worst drawing day in a long time

A super quick sketch for Viktuuri week!! I can’t let this awesome event pass by without contributing. I did this at work, took me like 45 min in between meetings hahaha I’m the worst. I’ll try to do other ones with a bit more quality time. 

And Yuuri with long hair because YES. Long distance prompt.

3

@illaalia  :for Emoji thingg, koala: F5, Sabo A8, Nami: E3? if thats too many, i’m sorry!~~ >w<;; anyone is ok! 

Here you go~ :>

Homeless

Prompt: Clash of social classes in which Luhan is poor

Genre: ??? I actually have no idea how to categorize this. Mild angst? Idek

Word Count: 1987


The first time you saw him, you had to do a double take.

Yeah, he had some dirt and grime smudged into his skin, clothes that had seen better days, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while, but he was still cute. In fact, you didn’t look back at him because of his clothing status, or hair; there were plenty of other people on the streets like that. You looked back because he was handsome, and it wasn’t until you took the second glance that you noticed his ragged appearance. And putting both observations together caused confusion, or was it intrigue?

Whatever it was, it made you slow down because you began to stare.


He noticed.

You quickly looked forward again and began walking to the subway entrance a little bit faster, failing to see him duck his head to stare back at the ground as soon as your eyes met.




Every day, when you walked to the subway to go home, he was there, sitting against an old building, sometimes singing, and always a tin can for charity change which sat in front of him. Beside him, there lay an old, yet reliable backpack with rationed food, water bottles, a blanket, a jacket, and the money he received from yesterday.

Every day you’d pass by him, and every day the two of you would make fleeting eye contact.


It wasn’t until one day, a month later, that you got off work early and stopped to listen to him sing. He had his eyes closed, and he was leaning back with his hand folded over his chest. If he wasn’t singing, you’d think he was sleeping.

His voice was sweet and captivating and when he held out his last note, you found yourself wishing the song didn’t end.

He opened his eyes and looked up at you.

You startled back a step, blinking a few times, before clearing your throat and pulling out the first bill in your bag that your fingers felt to drop it into the can.

“You have a really nice voice,” you said with a friendly smile.

“Thanks. That took a while to say hello, though, not gonna lie.” He grinned back.

“Well…yeah, yeah it was. What’s your name?”

“Luhan. Yours?”




“Can I treat you to some coffee?”

It had been a couple weeks since you made acquaintances with Luhan, and every day on your way home, you would greet each other and whatever spare change you had was dropped into his can with soft, metallic clanking. Now you wanted to treat him to some coffee, spend a little free time together. He was cool.

“I don’t want to bother you with-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, Luhan. I wanna hang out with you. Tell me a story or something.”

“Well…I guess, yeah. Sure. Thanks.”


“So where did you go yesterday?” You asked as he sipped his cup. “I didn’t see you at your spot.”

“I was at a hotel.”

“A hotel? Why?”

“To wash up. Once I save enough money, I can get a proper bed, a warm shower, TV, room service, though I rarely order it. I only get it if I really have enough.”

“So you only get to shower once every week or so?”

He took a long draw from the steaming cup before answering. “Warm shower,” he corrected. “I wash up whenever I can, and I take the little shampoo things from the rooms. But I go if I have enough. That’s after making sure I have enough to feed myself and get water and other essentials. Sometimes it’s choosing between a blanket or a bed. Winter can get pretty harsh, but people tend to be more generous around Christmas time. Sometimes I get enough to stay at a hotel for two days. Summer is the worst though. It’s hot and you’re all sweaty and gross and that just adds more negative appeal to your appearance.” He took another gulp.

You sat there, watching the steam rise and curl from your coffee, letting his words sink in.

“So you really are homeless?”

He chuckled. “Believe me. If I had a place to settle down, I would.”

“How long have you lived like this?”

“Hmmm…a couple years? I moved from my old spot because some of the guys there were getting troublesome and I like my face.”

“It’s a good face.”

“You know it,” he replied with a smirk. “But just so you don’t get the wrong idea,” his face grew serious again, “I don’t sit against that wall all day begging for money. It’s humiliating, honestly. Anyone who begs has to stuff down and even destroy whatever pride they have in themselves to ask strangers for money, and all we can be is thankful because without their charity…well, too bad the world revolves around wealth.”

