this cast could not be any more perfect

totheendofthe-world  asked:

hey, could you tell me the name of the cast that you used to do the insagram aesthetic of acomaf ? Cause they all are so perfect, and i want to obsess over them some more lol.

Hey! So from my Court of Dreams Instagram edit, my cast choice are:

Rhys as Sean O’Pry

Originally posted by huntingtonwhiteleys

Feyre as Barbara Palvin

Originally posted by barbi-palvin

Amren as any babe who has short black hair, and light eyes (I didn’t have anyone specific for my Instagram edits!)

Originally posted by pharzalee

Cassian as Renan Pacheco

Mor as Margot Robbie

Azriel as Corentin Huard

Originally posted by canimcokaciyor

How to Make Interesting Characters without Giving them a Tragic Backstory

Okay, first things first, giving someone a tragic backstory does not make them interesting. It just makes them a prime candidate for extensive therapy. What actually makes them interesting is the story that the tragedy creates.

In DC cannon, the death of Bruce Wayne’s parent leads to him becoming Batman, but it didn’t have to. In another world, his parent’s death might be nothing more than the plot of a crime drama in which Bruce is the heart-tugging orphan who stars in that episode and then disappears into the ether.

Along the same lines, Bruce’s parents didn’t have to die in order for him to become Batman. He could have just as easily seen one too many unsolved killings that had nothing to do with him and been inspired to use his fortune to go help his beloved city. Perhaps it’s not as heart wrenching a story as the original, but that doesn’t mean that it would be a bad one.

To show what I mean, let’s look at another famous super-hero orphan (why are there so many of those?) whose story has nothing to do with the death of his parents: Steve Rogers (a.k.a. Captain America). By the time Steve shows up in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, he’s lost both of his parents. His father died in the First World War and his mother died from tuberculosis. This has absolutely nothing to do with his story and it’s never presented as something that makes Steve more interesting than your average person. What makes Steve interesting is that he is a legitimately good person with one of the strongest moral compasses you will ever see.

That’s not something that we associate with War Heroes. War is about compromise. It’s a gray zone in which right and wrong become twisted beyond recognition and we have to do things that go against everything we believe for the greater good of our fellow man.

Steve Rogers hears that and rolls his eyes while marching into a Nazi death camp single handed.

That’s an interesting character and, hey, nothing tragic happens to him until after the story’s already begun.

So how do you make characters like Steve? People who audiences like for who they are instead of what happened to them which, by the way, applies to Bruce Wayne, too. He may have been shaped by what happened to his parents, but that’s not why people love him. Fans love him because he’s a human in a world of superheroes who still manages to go toe-to-toe with them. The number of fans who like him because he’s an orphan with a dark past is pretty small. Maybe even nonexistent.

Alright, back to the topic at hand: how to make people interesting. While I could talk about this at length, let’s keep it simple and focus on the fact that most interesting characters fall into one of two categories.

  1. A Force to be Reckoned With – these are characters who need no supporting cast or foil character. You can put them in a locked room with nothing but a phone book and your audience will still love them. These characters are also rare, so don’t go obsessing over whether or not you’ve got one. Instead, focus on making sure that each of your characters is unique and well-developed enough that they don’t feel interchangeable with their co-stars. How do you do that? By making sure that you have a firm grasp on who they are and what makes them stand out. Don’t say that Danny loves apples. Lots of people love apples. Loving apples does not make him interesting. Instead, say Danny will eat literally anything apple flavored and we’re still not sure why. All we know is that he doesn’t get birthday cakes, he gets apple pies. Is that enough to make Danny “A Force to be Reckoned With”? No, but it does make him stand out from the rest of the cast and, as I tell you more about him, he’ll stand out more and more until we reach the point where there will be lines that only Danny could say.
  2. Team Dynamics – a lot of characters who we love wouldn’t even make the top-ten list if it weren’t for their costars. In the Harry Potter books, Hermione Granger works as a perfect foil to Ron and Harry. They’re slackers who crave adventure while she’s a straight-A student who wants nothing more than to learn everything she can. If Hermione were to star in her own book series without any friends, then it would just be seven books whose titles would fall along the lines of “Hermione Granger and 11 Outstanding O.W.L.S.” or “Hermione Granger and the Comprehensive Guide to Hogwarts’s Library”. Along the same lines, without Hermione, the Harry Potter books would, instead, be the Harry Potter book whose title would be “Harry Potter and the Year a Plant Killed Me”. To make characters like Hermione, think about your staring cast and consider how they work together. Who would they be alone and how does being on the team shape them? How do these friendships change them over the course of your story? Remember, even Fred and George Wesley needed someone to work with.
In the Shadows

A/N: A fourth (and probably last) part to Quite a Show, Someone’s Coming and Pull Over, where Spencer and the Reader take their escapades outside a restaurant they frequent. @coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @hogwarts-konoha @sweetg


“Are you absolutely sure about this one?” You giggled after asking Spencer for the 50th time about your next exhibitionist escapade. There had been nothing wrong with the last few times. It had been amazing, which is why you seemed to be pushing the boundaries more and more, but Spencer could possibly face repercussions from work if you were to get caught, and this next stop of the outside-sex train was the most likely of the four to get you caught with your pants down - literally. 

Spencer nodded his head. “Definitely,” he smiled as he puckered his lips and pressed them to your cheek. “I mean if we were going to TGI Friday’s or something like that, I would be a little more worried, but the Thai place on fifth is so small and isolated that I think we’ll be fine.” 

After grabbing a quick drink of water, he gave you his arm. “Ready to go, beautiful?”

“You say beautiful like it’s my name,” you said softly, a delicate blush coating your cheeks.

Spencer leaned over and pushed your hair out of your face as he kissed you on the forehead. “I just call it how I see it.”


Dinner was absolutely delicious. But honestly, at the Thai place, you’d never ordered anything that wasn’t amazing. There was barely anyone else there, which was great for you - less people to catch you in the act, and as you ate the anticipation built up to the point where neither of you were going to need much foreplay. Also a plus in the not getting caught department. 

Considering you’d both been very hungry, which wasn’t a surprise due to all the sex you’d been having these past few weeks, you went to dinner slightly early, so the regular dinner crowd was just coming in. “That might actually be good for us,” you said, noticing the slightly worried look on your husband’s face. 


“Sure. They’ll all be super hungry and waiting for their food, so they won’t be paying attention to the slight thudding of my ass against the wall out back.” You’d said it a little louder than intended, but no one heard. Spencer’s mouth dropped open at your words. Since you’d started this whole exhibitionist thing, you’d become much more open with your wording and both of you were enjoying it. 

Once the bill was paid, you went outside and walked around the back of the restaurant. There was a mom and pop antique shop on one side, and there tended to be more traffic there in the mornings, and on the other side stood a small hardware store, also rarely frequented at dinner time, which meant that both of the store owners would probably be getting ready to go home. Although this restaurant, and the idea of having sex outside had been his to begin with, he looked around tentatively one last time to make sure there was no one in sight.

Eventually he was satisfied with the lack of people and gently backed you into the wall and hiked up your skirt, moving the lace away from your center just enough. He took you by surprise by dropping to his knees and dipping his head under your skirt to taste your arousal. At first, his lips were the only thing to touch you, but he couldn’t tease you too much because he couldn’t handle it himself. Groaning, he licked up your center and stood back up.

