taking a short break from these

“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. It’s just a scratch. I’ll live.”

A kiss to make it better. ;) They sparred for a couple of hours and Keith got distracted causing Shiro to land a hit. Shiro apologized profusely. Keith thought he was being dramatic. So, I’m back drawing these two idiots. :D | Redbubble

anonymous asked:

*shyly whispers* do u think u could do another Greek Mythology story~

“Your tapestries are so fine,” the merchant says in wonder, “that you must be blessed by the goddess Athena.”

Arachne tosses her head, braided hair falling over her shoulder like an obsidian waterfall, “What’s Athena got to do with it? My hands wove these, not hers.”

The merchant blanches and looks to the sky, as if expecting Zeus himself to smite them for blasphemy. Personally, she thinks the king of the gods has better thing to do with his time. “Ah,” he says weakly, “I suppose.”

He pays her for her wares and she leaves, almost immediately bumping into a hunched old woman with grey eyes. “Do you not owe Athena thanks for your talent?” she croaks, gnarled hands curled over a cane.

Arachne is not stupid, but she is foolish. They will tell tales of it. She looks into those grey eyes and declares, “Athena should thank me, since my talents earn her so much praise.”

She pushes past her and keeps walking, ignoring the goddess in humans skin as she disappears into the crowd.

They will tell tales of her hubris. They will all be true.

~

The next day she bumps into the same old woman at the market. Everything goes downhill from there.

“Know your place, mortal,” Athena says, grey eyes narrowed. There is a crowd around them, and Arachne could save herself, could walk away unscathed, and all she has to do is say her weaving is inferior to that of a goddess.

She will not lie.

“I do,” she says coolly, “and in this matter, it is above you.”

She is not honest as a virtue, but as a vice.

Athena challengers her to a weaving contest. She accepts.

~

Gods are not so hard to find, if you know where to look.

“It’s a volcano,” the baker repeats, looking down at her coins, as if he feels guilty for taking money from someone who’s clearly not all there.

She grabs her bag of sweet breads and adds it to her pack before swinging it over her shoulders, “Yes, I know. Half a day’s walk, you said?”

“A volcano,” he insists, as if she did not hear him perfectly well the first dozen times.

“Thank you for your help,” she says. He’s shaking his head at her, but she knows what she’s doing.

She walks. She grows hungry, but does not touch the bread she paid for, and walks some more. The sun’s begun to set by the time she makes it to the base of the volcano. It’s tall, impossibly large, and for a moment the promise of defeat threatens to overwhelm her.

But Arachne does not believe in defeat, in loss. They will tell tales of her hubris. Those tales will be true.

She ties a scarf around her braids then hikes her skirt up and ties the material so it falls only to her thighs. She fits work roughened hands into the divots of cooled magma and begins her slow ascent.

~

The muscles in her legs and arms shake, and her hunger pains are almost as distracting. Her once white dress is dirt smeared and torn and sweat makes her itch as it covers her body and drips down her back.

“What are you doing?”

Arachne turns her head and bites back a scream, looking into one giant eye. The cyclops holds easily to the volcano’s edges, even though her hands are torn and bleeding. She swallows and says, “I heard you like honeyed bread. Is it true?”

The creature tilts his head to the side, baring his long fanged teeth at her. She thinks he might be smiling. “You’ve been climbing for hours. What do you want?”

“Is it true?” she repeats, refusing to flinch.

“Yes,” he says, looking at her the same way the baker had, “it’s true.”

“There’s some sweet bread in my pack, baked this morning,” she says, “it should still be soft.”

His hands are big enough and strong enough that it could probably squeeze her head like a grape. Instead he gently undoes her pack and reaches inside. The honey buns look comically small in his large hands, and he swallows half of them in one bite. He licks his fingers clean when he’s done, and his smile is just as terrifying the second time around. “I am Brontes. Why are you climbing my master’s volcano?”

“I’m the weaver Arachne,” she takes a deep breath, “I need your master’s help.”

~

They tell tales of Hephaestus’s ugliness.

They are not true.

He’s got a broad, angular face and short brown hair. His eyes are like amber set into his face, and his arms are huge, and he’s rippling muscle from the waist up. He has legs only to his knees. From there down his legs are bronze gears and golden wire, replacements for the legs destroyed when Hera threw him from Mount Olympus.

“Had your look, girl?” he asks, voice rough like he’s always a moment away from breaking into a coughing fit.

“Yes,” she says, and doesn’t turn away, keeps looking.

