their throat and we turned to look at them.
           "Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
           "Puddin’,“ she let out a breathy giggle.

           To be continued?

anonymous asked:

[1/3] This may be really long and for that I'm extremely sorry! So I do pencil drawings and use markers, paints, etc. for the art that I do. And I want to post some of it on here. The thing is, it's not my art. I use other artists' work for my own PERSONAL practice (to get comfortable with drawing, find my own unique art style, challenge myself, etc. but I never post it publicly. I sometimes post on my PRIVATE ig account but never for money and I never claim to own the drawing.

[2/3] Yet some of my drawings are from official artwork. I’ve seen people redraw some official art and post it, or take a screenshot of the anime and draw that picture, but I don’t know for sure if you can do that. I’d like to know the boundaries of what I can and cannot post. And if I can post it, how do I show credit? I’m pretty sure that I cant post a redrawing of fan art, but what about official art? Is it the same thing? And also how could I convert from paper drawings to tablet drawings?

[3/3] LASTLY, sorry if that was hard to understand. I’m kinda just putting down questions as I think of them. But thank you so much in advance!! I really do appreciate this.

Hello! Don’t worry about your message being long, I’m always intrigued by those.

I can’t really speak for every artist out there, because it’s different for everyone. Some really dislike when people re-draw their art, some are neutral towards this. So, I’m going to speak for myself.

I never mind people re-drawing my art, personally. I don’t mind people posting their drawings whether a bit based on mine, or re-drawn completely. BUT I always say that if people choose to post, they have to credit the original artist. The majority or people who don’t mind it like me prefer it with credit as well.

As for official art, I think it’s less.. tricky? in a way. Like it’s already official, and nothing is going to change it, BUT, official art is still drawn by someone, and that someone has to be credited if you choose to post a re-draw.

Either you post it with a name and a link (if it’s possible) to original artist, or you post the link to the original artwork. But always try to search for the name…. I know a lot of pictures are lost in google uncredited, but image search can help with that sometimes, so! Always try to find an original source.

I’m not entirely sure what you mean by converting to digital your traditional drawings. You mean finishing them on tablet after sketching on paper? The better way is to scan and then do whatever you want using a drawing program like photoshop or sai or open canvas, there are a bunch of them. You can take a photo too but the quality is worse usually….Mmmm if you choose to draw on it digitally, make new layers, don’t draw on that photo/scan.

Hope it helps!~

do you ever wake
with electricity buzzing
beneath your skin?

i want to charge at
a group of cunts
and swing wildly
til they stamp me out.

when dad died i was
never mind, i wish
when they came in the night
for Osip i was there, sword drawn
like Simon Peter for Jesus.

i’d martyr myself
for the dead poets
who borne the world
and heard its cries,
for an artist who draws
from the ether to fuel her work,
for anyone who knows selflessness!

mainly i just want to die selfishly
claim some purpose
from it, like a child, the change 
i want to make is too much to bear
myself, but maybe if i lift another,
guide ever so slightly time’s hand
decades from now the trickle-down

could change the way you see the world

Two Brothers, One Girl

For the request for a Winchester threesome.

*No Wincest


“I hate witches!” Dean yelled as he headed for the Impala. “And what the hell is this shit she threw at us?”

You wiped a string of slime from your forehead. “I don’t know, but it’s really gross. I call first dibs on the shower when we get back to the motel.”

“I think some of it got in my mouth,” Sam said with a grimace. “And my nose.”

“Dude, I have it in places you don’t wanna know about,” Dean said.

The three of you piled into the Impala and Dean headed for the motel. You sat in the back, looking at the back of the Winchesters’ heads.

‘God, they’re even attractive from the back. And covered in goo….. Wait, what?’ The thought startled you—you’d never thought of the Winchesters as attractive before. They were practically your brothers.

