sure hope this works

anonymous asked:

Adzie!! im planning on buying wacom tablet since i want to get into digital art (just for fun rlly) but im no expert im not even sure if its a good model or what to expect could u give me tips??? (Its okay if u cant aaaaa) im planning on getting the Wacom intous CTL490DW :]

I’ve only ever used Wacom ones so that’s all i can recommend, to be honest! I’ve used one like the one you’re planning on getting and they are really good! Very travel light too! I’m not sure what other tips to provide but I hope whatever you get works out for you!!! Good luck with digital art! It’s a lot of fun once you get the hang of it!


for @allmycharactersare-dead: oikawa, iwaizumi & the flock 1 and 2 trainees from wingbeats!! because dragons and dragon riders are. the coolest. also I promised you a thing!! ヾ(*´∀`*)ノ 


stannissucks :

I see really cool photo manips of house stark all the time where it’s like:

~ the red WOLF . the young WOLF . the white WOLF ~

etc. but you never see them for house baratheon because like what would you even do????

~ the fat STAG . the serious STAG . the gay STAG ~


Quick thing for @springtrap-trash! Happy birthday!

Genji & Zenyatta practicing their makeup skills on Lucio: the guy that’ll do anything to help his best friends >u<)  

Genji does more of a classy look while Zen loves glitter and bright colors lol

requested by: @caitninja

*(note that because of Dunk’s actions, the tourney didn’t end properly… hmm.)

                                                   - Baratheon - 
                                                  (Lyonel & Joffrey)

She dreams of golden lions.  Arya says it should be stags, but he’s not like that fat drunk king, he’s gracious and beautiful and so it’s lions.  The lion of Baratheon sounds better than the stag.  Stags are prey, after all.  How many times has her father hunted venison, and how many times has she dined upon it.  

The wolf dines upon the stag.

That sounds fine and fair, and Sansa clutches her pillow to he and kisses it, pretending it’s Joffrey for just a moment.  He is so beautiful, and she’s to be his queen one day, and she’ll be as good and gracious as Queen Cersei, she knows she will.

She doesn’t know about Ice.  She doesn’t know about her screams.  She doesn’t know that it will end in blood and death and destruction, and that her lion is not her lion at all. All she knows right now is what she dreams.

                                                         - Tyrell - 
                                                               (Leo & Willas)

What did it matter about his leg, she reminds herself when she wakes in the morning, the secret a talisman in her heart.  What matters is he’ll want me.  He’ll want me.  That’s more than Joffrey ever wanted.  

It makes it easier to smile as she walks through the hallways.  It makes it easier to listen to the queen, or to Joffrey.  Only a little while longer, she thinks.  I’m to be wed, and to a good man.  

Someone who’s worthy.  She had not thought of those words, but there they are tickling her mind, calling to her as if from some dark cave.  Her father had promised her someone who was worthy when he’d broken her betrothal to Joffrey.

Margaery said he was worthy, and Margaery was the sister she had wanted, the sister she should have had, and the sister she was going to have when she was wed to Willas.  Surely Margaery wouldn’t lie to her, for sisters don’t lie to other sisters.  

She doesn’t know about the dress, doesn’t suspect.  She does not know that they know, and that Margaery isn’t her sister now, and never shall be.  She does not know that Willas may be gallant, but he’s never to be hers.  All she knows is hope and that’s enough to let her walk the halls of a bloodred keep.

                                                      - Lannister - 
                                                     (Tybolt & Tyrion)

They have made her a Lannister, and slain her mother and brother.  She was the last Stark, and now she is a Lannister.  They have won the war and there is no hope for Winterfell and joy ever again.  

Her lord…husband is kind.  Or rather, he is not unkind.  Sansa has learned that an absense of unkindness doesn’t mean that a Lannister is truly kind.  But he smiles at her, and seeks to make her smile, and perhaps one day she can come to admire him.

Admire, but never love.  She cannot love a Lannister, not after Robb, and father, and mother.  Her heart aches, and she tries not to think of what her parents or brothers would say to her.

Her father had promised her someone who was worthy, and she’d been given a Lannister.  At least he did his best to shield her from Joffrey, but every time she sees the golden lion on crimson she almost remembers blood on white steps before her vision went dark.

She weeps at night.  Weeps for she’d dreamed of songs and love and marriage and babies like what her mother had had, and all she’d gotten was Lannister Crimson.

She does not know about the plot.  She does not know about the poison.  She does not know that she’ll be whisked away in only a few weeks time.  All she knows right now is despair and misery.

                                                       - Hardyng - 
                                                         (Humphrey & Harrold)

She does her best not to dream of Harry.  She has learned what comes of dreaming of betrotheds.  She shall wait until she knows him, and knows that they are wed.  Then she shall let herself dream.

Her father plans, and promises.  He smiles as he drinks his arbor gold, and gives her significant glances over certain words.  His eyes speak louder than his words, Alayne has learned that well.  He does mean it, doesn’t he?  

