#this isnt the first time i painted digitally but it MAY be the first time ive had a good time with it

[humanmorph]

Lye „Lyke“ Lychen as a sacrifical altar (to Aterika’Kaal) (but he's also kind of the sacrifice)

my @secret-samol gift for @bronanlynch! for the Aterika’Kaal/Lyke prompt of „what if things had gone differently and Aterika'Kaal was still with Lyke“.

notes on this under the readmore!

AU

In this scenario Lyke would succeed in getting the heart of the Motherbeast in Episode 47 and while Alaway would notice & probably still call out to Aterika’Kaal the way he presumably did in canon, Lyke would be there and get to make a compelling case to Aterika’Kaal the likes of „If you stay with me I am going to feed you. I’ve taken care of you until now, I’ll keep doing that“ (argument supported by the fact he’s currently holding the heart of an incredibly powerful dead god). Aterika’kaal agrees and they barely escape through the Sanctum of the Stone Chorus portal. I think it's fun if Lyke then stays there after the hour described in the move is over, maybe knowing he can't convince Pickman & the others that what he's done is actually good, and fine, there's not even anything to worry about he has this totally handled, But yeah he then sets out from whereever in Sangfielle Aterika'Kaals domain is (Austin did say it was an actual place somewhere), and the rest of the Blackwick Group is left to wonder what the hell happened since Lyke just vanished! Alaway has possibly fucked off too after losing the heart. And them getting fired, the Carnival of Moted Light etc. would still happen (and I guess Chine would succeed at what they were doing since Lyke isn’t there?) and who knows if they’d take any action in finding Lyke after that! All that aside though, Lyke basically offers himself to feed on (through blood and/or energy) and to sustain that he keeps consuming(not literally eating) powerful objects/artifacts/resources and possibly eventually living things (I’d imagine he'd still take work as a „please deal with this weird shit for us“ person and when he has to kill a cursed beast or whatnot... might aswell feed Aterika'Kaal?) (What also plays into that decision, and is part of Lyke justifying this to himself, is that without him, Aterika’Kaal would become too powerful. So he aims to function as kind of a conduit & control the power intake so to speak. I think this probably doesn’t work for very long.) I think this eventually goes bad for him because it’s super taxing on his body and the whole deal kind of flips with Aterika’Kaal feeding/keeping HIM alive. He starts finding bodies in the domain again (alternatively, Aterika'Kaal gets better at hiding them because it knows Lyke doesn't particulary like it when it does that). Lyke probably gets stronger due to this power/magic wise, but also way more fragile (he's constantly anemic!). („I love you. I want us both to eat well.“ - Christopher Citro) („When I write of hunger I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and it is all one.“ M.K. Fisher) Notes: I put some resources Lyke’s canonically had in-game + some extra stuff in this picture (the arrow is a reference to Marn’s epilogue, the bugs are bugs (with possibly sinister connotations. If you want them to have those, it’s optional) and the fur is from the Ravening Beast). Another detail I came up with I might aswell tell you because otherwise noone might ever know: the ring with the blue stone is a gift from Es. Sketch Notes: 1. Lyke turning his head to kiss a rose / exposing his neck was one of my very first ideas/sketches I made while working on this, and I liked it too much to not include it. 2. This is supposed to be Aterika'Kaal giving Lyke a blood transfusion but it rather looks like it's feeding on him instead...! I like how the relaxed pose turned out. 3. I wanted to draw something smaller in a simpler style to fill the big canvas I was drawing these on (even though now I put them in separate files anyways...). The day I drew this I saw a tweet about a medieval monks sketchbook, so I was still thinking about that. I didn't even plan to color it originally but I ended up getting invested, haha

Inspired mainly by these 3 quotes: „KEITH: I’m a walking- I am a shrine to Aterika’Kaal.“ (Sangfielle 12: The Secret Ledger of Roseroot Hall Pt. 4) „KEITH: There's a version of dealing with Aterika'Kaal that ends with Lyke being satisfied that he rehabilitated a god or at least it looks […] like what he thinks Aterika'Kaal would have been before the YVEs showed up. That's probably his main retirement path, but it also might kill him instead.” (Sangfielle 47: Wax, Iron, and Ichor Pt. 4) „AUSTIN: As you’re fading, the last thing that you do is make this blood sacrifice to Aterika’Kaal. Your own blood.“ (Sangfielle 52: Six Travelers: Lyke)