“Would it…would it be too much to ask what happened?”

He shook his head. “Nah…not really. A lot of people actually have the same or similar stories.” He downed the last of his coffee and took a bite of the pastry you bought him. “Basically what happened was I made a bad investment at the worst time. I loaned my friend a good bit of money to help support him in his business that he wanted to start, and it had a good future if it wasn’t for the city’s economic downturn four years ago. His business was crushed, he couldn’t pay me back, a bunch of people like myself got laid off, I couldn’t pay for my bills or my home, and eventually I had to move out to the streets.”

“I’m so sorry that happened.”

“Yeah, I am too, but right now, the best I can do is just get by and save money as best as I can.” He took another bite and chewed slowly, staring at a spot on the table. “It’s funny,” he said after he swallowed, “most people who are homeless don’t actually live on the streets. Even I don’t stay out here for too long. I usually crash at a friend’s house, like most, but I felt bad for mooching all the time so I’m just…enjoying the fresh air…I actually know quite a few kids who are homeless too.”

“What?”

“Mhmm. If parents lose their jobs, their homes, so do their kids. The sad thing is, since most places require a solid bank account and address and stuff, it’s really hard to get back on your feet once it’s gone. Believe me, not all of us are junkies or alcoholics. A lot of us are trying to get a home, a job, our lives back. Even people who work can be homeless too. I’m working, but housing can get really expensive in the cities so I’m saving as much as I can for a small apartment at least…sorry, I’m rambling.” He took another bite.

“No, it’s fine. It's…a bit of a perception change.”

“Yeah.”

“So what do you do.”

“Ambitiously washing dishes. My shift ends about half an hour before you pass by and then I sing a little sometimes, it helps.”

You finished your coffee. Here was this pleasant, friendly person with a nice sense of humor and a good heart, working as best as he could and still barely scraping by each day. A world revolving around money instead of character. And here you were working a solid job with great pay, with a huge inheritance from your family, and living in the penthouse suite of the chain of apartments your family also owned.

“Hey, Luhan?”

“Yeah?”

“I uh…my family actually owns quite a few apartment complexes, condos and such. I can see if we can give you an address to keep, I’m sure we can, and you can pay it off when you can and I can help you if you want. Please let me help you.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed and still processing. It took a few moments to for him to clear his throat to reply. His eyes hardened with cautious defense.

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way but homeless people can disappear easily and pretty much no one would notice. How do I know you aren’t gonna, I dunno, sell me or something. I don’t even know who you really are.

This startled you. “O-oh. Well, I…damn, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think of how weird it might be for you but I, uh…”

You pulled out your phone and typed your family name into the search engine. You started laughing, unable to believe you were actually looking yourself up.

“Here. I know this is super weird and stuff but this is really me. I just, I just really want to help a friend out.”

He stared.

“What the fuck? You're…you’re rich? Like rich, rich! How-what?”

“I really-”

“No. Hold up. You’re super rich like, really fucking rich?”

“My family is. I still work.”

“But you-what are you, some billionaire philanthropist? What are you doing just talking with me over a cup of coffee? Shouldn’t you be living in some CEO penthouse suite for the rest of your life? Why do you use the subway? The fuck?!”

“My parents raised me to earn my money. My family is rich but I’m not so different from regular people either, and I guess I just got used to taking the subway. Seriously though, I…I wanna help you out.”

He chewed on his lip, turning the whole situation over in his mind.

“But I-I don’t have enough…well, enough anything to pay you back. Why would you-”

“Please. Don’t worry about it. Think of it like…like I’m making an investment. As long as you work hard.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“This isn’t some sort of joke, you’re actually gonna help?”

“Yes, I am. It’s just not fair for you, for anyone.”

He looked down. “The world isn’t fair, but damn.” He looked you in the eyes, his emotions swimming and you could tell he was forcing himself not to cry. “Thank you. Thank you so much. It’s been so hard when almost everyone passes by you without looking, and when they do it’s with pity or contempt or disgust. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I really don’t know how to thank-” His voice broke and he began sobbing, biting back the sounds that wanted to escape from his throat. He just hid his face in his hands, as his shoulders shook with the weight of life being lifted off, even if it was just a little.




You had invited him to your penthouse suite for a warm dinner and a nice shower and the spare bed while everything got sorted out.

