sometimes i like to pretend i know how to use photoshop

anonymous asked:

also, sam & shiro friendship feat. CANT STOP WONT STOP NOT SURE HOW TO STOP / I don't know how to make things right. So I'll keep pretending nothing's wrong. (pick one! or both! or neither! your choice!)

(Wondering what this is?  This is the 800 Followers Special!  Find out more here.  These requests are now closed.  Don’t wanna see these because there’s a lot of them coming over the next couple of weeks?  Blacklist ‘800 Followers Special’.  Hate reading on Tumblr?  These will be going on AO3 as ‘This Paradox Place’ a couple of days after posting.  Thanks to Xagrok for betaing!)

I don’t know how to make things right. So I’ll keep pretending nothing’s wrong. (you know that I’m not good)

It was a rare occasion that Sam saw Shiro’s bare chest and back.

Part of that was opportunity.  It was deeply unusual to find Shiro in any kind of undress these days.  He kept himself habitually covered from neck to toes, only his hand and face showing skin.  Even that wasn’t a perfect cover.  Not only was there the long, painful looking scar that crossed Shiro’s face, something he could never properly hide, but there was also the smaller marks.  Little nicks and pockmarks on his hand, one thin sliver of a cut that edges out past Shiro’s sleeves.  Ones that aren’t obvious, can’t be seen unless you’re looking.

Sam wasn’t always looking, but sometimes he couldn’t help it.

By now, he was mostly used to the face scar, despite the way that it aged Shiro by a solid half a decade.  And Sam knew the scar alone did that - once, in a moment of pained curiosity and insomnia, he’d coaxed one of the castle’s computers into producing something like photoshop, and saw for himself.  Under the scar, he looked how he used to.  Even the white hair and pale skin don’t do so much to age him.

That, Sam could adjust to.  None of them have any choice, least of all Shiro.  It becomes the new normal quickly.

But the boy’s chest and back were different.  Sam never got the chance to, and each time it was a smack to the face.

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The Fundamentals of Character Development, Part 2: Pillars

Hello everyone, it’s Penemue. Sorry that it took so long to put up the next part like I promised. I had some things I had to escape. Anyway, in part one, we talked about the cornerstone foundations! Now, it’s time for part two- the pillars. 

Well, writers, let’s jump right back in!

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Holding On To You

wordcount: 7071

genre: fluff/angst

warnings: swearing

summary: Phil wishes he knew Dan better, completely and totally, because they’ve only been friends for two years and that’s by far long enough to love Dan and be worried about him, but it’s not enough to recognize all the demons. (aka a bunch of headcanons about the evolution of their dynamic; title from 21p)

The silence has stretched out for over a minute, and Phil lets the tension in his jaw relax. Over. Finally. He lets the bed creak as he stands, a warning that he’s coming, but it’s echoed by a creak in the floorboards in the room over, and Dan’s pacing again.

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non-whitewashed korra gif coloring tutorial

i’ve noticed way too often that many legend of korra gif makers constantly whitewash korra and frankly its gross and needs to stop (and this also goes for other darker skinned characters in the avatarverse like katara and sokka) im making this tutorialsh thing on how to color even the most troublesome scenes without whitewashing our beautiful protagonist

please feel free to message me with any questions u may have! i’m happy to help anyone w/ coloring whatever scene if it means i get to stop seeing a whitewashed version of korra every 2 minutes

wow just look at that beautiful skin tone :o

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Dear Syco intern,

I’m slightly offended that you didn’t include me into your recent “what would it take for you to give up your belief and accept this farce as legit” little tour, but I want to display my complete dedication as a fan and simultaneously give you a hand, because I’m very aware of how hard your job can be. So, here’s a few tips right out of my hat, something basic I’m sure you can elaborate with accurate backgrounds.

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Public Indecency

@goldcaught requested “ ‘You’ve got to pretend-date your best friend for a couple of weeks because reasons, and somehow that means we’re passing ourselves off as siblings to explain why we live together but we’ve started giving each other really filthy pre-sex looks behind everyone’s back like a game of chicken and pretty soon somebody is going to start to have serious concerns about our siblinghood.’ for tropes day.  I took some creative licenses.  Hope you enjoy!

              “You’re doing what?”

              Caroline sighed as Klaus glared at her back, and then muttered a curse when her character – Bowser, of course – was hit by behind by a turtle shell.

              “You bastard!” she growled at Enzo.

              “Guess you should have chosen Red Team rather than Blue, Gorgeous,” Enzo replied with a grin, leaning into her side as he took a sharp corner.  Caroline shoved him off the couch, allowing her to zoom by him, and laughed victoriously.