#secret samol #sangfielle #friends at the table #fatt #rosa art #lye lychen #aterika'kaal #lyke #guy of all time btw this was such a joy to draw and think about #its so funny to me though because i almost put lyke/aterikakaal on my own prompt list but then for whatever reason didnt #and then i saw it on the spreadsheet (2) & was like 'man i hope someone picks them. i want to see this.' BUT IT WAS ME... IM SOMEONE.... #@ those 2 people (one is eliot bronanlynch. i know this) especially: i hope you enjoy!!!!!! @ everyone else you too ok : ) #the notes were in a pdf originally i didnt think id write so much. #i thought about making it bullet points maybe itd look neater on tumblr but i dont. want to... copy&paste it is... #this isnt the first time i painted digitally but it MAY be the first time ive had a good time with it #i used the twitter circle thing for the first and possibly last (until next secsam) time for this so i could post wips. for motivation #it worked : ) #cool to see my actual progress #fun fact about the quotes i added i spent like. a lot of time to look for a better one than the citro quote #because i straight up just do not like the poem its from. i am ripping it out of its context. but it still sounds nice. i folded eventually #the urge to ramble on the the tags........ i will overcome it now and post this #ARGH i forgot tumblr doesnt take transparency on large files well.... it just turns white #well ive made it dark now on the painting it looks better than white but the original was transparent. know this #im posting this kind of late. relatively. i JUST got back from work

[mothcpu]

answering asks ⬇️

(person who asked about automation I'm putting your answer at the bottom because I wrote too long)

thank you!!! color is one of my favorite things to mess around with, I'm allergic to low saturation at this point

hehe :) I'll get around to posting it at some point but in the meantime heres the full as a treat (the small size isnt compression I just painted it on a canvas for ants)

absolutely, it's one of my favorite pieces of web fiction! been planning to reread it (and 20020) after I finish Crow Cillers [huge tangent about good webcomics/web fiction removed]

TLDR its going good! I mean it's college, I'm tired as hell and my brain is melting but it's going well considering :) here are a shit ton of words that may or may not be useful I might have a better answer for you in a few months; I've got a few weeks until I start my internship, but I can tell you a bit about my college experience and what I've learned from the ass load of interviews I've been doing with companies lately:

YMMV with different colleges but in my experience the first year is mostly electronics classes (analog and digital) as well as an intro to robot and PLC (programmable logic controller) programming and some other things. genuinely the hardest thing you will do is applied algebra. starting summer of the second year I started work on a group capstone project, using a group of robots to assemble prefabricated parts. this involves a fuck ton of preliminary programming and wiring that I won't get into, it's a huge project that applies everything you learn in the first year. that being said it is... pretty fun? or at least rewarding IN SUMMARY, lots of math, lots of wiring, it looks complicated at face value but you get taught everything from the ground up. I'm personally enjoying it a lot, even if it's difficult at times.

bullet list of info about working info, from what I've gathered from company interviews. I primarily interviewed with packaging system companies, for reference

they'll give you a month or two to shadow someone and learn the ropes. once they let you go on your "own", you'll probably be working on wiring up panels (emergency stop systems, etc).

after working for a while, if you're interested in working in another area (such as programming), they'll very likely let you move to that subregion. either way youll probably be working on the same thing for a week or two

travel REALLY depends on the company. some companies you'll work away from home up to 50% (to install machines, etc), but at some you won't travel at all. you can also get a job as a field tech and work away from home even MORE

starting wage is somewhere around 50-60k a year afaik, but that really depends on area, everywhere Ive checked has standard insurance such as health/dental/life

can't think of much else off the top of my head, feel free to lmk if you have any other questions! I wish you luck :salute:

#ask #anonymous #ophiocordyceps #green-t-ea #in this installment: I talk about automation and some other stuff #also I know its about a month old at this point but have you all heard the new Hakita EP yet I'm still thinking about it #ooooh you want to listen to The Enigma of Heaven and Other Daily Delusions on heavenpierceher.bandcamp.com SO bad

[jowoeyclaire]

do u have any tips for digital painting for people who like.... exclusively have experience in only lineart and simple cell shading ? i rly want my art to look like that but it always turns out horrible when i try to paint. i simply don't know how to blend colors i guess

this is going to be kinda long since im not very good at explaining things so i'll just run through my drawing process when im working on a digital painting!

first things first tho, im still learning to get the hang of it myself since im also super used to working with lineart/cell-shading rather than painting. so as time goes on my process will probably change as i learn new things!

first, i start out with a sketch of what i'm gonna be painting. i'll use one of my ocs as an example

when im working with lineart, i usually put the lineart layer over the sketch but when i'm painting, i tend to put the layers i'll be working on underneath the sketch! i do this cuz since i wont really be doing much defined linework, and it makes it a lot easier for me to do the next step which is:

blocking out shapes!

