you ull be the end of me

Must Love Cats- Chapter Five

Levy hadn’t planned on being a pet sitter when she’d moved into the city. She also hadn’t planned on pet sitting for a sex god either, but here she was.

AKA the one where Levy is a pet sitter, Gajeel is her client, and Lily is the glue that binds them together.

Keep reading

So, I’m a Mercy main, because why else would I be on this blog being salty? But this story actually starts with me not playing mercy. It starts in arcade mode. Why?

1. I have over 70 hours on mercy

2. I have lost all faith in humanity.

3. I’m tired of babysitting.

I wanted some clusterfuck runs, some chillin with the enemy team runs, the type of general fuckery that used to happen in quickplay before Blizzard took hero stacking away from us. (yes, i really do miss having three hanzos on a team.) i wanted some nice, casual, fun.

instead i got this asshat.

This Asshat, as he will now be referred to, thought we were in comp or something. He kept bitching over voice chat about how we weren’t playing as a team, and we were going to lose, and he was the best player here and kept taking out the torb turrets.

1. no shit, asshat, we have two widowmakers and symmetra keeps portaling herself off cliffs. thats what were here for.

2. I honest to god do not care about losing. im having fun, dammit. :(

3. the enemy team has two or three torbs. as dva, ive taken out about 5 turrets by now. No, you are not, in fact, the mvp for killing one.

This Asshat’s main complaint, naturally, is our lack of a healer. specifically, our lack of a healer whos pocketing him. Yes, he actually said that. I fired back something about how I am here for one reason and one reason only, which happens to be, yknow, not playing Mercy. 

Asshat starts raging. 

Now Ive gone from being a “useless” teammate to the literal bane of his existence. It’s people like me that manage to singlehandedly throw every lost match in the history of the game and also I’m the leading cause of cancer in the US. There was a lot more swearing and slurs, but you get the idea.

Here’s the kicker.

“ur probably a shit mercy anyway u [r-slur] bitch. u just dont want to heal me bc u know im better than ull ever be [f-slur]”

I fire back some it-seemed-witty-at-the-time comment and end the game with a solid 0-2 loss and a decent card. Ingame, I seem calm, cool, and collected. But I know. I know, and I’m just hoping he doesnt. He won. I’m mad.

The thing about me is that I am unfortunately a very calm person. I say unfortunately, becuase spite works miracles. 

I bascially ragequit, if its considered ragequitting after the game is over and hes already out of my life hopefully forever. No more Ms. Nice Mercy. Ive gotta prove myself now.

Load up quickplay. Pick Mercy before anyone else can even look at the options. Absolutely demand tanks until we have three. Run out to defend the hollywood jackass’s limo with a fire in my heart, a team already scared into submission, and anger tears in my eyes.

This is gonna be great.

1. The other team has a Mercy, too. Not for long. She’s watching out for our tanks, not me and my peashooter.

2. Our Rein is doing a great job of shielding everyone. Put it down, bub, y'all’re gonna get shot and I’m gonna fix it. 

3. The enemy Widow lands a bodyshot. I make reaper flank her so I can fly up there and peashoot/slap her to death.

It goes on like this.

I’m bossy, demanding, and very, very good at it. Someone on the other team gets POTG for a pretty nice ult, we all compliment each other, I thank my team profusely for going along with my useless revenge plot, life goes on.

And that’s the story of the first time I broke 20k healing :)

anonymous asked:

do you have any tips for coloring hair? i think i'm fairly good with everything besides the hair and i don't wanna post anything until i'm really okay with it and i really like your work and think you rock it

yooo askin me for a drawing tip eint the best idea ever u kno..i have no idea what im doin i just put stuff on stuff till im bored of doing that.tbh i dont even like colouring hair that much i just like drawing it. but ok lemme think bout it..hmm ok i dont have a tablet rn but i have my fingers n paint. ill just check how hair looks in my draws so i know what ur talkin bout….




ok lets say this is the model of my hair anatomy,idk why the lineart line goes over the line but dont mind it

again,im drawing with my middle finger so dont blame me if u cant read whats written there lol

SO the most important thing in my draws always has been n always will be LINEART,colouring is like the side effect that just helps me to give drawing the mood so im tryna keep it as simple as possible. but i know many of you dont even put lineart over your colouring so this might be useless to you.

after lineart comes MAIN THING. thats the tone that i fill the full hair shape in. so it’s just the medium colour,the colour that’s uhh….truest to the hair colour. hope that isnt too confusing

after the MAIN THING comes LIGHT THING. so turns out i tend to be super overdramatic with it,but the light thing helps u to show the shape of the head. like drawing just a streight line wouldnt make much sense cuz head is round n hair has volume n every bang has like its own character so better make it wave-y maybe..but then again it depends on your style. oh yeah n i actually dont follow this thing always but light thing shouldnt be white if ur into detail. tbh nothing on human body should be white. even eyes are yellow-pinkish so the only white stuff that makes sense is the bright light spots on wet things n maybe some exta shiny hairs cuz u like em like that…uhh wait im getting off track here

ok n the last thing is the DARK STUFF. this is simply the shadowy part of the hair and tbh it depends on u where u think it would look best,it just makes the shape look more realistic n gives more volume to the head? so usually id draw it under the LIGHT THING or on the top of the head where r the roots and on the ends of the hair. 