His lips quirk up at the corners, so it was the right move. The heat is even more oppressive inside the volcano, and all around him cyclopses work, forging oddly shaped metal that she can’t hope to understand. “You’ve gone to an awful lot of trouble to find me, girl. What do you want?”

She slides her pack off her shoulders and holds it out to the god, “I have a gift for your wife. I have woven her a cloak.”

He raises an eyebrow and doesn’t reach for the bag, “You believe something made with mortal hands could be worthy of the goddess of beauty?”

They will tell tales of her hubris.

“Yes.”

They will all be true.

With a gust of wind the oppressive heat of the volcano is swept away, leaving her chilled. In its place stands a woman – more than a woman. Aphrodite has skin like the copper of her husband’s machines and hair dark and thick and long. Her eyes are deepest, richest brown, piercing in their intelligence. People don’t tell tales of Aphrodite’s cleverness. That is because people are stupid.

“Let’s see it then,” she says, reaching inside the pack and pulling the cloak from its depths.

It unrolls beautifully. It’s made from the finest silks, and it shimmers in the light from the forges. The hem of the cloak is sea foam, speaking of Aphrodite’s beginning, and up along the cloak is intricate patterns it tells of her life, of her marriage and her worshippers and escapades, all with the detail of the most experienced artist and the reverence of her most devoted followers.

Her lips part in surprise and she slides it on, twirling like a child. “Gorgeous,” Hephaestus says, though Arachne knows he does not speak of the cloak. She doesn’t take offense.

The goddess smiles and Arachne’s heart pounds in her chest. She does her best to ignore it – Aphrodite is the goddess of love, after all. It is only expected. “Very well,” the goddess says, “you have my attention.”

Arachne swallows. Aphrodite’s attention is a heavy thing. “I have offended Athena,” she says, “She has challenged me to a weaving contest.”

Their faces somber. Hephaestus rubs the edge of a sleeve between his fingers and says, “Athena will lose such a contest, if judged fairly. She does not take loss well.”

“I know,” she says, “you are friendly with Hades, are you not?”

There are no tales of their friendship. But she’s staking her life on its existence, because why wouldn’t it exist – both of them even tempered, both shunned by Olympus, both happily married.

Gods hate being made to feel lesser. It is why they say Persephone was kidnapped, why they say Aphrodite cheats with Ares. It is why Athena will crush her when Arachne wins the weaving contest.

“Clever girl,” Hephaestus says, smiling.

Aphrodite stares at her reflection in a convenient piece of polished silver. Arachne assumes Hephaestus left if lying there for that express purpose. “Very well!” the goddess says, not looking at her, “when Athena sends you to the underworld, we will entrench upon our uncle for your release.” She turns on her heel and points a finger at her. Arachne blushes for no reason she can think of. “In return, you will weave me a gown, one equal to my own beauty.”

A gown as exquisite as the goddess of beauty. An impossible task.

They will tell tales of her hubris.

“I accept.”

They will all be true.

~

The contest goes as expected. Athena’s tapestry is lovely, but Arachne’s is lovelier.

The goddess’s face goes red in rage, and her grey eyes narrow. Arachne stands tall, ready to accept the death blow coming for her.

The blow comes.

Death does not.

~

She is an insect. Even if she can make it back to Hephaestus’s volcano, even if they can help her, they will not know it is her. She has no hope left, no course of action, she should just give up. But –

She doesn’t believe in defeat, in loss.

It was a terribly long journey on foot, that first time. It is even longer this time, although now she has eight legs instead of two. She makes it to the volcano, and creeps in between crevices, until she finds out a hollowed room, one with a sliver of sunlight and plenty of bugs to keep her fed.

Athena’s cruel joke of allowing her to weave will be her downfall. Her silk comes out a golden yellow color – it will look exquisite against Aphrodite’s copper skin.

~

It takes seven years for her to complete it. She hasn’t left this room in the volcano in all that time, and as soon as it’s done she scurries out back toward the village. She’s a large insect, but not that large.

She arrives just as the sun begins to rise, and leaves before the first rays have even touched the earth, her prize tied to her back with her own silk.

Arachne doesn’t return to her room. Instead she goes to the more popular parts of the volcano, hurries and runs around terrifying stomping feet until she finds who she’s looking for and scurries up his leg and onto his shoulder.

“Huh,” Brontes looks onto his shoulder and blinks. “What on earth are you?”

She cautiously skitters down his arm, waiting. He bends closer and lightly touches her back. “Is – is that a piece of a honey bun?”

She looks up at him, waiting. It’s her only chance, if he doesn’t remember, if he doesn’t understand –

His face slowly fills with a cautious kind of wonder. “Arachne?”  She jumps in place, being unable to nod, and Brontes cautiously cradles her in his massive hands, “We must find the Master immediately!”