under my sketch layer, i'll block in shapes of color corresponding to my sketch, this works as a guidemap for me and usually each block of color gets a seperate layer to avoid getting frustrated while trying to work on areas where they intersect. (for example, the face, the bangs, and the back of the head are all separate layers to make it easier to avoid blending things i dont want to blend, like the face with the hair)

now here i start to work on each of the separate layers ive made, and i work on blocking in shadows. i usually clip layers together to avoid overlapping any unwanted things

at this point my process isnt super straightforward and i honestly havent exactly figured out what i do here definitively but i usually start working smaller and more focused on specific layers and work my way through the painting usually with one or two brushes. mainly, i use these two brushes, one for blending and making strokes, the other for VERY small details (i use clip studio paint so depending on what program you use and what you want out of your painting, your brushes may vary)

at this point im SUPER unsure on how i actually do what i do but i DEFO recommend studying other peep's art and using references to get things like hair and clothing textures. you'd be surprised on how some super complex-looking pieces tend to use less blending then you would think!

a tip when it comes to blending: i know it's super tempting to blend everything but from messing around with this style for a bit i can say that sometimes less is more! while blending is fun, it can sometimes lead to the colors or certain parts of the piece feel 'overblended' in which it might lose it's defined shape. although this is something that you'll learn to work through as you learn new ways to approach it!

now here is my final stage in where i might spruce things up a bit using layers to alter the colors and make things look a bit more unified and cohesive! honestly my fav step since i try out different layers that might bring out certain characteristics in my art!

also before i end this i wanna say that this is only the process i use and that you might use a completely different approach to it but if you find anything here that might be helpful, don’t be afraid to try it out and experiment!

and honestly… i think that's it? i tried my best to go through my process and hopefully people can see and try out what might work for them! idk if any of my points came across that well since im not very good at explaining but YEAH SORRY THIS GOT LONG OOPS

#ask! #WOW THIS IS LONG SORRY ABOUT THAT #hopefully yall find this helpful! #myart

[nyancarxwx]

My friends stunning art work of a character they gave me

The art I did of this amazing bean

I used notebook paper,paint marker,pens,and paper with patterns on it.

✨Trixxy art advice ✨

I recommend pilot G2 pens they last a really long time ,up to a few years for me.

I also recommend microns for pens for lining if the inkpens feel is not your thing,I will say they don't last as long for me at least.

I used pigma brush pens for the coloring on the character, and a paint pen for the outline.

Paint pens are fun

I honestly normally use ohuhu makers or artist loft brush pens for coloring because they look smoother,over pigma brush pens.

For white gel pens I normally use uniball singno I recommend buying them online because In stores they may have been on the shelf for a while.

Also if your struggling with the marker you use not going on a more plastic surface any metallic marker work wonders, I recommend inklab but honestly I haven't gotten a bad metalic marker.

Paint pens also work but they are a more watery,and smudge.

I also will say using a artist glove they sell for digital art works wonders with not smugging your graphite

Glitter gel pens are so much fun but some brands don't last as long mine don't have the brand on the side of them or I would put them,I used one on this piece to add that ✨ sparkle ✨.

Also I will recommend buying a small amount of art supplies slowly and keeping with brands you prefer.

It's good to experiment but if you don't have the money for it don't,or buy cheap or on sale supplys you want to try out or use regularly.

Also no matter what medium you use you can get good, without spending a lot. Talent isn't in the art supplies alone it comes with practice.

If you hate using markers don't use them

If you hate using paint don't use it.

Find the things you like to use and use them.

For all my digital art I use ibis paint which is a free app and personally I love it.

If your struggling with digital art get a thin stilus that isnt Bluetooth just like that plasty stuff if you don't have much money they work wonders.

I use a iPad with apple pencil but that's only because I got one at college and bought it with my meal plan money when I quit.

College isn't for everyone and if you quit it's ok just try to find what way to make money that is fun for you.

Personally I'm going to sell art online and at cons.

I also have my commissions open.

Remember wait and just because people dont commission you at first doesn't mean your a bad artist.

Keep going. Keep posting. Keep doing art.

If that's what you enjoy doing do it.

Post on multiple sites.

Try your best.

Stream if you like streaming.

Just keep going you got this I believe in you.

If you guys need anything, advice some one to talk to you can msg me on here. I'll try my best to give advice.

Don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it.

Art programs and art is confusing and asking people questions is ok.

That was really long but I hope it helps someone.

#art #myart #oc #my oc art #furry #advice #traditional art #art advice #helping #my asks are open #take your time #self care #arttips #hope this helps #artists on tumblr #ocfromafriend #love my friends #trying my best #heheheheh #artisthours #atmyauntshouse #just vibin #hehehehehe #dragon #dragon art

[fruitsvillage]

Could we please get a tutorial on how you did your latest lookbook? Ily 💌💌

ok this is gonna be a long post so under the cut is a general tutorial, i cant go step by step exactly as i did it since i didn’t save the editing file, but here’s at least my basic process i always start out with, plus how to do the silhouette effect i used in the last example!! also i’m not sure about your experience level re: image editing or digital art so i’m going to try and explain it in a way that hopefully anyone can understand but please feel free to come to me with more questions!! Also my screen res is very wide but I wanted to be able to show off where all the menus are, so clicking on the images for full view may be necessary for you.

