so thats what they look like

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this is the first page of my bos! i finally got started on it thanks to @witches-ofcolor arranging this little event <3 thank you so much!
it’s a handmade book i bought three years ago in berlin and ive been saving it for something special like a book of shadows! 

- edit: lmfao i spelt “witch” wrong im ded i might redo this page

anonymous asked:

what if richs squip did look like jake wnd thats why he fuckibg listened 2 it????

consider this:

rich’s squip looking like jake because thats like, who he wanted to be. jake is cool and attractive and tall and involved and has a lot of friends and throws parties and thats who rich wants to be. but then he and jake, like, actually become friends so the squip, looking like rich’s new best, closest friend, kinda has a bigger hold on him than before

I’ve been thinking in doing a lettering thing for Mrs Hudson, and other day I found this tea lid that was sold at the Granada Studio Tour, so I decided to do something inspired on it and here’s the sketch. I was thinking of putting some canon reference at the top like “the tea that rises to the occasion” like in NAVA when Holmes says “Mrs Hudson has risen to the occasion” but I’m not sure, what do you think?

Want to know how shitty of a parent I am??

Puck lost a tooth 3 days ago and I keep forgetting TO BE THE FUCKING TOOTH FAIRY. Omg. This morning she woke up and was like WELP she didn’t come AGAIN.

I’m the worst. Someone message me tonight so I don’t forget. 🤦🏻‍♀️

mrs-celestial-dragneel-redfox23  asked:

Hcs dean secretly wants to braid all of sam's hair so that it can be curly but is to (i wanna say shy but i dont think thats the word) but anyways sam somehow finds out.

Originally posted by stayclassysupernatural

While Dean wouldn’t grow his own hair out, it worked for Sammy. Trying to imagine him with short hair felt almost wrong. Like, it would be taking away a part of who he was.

Of course, he never told Sammy that. Why would he? There was no reason- so he simply teased him about his hair like a big brother should.

Dean was curious, though. Sammy had straight hair. There was little to no wave in it. He wondered what his little brother would look like with curly hair. It was an amusing thought that usually passed his mind after a couple beers, causing him to chuckle to himself.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but he wanted to braid Sammy’s hair. Hell, he didn’t even know how to braid, and he wanted to. He was always seeing women with curlier hair from braids, right? Why not Sammy?


It had been a hell of a case, so before the bar, they bought some whiskey for back at the motel. They lost count at how many beers or shots they’d consumed before making their way back to their motel room.

Now, Dean was leaning against the headboard, whiskey in hand. Sam was lying on the other one, head hanging off the side, laughing at ‘Dean on the ceiling’.

“Hey, Sammy?” He asked, looking over at his brother.

“Yeah?”

Dean took another swig. “I really wanna braid your hair…” He told him simply. “Just to see what you would look like with curly hair.”

Sam rolled over and sat up too quick, making him sway and laugh. “Do you even know how?” He asked, obviously amused.

“No, but isn’t that what the internet is for? Ya know, besides porn?”

“Good point.” Sam nodded. “Let’s do it.”


Waking up the next morning, Dean groaned. Looking over to Sam, his eyebrows went up. “Uh, you have something in your hair.”

when i was like 14, i once wore contact lenses instead of glasses to school bc i had just learned how to put them on and i wanted to show them to my friends right, and this one guy goes and tells me “i thought girls were supposed to become beautiful when they stopped wearing glasses. something obviously went wrong with you” and that was??? so incredibly rude i wanted to cry but i just stood there not knowing what to say bc i honestly thought we were friends

but the girl sitting in front of him (who was also his crush, mind u) hears him and turns around with the most disgusted expression on her face, and calls him out on it like “omg i cant believe you said that have you even seen yourself in a mirror you have no right to tell her shit” and then she turns to me and says “dont listen to him, you look gorgeous with or without glasses” and she probably already forgot about that but i always remember it whenever i feel self-conscious about myself

so the moral of the story is: if u see someone being a jerk to someone else, dont laugh along and call them out on it. stick together and bring all the fuckboys down

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My heart is pierced by Cupid;

I disdain all glittering gold.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold.
___

I’m trying to fight my art block and I received some lovely suggestions I’m going to draw.

Mer!Hanzo and Pirate!McCree was one of these.
@rebeza and @finchworks are my inspirations and I look up to their designs and AUs ‘cause wow.

Have you ever seen a prettier Hanzo?

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Bethyl Appreciation Week 2017:

↳ ‘Day 4: Favourite Underrated Moment’

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Book II: The Sea of Monsters, Ch. 12 / pg. 183

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lurkeymclurker  asked:

Can you tell us about the Empires propaganda machine?