She jumps down, landing in front of him and running forward. “Wait!” he calls, and she makes sure he’s running after her before skittering back to her corner of the cave. It’s almost too small for him to enter but he squeezes inside and breathes, “Oh.” He stares for several moments, and Arachne climbs her web and waits. Brontes shakes himself out of his reverie and uses his powerful wings to bellow, “MISTRESS APHRODITE!”

There’s that same breeze and she’s in the crevice with them, “What was so important, Brontes, that you had to yell?”

Arachne sees the exact moment that the goddess sees the gown, golden yellow and glimmering, made entirely of spider silk. “Beautiful,” she says, reaching out a hand to brush down the bodice. Her head then snaps up, “Brontes, where’s Arachne?”

She warms at that, that Aphrodite knew it was her weaving even though she hasn’t been seen in seven years.

They’ve told tales of her hubris.

They are all true.

Brontes points at the web, and Aphrodite steps over and holds out her hands. Arachne crawls onto the goddess’s palms. “Athena is more powerful than I am, I cannot undo her work,” she says, “but I know someone who can.”

Then they are in front of a river. A handsome young man stands there waiting with a boat. “Goddess Aphrodite,” he says, “we weren’t expecting you.”

“Thanatos,” she returns, “I need to see Persephone.”

The man’s face stays cool, and for a moment Arachne fears they will be refused and she will be stuck in this form forever. Then he smiles and says, “My lady is of course available for her favored niece.” He holds out a hand to help her onto the boat, “Please come with me.”

~

Arachne weaves a dress for Hades’s wife as a thank you, and returns to her volcano.

“I can take you somewhere else,” Aphrodite says, “you don’t have to hide here.”

Arachne pauses at her loom. She has lived in this volcano for seven years. It’s her home. “Would you like me to leave?” she asks instead.

Aphrodite scoffs, “Of course not! How could I dress myself without you here?” She’s wearing the spider silk dress Arachne spun for her, and she’s working on another for the goddess now. Aphrodite runs a gentle finger down Arachne’s cheek and for a moment she forgets to breathe. “You are the finest weaver to ever exist.”

She looks up at the goddess, “Then as the god of crafts and goddess of beautiful things, where else would I belong besides with you and Hephaestus?”

To declare your company equal to that of gods is the height of arrogance and blasphemy.

They tell tales of her hubris.

“An excellent point,” Aphrodite murmurs, and tucks a stray braid behind Arachne’s ear.

They are all true.

gods and monsters series part iii

3

[And let’s take a lot of photos, together, me and you]

*blushing hard* taking a short break from serious artwork for zine project.

Tried to do quicker coloring & lining style so I do all the coloring in one base layer :v

I can’t stop drawing him. And now comic strips– *blame it all to my hands*

V deserves love. I’ll give a lot of it for him :)))


IG: @ elleellenic

Things to Do When You Can’t Seem to Write

Are the words just not coming? Try getting away from the screen for a few minutes.

Do Something Productive

  • Take care of the dishes – load or unload your dishwasher, or wash a sinkfull by hand. If you have to leave any to soak, try writing for a few minutes while they do.
  • Put away that basket of laundry you’ve been ignoring.
  • Clean your bathroom sink.
  • Put away any shoes, jackets, or other outerwear you left lying around.

Do Something Fun

  • Write/draw/paint in your journal, if you have one. Do a page, then try writing again.
  • Read a chapter of your current book.
  • Set a timer for five or ten minutes and play a simple game that will let your mind disengage–my go-to is Spider Solitaire.
  • Call/Skype/text a friend and have a chat for a few minutes.

Make Your Writing Space More Pleasant

  • Straighten up your desk. Throw out any scraps of paper that have served their purpose, but check to make sure you’re not tossing out story notes! Dust the surface off, and put away anything that belongs somewhere else.
  • Light a candle.
  • Get a glass of water, or make yourself tea or coffee.

Take Care of Yourself

  • Grab a small snack if you’re hungry.
  • Are your hands dry? Mine get terrible in winter. Moisturize!
  • Lips, too –grab that lip balm.
  • Feeling sluggish? Take a short walk or do some jumping jacks to get your energy level up.
  • Feeling grungy? Take a shower. “Inspirational” showers are my favorite, I get so many ideas in there.