She wants to have faith in her father, but faith is in poor supply these days.  Instead, she does her best to trust him.  Trust, because she sees his wits, sees the way he spins reality from words, and Alayne marvels at just how he does it and wonders if maybe she might do it too.  One day.  With practice.

She doesn’t kiss her pillow at night and pretend it’s Harry.  She doesn’t mourn brothers and parents Alayne never had.  She doesn’t dream of puppies.  She doesn’t even let herself imagine his face.  He could be as beautiful as Joffrey or as ugly as the Hound and it wouldn’t matter, not truly.  When she closes her eyes and imagins a great castle of strong grey stone, and Harry’s knights at her side as she rides north to throw the Boltons from her father’s seat.

She does not know about the High Septon, doesn’t know about his righteousness, doesn’t know that he’ll require more than just words to undo her marriage.  She doesn’t know about Saffron, and Myranda, or Ser Shadrich.  All she knows is that maybe, just maybe, she’ll be going home.

                                                    - Targaryen - 
                                                            (Valarr & Aegon)

“You’ll wed him,” he, looking harried.

“I’m already wed,” she reminds him.  The High Septon had not undone her marriage to Lord Tyrion.  She’d been glad of that in the end, so as not to have been saddled with Horrible Harrold, even if it meant that Winterfell…

“I should like to go home,” she says quietly.  “My brother sits in my father’s seat.  I am grateful for your protection, but I am a Stark and should be returned to Winterfell.”  She does her best to keep her bitterness from her voice.  Jon Stark in the end.  Robb legitimized him, because Robb didn’t want her to have the castle.  

“You’ll wed Aegon,” Littlefinger says.  “It doesn’t matter what the High Septon says now, or any of them.  The Faith has been shattered, thanks to our good mad queen.  And Aegon will give you all you want and more.”

All I want? He was getting vague.  Sansa saw that now.  Vague for his plans were all falling apart, for he’d not planned for two dragons–only one.  “All you want,” Sansa says quietly.  “I want to go to Winterfell.  You could send me with twenty men and I could be there in a month.  No need for marriage, no need for Aegon.  Only a need for you.”

“Alayne,” he begins, but Sansa shakes her head.

“Can you give me what I want?” she asks him evenly, and his green eyes are sharp as they look at her.

“You will wed Aegon.  The matter is decided.”

She doesn’t know about the knight.  There’s no way she can.

                                      - She might have prayed then,
                         if she had known a prayer all the way through,
                                            but there was no time.

This time for true, is all Sansa can think.  There is word that Aegon’s camp is only a day’s ride away, and on the morrow, Sansa’s to be his bride.  She somehow doubts that he will be like her first husband, and heed her wishes not to be bedded.  Perhaps she’ll want to bed him.  She’d once dreamed of being a queen, and now she’s to have it.  Except that like as not her head will end up on a spike just like her father’s.

As if she’d not dreaded it for years.  As if she’d not expected it.

The snow floats around her as she rides.  No wheelhouse can make it through the snows, but Sansa doesn’t mind the cold.  It reminds her that all this is real, even if she feels numb, and dreamy.  She dismounts in the darkness even as Lord Littlefinger’s men set up camp, and she looks around the clearing they’ve settled on.  It’s sheltered by trees, and it’s on the side of a hill.  Somewhere, she remembers someone saying that hills were safer to set up camp on than valleys.  

She walks around, feeling Lord Littlefinger’s eyes upon her.  He is wroth with her, she knows.  Once that would have frightened her, but she can’t be frightened now.  She’s in a cold dream, but instead of green firelight there’s moonglow and snow.  

“Lady Sansa.”  She looks about, wondering if it’s the wind, or the rustle of empty branches.  But it’s a voice, truly a voice and she spots a hooded figure, taller than anyone she’s seen in years.  The figure raises one finger to his lips, and then removes the hood.

Her face is scarred, and Sansa has never seen her before.  Perhaps because she is a woman, Sansa trusts her more and she goes to stand by the tree at the edge of the clearing, leaning against it and looking in.

“Who are you?” she asks without moving her lips.

“I am Brienne of Tarth, my lady, I served your mother Lady Catelyn.  I vowed to her I would find you and return you to her.”

“You cannot do that now,” Sansa says.  Her voice flutters, and her stomach is twisted in knots.  

“No, I cannot,” Lady Brienne says, and Sansa hears rather than sees the pain the words cause her.  “But I can bring you home to Winterfell.  Your brothers are there.  And your sister soon enough.”

“Arya?” Sansa asks sharply.  Her little sister is dead, and then was wed to Ramsay Bolton, and then wasn’t Arya at all, but Jeyne Poole.  It was that that changed him from Father to Littlefinger.

“Yes my lady.  At the head of a pack of wolves.  She had a little sword called Needle.”  But Sansa had never known of a sword called Needle.  It didn’t sound like something Arya would name a sword.  Unless it was a secret of some sort.  Why would Brienne think she knew the sword unless it mattered somehow?  

“A pack of wolves?” Sansa asks instead.

