not so sure i should call this art though

I have this brush on Firealpaca called “Flat Brush”

which, if you increase the rendering distance, is basically just rotating squares (second pic). I really love this brush. I do my lineart with this brush and it’s also great to pick up colors and mix and mash them and this is how I do my painting. (I do keep the rendering distance at 5 % though..the second image is only to show the “roots” of the brush)
For the first bold colors I use the simple pen tool. And for the overlay light details I use a light texture brush ..which is kinda like a soft nebula the light doesn’t look too bold and edgy

When you mix up the colors try to avoid black and white but rather go for different colors which are light and dark. In this picture the base color for the shirt is blue. So I used different shades of blue, some purple and pinkish colors and a little bit of yellow and mixed it all up

I hope this helps!

Even though I am still very sad about Tary leaving, I had to draw something in honour of his new adventure. So here’s him and K’ryyn off adventuring in Wildemount! (Technically Doty and maybe Lionel should be there too, but this took long enough for me to make with just two characters :p)

alx-dailyprima  asked:

Eve: "Hey Underling! I noticed you've gotten yourself a name now, Sweet! The last thing I want is a boring nameless slave with no redeeming qualities. Now on to business, I've heard that you know how to cook? I'm curious as to how well though, so... Show me what you can do!" Eve pauses for a brief moment. "I suppose I should start calling you by your name now huh Forest, Better than Underling that's for sure!" She laughs, before laying on her back waiting for Forest to cook for her. She's Greedy

“Of course, my lovely Mistress! I learned how to cook back in AltoMare by some of the best chefs around! I know you like meat, so I cooked you some juicy Miltank Steak! Also prepared some meaty ribs and some fried chicken! To top it off, I specially ordered some of AltoMare’s world famous ice cream! I’d love to cook anytime you’d like, my mistress. I hope you like what I’ve made!”

(Forest smiles as Eve tries the food and cleans up his grill where he had prepared the food earlier.)


I couldn’t draw a paper plate to save my life D: I also had to use some creative commons art of the food cause I can’t draw food either ;-;

anonymous asked:

You've been the only faberry author whose fics I still look forward too. Been hoping another fic that was written well and was interesting would appear and it did. It's not getting much love though. Short of making multiple accounts and favouriting following and reviewing I'm not sure what to do but I know lots of remaining faberry shippers still come by your blog. Fic's called fight for you. If you're reading and you like it show you are into it. I don't want to lose this fic to abandonment.

I did read the first two chapters but haven’t really gotten back to it–partly because I haven’t been reading much of anything lately and partly because I’m not super into the martial arts universe. It seems very well written though, so yeah, people should go check it out. 

Fight For You 

Don’t Get too Close it’s Dark Inside 

olicity || ao3 || mature || angst || 1995 || more fics

summary: What happens when the love of your life comes back from the dead, but they are no longer the person you knew?  
a/n: this was a lovely prompt given to me by @poseley and I really hope I did your idea justice

tagging: @releaseurinhibitions @honorthedeadbyfighting @missfsmoak @multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl 

Oliver Queen was dead.

At least he was supposed to be.

Felicity had been struggling with the loss for weeks. He died on a mission; on her watch and she couldn’t stop feeling guilty about it. She was supposed to watch over him and help keep him and the rest of the team safe. She couldn’t even bring herself to go back into the foundry. As far as she knew no one had been back in there.

The funeral was one of the hardest things that Felicity had to sit through.  She had to watch the man she loved, the man she didn’t get to express her feelings to, get buried six feet under. Her chest ached and her stomach twisted as she sat there. She couldn’t push herself to stand in front of their friends and speak. She could barely even stand to look at Thea and not feel guilt racking her insides. That girl had lost so much and now her brother was gone too.

The first few weeks were difficult. She didn’t want to get out of bed or do anything really. She had to force herself to go to work, but felt like she was on autopilot. People talking to her sounded like buzzing in her ear instead of actual words.

Keep reading

Pregnancy Story Pt.1

I felt some inspiration on this one tonight, and actually got something completed! Yay me! It will definitely be a multi-parter just because of how ling it took me to write this, and how much more I want to put into it. I really do hope you enjoy this!

Keep reading

Comedy Tragedy History (Acoustic Remix)
Comedy Tragedy History (Acoustic Remix)

(“Akala demonstrates and explores the connections between Shakespeare and Hip-Hop, and the wider cultural debate around language and its power.” Nobody appropriates Shakespeare like Akala. See his TED Talk.)

Day boy Akala’s a diamond fella
All you little boys are a comedy of errors
You bellow but you fellows get played like
The cello, I’m doing my ting
You’re jealous like Othello.
Who you? what you gonna do?
All you little boys get Tamed like the Shrew
You’re mid-summer dreamin’
Your tunes aren’t appealing
I’m Capulet, you’re Montague, I ain’t feeling
I am the Julius Caesar hear me
The Merchant Of Venice couldn’t sell your CD
As for me, All’s Well That Ends Well
Your boy’s like Macbeth, you’re going to Hell
Measure for Measure, I am the best here
You’re Merry Wives of Windsor not King Lear
I don’t know about Timon
I know he was in Athens
When I come back like Hamlet you pay for your action

Dat boy Akala, I do it As You Like
You’re Much Ado About Nothing
All you do is bite it
I’m too tight, I don’t need 12 knights
All you little Tempests get murked on the mic
Of course I’m the one with the force
You’re history like Henry IV
I’m fire, things look dire
Better run like Pericles Prince Of Tyre
Off the scale, cold as a Winter’s Tale
Titus Andronicus was bound to fail
So will you if Akala get at ya
That’s suicide like Anthony & Cleopatra
Cymbeline was a modern day Bridget Jones
Love’s labours lost, a woman on her own
She needed Two Gentlemen Of Verona
This is Illa State and I am the owner

Wise is the man that knows he’s a fool
Tempt not a desperate man with a jewel
Why take from Peter to go pay Paul
Some rise by sin and by virtue fall
What have you made if you gain the whole world
But sell your own soul for the price of a pearl
The world is my oyster and I am starving
I want much more than a penny or a farthing
I told no joke, I hope you’re not laughing
Poet or pauper which do you class him
Speak eloquent, though I am resident to the gritty inner city
That’s surely irrelevant
Call it urban, call it street
A rose by any other name, smell just as sweet
Spit so hard, but I’m smart as the Bard
Come through with a Union Jack, full of yard

Akala, Akala, where for art thou?
I am the black Shakespearian
The secret’s out now
Chance never did crown me, this is destiny
You still talk but it still perplexes me
Devour cowards, thousands per hour
Don’t you know the king’s name is a tower
You should never speak it
It is not a secret
I teach thesis, like anicent Greece’s
Or Egyptology, never no apology
In my minds eye, I see things properly
Stopping me, nah you could never possibly
I bare a charmed life, most probably
For certain I put daggers in a phrase
I’ll put an end to your dancing days
No matter what you say it will never work
Wrens can’t prey
Where eagles don’t perch
I’m the worst with th words
Cos I curse all my verbs
I’m the first with a verse to rehearse with a nurse
There’s a hearse for the first jerk who turn berserk
Off with his head, cos it must not work
Ramp with Akala, that’s true madness
And there’s no method in it, just sadness
I speak with daggers and the hammers
Of a passion when I’m rappin I attack ‘em
In a military fashion the pattern of my rappin
chattin couldn’t ever map it
And I run more rings round things than Saturn
Verses split big kids wigs when I’m rappin
That boy Akala, the black Shakespeare
Did not want to listen, when I said last year
Rich like a gem in Ethiope’s ear
Tell them again
For them who never hear