OK so step 0 is gathering materials- you will need a photo that you want to edit plus an image editing program. You can easily get photo’s from your switch with the switch’s built in image sharing mode, either by posting them to facebook or twittter, and then saving them to your computer from there. Or if you have a computer that can read a microsd card or you have a microsd card reader you can plug into your machine, you can transfer images that way. The only other thing we need is an image editing software. I will be showing you my process by using Clip Studio Paint but you don’t need to use this specific program. I personally recommend using a program that allows for transparency even if the end result isnt transparent because it’s easier to move layers and elements around but that being said you COULD edit images with a program as simple as microsoft paint. There are free more advanced softwares out there like krita, gimp, fire alpaca, etc.

Step 1) While this step isnt necessary, I personally run my images through a filter to reduce the JPEG noise, to smooth out edges and to make the image clearer. You can also use websites or apps that do this for you like waifu2x or yome2x if you want.

Step 2) Isolate your subject from the image’s background. You can either choose to just erase away directly on the image layer or you can use selection tools to choose the parts of the image you are going to separate first. I prefer the selection method because then I can use a masking layer which I’ll get into in the next step. You’ll want to erase or select out everything except for your character (or other photo elements you want included in there too like if you decorate a bit). There are many different ways you can use the selection tools depending on if you want to opt for speed or for the cleanest possible edges. I usually use the magic wand tool to get  a good chunk of my selection and then go in with the selection brush for precision.

Step 2.5) If you have opted to select out your desired subject then the next step is to create a masking layer. The easiest way to do this is to finish your selection and then to hit the Quick Mask button circled in yellow, it is represented in my version of CSP as a rectangle with a dark circle inside. This will automatically create a mask including everything except your selection, making those unselected elements completely transparent. The mask if shown to the immediate right of the affected layer. The black bits are what is hidden and the white is what is shown. You can edit the mask using the brush and eraser tools- the brush will expose hidden bits of the layer and the eraser will hide. You can also create a layer mask by opening the Layer menu at the top of the window > Layer Mask> Create from Selection.  This is how it works in CSP, other softwares may not make use of the eraser tool but instead only the brush tool will be needed to edit a mask. I encourage you to search the web (google, duckduckgo, etc) “masking layer + (your drawing program)” for specifics on your particular program.

Step 4) Now comes the silhouette effect specifically from my lookbook post. Duplicate the character layer. This will create an identical layer for us to edit.

Step 5) Create a new empty layer and make sure it is on Top of yhe layer we just duplicated in the above step. Then create a Clipping Layer using the empty layer. Clipping layers will chain to the layer immediately below, and allow you to create effects that only affect the layer it is attached to. You may chain multiple clipping layers to a single layer in order to layer almost infinite effects.

Step 6) Using the fill/Paint Bucket tool, fill the empty clipping layer with your preferred color. Notice how the layer is technically completely filled with yellow, but it only shows up in the actual image as the shape of the layer the clipping layer is attached to!

Step 7) Reorder your layers so the original layer we started with is displayed on top.

Step 8) Use the move tool to drag either the copied layer or the original layer around to a position of your liking. You can then repeat this process as many times as you want, using whatever colors or gradients or brushes or textures  you like.

Step 9) Draw or import textures or clip art* or literally whatever to decorate your image how you like. Elements from this piece include a heart shaped brush that came with CSP for free, a polka dot screen tone brush I downloaded for free from the CSP shared asset website, and hand drawn elements and lettering done by me! *When using materials you find on the internet for your edit work please, please make sure you have permission to use it. Don’t take art from people’s art blogs and turn them into stickers or whatever unless u have permission. If you dont want to draw it out yourself i recommend searching the web for royalty free clip art or textures. Hopefully this tutorial was what you were looking for! If not you can always ask me more questions and if it’s helpful or interesting for anyone out there the next time I make a lookbook edit I can record that as a video so you can see my step by step process as I actually create the image,

#long post #chatter #anon #acnh lookbook #tutorial #Anonymous

[katsukikitten]

Princess prt 4

You lie awake, waiting on baited breath to hear his own slow. Still you are unsure. He may be hot tempered but he is the master at even breathing, even when he was sprinting full speed with your weight, cradled in those strong arms. People, guards you assume, walk near the tent in unpredictable rounds interfering with the moisture radius you've set alarming you to a possible threat.

Eventually exaustion pulls you under so hard and so fast that you cannot keep up with your normal radius.

Something pulls at the water in the air, calling it forth and instantly you react.

Contorting yourself, half turned at the waist, to aim your dominate hand at the threat. Holding a large bald man who is covered in tattoos by his blood.