‘But they’re not. They’re two strong, gorgeous men who’ve taken you in and asked for very little from you in return. And you’ve caught glimpses of them when they got out of the shower…’

What was happening to you? Why were you suddenly picturing them naked? And dripping wet…

You squirmed slightly, realizing that their toned chests and stomachs weren’t the only things dripping.

At that moment, the car drove through a pothole, bouncing you. “Ah!” you cried out, the shockwaves jolting through your pussy.

“Shit!” Dean said. “Sorry, Baby.”

Sam turned and looked back at you. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah… I’m fine.” You felt your cheeks heating under his gaze.

After what felt like an eternity, Dean pulled into the motel’s lot. You practically jumped from the car and ran into the room. You grabbed your bag on the way to the bathroom, shutting yourself away.

You leaned against the door, trying to catch your breath. Your mind was still filled with the images of the boys, this time doing unspeakable things.

‘What the hell is wrong with me?’

You caught a glance at yourself in the mirror. You were covered in the goo that the witch had thrown at you. Figuring out this mystery would have to wait until you got cleaned up.

You wondered if the shower had a removable showerhead.

‘Stop it,’ you thought as you stepped beneath the spray. ‘Pump the brakes.’

You turned the knob to cold, hoping that would help you calm down. You scrubbed yourself clean, washing your hair twice to remove all the goo. When you finally felt pristine, you turned off the shower and stepped out onto the bathmat, reaching for the towel you’d left on the sink.

“Looking for this?”

“Dean!” You quickly covered yourself with your hands.

Dean was leaning against the sink, your towel in his hand, just out of reach. “You often take cold showers, Y/N?”

“I… Dean, what are you doing in here?”

Dean pushed himself from the counter and stepped toward you. “I need you.”


Your question was barely out of your lips before Dean’s mouth was on yours. You found yourself melting into him, his arms wrapping around you.

“Dean,” you said as the two of you broke apart. “What… what’s this about?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. I’m a guy. You’re a girl. A hot girl.” He pressed against you and you could feel the bulge in his jeans against your thigh. “Have you really never thought about it?”

You bit your lip. “I… have.”

Dean’s mouth claimed yours again as he picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, not realizing he was walking out of the bathroom until he’d crossed the threshold.

“Dean!” you hissed. “What about Sam?”

“He wants you just as much as I do. We figured… we could share you?”

The thought thrilled you and you hoped Dean couldn’t feel the flood between your legs.

But from the smirk he gave you, you knew he could.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to do anything in there,” Sam said, drawing your attention.

“Calm down, Sammy. We didn’t do anything.” Dean dropped you down onto the bed where you tried to cover yourself up as best you could.

“Look at that,” Sam said with a smirk. “She’s shy.”

“It’s okay, baby,” Dean said, sitting down next to you. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“We’re gonna take care of you,” Sam agreed, sitting on the other side.

Dean leaned forward and began to kiss you while Sam’s mouth dipped down to your breast. The three of you soon stretched out on the bed and you felt their hands began to roam over your skin. You whimpered as they pulled away from you but you got quite the eyeful as they stripped off their clothes, revealing thick members.

Dean reached down, his fingers dipping into your sex while Sam’s circled around your nipples. “Oh, Sammy, she’s dripping for us.”

“You think she’s ready?” Sam asked, one of his hands dropping to his cock, stroking it slowly.

“I think she is.”

You watched as Sam handed his brother a condom. Dean rolled it onto his penis before stepping forward, pulling your legs apart. He looked up at you, his eyes boring into yours, and slowly pushed into you.

“Dean,” you moaned.

“God, Y/N, you feel so good,” Dean said, his eyes slipping closed, slowly thrusting.

You felt something brushing against your cheek. Turning, you saw Sam kneeling next to you, his cock at eye-level. Without a word, you opened your mouth, taking as much of him as possible. He groaned at the feeling of your lips closing around him.

“Sammy… I’m not sure I’m gonna last long,” Dean said, picking up the pace.

“I don’t know that I will, either,” Sam grunted.

