i wish i had skill

thelastunicorg replied to your postToday in Idiots On Facebook

oh I wish I had the skill to make an i lik the bred about vaccines

The problem is that all of the words involved area really long, though. And who would be the subject? I think you’d have to take some liberties with the content format even if you could stick to the dimeter and rhyme scheme. And now I have to try, darn it. You knew that when you said this didn’t you

I am vaccine
teaching for health
your body to 
defend itself
but when too young
to get innured
rely on friends

protect the herd

youtube

「天ノ弱」~Heaven’s Weakness (A Pining!Langst Animatic)

Music & Lyrics: 164 (sm14583646)
Cover: Shinshakaijin & Wing (sm18605852)
(Youtube) (Twitter)

(TW: some scenes may be seen as pseudo injury/bleeding. Also, angst.)

It’s my first time to try making an animatic, and behold it ends up being (k)langst. Wing’s piano cover of this song always destroys me whenever I hear it, and to me it’s one of the ultimate heartwrenching songs. I wish I had the time and skill to put the translated lyrics on the video as well because they make me just (つ﹏<)・゚。 (The VLD and Klance angst weeks are still days away but look at what I’m doing…speaking of Klangst week do they accept entries for day 1 this early?)

I will greatly appreciate any constructive comments or feedback! (I’m still a beginner so I know there’s a lot of mistakes and ahskdsd things I’m so sorry I will now go to a corner and mull over my life choices.)

My favorite thing about the clip is how Yurio’s EX skate features Otabek in it. The logistics make me giggle.

Like. “HELLO NEW ‘BEST FRIEND’ I MADE 3-5 DAYS AGO. YOU SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN BRONZE AND ALSO I DON’T WANT THE SILVER MEDALIST / MY RIVAL TO UPSTAGE ME WITH HIS ROMANTIC PAIR SKATE SO WON’T YOU JOIN ME IN THIS SKATE CELEBRATING MY GLORIOUS DEBUT ON THE WORLD’S STAGE.”

Yuri’s capable of the kind of impulse decision making skills I -WISH- I had.

7

The Blushing Game (part 1)

(feat. Aang invoking Kyoshi, Korra being sweet and Azula discovering about herself)

Sorry for being sketchy, I didn’t have much time.

Based on this

3

▸ OnS ✕ AO!!
AU where the apocalypse never happened, but vampires exist and Mikaela got turned into one and decided to abandon his family and his friends in order to protect them from the monster he has become.
His brother Etsugo and his childhood friend Yuuichirou will do anything to get him back.

deathordesire  asked:

I really like your books, and was wondering if you plan on making anymore, or writing them i mean?

Oh yes, absolutely! I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was twelve, and I don’t plan to stop any time soon.


Here’s what I’ve published so far:

Grovedaughter Witchery - A book of secular magic based on my personal practices, with instructions for building your magical supply kit, writing your own spells, and creating various charms and talismans to augment your magical practices, topped off with a generous helping of practical advice. I wrote this to be the book I wish I’d had when I started out as a witch. Useful for all skill levels, and especially recommended for beginners and newcomers to the craft.

The Sisters Grimmoire - A book of secular spells based on the works of The Brothers Grimm. There’s a deliberate emphasis on simple materials, personal empowerment, and spells that function as tutorials for magical tools and methods from basic to intermediate. Useful for all skill levels. (Collaboration with Anna Zollinger.)

The Witches’ Cupboard - A book of magical powder recipes, with instructions for creating magical powders, suggested uses, and possible sources for raw materials. This functions more as a supplemental work for practitioners looking to beef up the potions-and-powders section of their repertoire. Useful for skill levels from intermediate to advanced. (Collaboration with Anna Zollinger.)


And here’s what I’ve got in the works:

The Sisters Grimmoire, Vol. II - A sequel to the book of the same name listed above. This time, we’ll be taking a trip through the collected works of Andrew Lang, author of the well-known Fairy Books of Many Colors (The Red Fairy Book, The Blue Fairy Book, etc). The emphasis on simple materials and easy-to-learn spells continues, with new methods and new concepts to add to your repertoire.