You changed into something more comfortable and when you left your bedroom, you found him standing close to the window wall. He looked down, watching the night lights of the city, the moving life so far beneath him.

“It’s beautiful,” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” you stood next to him and looked down. “Yeah, it is.” Seeing the city from so far up in his point of view, his view that was always on the stained concrete, it really was very beautiful.

“Maybe that’s why so many people in this position are ruthless, thinking they’re better than the rest of us,” he whispered mostly to himself. “They’re just so used to looking down on everyone. And everyone seems to have to look down on someone else to feel better about themselves…isn’t it sad?”

You could only nod and you stared at the breathing lights below.

“Thank you for not being that kind of person, and don’t let the fleeting image of money or power cloud your kindness. Because anyone. Anyone can become homeless. Who are we to put our security in bits of paper and the intangible concept of ownership. All our stuff will go to someone else sooner or later, so why should it matter so much?”

You’re my Masterpiece

Finally got something out :)

Little known fact, Eliza x Readers are my absolute favorite.

Pairing: Eliza x Reader

Warning: So, so much fluff

Requested: Yes, anon requested Eliza x Reader with the prompt “Character A loves to paint and has found a new love for painting anywhere on Character B’s body”

Requests are open and appreciated. 

Word Count: 1000 (wowie, this will never happen again)

masterlist

__________________

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2

Roxas (Color Palette Challenge)

Oh my gosh…This was a journey. Brian, (@gambalt) you better know that I love you because I spent 3 days researching, practicing drawing and refining this character. I mean…I spent so much time on him that we’re probably best friends now. 

Sorry it took so long. It took me a while to get him right. The early sketches were the worst things I’ve ever seen.

It’s not the Whisky, it’s the company

An injured stranger, with secrets hidden behind a warm smile may mean danger for the town. McCree knows this, and yet its not just his worries, or the promise of whisky that draws him to the bar most days. Western AU. Written for Mc76 Week 2017. Day 7 Prompt: AU.

Inspired by @infinite-atmosphere and @prettyarbitrary and THIS POST

Disclaimer: As always Overwatch and its amazing characters don’t belong to me, I’m just borrowing them.

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anonymous asked:

heather mac

Send me a character and I’ll tell you:

First impression

Why is this 30 year old in a high school


Impression now

Really overrated 10/10 least favorite Heather


Favorite moment
I love in the locker room after Chandler’s death when she’s whining about how unfair it is that they don’t get a whole day off cause the first time watching the movie obviously you think she’s upset that her, ya know, best friend died, but nah she don’t give a flying fuck where’s her long weekend binch.


Idea for a story
I’M JUST NOT GONNA ANSWER THIS ONE ANYMORE CAUSE I DON’T WRITE STORIES I JUST DRAW SHIT,,, 

Unpopular opinion
lowkey she’s the worst Heather imo morally cause Duke and Chandler (mostly Chandler) actively do the mean stuff cause they personally enjoy it which is shitty but Mac does it because Chandler wants her to, while also not feeling bad about it, and that’s just so wishy washy and spineless idk 


Favorite relationship
The clingy way she is with Chandler in the cafeteria scene has always been really cute to me so their friendship I guess.


Favorite headcanon
Chubby musical Mac, buff strong movie Mac

Day 3: The Outdoors


“It is something of a unique experience for him.”

“Being outside?” said Undyne. “Well, it’s not exactly day to day for us either.”

“No!” chided Papyrus. “Being happy.”

-

Sans continued to gaze upward, his hands connecting him to Papyrus and Frisk with Toriel at his back and Undyne and Alphys chattering excitedly nearby. He didn’t hear their words. He didn’t have to. All he could see were the stars above.

[The Best of Times, the Worst of Times] by @abadtime


I know it doesn’t follow the text exactly, I’m sorry, I just wanted to draw the view that Sans might have seen on that fateful day, as well as celebrating the arrival of the angst train the Sound of Silence!!! And since in that scene, Sans is genuinely happy, I felt it was a fitting picture to draw for @teffyjeffy‘s Cheer Up the Skeleton week event! I apologise for taking so long on this!