Dean reached down and pressed his thumb to your clit, causing you to jolt. He chuckled. “That feel good, Y/N?”

You moaned around Sam, causing him to groan.

Dean kept applying pressure to your clit, his cock bumping against your g-spot. You closed your eyes as you began to peak, arching your back slightly.

Sam pulled his cock from your lips and began to stroke himself. He grunted as ropes of cum sprayed on your chest, your breasts glittering.

You clenched around Dean as he twitched inside you, spilling into the condom.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he pulled out slowly. “God, Sammy, we got a good one.”

Sam was still stroking himself, already semi-hard. “If her pussy is anywhere as good as her mouth…”

Dean leaned down and gave you a kiss before stepping into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. You watched him as Sam got in between your legs, rolling his own condom on. Your attention was drawn back to him when he pressed a kiss to your clit. “Sam!”

He smirked as he stood up, his full height making him tower over you. “Problem, Y/N?”

You shook your head.

“Good.” Sam slammed into you, causing you to cry out.

“Easy, Sammy,” Dean said, stepping from the bathroom. “We don’t wanna break her.”

“She can take it,” Sam said, thrusting in and out of your pussy. “Right, Y/N?”

You nodded. God, he felt delicious inside of you. You looked over at Dean, who was stretched out beside you, eyes half closed. You slowly reached over and gripped his cock, feeling it twitch in your grasp.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Dean asked.

“Sam got two. You get two.” You smiled up at him. “It’s only fair.”

Dean grinned at you. “Well, we fully plan on getting more than two from you, Y/N. But I’m certainly not going to tell you to stop.”

You jerked him off in time with Sam’s thrusts and soon, the three of you reached orgasm—Sam buried in your pussy, you clenched around him, Dean into your open mouth.

The three of you lay sprawled upon the bed, each trying to catch their breath. You reached up and wiped away some of the cum that had dribbled out of your lips. Glancing down, you were reminded that your chest was covered in the other brother’s cum.

“God, I need another shower.”

“Can we join you this time?” Dean asked.


The next morning, the three of you woke up, sprawled around the room—the boys in the beds, you on the couch. You sat up, feeling your joints crack.

‘That was one hell of a dream,’ you thought to yourself. You found you couldn’t look either of the boys in the eyes.

“Did… Did that witch goo give you guys weird dreams, too?” Dean asked.

You and Sam nodded.

“Cool,” Dean said. “I… what…” He shook his head. “Never mind. If it was anything like mine, I don’t want to know what you dreamed.”

The three of you sat awkwardly for a few moments.

“Right,” you said, standing. “I call bathroom.”

You stepped in with your bag in hand, the cold tile against your feet waking you up more. As you stood, brushing your teeth, you happened to glance down into the garbage can.

Where a pile of used condoms lay.

You gasped, nearly choking on your toothpaste.

It had only been a dream… right?

The Things You Find Online - M.C.

RequestI just got a good idea for an imagine. It could be with any boy, but like (y/n) would be Josh Dun’s little sister and he didn’t know that until he like sees pictures of her on Twitter or something saying that they were seen together idk. Like something like that and he gets really shocked or something. I think this would be good with Michael but idk it’s your choice.

Summary: Michael finds out his girlfriend is the little sister of Josh Dun. 

Pairing: Michael x Female Reader

A/N: not sure how I feel abt this? 

Josh Dun of Twenty One Pilots Seen At Columbus Airport With Little Sister Y/N 

Michael’s eyebrows furrowed as he clicked on the article, the title instantly drawing him in. His girlfriend Y/N had talked about her brother Josh before, but had never really gone into detail before, claiming that “it wasn’t important”. When he saw her name in the title, he immediately asked himself: could Y/N be his little sister? Everything clicked. Every time he turned on Twenty One Pilots, she would skip to the next song, claiming that she’s heard these songs way too many times before. Y/N got into every one of their shows without needing to purchase a ticket. 