The likelihood of getting caught here was so much higher than a little alcove on the beach or in the relative safety of a dressing room in a mall, but it was exactly that thought that coaxed you forward, your hands roaming down to his pants to unzip his fly. Just in case you needed to make a quick getaway, you only pushed Spencer’s pants down enough to get the job done. His length was hard and ready for you, and you moaned at the feel of him in your hand. “Please,” you said softly. He nuzzled his nose against your neck and up behind your ear, before coming to meet you eye to eye as he placed himself inside your wet heat. “Oh, this is a good angle.” You laughed. “Why don’t we have wall sex more often?”

“Because it hurts my weak ass arms,” he chuckled as your walls clenched around him. “But maybe that’s an excuse to keep doing this. It’s a workout for my arms.”

You bit down on his bottom lip, his teeth and tongue clashing against yours while you laughed into his mouth. “Exactly. I’m just helping you with your workout and you get a tight and wet pussy in the process. Really no downsides.”

Spencer’s tongue peeked out slightly to wash your upper lip before he devoured you bit by bit. With each thrust, your legs tightened around his waist, and your heels into his ass. “I don’t have an ass,” he laughed. “Why do you like my ass so much?”

“You have the perfect ass,” you replied. “And it’s all mine.” You gasped as he thrust upward again, and in turn you gripped more of his ass in your hands. The entire experience was hurried and frenzied, probably because you were both fully aware that you could be caught at any second. The sun was on its way down, which was serving as better cover for you, the shadows casting over your sweat-slickened bodies pushed up against the concrete walls. “Oh my god, fuck Spence. Right there.” You practically went still at the sensation; he was situated in the perfect position to hit your g-spot repeatedly. “Please, don’t stop.”

Spencer cradled your head to protect it from the wall as he thrust into you over and over again. The feeling had you frozen in place, arching backward as you held your breath and repeated Spencer’s name in perpetuity - like a prayer. One that he was more than willing to answer. As you came, you cried out and arched back further into the wall. Your body was spread out in front of him, a complete mess, but undeniably beautiful, and the image was enough to push him over the edge as well. 

As you started to move again, pulling your underwear back in place and flattening out your skirt, you kissed Spencer’s neck, licking at the saltiness that accumulated there. He ran his teeth up the side of your neck and underneath your chin, leaving little love bites in his wake. When he did the same with your nose, it made you laugh - a bellowing laugh that definitely would’ve drawn attention. Thankfully, if someone saw you, the position wouldn’t be as compromising anymore. “Is it bad that I almost wanted someone to catch us?” he asked.

“Yes!” you exclaimed as you slapped his arm. You were both finally decent enough to make your way back to your car. “You could get in trouble at work!”

Spencer shrugged. “I feel like Rossi has probably been caught doing worse. There is a whole other side to him that he alludes to and frankly, I don’t want to hear about,” he laughed. 

“Well, thankfully no one did catch us, so we don’t have to test that possibility.” As you got in the car, Spencer’s phone buzzed in his pocket. 

“Oh no…”

“What is it?”

Your husband sucked in his lip and smirked to himself, handing you the phone. On the screen was Emily’s name. She decided to grab dinner with Garcia.

At the Thai place.

She’d heard you. 

Both of them had.

“Who knew Spencer was such a bad boy?” ;)

You threw the phone back toward Spencer and glanced between him and the restaurant. “You’re gonna hear about that from the team, aren’t you?”

“Without a doubt.” After putting the car in drive, he pulled away from the curb and smiled. “…And I don’t think I care.”

anonymous asked:

River Song for the character thing?

  • First impression

See, Time of Angels was like, the second episode of DW I properly watched bc I was being shown the Weeping Angels, so with my bad memory I’m assuming it was confusion, but “she seems cool”. 

  • Impression now

I think she’s genuinely my favourite character in the DW universe other than the Doctor. She’s my morally questionable but good at heart wife and I adore her more than words could ever say. 

I think a lot of people don’t appreciate just how much of a standout character she is when you look at female characters in general. 

For a start, she’s an outlier in the ageist/sexist tradition of casting any woman over 40 as a bitch/villain or a mother (River could have been played by a 25 year old with zero difference to the story, but it wouldn’t have been the same, we all know that, they cast Alex and she’s perfect). She’s mature and badass and owns her sexuality. 

And then you have the fact that you just… can’t put her in a box. 

She’s allowed to take charge and flirt and lie and cry and make mistakes and grow, and she’s cruel and kind and cold and warm and playful and lethal and determined loves fiercely and would murder certain kinds of people without a second thought, and she’s able to be all of those things at once and have it still make sense. 

She’s stripped of her agency from birth and spends her life taking it back and creating herself, living on her terms and being no less than the woman she wants to be. 

Also, she’s a great example of a bi/pan character being in a committed relationship and being no less committed for being bi/pan. (Like, alright, anyone with sense knows that it’s an open marriage and that River is obviously very poly, something the show itself does lowkey acknowledge, but really it’s just about as plausible to consider that the marriage IS monogamous as it is to consider that it isn’t, so she’s kind of simultaneously poly representation and committed bi/pan representation,in a way, especially since being poly doesn’t make her less committed anyway, since her devotion to the Doctor is never in doubt.) 

  • Favorite moment

Oh god, there’s far too many. I think her speech from Husbands of River Song will always win, though, the “[loving the Doctor] is like loving the stars themselves, you don’t expect a sunset to admire you back”. 

In addition to just being beautiful in the moment and the reveal that came after, it also sheds a whole new light on her character that had only been hinted at before, the realisation that all this time, she’s never believed he loves her back. That she has, in words of a later episode, without hope, without witness, without reward, loved him all that time, because that’s her truth. 

Her moment of realising it’s him, realising that god, maybe he does love her back, is just so incredible. 

  • Idea for a story

Anything about Darillium is always fun, or things that involve her flirting with ladies. I’m working on a thing with her and the Doom Coalition audios companion Helen, because they’re really beautiful and gay together and I have a lot of feelings. 

  • Unpopular opinion

I mean I know a lot of people have dumb opinions about River but I’m pretty sure most of what I’ve already said goes against those, so… yeah. Haters can hate but they’re missing out on one of the best female characters to ever exist in Doctor Who ever so… their loss, really. 

  • Favorite relationship

Her and the Doctor, obviously. What a fucking power couple did you see how quickly they jumped into action in THoRS once she knew who he was? 

I’ll never be over them, frankly, because they’re heartbreaking from the beginning but also fun and silly and adorable and passionate and devoted and I just…. they cover almost all the bases you could possibly want, they’re hot and cute and silly all at once. 

(Runners up are River and her parents, and River/Helen(/Liv) in Doom Coalition bc g a y c u t i e s

  • Favorite headcanon

Her numerous wives, including Benny, Clara, Helen, Liv, and Quill. (I’d say Missy but like, they’d just murder each other probably imo, lmao)

She 100% helped Helen Sinclair come to terms with being a lesbian and is very soft with her 1960′s wife okay that’s very important to me. 

this got super long but I love River Song so so so so much like fcuk there will never be enough words she’s so important

Secret (J.D. x Reader)

“Could you do a jd x reader where they’ve been friends for a while and she confronts him abt heather’s suicide and take it where ever you want ((;“

(Wow this took a really long time. I’m so sorry!! There’s been a lot of stuff happening in my personal life and also I am a major procrastinator help) (also lmao im not completely sure if this is what you wanted but here ya go its not really a confrontation ugh im sorry im bad at life also the ending is rushed sorry)

(Idk why but he turned out to have more of a movie J.D. personality, sorry!)