***Note to self: Drawing on the ipad non-stop while listening to music from another app for 3 hours straight drains batteries pretty darn quick…

4

Me: Gee, me, I always complain whenever I draw Toushin Yusuke because of all the manga inconsistencies but I never want to do the simplified anime version. Maybe I should sit down and create one version for myself based on all the different official references available so that I don’t have to keep going back to the manga and flip and curse every time.

Me: Great idea, me!

*several days and many flipped tables later*

Me: WHOSE STUPID IDEA WAS THIS

The arms were the worst part sob sob. I ended up rolling little paper cylinders to draw on lmao (it actually helped a lot)

I always understood they had to drastically simplify the design for animation purposes, but I feel like I understand the character designer tasked with Toushin Yusuke’s stylesheet much better now lmao (*looks at manga* *draws a couple of Vs* *peaces the f*** out*)

I wonder how long it took Togashi to come up with the original concept, and how many iterations they went through before approving the final anime version. I’d love to see how that process went …

I kinda feel like it’s why Raizen only has marks on the side of his face, because Togashi was like hahhaha what was I thinking screw me I’m not doing this again luls

Anyways, stuff is still kinda not aligned, but since I got this far, here it is. This is based on:

  1. Various panels in the manga, which (as anyone who has tried to use it to draw Toushin Yusuke knows) are all different, even shots of the same angle. I arbitrarily pulled what seemed to be most defined or work/look the best. There appear to be three main styles. I’ll call them the “sharp” version (more angular tattoos), the “curvy” version (more curved) and the “WTF” version (the initial appearances that have no semblance of rhyme or reason and appear to be just squiggles everywhere). Within each version there’s a lot of freestyling going on too. My personal preference is the curvy; it makes me think more of fluid ink and brushwork.
  2. The official Yu Yu Hakusho Gashu Togashi artbook, which includes a flat pattern that grabs different parts of the tattoo that appear in the manga. It also takes the sharp and curvy chest designs and uses them as design elements on the table of contents page. So my design attempt on his chest here combines both. (Looking at it now, it’s kinda overkill)
  3. The anime stylesheet as a starting point for the back tattoos - there is no clear shot of it in the manga as his hair almost always obscures it completely or he’s far away and Togashi didn’t bother filling in any details.
  4. Complete and utter BS. His legs are never shown (he’s always wearing jeans, although you can see hints of tattoos through the holes in his pants), and the one bare foot you see does not sport any tattoos. I made stuff up for these.

Again, THIS IS NOT IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM A REAL/ACCURATE REFERENCE. I made stuff up and I’m not a pro who can draw things consistently from different angles. I can’t even draw guy hips okay …

But feel free to reference it if you wish for fanart or cosplays or whatever! And if you do use it, please let me know, I love to see more Yusuke~

“Why do you hate me?” (Ashton)

requested: yes

pairing: reader&Ashton

warnings: swearing and smut

word count: 4,017

summary: For an unknown reason to you, Ashton seems to just hate everything about you. And you could probably say the same thing about him. Until one day when you decide to finally get the truth out of him and then things take a really unexpected turn, leading to some of Ashton’s most well hidden secrets.

if you’ve been following me for a long time, you know i am the worst at summaries lol


Art class has always been one of your favorites. You like painting and drawing, it’s one of your biggest passions. Although, since the beginning of high school, it hasn’t been at the top of your list of favorite things to attend. There is only one person that can actually take away the passion you have for art from you, and that is none other than Ashton Irwin. You two have never liked each other. Thinking about it, you don’t really have a clue why, he just always throws you these dirty looks and rude remarks every time he gets the chance, so to say he doesn’t like you is pretty obvious.

You share only one class together and it so happens that the teacher seated you two next to each other. And lucky you, it’s art class, one of the only ones you actually enjoy attending. But ever since you had to share a seat next to Ashton, all of the fun in art kind of faded away. He never does anything the teacher asks him to, never even touches a pencil or a brush. He is a really weird kid, going against the rules probably thinking he’s cool, but he really isn’t. He is going to fail at something as easy as art, only because he’s being stubborn.