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anonymous asked:

Hey Xamag. I don't mean to assume when I look at your art, but you draw your lines with such confidence and make it look so easy. I know that there's a process that leads up to that that amounts to years of hard work, but when you get to the point where you're at, does drawing start to feel easier or more rewarding? And if it doesn't, is there a "trick" to basically make you not hate yourself when you make art?

*inhales deeply*

when i was 13 i used to trace art a lot. i didn’t post it anywhere or claimed it’s mine or anything, i just wanted to pretend my drawings could look pretty. i distinctly remember telling myself i’d probably never be able to draw anything cool-looking on my own

…later that year i made probably my biggest leap in improvement

imagine how painfully ironic it would be if i just gave up right there, amirite? actually, not really. maybe i’d become a professional gymnast or a writer instead. who knows?

that being said though, i’ve only had a couple of terrible self-loathing artblocks, but that was back when i hated everything about myself in general

i started drawing because i used to write silly stories and needed to illustrate them. the concept of creating even the most crude, ugliest picture of what was in my head always seemed magical to me. i’ve barely even shown that stuff to anyone til the age of 14-15 when i started posting it on a forum.

i did the art for myself, i do the art for myself, i fucking LOVE doing it. i look at people who do art for themselves and hate every second of it and it saddens me deeply.

why do you hate the magical act of transforming ideas into material objects, anon?

is that because you feel like you failed the society? do you feel ashamed of showing your art to anyone because they expect you to be Michelangelo right from the start? because for some reason even people who don’t have to compete for a vacancy feel like they need to compare themselves to others to get their daily dose of disappointment?

i fucking refuse to be upset about that. FUCK YEAH i’m bad. FUCK YEAH my panelling sucks. FUCK YEAH i can’t draw wildlife to save my life. FUCK YEAH i still barely can animate. FUCK YEAH i’ll keep breaking my legs on this shit, because FUCK NO i’m not gonna let it win. FUCK YEAH that artist is better than me. FUCK YEAH i love them, keep going bruh, keep getting better, imma catch up with you eventually. i’m not in a hurry, i’m savouring those failures, i’m gonna laugh about them years later.

is that because you envy the younger and more promising ones? confound those art boys who took art classes or started drawing at young age, they drive me to drink!

it’s never too late, ok? just google “famous people who made it late” or something. i’d love to take those art classes now that i’m an adult tbh. young me didn’t really care about this stuff at the time and missed half of the most important shit.

is that because you feel like you’ve spent too much time on it and still didn’t get better?

look at kids. looks at those poor bastards. remember how hard it was to learn writing? those bullshit letters just wouldn’t obey, would they? it’s not because kids are stupid talentless little shits, that’s just how learning new skill works. it’s 99% suffering and 1% being like “hey i think i draw hands a little bit better now”. then finding out you forgot how to draw hands once again.

but in the end, it always feels like it’s worth it, it’s a discovery, an adventure. if it never feels like it’s worth it, if you only bear with it expecting to experience some sudden euphoria firework one day, maybe it’s just not your thing, anon. it’s ok, too. don’t force yourself to do things you don’t enjoy.

i hope it gets better, whatever you do. please don’t hate yourself for being a flawed human being.

anonymous asked:

Hey I really like your art, but I've been hearing a lot about you tracing and it looks like the evidence makes a lot of sense. Can you comment on this? Cause while I love supporting artists, I can't support someone using another person's work and claiming it original

This is old news, my friend, it happened a year ago. While I was mainly in the Markimoo fandom, and it was at it’s peek, people started doing whatever they could to get Mark’s - aka “senpai”s - attention, going as far as to start drama just to get “more popular” blogs down and “out of the way”. People started overlapping my drawings with the photos I had used as ref and claimed that I was tracing, even though you could CLEARLY see that it didn’t align at all. -But people believed that shit, and clearly you do too. At the time, I did speed drawing videos, but the jealous butt-hurt people just overlooked it, and kept witch hunting… 