The Grovedaughter’s Garden - A witch’s guide to simple windowsill and patio gardening, detailing how to grow, harvest, and store your own herbs and flowers for magical purposes. No yard? No experience? No problem! This book will show you how to save time and money on supplies with basic, easy-to-grow plants with a multitude of magical uses.

I’m hoping to get at least one of them published by the end of the year, so stay tuned! :)

anonymous asked:

hi julia i really love your artwork and animatics!! your animatics are so funny and beautifully made and they always make me laugh ;u; thank you so so so much for existing jdjsjjsjjdjsjsjjsjdjsj ilysm!! I wish i had your art skills, you're a huge inspiration to me and i hope to be like you one day! also i was hoping you could draw a quick sketch of john laurens and his turtle ^^' ily again! [hello from Massachusetts :)]

aaa thank u sm for this lovely ask!

this was suprisingly relaxing to draw

It’s very late, but I drew a Mason for the H4nniversary event! Tome-wan is definitely a great episode..

Also… Four years of Hannibal! Wow! I can’t believe I almost didn’t watch it back at Halloween. And now I’m in the best fandom I’ve ever joined. Thank you all :)
(My hannibal sideblog is so much fun)

@roadswewalk I wish I had any photoshop skills whatsoever! This is a lovely idea…I hope you won’t mind that I ran with it:


Home again. Sherlock is alone, or he’s supposed to be. John has placed him on twenty-four hour watch, and taken the first shift himself. He’s sat Sherlock down in his chair, and placed a mug of tea at his left elbow, but he won’t sit, won’t talk. He shuffles around in the kitchen, fussing about with a bag he picked up at Boots. 

Sherlock’s whole body is a mass of aching withdrawal and bruises. He is a walking, breathing pang. He doesn’t want to take paracetamol, or whatever else John has arranged for him to have. He wants to crawl every inch of his recovery on his own. He can’t allow whatever help John is preparing to offer.  

John clears his throat. He hovers in the kitchen doorway, his left hand clenching and releasing. 

His right hand is coiled into a fist. No: his fingers are curled around something. A small bottle, a vial. Sherlock’s stomach flips, as his mind whispers sweet possibilities. What will he say, if John offers him a top-up, a little something to ease the pain?

No. The answer has to be no. Besides, John would never. John is here to watch him, to make sure he doesn’t use. What, then? 

Sherlock shifts in his chair. The small movement sets his nerves to screaming, but he won’t complain. For John, he’ll breathe through each moment. 

For John, he will speak, will try to break whatever stalemate this is. “Won’t you sit down?”

“Mm.” A non-answer. 

Sherlock wills himself to continue through this moment, and the next. He picks up the mug, deliberately, lifts it to his mouth, and sips tea. He waits. He has no choice.

“I wonder–” John starts. He stares at the empty air behind Sherlock. Shakes his head. Rubs his eyes. 

“Yes?” 

Sherlock wonders, not for the first time, how things became so strained between them. He knows. Of course he does: too much damage, too much heartache, too many words unspoken. 

John shakes his head, walks stiffly to the desk, and pulls out the hardbacked chair. He places it inches away from Sherlock’s chair, and sits. So close, so quickly. Sherlock blinks at his tea, risks a glance at John’s face. John is looking down at his right hand. His fingers uncoil. Sherlock frowns at what he sees there. 

Nail polish. Sea Blue. 

When John speaks, his voice is gruff. “Hold out your hand.”

“John, I assure you, I am in need of many things, but a manicure is not one of them.”

John shakes his head. “No. We’re doing this.” He shakes the bottle, much more vigorously than necessary. He unscrews the cap, rests the bottle on the arm of the chair, and removes the brush, careful not to let it drip. He holds out his hand for Sherlock’s. 

Sherlock places the mug carefully on the side table. His hands are inclined to shake. He tries to keep still as he offers his left hand, his palm resting on John’s. John paints a swath of nail polish over Sherlock’s thumbnail. Sherlock sighs. The sensation is pleasant. Cool, in contrast to the heat of John’s hand. 

“Not that I mind, John, but are you going to tell me why?” He can’t help asking. The silence is too intense, too monumental. He shudders as John works on his index finger. 