WC: 1,709

Warnings: suicide mentions (obviously), unhealthy relationship, cussing, the very beginning of this is kinda angsty WHOOPS, gets kinda steamy i guess, majorly ooc whoops


Ever since you had heard what happened, it seemed you were stuck in your own head. It felt like you were stuck in this endless loop of “that can’t be true, that can’t be true, that can’t be true”. Ms. Fleming tried to talk to you, with little to no response.

There is no way Heather Chandler commit suicide, was the thought that been running through your mind for what seemed like forever. None of your friends understood why you seemed so fixated on Heather’s death. You didn’t blame them, simply because you didn’t fully understand it either. You hated Heather Chandler, and Heather Chandler hated you. She bullied you constantly, so why would you be so worked up over this?

Well, if you were being honest, it’s because it didn’t make any fucking sense.

There were too many holes in the story, too many inconsistencies. The suicide note didn’t sound like Heather at all. You weren’t buying the whole “popular girl on the outside, tortured soul on the inside” shit. And why would she kill herself by drinking drain cleaner, of all things? That just didn’t seem like Heather Chandler to you.

“Hey… (Y/N)? (Y/N)… (Y/N)!!” A deep voice broke you out of your thoughts and you were brought back to the present.

You were at you friend (and longtime crush) J.D.’s house. Luckily, his sleazy dad wasn’t home to make you uncomfortable. You were sitting on the couch, watching a random TV show with a slushie in your hand. J.D. had been waving his hand in front of your face to catch your attention. Once he realized you had snapped out of it, his tense posture relaxed and he raised an eyebrow.

“What were you thinking about?” He took a sip of his cherry slushie and you tried (keyword: tried) not to look at his red-stained lips that were currently smirking. You also tried not to look at his messy, but somehow perfect hair. Or those mysterious eyes that seem like they could hold the secrets to the universe within them.

Damn, if there is one person who can get Heather Chandler off of your mind, it’s J.D.

“Oh, you know… stuff.” You so eloquently replied. Really, (Y/N)? “Stuff”? You mentally berated yourself.

“Oh, really?” J.D. deadpans. “What kind of stuff?”

“Um…” You fidget with the hem of your shirt nervously. “It might sound stupid.”

“Tell me.” He rests his hand on your arm, and electricity races through your entire body. Your eyes are cast downwards and you take a deep breath.

“It’s about Heather Chandler.” You say in a quiet tone. J.D. doesn’t say a word, and the silence between you is almost deafening. The only thing you could hear was the TV show in the background, until J.D. slowly picks up the TV remote and presses the mute button.

“(Y/N)…” He says slowly.

“It couldn’t have been suicide, J.D.!” It was like a dam broke (*insert Percy Jackson reference here*), but emotions flooded out rather than water. “It doesn’t make any sense!”

“It makes perfect sense, (Y/N)!” J.D. seemed to be getting more and more agitated every time another word came out of your mouth. You didn’t understand why.

“No, J.D., it doesn’t!” You protested.

“Oh, really? How does it not make sense?” He scoffed back at you.

“Heather Chandler was a dramatic person. We can agree on that.” J.D. nodded in agreement to your words. “If that’s so, why did she kill herself by drinking drain cleaner? I think we can both agree that it would make more sense if she did something much more attention grabbing, like purposely crashing her car into a tree and blowing up, or whatever.” (A/N: okay wow, i feel horrible for even writing that. unfortunately, i’m trying to make this fic as believable as it would be in the heathers universe, and, uh, they’re pretty blunt about this stuff. i’m still really sorry tho :/ )

“Are you really questioning the way she commit suicide? That’s a little morbid, even to me.” J.D. said flatly.

“I… I just…” You stuttered out. You hadn’t expected J.D. to be this cold and uncaring about the situation. Something about this wasn’t right. You took a deep, calming breath.

“I think it might be murder.” You choke out. J.D.’s expression was completely unreadable. He leaned in closer to you, his lids half shut.
Your breath hitched. You would have (naively) thought that he was going to kiss your worries away if you hadn’t seen his smirk.

“Why do you think that?” His voice sent shivers down your spine, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him. You saw his smirk deepen.

“Uh, well… I, um, it’s just-” You were stumbling over your own words. You could feel your face burning, but you couldn’t move away. He took a strand of your hair between his fingers and played with it softly. It’s almost as if he knew the effect he had on you (hint: he did. He would have to be an idiot not to notice).

“Can you keep a secret, (Y/N)?” J.D. asked, almost in a whisper. He was driving you insane.

“Um, y-yes?” You manage to spit out. You blinked your eyes furiously, not understanding where J.D. was going with this. Also, you were desperately trying to ignore the fact that he seemed to be getting closer to you - but that’s just your imagination, right?

Oh shit, it’s not your imagination. His face was so close to yours, if you tilted your head even slightly upwards, your lips would touch. Just one move, one singular move, and everything would change. Do it, (Y/N), a surprisingly courageous voice inside your head said.

Before you could do anything, a low voice interrupted your thoughts.

“You’re right.”

You pulled back your head a bit in confusion. “What?”

“You’re right. Everyone else in this school would never even guess that it wasn’t true. But you… you knew something wasn’t right from the beginning. You’re smart, and that’s why I became friends with you in the first place.” J.D.’s eyes had a dark, angry tint that wasn’t there before. “I know that of all people, you would understand.”

“Understand what? J.D., what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Heather Chandler, (Y/N).” He said quickly. “You’re right. It wasn’t a suicide.”

You processed this information for a moment. You knew it! Of course, it wasn’t suicide! You were right!

Wait. Hold on. Something about this is off.

Your eyes widen and you stare at J.D. in horror and disbelief.

“J.D… How do you know that?” You ask, not daring to rise above a whisper. No. No, there is absolutely no way that your best friend is a murderer. He can’t be. That’s ridiculous. This is all a misunderstanding. Please be a misunderstanding.

J.D. looks at you expectantly. “Come on, you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

Your worst fears have been confirmed, and honestly, it feels like a punch to the gut. You could feel the color draining out of your face. Your best friend took someone’s life, and judging by his reaction, he doesn’t feel very guilty about it. You start to move away from him without thinking. He grabs your arm and pulls you back.

“(Y/N), don’t be like that! Hear me out!” You refused to look him in the eye and he made a frustrated noise. He lifted your chin up so you had no choice but to stare at him face to face.

“Heather Chandler was a complete and utter monster. She terrorized people daily and she was never given any consequences. She deserved what she got. We can rid this world of assholes like her together!” He exclaimed passionately.

“J.D….” You said weakly. Fuck, if only you weren’t looking at him right now. If you weren’t looking at him you could definitely say no. You could say no and call the police and never have to deal with this again.

But you knew, looking at his face, you wouldn’t be able to resist. You would say yes. You would go along with his plan. A sick part of you was telling you, “Doesn’t he have a point? Heather Chandler was horrendous.” But the rest of you disagreed. No one deserved a fate like that, even someone as terrible as Heather.

But here you were, nodding as he gave you the most persuasive look he could muster. You hated yourself for it, but it was too late now.

As soon as he saw you nod, his face broke out into a rare smile. God, you knew you should hate him, but you were still a hormonal teenage girl who was in love with an idiotic boy. Not to mention, that smile was pretty fucking irresistible.
When he looked at you like that, almost all of the worries and self-loathing from your previous decision were erased from your mind.

You weren’t thinking when you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, but you know you certainly weren’t expecting him to kiss you back.