(uhm…now that i look at everything i wrote i think this stuff is bit useless cuz its like obvious but yeah…hair. if im totally honest with u rn,then the best way is just to experiment. this depends on your style. check your hair in the mirror and move your head so you see how light usually falls on it. go trough brushes(if ur working digitally ofc) n click on settings,u might find cool ways how to easily give hair a natural texture. or you can do the opposite n just fill the whole thing in one colour n give it one light spot in the middle haha. basically the best tip i always end up giving is just try out everything untill something clicks with you,i dont draw 100% realistically so for me this is a question of tastes,good luck dude im sure ull nail it)

imanormalpeep  asked:

I believe in you you can create your own style and lemme speak some words.I AM TIRED IF SEEING PEOPLE WHO WANT O GIVE UP IN ART!!!!I HAVE DOBE THAT AND TUMR SAVED ME SO PKZ DONT GIVE UP!!!ok thx for letting ne say some words 😊 Ull develop Ur own style!!

I tried to develop my art style a lot of times but i end up making it different
Because i’m not even able to draw the same thing twice…



Ja declinava el vespre que tu deus haver oblidat,
caminàvem rumb a casa, el sol s’amagava entre terrats.
La teva veu sonava lluny com el xiulet de trens perduts, 
com la remor d’un riu nascut en cims nevats, muntanya amunt.
I aquella idea il·legal m’anava inundant el cap;
m’hauràs de disculpar, amor meu, que vaig pensar deixar-te un dia, abandonar-te a la teva sort.
Només esperava, en silenci, que es presentés el moment de fer-ho volar tot pels aires fent veure que era un accident.
Diria unes paraules greus mirant a l’infinit, 
les sentia dins la boca tenses, preparades per sortir.
Venien frases solemnes que ens matarien com a un poltre coix,
venia arrossegar el cos mort del nostre amor fins a un racó discret 
per amagar-lo entre les flors.
Oh savis que aneu predicant pels carrers 
que l'amor es transforma amb els anys.
Veniu urgentment a explicar-nos si es transforma tant, 
si es transforma tant, 
si es transforma tant, 
si es transforma tant! 
Ja s’intuïa a l’horitzó la costa verge d’un nou món,
ja em desplaçava més lleuger, alliberat del pes del teu amor.
Ja se sentia algú rient, l’escalfor d’una altra gent,
un altre cos, una altra veu capaç de fer-me més content.
Ja m’allunyava caminant mirant els ulls als vianants.
Sabeu el meu futur? Avui li he disparat amb munició de plata 
apuntant directe al cor.
En aturar-nos per creuar vas agafar-me la mà. 
Vaig tornar una bola rasa a un nen que jugava en un portal.
No ho expliquis a ta mare, que m’escopirà el proper Nadal.


The evening that you’ve probably forgotten was coming to an end,
we were walking home, the sun was hiding behind roofs.
Your voice sounded far away like the whistle of lost trains,
like the murmur of a river born in snow-capped summits, up in the mountains.
And that illegal idea was flooding my mind;
You’ll have to excuse me, my love, I considered leaving you that day, 
abandoning you to your fate.
I was only waiting, in silence, for the right moment to come 
and blow everything up pretending that it was an accident.
I would say some deep words looking up at infinity,
I felt them tense inside my mouth, ready to come out.
Solemn words were coming to kill us like a lame foal,
the dragging of our love’s corpse to a quiet spot to hide it between flowers was coming, too.
Oh wise men who preach in the street
how love changes with years.
Come to us urgently and explain if it changes that much,
if it changes that much,
if it changes that much, 
if it changes that much! 
You could already feel on the horizon the unspoilt coast of a new world,
I was already walking lighter, freed from your love’s weight.
I could already hear someone else’s laugh, other people’s warmth,
another body, another voice capable of making me happier. 
I was already walking away, staring pedestrians in the eyes.
Remember my future? I shot it today with silver bullets aiming straight at the heart.
When we stopped to cross you took my hand.
I passed back the ball to a kid that was playing in a porch.
Don’t tell this to your mother, or she’ll spit at me next Christmas.

English translation: Manel


La noche que probablemente tú ya has olvidado estaba llegando a su fin,
íbamos caminando a casa, el sol se escondía tras las azoteas.
Tu voz sonaba lejana como el silbido de trenes perdidos
como el murmullo de un río nace en las cumbres cubiertas de nieve, en las montañas.
Y esa idea ilegal estaba inundando mi mente;
Vas a tener que disculparme, mi amor, yo que consideré dejarte ese día, abandonarte a tu suerte.
Sólo estaba esperando, en silencio, el momento adecuado para dejarlo volar todo por los aires fingiendo que se trataba de un accidente.
Diría algunas palabras profundas mirando hacia el infinito,
las sentía tensas en mi boca, listas para salir.
Solemnes palabras venían a matarnos como a un potro cojo,
venían, también, a arrastrar el cadáver de nuestro amor a un lugar tranquilo
para ocultarlo entre las flores.
Oh sabios que predicáis en la calle
cómo el amor cambia con los años.
Venid a nosotros con urgencia para explicar si cambia mucho,
si cambia mucho,
si cambia mucho,
si cambia mucho!
Ya podía sentir en el horizonte la costa virgen de un nuevo mundo,
ya estaba caminando más ligero, libre de peso de tu amor.
Ya podía oír la risa de alguien más, el calor de otras personas,
otro cuerpo, otra voz capaz de hacerme más feliz.
Yo ya estaba caminando lejos, mirando a los peatones en los ojos.
¿Conocéis mi futuro? Hoy le disparé con balas de plata
directo al corazón.
Cuando nos detuvimos para cruzar tomaste mi mano.
Pasé un balón a un niño que estaba jugando en un porche.
No le digas esto a tu madre, o ella va a escupirme la próxima Navidad.

Versión española: B. deSannorat


“Deixar-te un dia”. MANEL. Atletes, baixin de l'escenari / Atletas, bajen del escenario / Athletes, get off the stage (2013)