There is a reason why my art looks a lot like the photos I draw from…: Because I work my ASS OFF. My art has always been completely free, and available for everyone to look at, or even steal. I did have an Etsy store, but people never bought any of my work. People claimed that I was taking attention away from other ‘less popular’ artists as well, which is such bullshit. - I would also like to say that there are many fan artists in all fandoms that trace, especially Mark’s fandom, but they are not “as important”, and not as fun to hate on as artists with a large following, apparently…

I do live art streams now, so you can come and watch me draw :) Never trust what a third party says, they most likely doesn’t know the whole story and feeds off of the negativity of others. The ‘witch hunt leader’ of the fandom was actually drunk the time they started the drama.

Day 12: SET C - “Gradient”

Your behavior towards me changed. You changed.

It was important to keep a close eye on the wielder of the keyblade.
Up to this very day, I cannot claim to know the full truth behind Xemnas’ – behind Xehanort’s plan. The essential part this boy played in it was obvious nonetheless. It was only logical to let you watch him.

As always though, you didn’t quite act as I was expecting.
You never did, and still I could have never forseen the outcome this would cause. By the time I realized, it was already too late.

I was already losing you to him.

[previous] [chapter overview]

The Thousand Deaths of Laurel Lance

Arrow recently killed off a major character. They killed a character that a lot of fans believed was safe, and essential to the Green Arrow mythology. But Arrow’s Laurel Lance started dying a long time ago. In a lot of ways, the character was doomed from the beginning because she was seen as part of Green Arrow’s mythology as opposed to a character with a history and myth-arch of her own. This is a long structural analysis of the missed opportunities I see in how Laurel Lance was written. 

Full confession. I’m not writing this as one of the betrayed. I started watching Arrow, and liked it. I’m a Felicity and an Olicity fan. It was when went back to pull comics, because I liked the show, that I first found and fell for Dinah Laurel Lance and the Black Canary. I didn’t come to the show with a deep love for the character, or big expectations, or a need that yearned to be fulfilled. Once I started reading I was mostly just confused. Because the Laurel Lance on screen was not the one I was meeting in comic books. I had a hard time reconciling them as the same character. (Translation: if you are coming here for Felicity hate, you aren’t going to find it. If you just want to talk about the opportunities that were missed with Laurel/Black Canary, read on.) 

Black Canary, my Black Canary, the one I met in comic books, is amazing. She’s got a fantastic set of stories with a lot of interesting and ripe history to draw on. Part of that collection, was her relationship with Green Arrow, but that romantic plot is not the best thing about her history. I think screen Laurel Lance never found firm footing in the show, or the fandom, because she was treated as a love interest before anything else. Everything that made the comic book version of the character really compelling, at least to me, was chucked before the opening credits of season one, episode one.

I know that there will be people who claim that given more time and effort the show writers could have fixed it. But I don’t think they could have. Basically, TPTB shrunk Dinah Laurel Lance so that Screen Laurel could be all about the Oliver Queen love story. Nothing in her history was left to compete with the prominence of that story. Then the love story was then bungled. (Structurally, from day one.) Without a love story, the writers didn’t know what to do with the character, she’d been stripped of too much. So they killed her in a trite and tone deaf way. Here’s what I see as the worst choices.

  1. My Black Canary got her superhero legacy from her mother.
  2. My Black Canary was never interested in philandering, pre-Green Arrow, playboy Oliver.
  3. My Black Canary would never have gone back to a man that cheated on her. With her sister. Then got that sister killed. Or at least put in mortal danger. Even if she forgave him. And her sister.
  4. My Black Canary met Oliver on the streets, already a super hero and vigilante.
  5. My Black Canary was involved with a very different Oliver Queen, one that went out of his way to make her laugh.

Let’s take those in turns. 