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2

Liefe the Maid(me @jisunshines ), Kai the Samurai( @krazehkai ), Rui the Archer( @cynphonium ) and Lithy the Troubadour( @lithety )~ The cake is strawberry chiffon! I love that Liefe can bake 😂😂😂

I drew Fatesonas that I’ve seen so far to forget the pain. Hope that was okay for @cynphonium and Lithy ;w;)/~ (also I apologize if the colors are different for Rui. I couldn’t find a good reference ;w;)

I love seeing people’s Fatesonas~~~!! This reminds me much of OC communities I’m used to and it’s fun~

Also I’ve been thinking about Liefe’s supports and it’s pretty fun(for me at least), especially with Leo cause they don’t like each other. Basically Leo would be like “You should be fired you’re too lazy” and she would be like “Mrgrgr Lord Leo is a jerk” 😂 I wanna draw this when time allows me!

+My laptop’s still broken so this was done on Galaxy… I miss digital painting…

++Did I intend to draw Kaifu(Kai waifu) the cutest? Maybe……😎

+++Since many kind souls have been worried about my health, I’d like to update on the matter! I went through my final oral surgery today and it’s going better than I thought. Just a few more steps to go through but the worst part is over(I think)!
Thank you so, so much for your support. I was surprised by the caring reaction. I’d been on my own on Tumblr for a long time, so having met wonderful people like you really warms my heart.
You guys have a great day and be happy too~~~!!♥

Masterlist: "Peeta's Paint Box"

Day One

Day Two

Day Three

Day Four

Day Five

Day Six

Day Seven

memory waning

The details are the first to go.

Just a little ficlet about Rose in Pete’s World and the fickle cruelty of human memory.

All ages, 434 words

At first, she forgets tiny details. She barely even realizes that the memories are fading.

It’s the way he would stroke his thumb across hers a certain way when he was flirting and a different way when he was warning her that they were about to run. Which ties he habitually paired with which oxfords and the way he ran his fingers along the sides of a book when he was engrossed in reading.

It’s been six months since Bad Wolf Bay when her first thought upon hearing something funny from a coworker is to tell the Doctor, Rose’s heart drops through her stomach. She should know better by now. But she tucks it away to tell him one day and tries to imagine his face when she tells him.

She panics when she realizes that she can’t remember what his laugh sounds like.

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Hello everyone!

So let me just say… yesterday was one of the worst days I have had in a long time. Basically my college drawing teacher said that I don’t belong in my current drawing class because of my lack of drawing skill (at least for the class’s level) and she basically told me that I have no sense of composition or meaning in my work… Having a teacher tell you that you basically have no chance of making it in the class that you are trying REALLY hard in SUCKS… Especially when art is my LIFE.

SO WITH THAT SAID I’m feeling better today but got home yesterday and took out my sadness and anger with this piece. Corazon and Law really reminded me of how I feel… and I wanted to draw Cora-san protecting Law because I was like Law yesterday, I lost hope there for a while. SO really this piece was super therapeutic, my best friend came over and helped talk me through my issues, and now I’m back to normal. I hope YOU all like my art and I want to send a heartfelt thank you to Eichiro Oda… One Piece has helped me so much in life… Thanks everyone for helping me remember that art is my passion even when someone says I’ll fail.

By the way today’s chapter was amazing and touching with Cora-san and Law… nearly made me cry.

Written in Reverse

The summer was over, the summer in which Mireya Dunn had been abroad on a big research and observation trip. She’d already had one earlier in the year, but hadn’t been able to resist the opportunity of another. As it was, she had made the last minute decision to take on a post-graduate course at Columbia University in New York. She had been so ready to take on the world, but it felt like all the young woman could do now was escape.

It was the nightmares, that was why, the feeling that something was incredibly wrong. Mireya had awoken in her old dorm one day, convinced that the world had ended, and that a monster in a stolen body had suppressed her magical powers via tattoos he had almost carved into her back. She had been Chaos, the Saviour in a world ruled by Hell, and it was a weird dystopian fantasy that the doe-eyed student couldn’t shake.

It was always at the back of her mind, lurking, every step of the story ready to steal her from reality. One of the worst was when she saw him fighting, before a demon impaled her with a knife. The demon who ‘owned’ her, Dante, hadn’t saved her in time from his bitter enemies. It was like a dramatic novel, a sick story that seemed to come out of nowhere. Her drawing skills had improved, at least: she had drawn him in his vessels on notebook pages and all sorts. Sometimes when she saw bronze or black haired men, tall, with or without ink on their arms, Mireya’s heart jolted.