              “Eat my dust you ass!” she replied, somewhat maniacally.  She took another corner and her foot landed on Enzo’s – who was still lying on the floor – gut as Bowser crossed the finish line in first.  Caroline leapt onto the couch, pointing down at Enzo.  “Suck on that!”

              “You’re a cruel winner, Gorgeous,” Enzo replied, his voice wheezing slightly as he rubbed his stomach.

              “But I’m still a winner!”

              “Love, please,” Klaus interrupted, reaching out and tugging on her tank top so she fell onto her butt on the back of the couch. “I understand that you take your Mario Kart quite seriously, but could you please explain to me again why I’m being kicked out of the apartment we share for the two days?”

              “Correction, Mate,” Enzo interjected, sitting up and resting his arms on the couch cushions.  “Gorgeous and I live here.  You’ve just moved in without permission because you can’t go a night without sex.”

              “Apparently, I’m about to go two nights without sex,” Klaus replied, shooting Enzo a glare. “And I’d rather like to know why.”

              “I told you Klaus,” Caroline replied, her voice filled with infinite patience now that the race was over.  “Enzo’s family is coming for a visit.  His brother, Damon, is a total douchecanoe who, along with his perfect girlfriend, Elena, think that anyone without a significant other deserves their pity and/or mockery.  So they think I’m his live in girlfriend.”

              “It serves a dual purpose – Elena thinks that Caroline is perfect for my boring brother, Stefan.  But so long as she thinks we’re together, she won’t try and hook them up.”

              “Well, now she has an actual boyfriend.  Me. So, really, this is just helping you, Lorenzo.”

              Enzo and Caroline exchanged looks, the one that sometimes drove Klaus insane, but that he’d grown accustomed to.  With Caroline came Enzo, she had made that clear from day one.

              “I’ll talk to him,” Caroline said at last.  “You get the props the out.”

              “Aye, aye, captain!” Enzo clicked his heels together. “We’ll need to come up with a reason for a lack of ring.  Last time, it was that you were still in school but you’ve graduated.”

              “I’ll think about it,” Caroline promised, before turning to Klaus.  She turned around, so her legs dangled over the back of the couch, and tugged his hands until he stepped between them.  She cupped his cheeks and pulled him in for a searing kiss, the kind that almost made him forget his own name.

              But not that she had, apparently, been Enzo’s fake girlfriend for two years.

              “Pleasant as this is, I’m not so easily distracted, Love,” Klaus murmured between kisses.

              “Mmmm, you can be if you let yourself,” Caroline replied, kissing her way down to his neck and nibbling on the skin over his pulse point.  

              “Caroline,” Klaus replied, his voice holding a warning, and he pulled away and stepped out of her reach.  Caroline pouted and crossed her arms.

              “Well, you’re no fun.”

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Poor little butthurts of the ‘sessbian‘ vommunity (yeah i spelt it right, the obsessed who believe the sun rises and falls with Rob and Twigsessed) it must really chap your asses, that how many ways you choose to ignore, block and not read ‘basic comprehension‘ how many reasons you need to feed your sad, pathetic lives with vitriolic Kristen hate,  Kristen is not only owning your sessed asses, by continuing her movie career - long after you believed she was ‘past, over, forgotten‘ because you are like a broken record; ignored, tossed aside, tossed out, because its the same squeaky, scratchy, repetitive argument, over and over and it doesn’t get any better, but she also controls your waking moments. Attacking pro RK blogs for vindication, wow you really are sour and twisted, must be all that ‘up her ass Twigs love‘ you have going on there?

First rule in a fandom - check your facts first. Fact checking lessens the need to lie, falsify and indeed photoshop with a story you sell to the rags, because they don’t check facts, they just print to earn money of a celebrity’s back. Second rule is own your voice. Hiding behind anon accts/sock accts is so pathetic, so childish, so boring. If you have balls enough to attack someone on ‘their‘ blog, have balls enough to own your vitriol. At least that’s how anyone who is not afraid to speak and own their mind, do it. Not run your mouth off and then pretend you are anon. On the internet you are not an anon, you are just another pathetic internet troll and will be treated as such. Thirdly, sell a story that doesn’t have more holes in it than a tea bag. Twigsessed, as much as i admire your energy going after a relationship that doesn’t exist…geography (being from the US, still in high school, live in Europe were you have never gone outside your front door, nevermind travel outside your own country)…fact checking on distances between one part of the UK and another and travel arrangements has never been your strongest point. It’s an hour from Belfast to London. Flights from BEL to LDN finish at 11pm at night. Travel from London to the IOW is a few hrs by train, several more hours by car (small island at the bottom of Britain. Then it can only be accessed by Ferry (boat that goes across the water) has a scheduled route, that has restrictions and is not a constant roll on roll off boat (again fact checking is a must) like you seem to think. Backs of heads, heavy coats or hats for September in the UK - WTF? Do we live in Russia???? Oh that’s right the most prolific lying of the robsessed sites is Russian…hmmmmm?…