You threaded your fingers through his hair while he gently pushed you on your back, hovering over you. The kiss was was full of fire, almost like a battle. His hands ran down your body until they came to rest at your waist. It seemed like you could keep kissing him forever, until you remembered that you needed to breathe.

You (albeit reluctantly) pull away. God, the sight of J.D like that was… amazing. His hair disheveled, his face pink, his breath coming out in sharp pants. You couldn’t think of anything that could even come close to comparing.

“I love you.” Those three words came out before you thought of the possible repercussions. To your surprise, he merely smirked.

“I know.” He said in a husky voice. You couldn’t take the time to revel in how breathtaking his voice sounded, because his mouth was on yours in almost a second. The kiss was so passionate that you knew in that moment that you were in way too deep, but God, you felt so alive. It felt like your body was racing with electricity. It was a perfect mixture of pleasure and excitement and you knew you could never let that go. 

It was that euphoric feeling that made you stay. That euphoric feeling that made you keep his secret from anyone and everyone. Jason Dean had you wrapped around his finger, and you would never have it any other way.

peachy34  asked:

This might be a lame request, so srry. But how would Yoosung (or all of RFA if you prefer) react to an MC who's super insecure of being in a relationship. Like they think that Yoosung deserves better, or they get worried that he's not interested them anymore. Maybe some fluff w/ how Yoosung comforts/reassures MC about this. Does this make sense?? Sorry if it doesn't, you're more than welcome to ignore this. BUT, good luck on your blog! ❤😘

It’s not lame and it made a lot of sense, don’t worry! And thank you ! C: ❤

Since I only wrote for one character, I made it into a scenario (also my fluff isn’t very good, I should warn you before hand ahhhh), hope you’ll like it anyways ~

Yoosung :

  They had been together for a couple of months now, but it wasn’t enough to erase the doubts and insecurities from Yoosung’s partner. Everyday, they would see him and think he could do better than them. Everyday, he would smile at them and be such a sweetheart; to a point where they almost wished he wasn’t so kind because they just didn’t deserve someone like him in their life.

  They thought it would be okay at first, that things would be easier once they were actually together, but nothing ever seemed to prove that to be right. When they went on dates and they started to enjoy themselves and the time they spent together, something always clicked in their mind; as if to remind them they didn’t deserve to be so happy and then, the guilt and the uneasy feeling clutching at their heart would be too overwhelming to think about anything else.

  And since they had started dating, Yoosung had taken it upon himself to become a better man for them by acting more like an adult and being successful and hard working – which ended up as him being the center of attention at university. Students knew him now to have the best grades in all his classes and this also brought a new kind of charm to the young man, who felt like he was back in high school, with all these clubs asking him to join and those girls confessing to him. Of course, in his head, none of those girls mattered and he always refused each of their advances, making it clear he had already found his one and only – but in his s/o’s head, things were more complicated.

  He was always so honest, so kind hearted and so good to them; never wanting to hide anything from his lover, even if it was something that didn’t matter. Those love confessions were one of these things. Every time it happened, his partner felt like he should have accepted those girls’ affections instead of the one they provided, which never felt like good enough for a man like him. But at the same time, they loved him so much that just thinking of him leaving them for another one broke their heart, even if they sometimes thought it would be for the best. They were always so worried he would find someone better and while they tried their best to conceal those thoughts, Yoosung – despite his inexperience in relationships -  was no idiot.

  He contemplated for a while whether or not he should confront them about the way they acted sometimes. He saw the way they would stop in the middle of laughing, how hesitant they were to accept his compliments and his attention, or how they always seemed to limit themselves, as if something was holding them back. After some time and no progress in their behaviour towards him, he began to worry about their well-being. Unsure as to what he was supposed to do, he thought having a heart to heart conversation would be the best course of action. After all, they had always been there to listen to his troubles, and he was determined to be as good to them as they had been to him.

   On a day when neither of them had anything to do but stay at home together, he joined them on the couch and wrapped his arms around their waist, nuzzling their cheek softly. When they hesitantly touched his arms and cast their gaze downwards, he thought now was as good a time as any to talk. He caught their chin in his fingers and made them look at him while he gave them the most reassuring and loving smile he could muster – he might have grown more mature, but they still made him feel like a teenager, madly and utterly in love. 

  When they poured their heart out to him after some convincing from his part, he was rendered speechless. Never in his entire life would he have thought his lover, the one whom he saw as perfect and amazing, would feel like they didn’t deserve to be his partner. He didn’t think highly of himself and constantly thought of ways to better himself so he could finally become worthy of them – and to think they were the one unsure of their place in this relationship was almost unfathomable to him, if it hadn’t been for their crestfallen expression.

  Without waiting for a second longer, he clasped his hands on either side of their face and gazed into their eyes, with one of the most intense look they had ever seen in his eyes – it reminded them of their first RFA party, the one where they had met for the first time – he had had the same look in his uncovered eye as he expressed his feelings before kissing them.

“You are, without a doubt, the best thing that’s ever happened to me and there isn’t a day when I don’t think to myself that I’m the luckiest man alive to have such a wonderful person by my side. Someone who loved me even when I was at my lowest, when I was nothing more than a lazy boy who had given up on his future because he was too scared of letting go of the past. Someone who has helped me see the world for what it is and showed me the future I could have if I believed in myself a little more. No matter what happens, no one else will ever mean what you mean to me – I will never love anyone more than you, the one person I was ready to lose my eye for if it meant I could protect them. You have helped me in ways you’ll never understand and I don’t think I will ever be able to return the favor for all you’ve done – but I promise you, that you are the only one who belongs in my heart and you should be more confident, because you’ve saved me from a dark place I didn’t think I’d ever leave. I love you.”

(jfc I felt embarrassed writing that – the whole time I just kept thinking ‘how the fuck am I able to write such cheesy mushy stuff when I am anything but romantic??)

Statement of Fact

Summary: Selene says it like it is. Gladion is flustered. Hau is a fanboy of a pretty actress and Lillie ships it.

Relationships: Gladion x PC, the Alolan Quartet, Hau is a fanboy.

Notes: Slightly AU. But not enough to matter.

It said a lot for the genes Lusamine had passed down to her children, Selene thought as she stared blatantly at Gladion over the food-laden table the four of them were sitting at, going over every aspect of his face like her ability was Keen Eye. It wasn’t anyone who could pull off being a punky edgelord and still have the face of an angel. Even during the times when he lived in a motel room and worked as a mercenary for Team Skull, not getting proper nutrition and under a lot of stress, Gladion had looked good.

Now, more relaxed, happier and well-fed, he was radiant. In addition to his fine-featured face - with the high cheekbones and the perfect nose and grass-green eyes shaped sharply - he had a leisurely air, like he could afford to chill. The vanished tenseness made him look both his age and a lot more approachable. 

If he smiled more, Selene thought idly, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to think that he’d get cast as a model or an actor, maybe even an idol right off the streets by any castor with halfway decent vision. 

Actually, come to think of it, that was a likely possibility even if he didn’t smile. Wasn’t the bad boy concept getting popular?

He noticed. “Why are you staring at me,” he said flatly, losing his smile. He’d gotten happier, but someone staring intently with lasers practically shooting out of their eyes would make anyone uncomfortable and wary.

“Did you know you’re really good-looking,” she replied. Like him, it wasn’t exactly a question, more a statement of fact.

Hau choked on his malasada, and Lillie dropped her fork. Both of them gawped.

Gladion stared at her with disbelief, like she had suddenly morphed into an Ultra Beast before his eyes.