Steaming water stays stooped in time, forever cascading into a mostly empty tub. Your breathing becomes ragged, he had generated so much water, had gotten much too close.

He could have killed you if he wished. You squeeze your hold on him and his eyes bulge just a bit. He cannot fight back like Father did.

As you watch his face twist in horror you feel something sing deep into your bones before you smell the heavy tang of blood, so much of it you can taste it in your mouth as if misted in the air.

The power calls to you to do it, you've done it countless times.

What's one more?

"*Princess*." A husky growl, and a tight grip on your hip, "I would appreciate if you didn't kill my favorite bath filler. He is one of the few in his family who can call upon it so hot."

You turn to face the King slowly, when you meet his eyes you begin to feel more than just the man's frantic heart beat and rushing blood.

More than the dark call of your power.

Starting with the heated touch of his skin to yours followed by the searing pain of your left cheek. Some how in the middle of the night you flipped onto your left, smothering your wound. You throw your hold with a flick of the wrist and the sound of water filling a tub returns almost drowned out by a man gasping for breath.

Birds sing, thankful for another morning. You clench your jaw and slowly exhale through your nose. The smell of spice already begins to fill the yurt.

Scarlet eyes look over the other figure in the room before holding onto yours.

You offer him nothing but a heated, overly alert gaze as the rest of the world moves on. He stands and you wrap yourself in the cool white sheets to sit as the man bows to the ash blonde.

"Thank you Mizu." Katsuki dismisses but before Mizu leaves you pipe up.

"There is only one tub?" Venom drips over every syllable as you feel you know the answer.

"Ah how could I forget about you Princess," He leans over and passes a small bucket to Mizu, "Fill this one for the lady."

"That will not be enough!"

"I've got rags. You can sponge yourself. What with your leg wound you cant submerge it." He hisses as he gets into the over sized tub letting out the smallest of sighs as he plunges himself shoulder deep.

The water is hot enough that you see sweat already forming on his brow.

Mizu fills the small bucket and gives the smallest bow before leaving. You stand and snatch the bucket up. It is more a size for washing ones face than their whole body.

Plus you *need* to submerge it to heal it.

You step into the tub and his face becomes that much more heated.

Red with anger, blush.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" He lashes but you still sit across from him.

You have more than enough room to keep your knees slightly extended that your feet are between his outstretched ones. Should you wish you could fully extend your legs and your feet would only reach his knees. The water comes up to your collar bone when you slouch.

"No one shares bath water with the King. Not even his queen." A growl so dark, had he not been engulfed in water explosions would have skittered across his skin in warning. You glare into his intense crimson eyes.

"Then it is a good thing that I have no King." You growl, feathers ruffled so early in the morning that only being enveloped in your weapon would make you feel better. You ignore his lingering glare as you begin to work your calf wound first, by the time the bath is over it should be nothing but a scar. But your face....

Well your face will be different story.

You attempt to collect water from the smaller bucket and splash it onto your face.

Your wound feels as if it coils away and you cannot help but wince. Your face contorts, worsening the second heart beat that is your cheek.

All the while scarlet eyes rover over the stitches that feel as if they are pulling your skin apart instead of together.

He watches many failed attempts before he grabs onto your wrist, with a steel grip.

"You'll never get it clean that way dumbass." He snarls, reaching for a white rag, he dips it into your little bucket of water making a come here motion with the rag.

You look at him with such malice that he snorts, eyes shifting away before coming back full force.

"Never had a face injury I see. They are more delicate than most wounds huh?" It is then do you look at him with sharp enough eyes to see the ever so faint scars upon his own face and even throat.

Faded with time, age and possibly proper treatment.

"Know that we are in my element." You growl before adjusting yourself to sit on your knees between his, you hold his once more to deliver a final threat, "Know at any second I could strip you of your sweat and drown you with it."

He gives a cruel smile in response before you close your eyes. He is gentle, much more gentle than the one they called Momo last night. Your eyes flutter as he wipes away the old ointment and some dried blood and you sink your nails into your thighs to avoid biting your swollen lip. He is even more gentle with your bottom lip as you feel a single digit follow over the curvature of it. Somehow you relax into his touch, time stretches and only the sound of sloshing water can be heard.

Before your eyes snap open to feel a fast approaching figure, they stay focused over the shoulder of the King who seems to watch your tension.

A ruby red head barges into the tent, sounding exasperated as he speaks.

"Your majesty I respect your decision but what the fuck?"

Then garnet eyes widen, cheeks slightly flushed as he bows.

"Princess. I beg your pardon." He gives his back to you both, "So she *is* your queen then."

"She isnt my Queen!" "I'm no one's Queen!"

We both yell with such fury but all that Prince Kirishima does is laugh.

"What is he doing here? In the badlands and not in the mountains."

A smile laced with mischief captured his almost kissable lips.

"He is my general." Katsuki says, placing the rag onto the side of the tub to dry.