Later, after, in all the holonews segments and all the long ‘net articles furnishing further analysis, they—and here ‘they’ is vaguely defined, reporting is is too scattershot in a galaxy marked by lightyears and hyperlanes—will not be able to pinpoint the place where they went wrong. Where it was all tipped from earnest republican v. separatist reporting to laying the groundwork for imperial v. everyone else. When they stopped, or when their blades met with armor they couldn’t pierce, or—

But by then it’s too late. It’s too late, the Empire is already wound itself through every word spoken and every reference made; it’s in everything, a dark undercurrent of emotion and justification—don’t you love the Republic? don’t you care about other galactic citizens? don’t you want to follow the laws and reward those who have justified their existence as you have justified yours? you have worked so hard, the day is long and the rewards few, why would you give those to others? why would you share?

(’Sharing’ is a dirty word, under the Empire. To each according to his strength, that is the Imperial motto. But ‘strength’ is a narrow gate, and it cuts many off at the knees, the ankles, those unguarded places—)

There is no question that human beings are afraid of difference they have been afraid of that since whatever primordial swamp they crawled out of but—they have always put it aside, they have always at least pretended to the idea of recognizing other species, the claim of xenos to homeworlds. the equal right of existence. Et cetera. Never mistake how hard human beings will try, when confronted with tentacles, if there is profit or benefit in ignoring any difference.

But humans also reproduce like orburs in spring, and they colonize, multiply out into the galaxy like a plague. Like a—spore. Like something biological and not, because nothing in nature moves without regard to the animus they generate. And they are a tetchy species, measuring everything in relative value. It doesn’t matter if—

Luke does not stop to question the holoradio adverts he hears, the faded propos papering the Toshe public hall, saying ‘JOIN THE EMPIRE TODAY! FLY FOR THE EMPIRE! BE BRAVE BE TRUE BE STALWART!’ Anywhere is better than here, right? Get closer to that bright center and anything is better—

(It is still hard to find that bright line between the Republic under the tyranny of the Clone Wars and the perpetual state the Empire embodies. That is just how these things go.)

Leia is on the first line of defense for the Rebellion, she watches propos and listens to senators argue, quoting lines from holodramas—ironically, but also as illustrations. (She learns very young that a well-told story, even fictional, has quicker legs than one badly told and true. She disapproves, but that is the way of things.) It is amazing how many late Republicans would have supported he Empire despite explicitly stating they did not support the Empire, its agents, or any move toward a less democratic structure of government. It is amazing how weak it makes them seem, given what she knows about the inner workings of the capitol. It is—

Han is good at finding cantinas where, if the Imperial propos cut into he grav-ball match, everyone groans aloud. He smiles a little against the curve of the mug as everyone curses out the poor bastard who has to—

(Han always feels a little bad for him. Her. Whoever—he knows what it’s like to have your neck under someone’s boot, to know you don’t really have choice in this. At least he’s busy smuggling, can’t be much a spokesperson that way.)

The Resistance does not have the access the Empire does, but the Rebellion has feed hackers, holonet ‘ware corrupters. The Alliance blasts every inbox with public reveals of complaints, salaries, donations. Saw Guerra’s people de-encrypt transmissions, and release them to the ‘net in vicious anarchic fashion. (Make of it what you will, that Tarkin sent a transmission to Krennic saying ‘stop being so gentle on your workforce,’ after Krennic’s 12-hour days resulted in its first overworked, dehydrated, malnourished death.)

Regional reporters dump their findings onto the holonet, saying, look at what the governor is doing, we buried the jedi but we found, we—

look, they say in unison. look at this. you are not alone. you are not crazy. something has shifted, something significant has changed and you are not alone in thinking this. We are here, together, and this is dangerous, this is—

you are not alone. you are right, your perception of the world is—there is an objective reality, and they depart from it. you are right. you are sane. it is the galaxy that has gone insane in the interim.

“Senator?” the holonet reporter asks, when Mon Mothma falls silent, and she is smiling down at the podium. “Senator, if you could—”

“According to the study conducted by the Galactic Agency for—” she begins, and the briefing room falls so quiet she is afraid she has lost them. But there is a holonet reporter in the first row who has pressed her hand to her mouth, even as her eyes are wide, fixed on Mon’s face; and out of the corner of her eye, Mon can see Leia Organa (so much Bail and Breha’s daughter, even now) pressing her lips together, her eyes shut. And this is good. They are good, they are better. Here is the study. Here is the definition. Here is the closest she knows how to get to objective reality.

She justifies. From the root word, meaning justice. Meaning to make right. Meaning, more than what is what is available on the surface, more than what is unquestioned. More. 

So much more.