What, was the fact that he was good looking new to him? Did he not look in a mirror or something? Well, if he wasn’t fully aware of how good-looking he was, she’d have to let him know.

Selene continued talking. “Have you considered a career as a model? Or an actor? I heard that celebrities who are also really great battlers are all the rage now. Like that actress, Rosa something or another.”

Hau, being Hau, was the first to recover. It might have just been the mention of his favorite actress, however. “Oh I love Rosa! She was so epic in the Full Metal Cop series! Did you know she and her Pokémon do their own stunts? Did you know a fourth movie is coming out?!”

“You could do live-action really well, too,” Selene continued on, ignoring Hau when he went into his Praise-Rosa fanboy form. “You’re already pretty edgy, so …”

A tiny giggle escaped from Lillie. Gladion shot a betrayed look at his sister, who immediately tried to wipe the amused expression off her face. Key word being ‘tried’.

“I mean,” Selene continued on, getting really passionately into it. “It’s practically your civic duty to make your face widely known. It would be a crime to keep the rest of the world from your handsome looks. Seriously, think about it, Gladion.”

He sputtered, and then abruptly got up from his seat. The force he shot up with nearly knocked the chair over.

“I’m going to go pay,” he said in a strained voice, and began speed-walking towards the counter.

“Hey, we already paid!” Hau called.

At the friendly reminder, Gladion changed his directions and marched out of the café.

He wasn’t gone quickly enough for Selene to have missed the sight of the reddened ear peeking out from between pale golden hair, however.


“You know he likes you,” Lillie chided once Hau was out of earshot. She’d deliberately sent him away, asking him to keep an eye on his brother, and he had agreed to do so cheerfully. “Don’t tease him too badly.”

Selene finished her dessert. “I promise I’m not playing with him,” she told Lillie solemnly. She was serious this time, not the faux-solemn she’d been when teasing Gladion.

“I know,” Lillie replied. Her friend wasn’t the type to play with hearts.

She put down her fork and sighed. “Do you think that was too much?” she asked, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

Lillie stifled a laugh at just how much Selene looked like a sad Rockruff, drooping its ears and tail in fear of losing affection. “Probably not,” Lillie said. “He doesn’t hold grudges.”

He wouldn’t against Selene, anyways. Of that Lillie was sure of.

And speaking of things she was sure of . . . .

“Why not just be the first to confess yourself?” she asked. Selene was certainly bold enough to do so. If there was something she wanted, she didn’t wait around shyly silently wishing it would miraculously fall into her lap one day. She reached out and snatched it up.

Not to call her brother an ‘it’, but why not do the same with him?

Selene sighed again, this time in exasperation. “He’s only just gotten to accepting me as a rival,” she reminded Lillie. “If he won’t even admit that we’re at the friend level, how am I supposed to ask him out?”

Her friend had a point. Lillie had a duty to stand by her brother’s side … but just this once she’d go with Selene instead.

Besides, supporting Selene would probably end up making both of them happier a lot faster.

Is it too much to ask?

Is it too much to ask for more Clace in the tv show Shadowhunters? Is it too much to ask that they don’t make up plots and stray from the book so much so you’re eliminating and creating characters? Is it too much to ask to have 100% perfect casting on the characters that I love more than myself?

I adore these characters so much, and, yes, they did MILES better with casting in the show than in the movie, but some I feel is off. Physically fine but the Clary they have doesn’t capture her soul. Not saying I could do any better, but someone probably could.

The Jace they have though, Dom Sherwood, is on point at least most of the time. (Season 2 episode 7 “Dazzle me.” Perfect Jace.) Also Alec, Mathew Daddario, is so spot on I could die.

I can’t wait for Sizzy. I can’t wait for more Clace. Literally all I watch the show for is the ships. I need to reread the books though.

I’ve been thinking a lot tonight about Final Fantasy XIII.

A few weeks back, a friend expressed an interest to play through as much of the Final Fantasy series as they could, only to be immediately told by someone they trusted that XIII should be skipped entirely.

Though driving this potential future liveblogger’s car at the time, I immediately protested. I gave the reasonable but admittedly vague argument that XIII gets much more flak than it deserves from fans of the series. I said that while it’s nothing close to a perfect game, it has many merits, including an egregiously misunderstood cast and a gameplay system that, while not revolutionary by any means, is engaging enough to merit the effort of a forty-hour playthrough. I know I didn’t give the game as glowing a defense as I could have at the time - likely because I was simultaneously driving a car that was not mine at seventy-five miles per hour - but I did manage to say that XIII handles certain themes in a way that I have rarely, if ever, seen in other works.

Tonight, I’ve been thinking about XIII’s ending - not only the final cutscene, but everything that leads up to it. The party’s return to Cocoon and the trek to the final boss is suffused with optimism throughout, even as the stakes for the characters and the setting are very, very real. NORA arrive at the last possible minute to crack jokes and reiterate their love for Snow. Yaag Rosch comes to see the humanity of the branded Pulse l’Cie and inspires his troops to do the same without forcing them to change their beliefs one way or the other. The streets of Cocoon all the way up to the final boss battle against Orphan are filled with color and light.

And contrary to what one might expect, that optimism doesn’t cheapen a single moment of the ending. XIII has its pacing issues, undoubtedly - but the constant affirmations of hope and humanity throughout the game’s last chapter and the tone that these bring are so rare and powerful in a setting that revolves around dystopian themes, and I would argue that the experience of XIII’s final stretch alone is well worth whatever gripes might be had with the rest of the game.

Dipper sat silently in the meadow, ears flicking about every so often. He sat, engrossed in the journal, near the tree line. The morning light cast gently through the trees and a slight breeze could be felt. Dipper sighed in content, he had just barely escaped Stan earlier, and was definitely glad he had not been made to work. Today - in Dipper's mind - was perfect.

He heard shuffling in nearby bushes. looking up he spied a group of deer heading into the clearing, relaxing again.

There was a stag trailed by two smaller males and at least three more female does. Dipper turned back to his book, flipping through the book again to try and find any relevance to a cure.

He paused, holding his breath.

Looking up he traced the other deer, stiff, like the were looking for something. Wrongwrongwrong. He shouldn’t be here. Leave. RUN!

Dipper slowly maneuvered himself up placing the journal back into his vest. He moved forward. Something was wrong. wrongwrongwrongwrong


A shot rang out. He saw the body of one of the smaller male deer’s drop.

Then another shot, the rest of the startled herd raced off in different directions. Dipper stood, to disoriented to move, hidden in the shadows of the trees. He saw flashes of bright orange move to the corpse.

“How could you miss it, the animal was standing right in front of you!?”

“The light was in my eye ok! just hurry up and take the picture.”

Dipper only stood watching the two men, his body screaming to move get as far away as he can. But his mind was in to much shock. 

As soon as he saw the light glint off of the riffle of the older hunter, he took an unconscious step back.

“Did you hear that?”

“It could be that stag.”


Dipper finally registered the two hunters quickly working their way in his direction.

In an instant Dipper ran to the bushes and undergrowth.

A shot rang out.

Dipper felt a burning sensation on his left lower leg, tumbling, he hit the ground.

“Follow it!”

He could hear the leaves crunching under heavy boots. Dipper struggled to push himself up. Bolting as soon as his hooves had traction.

“This way, it’s injured!”

His sides heaved, lungs burning for air, he was running out of time. They were closing in. Dipper spotted a large pine tree, a small opening through it’s needles.

“It couldn’t have gotten far.”