1. My Black Canary got her Superhero Legacy from her Mother.

This is everything. It’s the Alpha and Omega of what went wrong with Laurel. Once this was chucked, Black Canary stopped being a completely independent story. In the mythology, Black Canary often works with Green Arrow, but her path to the superhero world had nothing to do with him.

He doesn’t cheat on her creating trust and anger issues. He doesn’t get her sister shipwrecked so that said sister can end up trained as an assassin. He doesn’t then get involved, again, with that sister making her a target for his nemesis, so she dies and drives Laurel into despair. He doesn’t set an example for Laurel of recovery from trauma through vigilantism. He doesn’t train her. He doesn’t help her get her costume, or nifty canary cry. She never needs his team. He doesn’t mansplain the bad parts of the job to her. 

Screen Laurel Lance, though, needed Oliver’s story line to exist. She was always written as deeply reactive to Oliver, loving him, hating him; helping or hurting him were always prime motivations. If he disappeared again, her life would go back to being static. (Or near static)

Most of this is not in and of itself bad for a secondary character. But it does mean that Screen Laurel was a secondary character. She was not the Black Canary of the comic books who could take or leave Oliver, walk out of his existence and continue having crazy adventures. The Black Canary whose primary life and adventures mostly occur no where near Oliver Queen.

I mean, Oliver’s complex relationship with his father, is basically the entire motivation for season one. It’s not hard to imagine a story where Black Canary has a parallel plot, with equally complex and powerful reasons for being a vigilante tied to her mother. Hell, I kind of just want to watch that show with no Oliver at all. Give me Dinah Drake and Daughter(s). (I’m already a little flushed just imagining Alex Kingston as Drake facing down John Barrowman’s Merlin. The Dr. Who crossover fics would be amazballs.)

I think the choice to get rid of Black Canary’s independent back story was made because Screen Laurel Lance was supposed to be The Love Interest. So TPTB didn’t see the need to preserve her independent story line. I suspect they actually thought increasing the dependence of her story on Oliver was a good creative choice. That it would increase the will-they-won’t-they tension, and the resulting sense of satisfaction when the characters finally fell in lurve.

If that was the thought process, though, it was a stupid understanding of romance. And a stupid understanding of story structure and character structure in general. It reduced the possibilities for the character, and limited her potential growth and flexibility within the story. I’ll try to explain more of what I mean below. Because each of my next criticisms have to do with how the intended love story was bungled.

If you don’t care about Laurel’s love story. You can stop reading here. 

2) My Black Canary was never interested in philandering, pre-Green Arrow, playboy  Oliver.

So this is the first place that the love story went off the rails. It was a dangerous structural choice to have Laurel in love with early Oliver.

In the first season Laurel was a semaphore. Oliver cried over her picture on the island, because she was the symbol of what he’d lost. He chased her in Starling, because her love was the symbol of his past reclaimed. All pretty typical plot structure. But as anyone who has ever watched any romantic comedy or drama, ever, could tell you, the object of past adoration is never actually the final love interest. Laurel was written as synonymous with Oliver’s past. A past he was constantly trying to atone for. A past where he wasn’t a very good man. A past that the structure and drive of the story is constantly trying to move him away from.

This might not be named a bad drama in Aristotle’s Poetics, but its Storytelling 101, and nearly as old. Oliver hated who he used to be. Therefore, he has a psychological desire to redo that period of his life, and do it better. Very relatable. But we, the viewer participant, know that it’s impossible. Nobody actually gets to do it over. And the person who loved that older version of you, they don’t actually tend to like the newer versions of you. The driving tension of this story/trope/plot structure is that you can get the old flame back, but only if you become the version of yourself you hated. And most of us know the happy ending is choosing the better version of yourself. Which in this case, with this plot, would have to mean Oliver not choosing Laurel as a love interest.

In the comics, Black Canary meets Green Arrow after he’s become a vigilante. She is already on that path, slightly ahead of him, moving in the directions he wants to be moving. In that story she represents the future, the best version of both characters. And that’s exactly the structure that makes you want to smoosh two people together. Screen Laurel Lance has never been in that position. 