"How could he be? He is a prince of his own lands."

"I started as a poor boy traveling the bad lands. I grew up with King Bakugou. He took me under his wing, taught me to best utilize my quirk. The mountain people, just like the badlandians do not go by lineage. They go by power, if you defeat the former King then you've earned the title. I'm repaying my debt by being his general as well. " Kirishima speaks and your eyes narrow.

Does this mean he murdered his own father?

"Did you not say you were a Prince at my auction?" You watch as Katsuki dunks his head under for just a second.

He is too trusting.

When he comes back up he runs his hands through his wet hair and some of it clings to his forehead, it's odd not to see it in it's usually spiked mess.

Your heart races.

"All titles are trivial when it comes to the High King aren't they?" Kiri asks peeking over his shoulder to see more of your exposed sunkissed skin. Only to get a cold glare from the king himself as he steps from the bath, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"Give me a moment and we can speak privately, General. As for you Princess I'll put ointment on your wound when you're done soaking." He sets down two fine bottles of creamy white liquid. Shampoo and conditioner you guess.

"You may speak in my audience. You'll need it considering you're now at war with the High King." With Bakugo out of the water you stretch to your hearts content. Practically moaning at the heat of the water.

Bakugo growls, turning to say something to you only half dressed.

"She's right. We are most likely at war." Eijirou inturpts and you smile satisfactory at him.

Eijirou sits in one of the two blood red chairs, the one that faces you in the tub, ruby eyes glitter as they stare at you. You've adjusted yourself to a better view for Eijirou to admire without realizing it. You sit straight now so you can focus and hear but that leaves the top of your breasts exposed to air.

Exposed to a hungry man with a toothy smile.

That is before a stern looking Bakugo looms over him.

Eiji stands to sit in the chair that gives you his back as Bakugou takes his seat with you in his sights. He stares coolly at your relaxed face as you lean your head back for a moment. Displaying your throat for him, he swallows the thought of his teeth nipping at that tender skin.

He looks to his general, forcing himself not to admire your body once more.

"She will be an excellent bargaining chip." Katsuki speaks and you roll your eyes.

"A bargaining chip that made the High King bow on his *knees* in front of thousands upon thousands of people and four foreign princes." You comment eyes still closed, "Not to mention you whisked this bargaining chip away before he could commit homicide on his own daughter in front of the crowd. That alone would have worked towards your advantage better than letting me live. Many would have questioned his sanity. His stability to rule. Instead you supported my declaration for war."

You slowly open your eyes to stare up at the ceiling of the tent, you realize now that the black canvas above is painted with flecks of silver and gold stars. You curse yourself for losing your observing touch all from wounding yourself.

Especially damning considering what is to come.

"She has a point." Kiri speaks up. Burning red eyes flick away from you and pierce into his general.

"How long do you think it will take your father to rebuild his ships?" Kiri looks over his shoulder and you shrug.

"Doesn't matter. I think this time he will wait for us to come to him but I won't know for sure until he sends a scout." You subconsciously swirl the water into the air with your fingers as you think, "If its Ares then war is coming to us and it's coming hard, if he sends any other brother then he's planning on waiting it out."

"That's right if King Toben sent you or Ares then it meant he wasn't playing around." Kiri comments, eyes still trailing in your direction.

You are surprised that the Prince of the Mountains would know that. It is not common knowledge and none have lived long enough to tell. Ares and yourself were on strick orders to kill on sight until Father arrived. You go to comment before you are rudely interrupted.

"Either way I will get what I want." Katsuki hisses, "General another time. Princess you've soaked long enough."

You glare with such intensity that any other man would quiver. But never the Barbadian King. You stand despite the general still being present and Bakugou gives you such a look that plants would whither beneath his heated gaze.

Kirishima silently enjoys the show, the curvature of your hips, your broad strong shoulders and your soft supple looking tits. He salivates at the thought of tasting you, that is until he sees his King turn to face him.

Kirishima bows, before exiting, "Another day my King."

He does not understand the King's hostility if he is so agaisnt keeping you.

"I see you have no shame." Katsuki passes you a fine towel. One that is neither too rough or soft. You take it greedily and begin drying yourself off, you start with your face, and the kind fabric pulls harshly on the rough stitch on your lip. You let out the smallest whimper trying hard to keep your eyes from tearing. An angry sigh fills the remaining silence of the tent.

"Gentle dumbass." He growls, tenderly disentangling the fabric, "You'll pull the stitch. That is unless you want Momo to have to start over again."

You shake your head as he pops the top of a small jar filled with a thick translucent gel. You hold still as swift fingers work over the stitches so softly that you barely feel them on your cheek.

You watch his blood red eyes as he works. They are hard, focused before they linger on your lips, something in them changes. He slowly drags his finger over your lip, it moves to the pad of his middle finger before he let's it go. You feel heat on your cheeks for no damn good reason. You turn away quickly.