Dipper slipped silently into the safety of the tree. He could hear the boots again, getting ever so closer. Dipper held his breath, pressing himself as far back into the darkness as he could. The boots stomped by, their conversation all but dying out as they headed out in search. Dipper remained stiff, paranoia eating at his mind. He had almost died.

what if they were still their? No. Waiting just outside to catch you. … Their going to kill you. That doesn’t - that - There going to get you. NO they wo- Shoot you in cold blood! They were going to KILL YOU!

Dipper’s body trembled, mind racing as the thoughts kept bubbling up. silent  tears began to slide down his cheeks, he sat there jumping at every sound. What if they were still out there…


Bill Muttered a curse under his breath.

Stupid Stan, stupid shack, stupid forest, stupid pine tree, stupid su-

Bill tripped on a out grown root, landing in a bush.


In an instant the bush was burned to a pile of ashes, an angry Bill Cipher briskly brushing himself off, Pacing forward a couple of steps.

“If I ever find Pine Tree I am going to ring his neck- why couldn’t Stan just send Wendy to find him, or Soos, I mean really.”

“It’s almost 11:00!”

Bill looked past the trees to see the setting sun.

“How am I supposed to find him?!”

He heard a sound, turning his head he tried to pinpoint it, straining to listen. He shrugged when nothing came. Continuing his rant he walked by a large pine tree.

He heard another whimper, a familiar energy filling his senses.

“Pine Tree?”

silence. Bill could hear slight shifting. A whisper answering his question.



There was more shifting, then Bill saw him.

“Pine Tree?!”

Dipper was covered in scratches, dried blood covering some of them. His eyes were puffy, cheeks tinted pink. All the animosity Bill had felt dissipated as soon as he saw him. A noise sounded off somewhere in the distance, Dipper’s body instantly tensed and he darted back into hiding.

“Kid, what’s going on?”

It took some coaxing but Bill had managed to get him to tell the story.

“You’ve been here all day!?”

Dipper nodded silently

“C'mon kid”

Bill held his hand out, Dipper taking it hesitantly.

“I’m taking you home” Bill hesitated for a second pondering “Besides, even if I wanted to leave you hear if I returned to your gargrunkle without you he would have my head.”

Dipper smiled, only slightly.

“Oh c'mon that was a good joke, and you know it.”

“No joke you could ever make would be a good joke.”

“Oh? I’m hurt.”

A light chuckle hit the Dream Demons ears.

“I told you I was funny.”

shellumbo  asked:

I know how much you adore Bucky and Steve, and, really, they are worthy of adoration, but what other MCU characters are you fondest of?

It’s funny, I started out in the MCU because I loved Tony Stark so much. I read IM comics when I was a kid growing up and they were these fourth-tier comic books no one admitted to reading until Black Sabbath’s Iron Man song came out. And like most people, I loved the first IM movie (and the third, because I’d never seen anyone address PTSD in that way till CA:TWS came out). I am sad that the MCU took my love, took it down.

My next big crush in the comics was Sam Wilson. When I heard they’d cast Mackie as Sam I think I screeched so high that only dogs could hear me. Sam is just…he is a perfect human being, and I love the way they handled him in MCU more than almost any other comics to movies translation.

And Clint, of course. I think–I hope–I’ve made my love for Clint clear in my fic, because he’s such a delight. Even if you hate the Fraction version of him, he’s just such a hilarious train wreck of a dude I can’t understand how you can’t love him. One of my favorite versions of him, in fact, is from Avengers Assemble and Might Avengers cartoons, where’s a ridiculous excuse for a human.

I’d never really paid a lot of attention to Natasha before the Winter Soldier books, and seeing her in IM 2 really caught my eye and I kind of fell in love with her then. (I’m going to spare readers my rant about what Joss has done with her.) But nothing will ever surpass her friendship with Steve in Winter Soldier. For me that was one of the greatest things in a nearly perfect movie, the development of her character and her role in the universe.

I also love Sharon and Maria, it always pains me that people rag on Sharon especially. I have a super niche pairing of Sam and Maria, and let me tell you, that is a heartbreaking ship because almost 99 percent of tags are background pairings that are hardly even in the fic.

Biggest surprise was Thor. I never cared at all about him, but I have come to love him so much–he has such a good heart, and writing him for Avengers fic has done so much to change my opinion of him.

Break The Ice

(/^▽^)/ have some mutual pining SnowBaz style! This is dedicated to @snowkatze. 💜

Word count: 1,074


I wake to Snow crashing into our bedroom at too-late-o’ clock. You’d think after seven years living here at Watford that he would be able to stay quiet so his roommate could sleep.

“What in Merlin’s beard are you doing?” I groan.

He pulls off his damp shirt, huffs, and flops onto his bed. He shifts his body so he can stare at the ceiling. I take this time to admire the curls plastered to his face. It must be raining outside. “It’s not your business, Baz. Besides, why would you care?” He turns to glare at me. I smirk.

I raise my hands in mock-defeat. “Calm down, Snow. I was just trying to be nice for once.”

His glare intensifies. “Sure,” he turns his head away from me to resume staring at the ceiling.

When I finally hear him snore, I turn my whole body so I can lay on my back and stare at his sleeping form. I momentarily shift my gaze to the digital clock on my desk. I need to feed and visit my mother’s tomb soon. I haven’t in nearly a week.


I hear Baz’s bed springs creak when he stands up. He’s probably going to the Catacombs again. It’s been almost a week since he’s fed. Why has he waited so long? Just waiting two days is bad for him (at least that’s what Penny told me). I really hope he’s alright.

I jump out of bed as soon as the door closes.


I smell intoxicating smoke and hear Snow call for his sword just after draining my fourth rat. So much for talking to my mother.

I stand with my back to the wall facing the entrance, waiting.

“Baz? Are you down here?” Snow inquires before stumbling on a rat’s tail.

Eh. I might as well make this fun. “Oh, mighty Chosen One, you’ve caught me,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. My icy heart makes it nearly impossible to flirt, so sarcasm is the next best thing.


“Have you fed yet? It’s been almost a bloody week. I came to make sure you were alright. Are you?” I lower my sword.

He smirks. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

I roll my eyes and sheathe my sword. “Don’t sass me. I’m just trying to make sure you’re fine, which you’re apparently not. But really, have you fed?” He gives me a questioning look. “I know you’re a vampire. There’s no point in keeping up the facade.”

“I came here to see something-or someone, rather. I’m quite well, Snow. I wouldn’t say the same for you, what with you following a vampire to a place like this.” He raises his right eyebrow like he does when we’re arguing. It looks like he’s challenging me, but to what?

“Quit the games, Baz. I know you can’t go for more than two days without feeding before you start having issues. It’s been almost a week. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but I want you to know that I’m here if you need someone to talk to. I really do care-” I almost add why, but I doubt he’d have a positive reaction to discovering my feelings for him.


He cares. That’s rich. I doubt he cares as much as I do. I’ve been trying to get over my love for him for the past few years and now he’s saying he cares about my problems. He’s my problem. Nothing else. Just him.

“You can never know my problems, Snow. You wouldn’t understand.”

He gives me a small smile. “Try me, Basilton. I’m not as oblivious as you think. I understand more than I let on.”

Should I tell him? Do I say “‘I’m in love with someone I can never have” or “You’re my problem” or “My problem is that you’re the sun and I’m crashing into you”? I don’t know what to say, or if I should say anything at all.


Baz looks like he’s fighting with himself. I want to help him. I love him too much to watch him struggle by himself.

“Baz, please. Let me help you.”