After a long day of sports practice, resuming her favourites of swimming and running, the befuddled human returned to her dorm on one of the building’s higher floors. She slipped off her leather jacket, bright blue sweater dress underneath matched with ankle boots and patterned leggings; a pretty necklace hung around her unmarked neck. Mireya stopped suddenly, sports bag dropping onto the wooden entry floor, and she reached for an iron rod she kept handy on the side, wielding it.

Something was wrong, something was here. And a rising anticipation gave Mireya Dunn an inkling to exactly who it was.

July 11th, 2014 - America Don't You Cry

AUTHOR: whymsical-for-you

July 11th, 2014 -America Don’t You Cry

    England stared at the young nation before him. America hadn’t responded to any calls or messages for the past few days succeeding the World Meeting, and the British nation had started to get worried. So, having still been in DC, he had paid him a visit.

    He had expected America to be sleeping. He had expected video games, movie marathons perhaps, or a spaceship in the yard and a rude grey alien seated in America’s living room. England wouldn’t have been surprised to see takeout containers; Chinese, McDonald’s, or even pizza boxes to be littering the floor.

    He had not expected to find America a curled up, shivering, and sobbing lump under his sheets.

    “…America?” he asked softly.

    The lump shifted and England found himself faced with America’s red, tear-stained eyes. The sight was enough to send his heart stuttering painfully in his chest. Soon enough though, the face vanished and America resumed his previous position- though minus the shivering and sobbing.

    “Go ‘way.” Alfred’s voice croaked from within the mass.

    Shaking his head, England stepped forward and sat down gently on the edge of the bed. “America, tell me what’s wrong?”

    “Leave.”

    “No.” England was stubborn. “Come now, tell me what’s got you in this state.”

    A few more small sobs wrenched their way from beneath the sheets, though it sounded like America was trying to repress them, or at least keep them silent. Whichever it was, it didn’t work. “I…” The rest trailed off into mumbles.

    England lightly tugged on the corner of the sheet, trying to get him to come out. “If you want me to hear you, you’ll have to speak up.”

    The whole lump suddenly rose up as Alfred sat, the covers landing with a soft whump around his hips. The blond nation looked more a mess than England had expected. His hair was a rat’s nest, Nantucket now only one of countless strands sticking up all over the place, and it seemed he hadn’t changed clothing since the meeting. (England wrinkled his nose slightly- that suit had seen its last outing.) His cheeks were puffy and red, and a multitude of tearstains lined his cheeks. There wasn’t any evidence in the room that he’d eaten at all, or even left the bed.

    “America…” England murmured, lifting a hand to America’s cheek.

    The younger nation turned his face away. “I’m failing.” he whispered.

    “…Pardon me?”

    “I’m failing!” America screamed, fresh tears dripping down his face. “It’s all a damn illusion, I’m a horrible nation, I can’t solve anything, I-I’m not…”

    The breath left England in a rush. “Not…?” he uttered quietly.

    “Not a h-hero.”

    It fell into place in the Brit’s mind. The last meeting, things had heated up between America, Russia, China, one or two more of the European countries, and a few from Africa and the Middle East. Combined, they had all ripped into America, criticizing his every move over the past few years and adding some quite hateful insults to boot. England himself had tried to come to his defense, but America didn’t let him, and the British nation had received some glares as he sat down. America had tried to defend himself at first, but after a while of getting insulted he’d…given up, almost. He’d started not responding and withdrawing within himself.

    All in all it had been one of the worst meetings in a long time, and finally it had taken him, Germany, and Switzerland to break it all apart and send everyone home for the day. Some nations had left right away, some had announced they wouldn’t be appearing at any forthcoming meetings in the near future, and the meeting had never re-commenced.

    And there had been silence from America.

    “Oh Alfred…” England said, using the human name to try and comfort him more. He shifted until he was closer to the man and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him close. His fingers carded through America’s hair, simultaneously providing comfort and untangling the knots there. The refrain to a song he’d heard on the radio came to him then, and he sang the words softly.

    “Rise to the top of the world,

    America,

    America, don’t you cry.

    Lift me up.

    Give me strength to press on.

    Rise to the top of the world,

    America,

    America, don’t you cry.

    Lift me up.

    Give me strength to press on.”