“Headed by her own direwolf,” Brienne says quickly.  “My lady, I speak the truth.  I would not lie to you, though I know that others will say the same.  I…you know my squire, Podrick Payne.”

“Pod?” Sansa says, startled and too loudly.  Littlefinger’s eyes flicker at her and she feigns a cough.

“Aye, my lady.  He entered my service to help me find you.  He has no designs on reward, just your safety.” 

This could be a lie–the cruelest of lies, but Sansa cannot know.  If Lady Brienne were a knight–a true knight…except true knights don’t exist, and Lady Brienne’s a lady, not a knight.  But Sansa wants to believe it, she does.  She wants to believe her mother sent someone for her, that her brothers and sister await her in Winterfell that she can go home at long last.  She thinks of Littlefinger, thinks of Aegon and the marriage bed she does not want.

“I will keep you safe.” She hears the words and this timethis timeSansa goes.

Retail Gothic
  • A customer pleads to be let in after closing time. They only need one item. They only ever need one Item.
  • A customer is looking for an item. You do not sell the item. You have never sold the item. You do not know what the item is.
  • An item does not scan. “It must be free” the customer jokes. You look at them, their mouth hangs open as they laugh. They have too many teeth. 
  • You ask your colleague how their day is going. They look back at you their eyes hollow and devoid of hope. You nod in understanding. No more is said.
  • A security barrier goes off. You look around but there is nobody there. There is just noise.
  • You say good morning to a customer. You hope it is still morning. You are no longer sure how time works. 
  • Colleagues  disappear as they move on to better things. You do not know where they go but sometimes you see them months later. Their eyes are bright and their smiles real. You know better than to question these things.
  • There is a man. He comes in every Wednesday. You have never seen him buy anything.
  • You see an actor from that happy show years before. They are looking at deodorant. They look sad. 
  • You go to the stockroom to find an item. You look around but there is nothing. The system says you have thirty two. The system always say you have thirty two.
  • You walk through the warehouse. All you can see in every direction is Christmas trees. It is July.
  • They ask to speak to a manager. You look around- there are no managers. you cannot remember the last time you saw a manager. What does a manager look like? 

whuuuut, is it already the end of 2016? what the heckie! this year passed by soooo fast, & i’m still here, trying to catch up to it lmao. anyways! this year has been the weirdest! stupidest! year ever. but it’s ok, i had you guys on my dash to make it so much better. & you did! which is good, you know, because otherwise i’d complain a lot more than i actually do lmfao

i just want to say thank you soooooo much for making this weird, stupid, annoying, depressed year so much better for me & i hope i get to still be in touch… with most of you (i want to change most to all ok)… in the upcoming years!!! i wish you all a happy holidays, happy hanukkah, happy new years, happy you, happy everything!! (but mostly a happy YOU)

listed in alphabetic order!

@1ly | @25th | @adorkablezuko | @aizawashoutta | @akutagawa-r | @allenswalkers | @amplemiscellany | @anakinskyy | @anorable | @aphronite | @atsushhi | @atsushisnakajima | @azuila | @balmera | @barnns | @bokouto | @capdanrogers | @chikumis | @cobalon | @cyph3r | @daburupurei | @dazairable | @dazzai | @demheter | @derierisu | @dongwoonn | @dovah | @etokei | @evngelion | @fenrisr | @fulllmetals | @genoza | @gikwangvevo | @hilrav | @hitsubby | @izucute | @jaegsae | @janeruka | @kanaekis | @kanekin | @katahas | @kirschtein | @klilua | @knock | @kojiiro | @koushhi | @koyukiis | @lancemclains | @lavihs | @lipnitskayah | @makofied | @mamurasm | @masterjinoras | @mattelektras | @melichamaa | @meruis | @metallee | @mihkoriz | @mmakotoz | @moonrail | @mukoros | @narvhina | @nchuyas | @nickiforov | @nikifohov | @nikiphorov | @nozakis | @oikawathoru | @oikiwa | @ootsukis | @phichitq | @pplisetsky | @princessxbilbo | @ptsdnoctis | @raives | @ranppo | @ronanlyynches | @rvkiakuchiki | @seohyyun | @seongmi-na | @shayera | @smokehill | @starkroqers | @stevanyeun | @symmmetra | @tachibana–chan | @tachipaws | @taehhv | @tanakaryuu | @tobioskageyama | @todorokii | @todorokiis | @trickstar | @tsukih | @tsukii | @tsukkih-s | @uzurume | @v-nikiforov-on-ice | @vaelys | @vivvision | @vrrana | @wakamurasaki | @xatsushis | @yujacha | @yushiyuki | @yuuyaas | @zucks

really sorry if i forgot to mention anyone omg

There are so many things I wanna draw but I went with this one because it’s the quickest and I need SLEEP.

So. MP100 Wing AU again. Enjoooooy.


all i have is my honor and a tolerance for pain


Agents of SHIELD Promotional Pictures, S4E07 ‘Deals With Our Devils’