He gives me puppy eyes. I feel like I could melt into a puddle on the stone floor. He’s so beautiful.


He’s so beautiful. I feel a bit of the ice of my heart break, but it’s a good break.

“So are you,” he whispers.

“What?” I school my expression, but on the inside I’m panicking.

“You said I’m beautiful.” He ducks his head and I notice the blush slowly darkening on his cheeks.

Did I?

“Did I?” He nods. “Well, I meant it.”

His smile grows.

“Baz, will you tell me what’s wrong? I want to help you. I really do.”

I sigh. “My problem is that I’m in love with someone I can never have.”


“Me too.” I wish he was in love with me.


“It’s not the same for you, Simon. You can have any person you want. You’re not a blood-sucking monster. You don’t have to hide your true self from the people you love. You’re bloody perfect.” I bet he’s still pining over Agatha.

He chuckles. “You’re not a walking disaster that could go off at any moment. You’re the top student of our class. You cast spells correctly on the first try. You’re the best football player I’ve ever seen. You’re the perfect one here.”

I feel a blush involuntarily spread across my face. A little more ice breaks.

He takes a few steps closer to me. I feel the toes of his trainers touching mine.

“You called me Simon, you know.” He looks into my eyes like he’s trying to read my mind. Judging by the way he’s moving even closer, I’d say he found what he was looking for.


His lips are so close to mine now. Should I go for it?


Should I go for it?


I don’t know who kisses who, but suddenly I feel sparks across my skin and happiness flowing out of me.


I feel Simon’s magic flowing out of him and into my skin. I feel as though I could cast a sonnet if I try. I move my lips away from his. What was left of the ice around my heart breaks away, the negativity melting away from me. I’ve never been this warm.

‘Twinkle twinkle little star.’


My wingless body crumbles as the night falls in a disastrous, suffocating cloak as I yearn for nothing but to feel pure once again;

They call me a Divine king, when soulless am I,
The god for which you sacrifice yourself for flares once, then dies with your torn love for me.
You were enveloped into a perfect mess, devoured by me into a crimson ebon nothingness,
But again, my beloved, all hope must surely perish.

You claim I’ve become one of them, yet I see it different.

Although I wait, I cannot bare it any longer; I must face the truth:

Your love for me is no more.
How could you not understand me?

Disbelieve me?

Hate me?

… Abandon me?
Even the demons surround me, crying, but no longer you.

You have cast me aside, my beautiful forbidden fruit,

And in our tragic tale, you fell alone.

You have lost your love,

I have lost my purity, and together, my darling,

We have lost our light.

Simple Art Tip #7: Draw/Paint Self-Portraits

One of the most challenging exercises I had to do for my first painting class was a series of 20 self-portraits. We had to do one every night for 20 days in a row. It was challenging because I didn’t know what I was doing, it took at least twenty minutes to set up all my oil painting stuff every night, and I went on vacation for a few days in the middle of these 20 days. It’s a good thing I went to Mexico on a bus and not a plane. The airport would not have appreciated my jar of gunky turpenoid very much (because it’s toxic and flammable).

These are my first 20 self-portraits

It’s very important that you do these with a mirror instead of using a picture. It’s a lot faster and easier to use a picture, but you learn a fraction of what you do with a mirror.

Using a mirror forces you to work faster because you’re sitting uncomfortably still to keep your face in the same angle, so you learn to make efficient decisions. You also have to take in lots of visual information at a time, like the perspective of your face, the shapes cast by shadows, noticing changes in contrast and temperature of color (if you’re using color), lighting changes if you’re using daylight as your light source etc. You have none of these things going on when you use a picture. 

I didn’t spend more than two hours on any of these. Sometimes I wanted to keep working on them, but I’d remind myself that the point of these was not to make a perfect self-portrait, but to learn from attempting to. Usually by the two hour mark, I’d already learned everything I could. Anything more would just be overworking the thing. 

You can use any medium for this: digital, traditional paints, pencils, etc. I’ve only used oil paints and pencil, myself. You learn something new with each. 

I used pencil for these. I probably didn’t take more than 30 minutes on them. 

You can also use your medium of choice to learn specific things. For example, you could choose to focus on learning how to draw your face in perspective.

You could also focus on drawing a specific facial feature, like eyes or mouths. Although I suggest you stick to drawing the entire face for the most part because that’ll help you understand how each facial feature relates to another. It’s cool to be able to draw pretty eyes, but it’s much better to be able to draw an entire face that looks cohesive. It’s tough, but it’s worth doing. You’ll learn a lot more a lot faster, too. 

To focus on learning about the volume of a face and how to capture light and shadow accurately, you can use a limited palette of two or three colors (or just black and white). I love painting portraits with dramatic lighting. To get dramatic lighting, you just have to point a light at yourself at whatever angle you want in a dimly lit room. I use a cheap clamp light from Home Depot. 

I’ve also worked on capturing temperature changes in the face. This is the stuff I struggle with the most. Temperature refers to warm (reds, yellows and oranges) and cool (purples, blues and greens) colors.

I usually prefer to work with exaggerated colors because I think it’s fun, but you can use whatever colors you want. If you want to start with a classic palette, you can use the “old master’s palette” that I was given in school:

-titanium white

-ivory black

-cadmium red light

-cadmium yellow light

-yellow ocher 

-ultramarine blue

-and, if you want, burnt umber (because I like it)

Regardless of what medium you’re using, you want to start with a loose drawing of your face. Most people like to work out each feature individually, focusing on making the eyes perfect before moving on to the nose, etc. Fight the urge to do that. Start with the general shape of the head first, then look at the features in relation to one another. Don’t start adding details until you’re at least halfway through with your self-portrait. The first thing you want to learn is how to draw the head and features in perspective and in relation to one another. 

Once I have a pretty good loose sketch, I start adding in the various shadows and colors in bold shapes as I see them. I don’t worry about making smooth transitions between colors. I work those out until they look good. By then I’m about ¾ of the way through. Then I might start adding details like pupils and nostrils, etc. I don’t usually worry about painting individual eyelashes or hairs. That’s a waste of time. I keep my shapes as bold as possible. 

Remember that it’s okay if your self-portrait doesn’t look that much like you or if it isn’t very pretty. You’re not doing this to make pretty drawings of yourself. The purpose of these self-portraits is to teach yourself how to draw or paint a face with a particular medium. 

A lot of people made fun of my self-portraits because I look like I have a mustache and I look angry in most of them. I don’t care. The mustache was a shadow and I look angry because it’s hard to smile at the mirror for two hours straight. I learned a ton from painting what I saw and not what I wanted to look like. 

That is how to use self-portraits as a learning exercise.

If you want to paint a nice portrait (self or otherwise), you can use a picture. I will make a tutorial on how to do this soon. For now, here is a self-portrait and a portrait of my sister based on pictures. 

These look pretty good, but making less attractive self-portraits with a mirror will teach you a whole lot more about portrait painting. Doing self-portrait exercises will make you even better at making picture-based portraits in the long run. 

Remember, you WILL struggle at first and that’s okay. If you’re struggling, you’re doing it right. If you have any questions about making self-portraits or anything else please let me know! I’m here to help :)



anonymous asked:

do you know of any ya dystopias with queer/trans protagonists?

Ahhhhh I love the smell of queer dystopias in the morning…

Anyway, Yes! I know quite a few actually! I’m assuming this ask is about books but I’d like to mention a tv series called The 100 first. It’s set just under 100 years after a nuclear war and the main character is bisexual (which we find out when she gets a female love interest in season 2). Season 3 starts later this year and I’ve really enjoyed watching it. By no means is it perfect but the cast is more diverse than a lot of shows I’ve watched. 