“Withdrawal. You’re going to start to itch soon,” John says. His voice is whisper soft. He follows the ritual he’s established for himself: dipping the brush, shifting his hand under Sherlock’s to hold him still, running the brush over the nail of Sherlock’s middle finger, then his ring finger. 

“And?”

“The nail polish is bright, and your nails will feel a bit different to you. I’m hoping it will serve as a reminder not to scratch. No good going through withdrawal if you come out on the other end with all your skin hanging off.”

Sherlock chuckles, his voice low. His skin already feels like it’s hanging off. It would make no difference to him, if he stripped it all raw, but he will try not to, for John.

John finishes with Sherlock’s left hand. He leans over it, his thumb running over Sherlock’s skin, and blows a light stream of air over the nails. 

Sherlock closes his eyes, feeling John’s breath on him, and the warmth that builds in his belly, and the relief from the pain he holds inside him. 

It’s temporary, but so very welcome. 

“The other hand, then,” John says.

Sherlock shifts in the chair, his whole body turning toward John, so he can offer his right hand. John leans over this hand as well, and he is so close, inches away from Sherlock. Sherlock breathes John in: the scent of the pomade he’s taken to wearing, ever since he allowed his hair to grow longer. The faint scent of toothpaste. It’s all bathed in the much stronger scent of the nail polish: butyl acetate; ethyl acetate. Overripe banana and pear, mixing with the stench of toluene. Not nearly enough to get high on. 

“Do you really think this will work?” Sherlock asks. He casts his eyes down to watch John work. John is hardly himself, hasn’t been himself for years, Sherlock knows, but at least he still has good, steady hands. It’s something. It’s a lot. Maybe, even, enough to start something new. 

John finishes painting the nails of Sherlock’s right hand. He purses his lips and blows air across them as well. Sherlock shivers. 

John frowns as he screws the lid back on the bottle. He puts it on the desk behind him. Sherlock holds up his hands to admire them. 

“I hope you like the colour,” John says. “Matches your dressing gown.” Not answering Sherlock’s question. Evasive. John is still sitting in the chair, inches away. To Sherlock’s surprise, he shifts forward, and his knee presses into Sherlock’s thigh. 

Sherlock sighs. “It’s…nice. It looks nice.” He wiggles his fingers. It does. 

John sighs raggedly. He takes Sherlock’s hand in his again. This time, he turns it over. He leans in. He presses his cheek to Sherlock’s palm. 

Sherlock is unable to move, unable to speak. John’s eyes are screwed shut. He rubs his cheek against Sherlock’s hand, the first hint of afternoon stubble scratching Sherlock’s skin, his fingertips. John presses his lips to Sherlock’s wrist, kisses his pulse point. 

“Please remember,” John says. “Don’t hurt yourself. Please don’t hurt yourself any more.” 

They hold there for a long moment. A tear escapes from the inside corner of John’s left eye, makes a track down his face. Sherlock is turning inside out, his whole world coalescing down into his hand, into John, into the shade of blue that adorns his nails. 

“I won’t, John. I won’t.”

Original art by SARDINE, animation edits by Agent Pretty Hair

Posted with permission from artist. 

No edits, re-uploads, etc. are allowed for this art on any website. Please contact me if you have any queries/requests.

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The #au #alternateuniverse no one asked for: Flame demon Yuri and dishonored swordsman Yuuri form a begrudging alliance to rescue the lost fairy king of winter, Victor.

(Chris is a rather unhelpful sage/wizard, and Otabek is…. well, he’s there and he’s not happy about it. But also secretly awesome.)

I wish my writing skills were awesome enough (and I had time) to make this. If any authors out there want to, I will totally shower you with art and love.

streamoflillies  asked:

Ive been thinking about the whole *jon follows everyone, Ryan follows everyone but jon, Brendon follows no one* thing, and I started picturing jon like holding his arms out for a hug and everyone's ignoring him, and Brendon like standing on something tall and just being like *fuck you all, even though you all boosted me up here* and it made me sad, but I also wish I had art skills so I could draw it

PLEASE MAKE A CRUDE DRAWING OF THIS. SOME ONE. ANYONE PLEASE.

~Beebo