Suggesting that Richard and Claire Pattinson would take in a soft porn show…just goes to show the depths, you pathetic little muppets will go to. To tag your sessed parent’s, for whatever sickfucksessed story you’ve got going around  is just the beginning of the end in your idiocy. Yes you will no doubt find Twigs outside such venues, let’s face it, the performer is all kinds of rubber, bondage and overt ‘open’ sexuality, so that would be just her ‘thang‘ But parent’s with self upholding morals and respect, who have raised 3 children with more morals inherited than there are in this fandoms baby finger…as a parent myself i say once more, your story telling is just stupid and laughable.

Attack, believing Kristen is dismissing mental health, again reading comprehension is lost in some people. Real pr Pro; the prolific Robsessed, a one time Kristen supporter, whose activity in PR does not stretch to the entertainment world (believe me) knows my stance on her usage of (Kristen has mental health issues, she’s bipolar etc) needs to shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down. She has NO facts, that Kristen has any OR  has suffered any mental health issues. She has NO proof that she ever did. Only her own assumptions and like most assumptions,  there is always an ASS at the beginning of it, spreading it about. Armchair psychology is something unfortunately some seem to think they are an expert in. When all they are doing is proving once again, what asshats they really are. A pill doesn’t cure your problem, its not some magical  ‘fix it all‘ it’s used in a controlled situation, where therapy/conselling and repeated exercises in combating the issues, addressing the issues and controlling the issues affecting your mental health, can be used ‘with it‘

Kristen was neither dismissing it or condemning it. She merely accepted that it’s not going to cure your problems and that ‘feeling’ your emotions, ‘addressing’ your pain and trying to control ‘without‘ drugs can sometimes work. Rather than using medicated excuses as to way to fix you. It doesn’t  work with everyone, her sense in believing medication/pills just deadens/numbsthe pain is a very grown up and realistic approach to thecontext of that part of the interview. And NOT as ‘some idiots seem to think as her blind ignorance. The only ignorance and it is very blind i see are from the corner who seem hell bent in putting a young woman down for being able to stand by her beliefs and ‘own’ them. If you don’t see that, refuse to acknowledge what she was trying to put across, as the reporter seemed hell bent in putting Kristen in a corner. The maybe you need to go back to school, including some ‘older fandom participants’ who seem to think they know better.

Photographs Never Lie.

Above is an actual photograph, of an actual event, in an actual location. However, it was claimed to represent an event that never happened. The photograph though is still real. In fact it was never retouched or manipulated, it was only cropped slightly. It’s a straight photograph of something that actually was real, a toy submarine with a serpent’s head grafted onto it, that was presented as something it wasn’t: a photograph of the Loch Ness monster.

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I’m a contrary person. I don’t like to do what I’m told. Or what to think. 

So when I kept reading in Entertainment Weekly, over and over and over again, that I just HAD to read this story about two kids ridiculously named Katniss and Peeta who are pitted against each other in a death arena in some event known as the “Hunger Games,” I thought: no way. Unh-uh. Not gonna do it

And then, in the spring of 2011, something changed. I’d like to say it was me becoming a better, more mature, less stubborn and prideful person overnight, but no. It was simply this: Borders announced it was going out of business, and, dammit, I had a $20 gift card burning a hole in my pocket.

I strolled into the store by my house and, as is often the case, my mind drew a complete and utter blank. A store full of books, and I couldn’t think of a single frickin’ one I wanted to buy or didn’t already own. I moseyed over to the YA section, hoping for a miracle, and there it was, sitting gloriously on an end cap: a trade paperback copy of The Hunger Games. Perched right next to a hardcover of Catching Fire. And hell if I knew which one was the first book, so I just bought them both. I remember thinking, “This shit better be good.“ 

I took the books with me to my parents’ cabin in northern Michigan, and I devoured them in two days. I was left with the wretched Catching Fire cliffhanger and no way to purchase Mockingjay. So I drove an hour to the nearest restaurant in Podunk, MI that offered free wifi so that I could download Mockingjay

I don’t think I spoke more than five words to my family on that entire vacation. [Great trip or the *greatest* trip, eh?]

I remember laying in bed, finishing the book, and listening to the crickets chirping outside and the lazy whirring of the ceiling fan. Heat lightning lit up the sky outside, and in the distance I could hear coyotes yelping and howling.

And I felt as alive as the night itself.

I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t think. I read the epilogue fifty times and felt as broken and cobbled together as Katniss. I was devastated and ravished and heartsick and happy. And a book did that. Sometimes only books can.