OK, so now on to books! (This list is lacking in the trans character department because I could find barely any books with trans characters in so as a note to the followers of this blog, if you know any trans dystopian novels please let me know or reblog and mention them there, thanks.)

The Butterfly and the Flame by Dana De Young (x)  “ In the year 2404, America is no more. In a land ruled by the oppressive theocracy known as the Dominion of Divinity, being gay is a capital offense, adultery is punished with the lash, women are forbidden to work, and forced marriages are common. Fifteen-year-old Emily La Rouche faces an impossible choice. On her sixteenth birthday, she will be forced to marry Jonathan Marsh, the son of her landlord. If she refuses, her family will lose everything. If she takes his hand, it is certain that her life will end by a hangman’s noose in front of an angry mob. All because Emily has been hiding an enormous secret for years-she was born a boy. As the wedding approaches, Emily’s parents realize the only way that she will be safe is if she is to escape the Dominion.” Since the description uses language like “born a boy” I’m not sure how accurate or respectful the book will be, especially since I haven’t read it, but it’s the only one I could find with a trans main character. Obviously trigger warnings for homophobia and probably transphobia by the sounds of it.

The Culling by Steven dos Santos (x) “Recruitment Day is here…if you fail, a loved one will die. For Lucian “Lucky” Spark, Recruitment Day means the Establishment, a totalitarian government, will force him to become one of five Recruits competing to join the ruthless Imposer task force. Each Recruit participates in increasingly difficult and violent military training for a chance to advance to the next level. Those who fail must choose an “Incentive”—a family member—to be brutally killed. If Lucky fails, he’ll have to choose death for his only living relative: Cole, his four-year-old brother.”

Love in the Time of Global Warming by Francesca Lee Block (bisexual main character, several secondary queer characters including a trans guy love interest for the main character)  (x). “Her life by the sea in ruins, Pen has lost everything in the Earth Shaker that all but destroyed the city of Los Angeles. She sets out into the wasteland to search for her family, her journey guided by a tattered copy of Homer’s Odyssey. Soon she begins to realize her own abilities and strength as she faces false promises of safety, the cloned giants who feast on humans, and a madman who wishes her dead.”

Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith (x) is another novel set in a dystopia setting. “Sixteen-year-old Austin Szerba interweaves the story of his Polish legacy with the story of how he and his best friend , Robby, brought about the end of humanity and the rise of an army of unstoppable, six-foot tall praying mantises in small-town Iowa.” Austin is bisexual/pansexual though he never uses the words.

The First Twenty by Jennifer Lavoie (x) “Humanity was nearly wiped out when a series of global disasters struck, but pockets of survivors have managed to thrive and are starting to rebuild society. Peyton lives with others in what used to be a factory. When her adopted father is murdered by Scavengers, she is determined to bring justice to those who took him away from her. She didn’t count on meeting Nixie.”

Proxy by Alex London (x) “Knox was born into one of the City’s wealthiest families. A Patron, he has everything a boy could possibly want—the latest tech, the coolest clothes, and a Proxy to take all his punishments. When Knox breaks a vase, Syd is beaten. When Knox plays a practical joke, Syd is forced to haul rocks. And when Knox crashes a car, killing one of his friends, Syd is branded and sentenced to death. Syd is a Proxy. His life is not his own.” The character Syd is gay from what I’ve read.

Twixt by Sarah Diemer (x)  “ You wake upon the cold ground. As you struggle to rise, as your breath exhales like a ghost, you know only two things: You can’t remember who you are. And you’re being hunted.”

The End by Nora Olsen (x) I was reading an article (x) which said “my debut novel (The End) was an apocalyptic YA novel with lesbian, bisexual, and genderqueer main characters.” So while I haven’t read it you might wanna check it out (this article also talks about other dystopian queer novels). “When World War Three breaks out, seventeen-year-old Julia is on a school trip to Amsterdam, while fourteen-year-old Marly is trapped in a prison for delinquent girls. They both discover magical amulets, and try their best to save themselves and those around them. But it looks like their best will not be enough, as nuclear war threatens the survival of the human race. On her journey home to New York, Julia is joined by three other queer teens and the mysterious and alluring Ginger; lipstick lesbian Vikki; and five-thousand-year-old Skilly, who has an amulet that grants him eternal life.”

Santa Olivia by Jacqueline Carey (x) “Loup Garron was born and raised in Santa Olivia, an isolated, disenfranchised town next to a US military base inside a DMZ buffer zone between Texas and Mexico. A fugitive “Wolf-Man” who had a love affair with a local woman, Loup’s father was one of a group of men genetically-manipulated and used by the US government as a weapon. After her mother dies, Loup goes to live among the misfit orphans at the parish church, where they seethe from the injustices visited upon the locals by the soldiers. Eventually, the orphans find an outlet for their frustrations: They form a vigilante group to support Loup Garron who, costumed as their patron saint, Santa Olivia, uses her special abilities to avenge the town.” I think the main character is a lesbian and there is at least one other queer character.

anonymous asked:

can we have a cute/but smutting blurb of you and niall on christmas eve please??? :D

It had started snowing about an hour ago, coating Niall’s front yard with a blanket of the whitest snow you’d ever seen.  You had decided to stay in for the night, it was Christmas Eve after all.  He was reading something on his iPad while you finished up a book, your feet tangled together on the couch.  You weren’t sure where the Christmas music came from, but suspected Niall had something to do with it.  A crackling fire burned in the fireplace while the lights from the tree twinkled against the wall.  The cinnamon stick candle you’d lit a few hours ago now casting the faintest hint of the scent around the house.  How on earth could life get any more perfect?

Niall cleared his throat gently, unaware that you were staring at him over your book.  It was nights like these, where the rest of the world fell away and it was just you and him, that you could remind yourself just how in love with him  you were.

You put your book down, leaning forward to grab at his toes,

“Hey…did you set out cookies for Santa?”

Niall kept his eyes on his iPad, though he tried to get his toes away from your pinchy fingers,

“Ow…stop.  Santa’s not real.”  

You pouted slightly,

“That’s not true.”

He cast you a look over his iPad,

“Ya bein’ serious right now?  Because if you still believe in Santa I’m gonna need t’talk t’your parents.”

“They didn’t want to upset my delicate sensibilities.”

Niall shook his head, his fingers pinching at his lips while he kept reading,

“Your delicate sensibilities that flipped me off earlier when I asked if ya knew ya needed to turn the burner on t’actually cook the spaghetti?”

Keep reading

We Need Diverse Books

As a lifelong reader, I always inserted myself into the stories I read. I was the main character. I was the saucy sidekick. I was the cool cat. The romantic interest was the guy I liked and the MC’s best friend was my best friend. I created a new physical reality for the book, and if an overly descriptive passage didn’t match my imaginings it would be jarring, and oftentimes kicked me right out of the story.

As a librarian I’ve encouraged reluctant readers to use this tactic, to cast the book with themselves and their friends (or enemies!) in order to make it more real, more enjoyable, a more palpable experience of an alternate reality that they can truly participate in. I see it working more often than not.

Every now and then I see reviews of NOT A DROP TO DRINK where people say they wish I would describe my characters more so that they could visualize them. The truth is that I purposely resist in-depth physical descriptions because I want the reader to have perfect freedom to visualize the characters in any way they choose. 

This includes skin color.

In short, we need diverse books because everyone assumes Lynn is white.