    America had fallen silent, and when England finished (he only knew those words anyway) he sniffled a bit. “Why?” he eventually ventured.

    “Felt it was adequate. It’s quite a nice song.” England gently turned America’s face towards himself and used a clean handkerchief to wipe his tears away. “And it’s true. Don’t you cry now, America. The things they said were unprecedented and unfair because you’re trying to make things better, even if your methods sometimes baffle the world and you need a little help.”

    America lowered his gaze, shrugging noncommittally, but a slight jerk from England’s hands brought his eyes up again.

    “You hear me? There is no illusion, America. You’re not a horrible nation either. You’re new, you’re young, you have mistakes to make and life lessons to learn. Just like all of us. Mmm, and even if you aren’t hero to the world… You’re my hero, for sure.” England smiled a bit.

    America snorted. “What, do I lift you up and give you strength to press on?”

    “I’d say yes.” England replied seriously. “You’ve done so much for me in the recent past, and I know you’re an ally that can be depended on.”

    “R-Really?” America perked up the tiniest bit and leaned into England a bit more.

    “Yes.” England’s smile grew as he nodded. “America don’t you cry.” he whispered, then leaned in and pressed a kiss to America’s forehead. “Now, let’s get you up and out of bed, showered, fed, and ready to face the day.”

    America groaned but couldn’t help a small smile from forming on his lips, and he nodded. With England, and his words, he was just about ready to try and face the world again.

artsyfartsyana  asked:

Hello Mr. Mense! I really love your work and your style. You seem to also be extremely humble and hard-working, and I admire that. A quick question: How do you deal with "art blocks" or times when you just feel stuck or lacking in motivation? How do you keep your ideas fresh? Especially as a comic artist, when you have schedules to keep and deadlines to make. Do you have any advice for artists struggling to stay consistent and avoid really bad "dry spells"?

Sometimes everything is easy, evrything comes fast and it’s almost magical, like a transe… but most of the times work is work and you’ve got to struggle to achieve your goal.

And in the worst days, nothing comes, no ideas, no fluidity, it’s like you don’t know how to draw anymore. When that’s the case, I go out and I do something else. There is nothing to do.

There is another case of art block, it’s longer, it seems blurry and you don’t have any motivation to work on your projects. Working on long project can be exhausting, especially in comics. My solution in this case is to find quick pleasure on something else. I need to surprise myself. I usually start an illustration or a character design, totaly free, no story, no pressure, I need to feel the pleasure of free creation, I try some new style etc…Usualy it works and I come back to my project, happy to see my characters and my good old universe.

The best way to avoid art block is to avoid to stay focused on yourself, you’ve got to watch what’s going on everywhere else, what are doing other artists (tumblr is so great for that), see movies etc…

Camping AU Idea

I was talking to my family about going camping this month, and then this Modern AU idea was born. I have a bunch of different thoughts on where this could go! I think this may just be my post-SWAS project. :) Let me know what you think! It needs some tweaking, but I am so excited about this, omg.

I’d write more about this, but I think it’s already a bit long as is. Lmao. I hope this hasn’t been done?


Astrid Hofferson often goes camping with her Uncle Finn. They always hit up different sites for various recreation activities- hiking, rock climbing, swimming, kayaking… Things like that.

Hiccup, on the other hand, would be dragged along camping by his father for some quality father-son time. (Fishing, hunting… Things like that. For old time’s sake.) He’s reluctant… but he loves his dad. He’s willing to go, though he’s iffy about all of those licensed guns that his dad is preparing.

And it just so happens that the two have adjacent campsites.

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Horizons

read on ff.net

Emma sighed as she watched the horizon, with one foot over the edge of the docks, while the other rested on it.

“They just wanted what was best for you,” Killian reminded her. He had been talking to her about her parents, and deep down, she knew he was right. Of course he was. She knew that parents were supposed to do anything for their children if it meant keeping them safe. Because that was how it worked. She had pushed Cruella off a cliff for the same reason.

But it was hard for her to accept for herself. Not having any parents until she was twenty eight made it hard for her to know that her parents loved her enough to protect her and do anything for her, even when she wasn’t born.

Because it was yet another painful reminder of the life she could have had. The life she as torn from in her parents attempt to be selfless. And she loved them for trying to save everyone all the time. But it hurt to know that she never would get to have those precious moments anymore.

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