3) My Black Canary would never have gone back to a man that cheated on her. With her sister. Then got that sister killed. Or at least put in mortal danger. Even if she forgave him. And her sister.

I can’t even with this one. He slept with her sister. From Laurel’s season one perspective, he also got her sister killed. And this was after serially cheating on her for who knows how long. I don’t know anyone who would forget that, even if they somehow forgave the parties involved. Arrow premiered before Frozen taught TPTB that sisters put each other first, but still. This is no.  

I mean, Diego Rivera was the love of Frida Kahlo’s life, and she put up with a lot, but he still got dumped him when he slept with her sister. That is a betrayal of trust that isn’t tolerated by psychologically healthy people.

Screen Laurel should have been completely over Oliver. Not angry, jealous, vamping “over it,” but actually really Over. It. When Screen Laurel is still moony-eyed at Oliver after this particular series of events, she seems a bit unhinged. Which a ton of fans noticed.

The choice to behave this way was made so that TPTB could continuously flag the character as an available love interest for Oliver. She was contorted into a series of choices that telegraphed a person without self-respect. It put the character into an impossible psychological place, commonly called “the Crazy Ex- Girlfriend Trope.” The woman who is cruelly contemptuous one moment, then possessive, flirty, and seductive the next. All with a good dose of crying and angst. (And I do think that Rachel Bloom’s Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is the exception that proves the rule. Note: Josh still did not sleep with her sister.)

Making Laurel a crazy ex-girlfriend is basically asking your audience to find her disgusting. It’s a reductive position for any female character, and one we, as an audience, have been trained not to identify with.

4) My Black Canary met Oliver on the streets, when she was already a super hero and vigilante.

I’m sure you can already see the themes emerging in my criticism. And this one is also related to the problems of making Laurel the symbol of Oliver’s past, and the The Love Interest without developing anything else. But it’s was also the biggest missed opportunity to fix those problems.

Imagine if Oliver had come back from five years on Lian Yu, put on his hood, picked up his bow, and then met Black Canary. He sees her saving someone on the street without knowing her secret identity, and she earns his grudging respect. He only finds out later that this super heroine is also his old flame Laurel Lance. Meanwhile, she gets to know and respect the new him, only later realizing that he’s also the asshole ex she never wants to run into. 

Now, that’s a set-up for romantic tension.

If you don’t see it instantly, let me try and explain why that idea would work better than what the show did. First, the cathartic satisfaction of stories functions largely on a symbolic/metaphorical level. If Oliver comes back from Lian Yu and is exactly who he was before, that’s not actually a cathartic story. The pleasure in the story is mapping out how he has changed. Therefore, the story doesn’t want him to go backwards. Neither do those of us enjoying the ride along. We want the progression to continue, for Oliver to keep becoming more than he was. When Laurel is designated as the placeholder for Oliver’s past, the story doesn’t want to lover her. While the past motivates us, in stories the past is always the stick, it is never the carrot. We all eventually get tired of being beaten. For there to be true romantic potential, a character has to symbolize continued movement in the direction of change. They have to be a carrot.

If Laurel Lance had been Black Canary from the beginning, then it’s possible she could have held both positions. A reminder of the unhappy past we want to undo, and a companion slightly ahead of us, on the path we want to be on. That’s a crazy sweet spot for a character. Full of all sorts of dramatic irony. The kind of set-up that can really engage an audience and telegraph to the Jungian unconscious. There is nothing more pleasing than having a romantic pairing that affirms all parts of ourselves. But that’s not what they did. Laurel was never the carrot. She was never a step ahead of Oliver. He never needed her to do something new/different/bigger in his vigilante team.

Second, it would have been better if Laurel was the Black Canary from the beginning because romance between equals is hotter. It just is. People have been discovering, and rediscovering, that since before Much Ado About Nothing first premiered in the 1600s. Better writers than I have spent books explaining why, and explaining the stupid reasons we forget it. (Coughs into sleeve: “Sexism!” Sniffle, “excuse me.”)

