these are really bad i'm sorry

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Tumblr completely killed the quality, click to see them properly.

I have been trying to finish this since Wednesday

I’m not really happy with how it came out, particularly the bottom half, but I spent too much time not to post it. Deciding to draw this particular dress may not have been the best idea.

kak-noriaki  asked:

Oml what color do you use for Avdol's skin, as in the RGB numbers?? 😭 It's so pretty oh my gosh!! 💞💞

waaaah !!!! thank you so much aaaaaaaaah !!!!! it really depends on the drawing i use a lot of filters so most of the time the colors are a little bit altered………..

((putting a readmore so it wont extend you guys’ dashboard LMAO))

Keep reading

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Roadhog talks.
A friend inspired me to do a sequel to this 
Some interesting facts from the timeline which I thought would be nice to show in a comic.
I hope I didn’t make Roadhog too out of character, but some things he does make me believe that he might actually be like this.
I love this meatpile.
Also kinda feel like Zarya and Roadie would get along best.

7

Hello! I finally got over my jet lag (i think)!
I had a great time back in my hometown, Manila! ^o^ ♥

I had lots of fun and also lots of rest and I feel so refreshed (and also kind of sad because I miss my relatives and my dog…and the food) – Now that I think about it – being back here in New York in winter feels so much sadder because of the gloomy surroundings ((compared to the colorful and lively neighborhood back home – it’s been 2 years since I was able to visit Manila aahh)) ///// anyway, here are some photos from our flight stopover in Taiwan Taoyuan Airport!

Thank you so much for your well wishes everyone, I really appreciate it!
I hope to upload lots of new art starting next week (and will resume working on that MM art book♥)

I couldn’t do 707 Route while I was there, I had no mobile internet and the WiFi everywhere was super slow ;;v;; Now that I’m back, I still can’t do the route because the app won’t let me change my time zone (it still doesn’t recognize Daylight Savings Time)!!! //cries because now I won’t be able to play the new update hhHHHNNN

Also – my fave photo of all (it’s me beside a mirror) vvvvvvvvvvvvv

After she graduates from Samwell, Alicia moves to New York. She’s got a modelling contract, she’s going to be in Vogue, she’s going to be on Broadway – she’s going to be all these huge things according to her agent. It’s not that she doesn’t want them, necessarily, it’s that…it’s that she’s twenty-three and she’s from Chatham, Massachusetts and she somehow thought she was going to be married well before she had a career. But, it’s fine. She’s got an apartment in Manhattan and everything is exciting and gorgeous and all the people she meets are dull and gorgeous and after only a month, she’s tired of it.

She’s theoretically dating a Broadway producer at that point. He has a higher opinion of himself and his tastes than anyone she’s ever in her life met, but she doesn’t really want to turn him down because this is how people get parts in things. But when he shows up with some tickets for a new experimental performance of Swan Lake set to the Beatles, she draws the line.

“What if we did something a little more…fun,” she suggests.

“Like what?” the producer asks, clearly bewildered.

“Well I think the Pens are going to be in town playing the Rangers on Saturday,” she says. “Can you get tickets to that?”

He clearly doesn’t know what the Pens or the Rangers are, but he goes away and comes back with tickets. Alicia’s just so damn relieved to be going to a perfectly normal hockey game that she can’t contain her excitement.

The seats the producer got them are good. They’re just behind the boards, liable to get sprayed with ice if anyone makes a serious turn too close by.

“Does – does the guy in jersey 11 have the same name as you?” the producer asks, glowering at the ice while the players skate by. Alicia doesn’t have to look to know who he’s talking about.

“That’s Bad Bob Zimmermann,” she says. She’s having fun explaining hockey to him in a condescending tone, since it was how all of their previous dates had been, just in reverse. “His name’s got two Ns at the end of it.”

She doesn’t mention that part of the reason she’s laughing is because back in Samwell, she and her roommates had gotten silly drunk one night and started evaluating the prospects of each of the hockey players Alicia had taped to her walls, and they’d decided that it was Bad Bob who she ought to marry because then she wouldn’t have to change her last name.

“No, but I would,” she insisted at the time. “I’d have to add an N.”

“And forever make copy editors cry,” her friend had replied.

The producer shakes his head in confusion at this whole sport, when suddenly three hockey players slam into the boards right in front of them. Alicia finds herself face to face with Bob Zimmermann himself and for some reason he’s looking at her, his brow furrowed just slightly in confusion.


“I’m telling you, it was Alicia Zimmerman,” Bob says, smacking away the towel someone’s trying to snap him with.

“I don’t know, man, that’s the most starry eyed I’ve ever seen you over a girl,” the goalie says.

“Of course I was starry eyed, she’s the new face of Valentino,” Bob says. This is going to be a problem. That’s not something he’s supposed to know off the top of his head. He has to cover. His team can’t know he’s been more or less fanboying over this girl for the better part of three months. “And she was in that play we saw the last time we were in New York.”

The goalie considers. “Who was she?”

“She was the girl,” Bob says. “You know, the really good one who could act.”

“Blonde?” the goalie asks. Bob nods. “Those blue eyes you could see even across the theatre?”

“Yeah,” Bob agrees.

“Why are you still in here then?” the goalie demands. “She’s probably still out there. Go ask her on a date.”

Bob shakes his head, but the goalie, Johnson, grabs him by the arm.

“Bob,” he says. “This is crucial. Go ask Alicia Zimmerman out on a date.”

Merde, okay,” Bob says, recoiling from Johnson’s intensity. It’s not actually that bad an idea, he thinks, as he walks back towards the stands. Alicia hadn’t looked overly enthusiastic about the man she was sitting next to, so maybe he’s got a chance.

He happens to catch her and the guy in the suit just before they leave the rink.

“Sorry, you’re Alicia Zimmerman right?” Bob asks.

Her smile could power all of New York it’s so bright.

“You’re Bad Bob,” she says, completely ignoring the man next to her. He looks miffed, Bob thinks, but he’s also about half the size Bob is so he’s not worried. “I mean, you’re Bob Zimmermann. With two Ns.”

Bob laughs and Alicia keeps smiling, and the Broadway producer disappears in a snit.


Alicia never does get around to changing her last name.