If one of these doesn’t break you from your funk, try one from another category to switch things up. And if you still don’t find your writing mojo, maybe you need a longer break, or to pack it in for the day. Just remember, working hard is great, but forcing yourself to write can burn you out, so keep yourself in balance!

things Ransom and Holster have protected Bitty from since freshman year

-centipedes

-shattering his phone while drunk

-his first roommates who didn’t like him that much

-Scientology

-the actual chupacabras

-choking on his first bubble tea tapioca (Ransom performed the Heimlich, Holster threw the cup off a bridge)

-Jehova’s Witnesses

-getting nailed by bananas on the track in Mario Kart (they rammed him and sacrificed their own speed to protect him from peels)

-Boston University’s defensive line

-UMass Lowell’s creepy bird mascot

-Being stuck in wet cement on a sidewalk outside the science building (”You grab his left arm, I’ll take the right.” “Why do you always take the right, bro?!”)

-More Jehova’s Witnesses

-sleepwalking

-sleep-baking

-breaking his hand on the TV set when the Beyonce halftime show glitched

-trying to fit into shorts he’d bought in the wrong size (”I never return things, it’s mean!” “Bits, where’s that receipt.”) 

-his father’s football team back in Madison

-a craiglist scammer posing as someone who just had a magically professional industry grade oven they needed to get rid of.

The signs hugging

Aries: Pounds your back to make sure you know how intense their love is

Taurus: Perfectly aligns hearts and holds you tight. A powerful warmth begins to spread through your body. Your eyes well up. A single tear threatens to fall. Then the hug breaks, and the moment is over.

Gemini: Asks first: “Do you need a hug?” Wraps arms around you, holds tight for a sec, then slaps your back in a brolike fashion and awkwardly breaks apart to avoid seeming too touchy-feely

Cancer: Gives and takes hugs in equal measure. Soft, gentle, and warm. Why hugs were invented

Leo: Casual hugs all the time, no biggie

Virgo: Getting a hug from them is like getting a hug from God; you can’t believe you made it to this moment, you must have done something right

Libra: hugs who they want to hug plus EVERYONE ELSE just to be fair so it doesn’t look like they’re showing favoritism or anything

Scorpio: *checks pockets*

Sagittarius: Short hugs, touch-and-go, like they’re about to catch a flight out of the country. Are they vacationing, or on the run? Will you ever see them again? No one knows

Capricorn: You have just sealed a pact of friendship forever, expect them a call from them at 8 pm on a Wednesday night 20 years from now to catch up like you just saw each other yesterday

Aquarius: “I’m not a hugger”

Pisces: Probably initiated the hug

One day when the pain subsides and my heart is mended, I will thank the universe for allowing our paths to cross. I will be able to be grateful for the time we spent together, no matter how short it was. But for right now, I’m cursing it for taking you away from me before I was ready. I’m cursing it for breaking my heart again.
—  But I know it’s for the best and who knows, maybe this isn’t the end… just a pause in our story -Jess Amelia

He takes her hand in his, carefully spreading her fingertips as she tries to pull away. But he won’t let her. Not this time. Not ever again.

“What are you doing?” She demands.

“Feel here,” he places her hand on his heart. “Do you feel it?”

“Feel what?” Her eyebrows furrow. “Your heart?”

“Mhm, it’s broken.”

—  And I Won’t Let You Break It Again
Flirt (One)

intro one two three four
genre:
fuckboy!jungkook, college!au, smut?, angst?
words: 4.1k
member: jungkook  (ft. taehyung)

despising jeon jungkook as he hooks up and steals your best friend away from you.

(credits to gif owner for the gif that kills all)

Originally posted by bangtanofarmys

“Where are you going?” 

“To see lover boy.”

Keep reading

Sometimes advice to be more productive asks a lot of you, perhaps too much. It’s okay if you’re not ready to throw away your TV. It’s okay if you don’t want to get up at 4AM to work out. Through extensive reading of self-help books and trying these myself, I found these little tips yield big results.

1. Get Out of Bed Earlier. Most people naturally have more energy in the morning. But not all of us are morning people. It helps to:

  • Let in natural light. Open the blinds to wake yourself up.
  • Drink a glass of water. After sleeping, you are usually dehydrated, and often dehydration is confused with tiredness.

2. Get Ready to Face the Day. It usually helps to be dressed when facing the day, even if you have nowhere to be.

  • Get dressed. Nothing fancy, just something comfortable, something you might wear to school.
  • Wash your face + brush your teeth.
  • Eat a substantial breakfast.

3. Start With the Hardest Thing. If you haven’t already made your to do list for the day, make one, and then begin with the hardest task on the list. Since the morning is when you have the most drive and energy, putting it off might mean that you may not have the energy to accomplish it later.