So imagine my disappointment with Gary Ross.

I went opening night to see THG and saw it a handful of times in the theater, and every time I saw it I felt so frustrated by the script and the creative decisions he made as a director. The casting was spot on, and I remember thinking, “Hey, that guy from The Kids All Right really holds his own against Jennifer Lawrence.” But I couldn’t fathom how they took a book that crackles with tension and somehow managed to suck the energy out of it. It was a dutiful, faithful adaptation, sure, but it somehow lacked the spirit of the book.

And then St. Francis came along. Catching Fire redeemed the movie franchise for me. He was able to get the best performances out of his actors. The narrative flowed, the cinematography was beautiful (and oh-so-blue… giffers will know what I’m talking about!). And just like that I became obsessed with the movies, too.

I fangirled on my own for a while- I got my husband and a few friends to read the books and watch the movies, but their ardor for the series fell under… let’s just say… “normal” parameters. But anything I’ve ever loved in my life, I’ve loved with every fiber of my being. And that includes two ridiculously named kids… Katniss and Peeta.

Now for Tumblr and how The Hunger Games has changed my life:

I moved to Seattle this past fall, where I knew (and know) no one aside from my husband.  It was a lifelong dream come true, moving to the PacNW, but when dreams come true, sometimes you’re filled with a vacuum of “what’s next?” You’re left with a void where there was once ambition.

I was buried under a mountain of photo editing and was dealing with a painful and debilitating foot injury. My husband was working long hours, and I was alone in a tiny one-bedroom apartment 3 time zones and 2000 miles away from my nearest friend.

So I fell into the worst pit of depression. (My fellow peeps with depression will understand just how scary and horrible it can be). I felt hopeless and like a ghost of a person. I felt like a wraith, a shadow. Soulless and friendless and purposeless. And I couldn’t talk to my family about it or to my friends on the other side of the country. I couldn’t cry. I felt numb. And I just didn’t see the point anymore of getting out of bed. I was a dead robot. 

So in between editing photos I’d reward myself by web browsing… edit a photo, spend five minutes poking around. Edit another photo, another five minutes browsing. And so on. I don’t know why, but I started looking around for THG stuff. And I stumbled upon Tumblr (which I’d used once to download a gif years ago and promptly dismissed). Every day, I’d creep on my favorite blogs that I’d come to know. Like posthungergamessyndrome and peetasbunmyoven

And maybe sometimes I’d send anonymous asks just to talk to somebody. And then people like Marianne and Emily would write back, and then I wouldn’t feel so lonely and insignificant for a little while. 

This probably sounds sad or pathetic- and, really, apologies for the heart on sleeve- but I don’t see it that way. It inspired me to come off anon and to start posting to the blog I’d created years ago. And I thought: I love THG, so maybe I should focus on that.

It’s made all the difference.

Instead of just editing photos for other people on their wedding day or of their babies or at their bar mitzvah, I thought maybe I could edit pics and videos for me. Of stuff I like, just to do it… mashing up my favorite songs, movies, tv shows, philosophy, politics. Maybe I could push my technical skills, try to emulate some of the stuff I’d seen and admired so much on Tumblr (@seaquell and @tigriss92, I’m looking at you). In short, maybe I could get my creative juices flowing again.

I saw first-hand the community that could exist on Tumblr, and I thought I want to be part of that, part of something bigger than me and bigger than just a book or a movie series. I was so wistful and, I’ll admit it, jealous, to see the friendships that existed here. I just wanted a rapport with someone who loves what I love and is inspired by what inspires me. And myusernamehere, the wonderful and effervescent Lisa, reached out to me to be my friend. She’s a lifesaver. 

Then, by god, I started writing again. I hadn’t written anything creatively since high school. College and grad school killed the creative impulse to write, inculcating me with an unrelenting negativity about the creative process. But thanks to the peetaspenis and Prompts in Panem, I started writing fanfic. I don’t pretend to be in the same league as the folks here, but then it’s not a competition. And people have been so supportive that it encourages me to keep trying to be a better writer. 

I don’t know what the future holds. I worry that with MJ2’s release the fandom will disperse and all this will slip away, but I suppose all good things…

In the meantime, I’m not depressed. I’ve made the best friends, beautiful people who make me laugh, smile, and who inspire me. I’m learning new things about Photoshop on a daily basis, editing whatever I want, whenever I want. I’m writing, people! Not just talking about it. But actually doing it. I’m doing cyanotype prints again. I’m just… alive again. And The Hunger Games did that for me. It was the spark for a revolution in my personal life. I’m not saying all my problems are cured or that life won’t throw more curveballs my way, but The Hunger Games has taught me that life can go on… that it can be good again.

And you gave me that. <3