And yes, the show has been working to undo that damage and equalize Laurel and Oliver, but honestly, they didn’t do much. The first time Laurel did something no one else on the team could do, (and possibly do better), was less than a month ago, when she prosecuted Damien Darhk. Far too little, far too late.

5) My Black Canary was involved with a very different Oliver Queen, one that went out of his way to make her laugh.

I don’t think anyone would argue that the Oliver Queen in Arrow is the classic version of Green Arrow. He’s a lot more stoic. And broody. (The character on TV that’s most like the classic GA is probably Richard Castle.)   Stephen Amell’s serious, scary Green Arrow is a completely different personality than old school GA. He’s not the Green Arrow that had a romance with my Black Canary.

Screen Laurel, though, she wasn’t that different. At least not in season one. Personality wise, when Screen Laurel was fighting crime as a career minded lawyer who worked with other lady lawyers, yeah, that actually was pretty close to my Dinah Laurel Lance.

The problem is, you can’t give one half of a couple a complete personality make-over, and then expect the couple to work in the same way. Especially when you’ve got them in a bad structural set up.  

So. Yeah. All of those bad choices were made before the first episode of the show. That’s how the love story was bungled. I don’t really think there was anyway to write out of that. 

And once the love story was bungled, I’m sure the TPTB saw Laurel as a walking reminder of things that they did wrong. 

Still, none of that meant that she had to die.

It’s an insult to all of the female viewers for a female character’s value and utility to be measured primarily in whether or not she’s The Love Interest.  Thinking that way makes for bad writing, and bad stories.

Laurel Lance could have decided that Star city had enough heroes and that she wanted to live near her mother for a while, work on that relationship again. Dinah Drake and Daughters is still a show I’d like to see.

iliveondaydreams  asked:

I've always loved the idea of Inuyasha (somehow) helping Kagome with her homework... Pleaseth? And thanks!

[A/N]: HOW MANY YEARS HAS IT BEEN SINCE YOU’VE SENT ME THIS PROMPT, LOVELY SHERRY? HAS IT BEEN YEARS, DECADES, WHO KNOWS, REALLY? POINT IS, HERE IT IS. No, but seriously though, sorry for taking so long, I wasn’t very sure on how to do this one, so instead of doing the comedy-ish drabbles I usually do, I decided to go with something a little fluffier and a lil bit angsty on the side [at some point]. I twisted your prompt just a teeny weeny bit, hope it’s okay! And I also hope it was worth the wait. Without furder ado, here it is:

Kagome groaned once again and threw herself on top of her desk, splattering her pencils all over the floor. Why was this so difficult? 

She had yet to believe in how smoothly the school year had ended, since she had barely had time to study while chasing down the shards and fighting Naraku’s nasty plans. She must’ve been smarter than she gave herself credit for.

And yet here she was, the last project due to tomorrow and she had zero clues of what to do. How does one fly by Math, History, English, Chemistry with average grades and yet nearly FAILS Arts class? Seriously. She didn’t even know you could fail that, she always assumed they’d just ask her to hand in some poorly drawn self portrait and she’d get a B and move on, simple as that.

Apparently, she was very wrong.

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ranenaysketchittarius  asked:

Jitters, whats your opinion on tracing?

Tracing is a good learning tool

But bad to claim as your own work (it’s honestly better to just keep tracing things to yourself)

I traced as a kid to learn shapes

Then from there, I went from tracing to trying to draw what I saw, so I’d look at a drawing and try to draw the same thing as best I could over and over until it was accurate

artists learn from observing and copying, it can be used to turn it in to something of their own

So yes, go ahead and trace, but be aware it’s a learning tool and should never be considered a ‘completed work’, nor is it your original work. And of course, not everyone is going to want you tracing, so it’s best to either ask first or simply keep it private.