4. Unplug Yourself. Untether yourself from your phone while you work. Attempting to multitask just divides your attention and makes you less efficient. Get an app that keeps you away from your phone. I find Forest works well for me. If you’re really struggling with the internet, put your computer away and go analog: do your work long hand.

5. Take Breaks and Stay Hydrated. As I mentioned before, sometimes when we feel tired, we’re really just thirsty. Also, some people find they work best in 90 minute sprints, while others work best with shorter periods of focus broken up with short breaks (See: Pomodoros).

I hope this helps. Good luck out there!

Last but not least, the sunflower knight! Thank you to everyone that’s liked the sunflower RPG series! The feedback and positive comments are immensely appreciated.

Might take a short break from these guys, but we’ll start again with a different kind of plant/flower soon!!💛🌻⚔️

watching Skam in real time

so I’ve come to notice that this will be a lot of people’s first time watching Skam through the full real-time experience so I wanted to break it down and try to explain how it will go down, cause it took me a while to understand last season:

for those of you who don’t know, episodes of Skam come out in short clips throughout the week, not just as one full episode on Friday (although that is a possibility if you don’t want the full experience). The clips are released exactly when they are expected to take place. Season 4 episode 1 will begin on Monday at 13:28, which means it’s a clip of Sana in the middle of the school day.

An episode’s week starts from Saturday and ends on Friday. This means that the first clip of an episode could be released on Saturday, and the final clip that ends that episode comes out on Friday. There is always a clip on Friday, and it’s usually the longest and the most dramatic because it ends the episode. But as for the rest of the clips, we have no idea when they will be released. The first clip is usually around Saturday or Sunday, but sometimes we may have to wait until Monday if there’s nothing important to mention for the weekend. For example, we got a lot of Isak and Noora’s clips that started on the weekend so that we could get more Kollektivet action, but a lot of Eva’s were during weekdays because she would be at school or hanging out with the girls. The first episode of season 4 will begin on Monday, and will end on Friday. 

The length of the clips kind of depend on how long the episode will be. Usually we find out beforehand how long the episode that week will be, but it’s not always accurate. (I’m thinking back to when it said the final episode would be like 50 mins long or something….wow rip we really thought) The clips that get released in the beginning and the middle of the week are usually short, maybe about 3-4 minutes long. Friday clips are much longer and can range from like 7-15 minutes. 

(this got long so I’m putting in a Read More)

Keep reading

The Labyrinth Finale

Originally posted by baebsaes

Genre: Gang AU/ High School AU 

Pairing: Reader/Jimin ft. all the members

Length: 4.7k

Summary: Looking back on your past, your life has never been anything out of the ordinary. Although your parents had left you on one mysterious night, leaving you little to no explanations, you live out the rest of your years residing in a new town under the custody of your aunt. That is, until you return to your hometown to investigate the whereabouts of your parents during your senior year in high school. It was that fateful decision that led you to find a boy collapsed on your front porch one night, wounds gaping and life fading when your entire life is spun out of control. Somehow being dragged into a life of crimes in the underground business of his, you discover the twisted secrets hidden behind the world you thought you had known all along. 

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 Finale


A/N: And here we are! 1 year and 7 months later, we have finally arrived at the final chapter of The Labyrinth. There have been countless times when I just wanted to discontinue this series and quit writing overall because of the lack of an audience, and yet I persevered because this was a story I wanted to tell and it is a work of mine I hold dear to me. But alas, more and more people started to read this massive series, and before I knew it, the reason I continued to write this series was not only for me, but also for you, my readers. So thank you so much, because YOU guys are one of the reasons why I’ve been able to learn the things that I did from writing The Labyrinth. It saddens me that this is where it all ends, but I’d like to take this time to thank you all, those from the beginning, middle, and even future, for the endless support and I love you all so very much. Without further ado, here is the final chapter of The Labyrinth! // 01/29/16 ~ 08/01/17


Keep reading

A Lesson in Love (A Different Perspective)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 4,431

A/N: The tag list for this story is CLOSED. 

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - You are the forever best for editing for me.

Originally posted by skylerlockerbie

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to a track meet before.”

“I’ve never had a reason to come to one,” you say, defending yourself against Wanda’s accusatory tone and disapproving gaze.

“That’s no excuse,” she responds with a click of her tongue. “Now hurry up, we need to secure a good spot.”

You follow her blindly, not knowing what qualifies as a ‘good spot’. Unlike Wanda who has spent years attending track meets with her brother, you’ve never been to one. Like you told her, you never had a reason to attend one. Not until today.

Not until T'Challa.

Keep reading