"Thank you." You says harshly, "but next time I will apply it myself. My clothes?"

You hear him slam the jar down, before he produces the black outfit with the white fur.

"No way in hell." You snarl in his mother tongue. He chuckles.

"It's that or your towel Princess." He replies smoothly, his accent having almost a low drawl in his first language, "How did you learn? I've been dying to know since your argument with the old man."

"I must know all the languages of the kingdom, other wise how will I ever know when they conspire agaisnt me." You snatch the clothes from his capable hands before throwing the towel on the floor.

Still you hesitate. If you put this on will they think you his queen? Won't you be back at square one?

You smirk to yourself as you pull yourself into the tight but comfortable pants and the low cut vest adorned with contrasting white fur.

The King's slight blush confirms what you already know, that you look fucking killer.

No, with this outfit you will not be his queen. You will be the High Queen even if it's the last thing you do.

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader

[nureyevapologist]

Hiyaaa, if you want an aftg prom still, pls consider: Neil coming home to his and andrew's apartment with one of his newest recruits, and they boy is beaten and battered and neil's first instict was to take care of him because no one ever took care of neil, and andrew's reaction to this! ❤

thanks for this!! i might have veered from the specifics a little and this is like, 70% a character study of neil and 30% Andreil Content but i hope this is okay!!

Neil Josten felt that he owed a lot to the idea of coincidences.

Coincidence was Neil taking an uncalculated risk on the Millport Dingoes the very same year that Riko Moriyama finally snapped and took the bones in Kevin Day’s hand with him. Coincidence was falling into the same orbit as the man who had watched Neil’s father slice a man like lunchmeat and coincidence was him being so single-mindedly focused on Exy that he didn’t notice Neil’s terrible dye job or the white ring around his contact lenses. Coincidence was Andrew Minyard being the single-most observant person Neil has ever met, and coincidence was Neil being forced into his field of vision.

Coincidence was also Neil here and now, stopping off at a convenience store to grab a packet of cigarettes and accidentally witnessing his potential new recruit fall victim to a heavy, parental hand. 

It had only taken one video on a grainy, digital camera to show Neil that this kid had the raw potential to be one of the greatest backliners Palmetto State would ever see. Not fifteen minutes into the footage had Neil shoved aside his other folders and said to Wymack, one thumb jutted at the screen, we have to have him. Wymack had shrugged, assented with a nonchalant you’re the captain, captain and the very next week saw the two of them riding out to Georgia in Neil’s shiny new Lexus.

(“Having a Pro Athlete for a boyfriend sure does have its perks, huh kiddo?” had almost gotten Wymack elbowed bodily out of a moving vehicle.

“Above your paygrade” in a smooth, Andrew-esque tone had Coach laughing for the next ten minutes of the drive, safe and unmoving in the passenger seat.)

So they had approached the boy, Josh, after hanging back in the shadows to watch his high school team completely demolish their opponents. Wymack had loitered, no doubt trying to catch the name of the opposition’s only saving grace, a furious offensive dealer, and Neil had attempted to look cool and friendly as opposed to cold and menacing.

Naturally, the kid told Neil to fuck off four times before Neil backed him into a corner and told him to stop squandering his future by being unnecessarily abrasive. There was something in the complicated ice of this boy’s eyes that Neil connected with, an innate fear that ducked for cover behind aggression and hunched shoulders. One minute he stood every inch his five feet and ten inches and the next, body folded in on itself like he was willing it to disappear, he looked to stand no taller than Neil himself.

“I don’t know what your deal is,” Neil had said, arms tucked across his chest with all of his patchwork scars on show, “but I come from Palmetto State. I’m not here to judge, or pry, or fix. I don’t give a shit about your tragic backstory, I give a shit about the way you single-handedly held up your team’s defense line and I give a shit about putting you on an NCAA Class I Exy team. If you can get over yourself for five minutes, I suggest you sign first and cry later”

Every fibre in this kid’s body twitched like he wanted to run and Neil was hit, not for the first time, with jarring memory of himself in this position, shadows of a dark locker room curling in around his ankles, Wymack promising a future he’d never stayed still long enough to know he wanted. Sentiment was lost on Neil, most of the time. Still, if his family of Foxes had taught him anything, it was that sometimes you had to save people despite them not wanting to be saved. At this point, that may as well be the Palmetto State Motto. Neil had given the kid a few hours to think on it. Go home, talk to whoever you need to talk to, think about it. Just remember that we did not drive out here for a no.

Wymack had, of course, grumbled about having to spend a few hours sweating my damn ass off in the pleasure of your company but had mellowed somewhat when Neil had taken him for a suitably greasy dinner and showed him how to use his new phone to FaceTime Dan. He had allowed himself a few moments to enjoy the scene; Wymack, his face far too close to the screen, cursing Dan out for not texting him all week because saying I miss you is too overrated. Dan, a pixelated blur of joy and exuberance, showing her father every single corner of her new apartment and zooming in on one Matt Boyd, tangled helplessly in the middle of an Ikea side table.

With Wymack occupied, Neil had called Andrew, who answered on the very last ring because he was a certified asshole at the best of times. “Am I to assume you will be elsewhere when I get to the dorms?”

Andrew always makes him feel so known. “I managed to pick another stubborn one”

“Yes,” Andrew says, his voice a slow rumble over the familiar, quiet growl of the Maserati, “because you were so quick to acquiesce”

“I might have been running to grab a pen,” Neil replies. Andrew doesn’t laugh, but there’s a puff of air that Neil recognises as amusement, and his own mouth curls. “I think I sold him, though. A few hours and I might finally have secured a backliner”

“You should hope so,” and then there’s a beat of silence and the tell-tale flick of a lighter, “because I refuse to listen to you whine about it all weekend”

“So you admit that you do listen, when I talk?”

“Absolutely not” and when the silence stretches for a beat too long, Neil lifts the phone from his ear and realises Andrew has disconnected the call. Typical Andrew, but now Neil’s fingers twitch to hold a cigarette and he distinctly remembers leaving them behind at the behest of Wymack’s disapproving frown. Beneath his thighs the sticky vinyl booth creaks in protest when he shifts his weight and he waves a round-about hand at Wymack before ducking out of the diner, knowing that Wymack will see him cross the road toward the convenience store and put two and two together.

It says a lot for how far he has allowed himself to sink into safety and familiarity and family that he doesn’t immediately notice the shouting. He’s caught up in realising his ID is somewhere in the glove compartment of his car and wondering if his sharp scars and sharper expression will dissuade the cashier from asking questions. Behind the front counter is a door, all peeling red paint and a half-hearted Staff Only sign, and the slight space between the door and the frame is the source of the noise. Neil has no interest in interfering. Neil has no interest in even listening to some inane disagreement between cashier and colleague, and is considering returning to the diner empty handed when he hears a sharp crack, followed by a sharper, you are never leaving me, Joshua, not ever and the unmistakeable sound of hands pummelling flesh. Something in Neil twitches to intervene but he isn’t stupid enough to walk into a small room with flying fists so, in a bid of panic, he thumps the bell by the cash drawer once, twice, three times.

A man appears from the back, face flushed the red of barely-swallowed anger, eyes a little wild and searching. Neil smiles something icy and the man is stupid enough to misread it. “Sorry ‘bout that, had’ta catch up on some paperwork in the back. What can I do ya for?”

There’s a moment where everything slows down and Neil files away details like his life depends on it. Blood, smeared across the knuckles of one large, meaty hand. A row of scratches, three raised and red, sit tucked against his chunky neck in an indication that someone had raised a hand to defend themselves. A gold ring, thick and faded, shaped to spell out DAD. Neil doesn’t know what makes him say it, but he opens his mouth to ask for a packet of Camel Blue and what comes out is “someone round the back is casing the place, you might want to check that out”

A self-righteous rage takes over the man’s expression, clouding his eyes and the twist of his mouth and he claps Neil on the shoulder as he passes on his way to the door. Men like him, Neil thinks, are far too predictable for their own good. Something like a memory tugs at his subconscious; Neil at age sixteen, dropping a similar line, waiting for the all clear to stuff his pockets full of food and hightail it out of there before anyone noticed. That, Neil thinks, was a far more sensible plan than whatever this was. He rounds the corner of the cashier desk, nudges the back door open with the flat of his hand and comes face to face with the cowering, crumpled body of his newest recruit.

The kid, Josh, is folded in on himself in the far corner of this office, schoolbag tossed a few paces away, face hidden in his hands. At Neil’s entrance he starts so hard Neil almost feels it like a physical thing and then his face does something complicated when he realises it isn’t his father; relief warring with shame warring with anger warring with hope. One of his eyes is beginning to blacken and there’s blood pouring from a cut in his eyebrow – the ring, the fucking ring – and from one side of a crooked nose. His wrist doesn’t look particularly healthy and the way he holds himself tells Neil that this is not a one off occurrence.

“What do you want?” asks Josh, and Neil has no fucking idea. There are scars on his skin from the hands of his father and the hands of his mother and there were long years of his life where he was so accustomed to being beaten within an inch of his life that he never stopped to think that maybe, he didn’t deserve it and maybe, it wasn’t normal and maybe, someone should have helped him. How many teachers saw his black eyes, his split lips, his bruised arms, and how many of them said nothing. How many strangers saw his mother grip his wrist so tightly that it popped, pulling him into a car or a hotel or an alley, how many men saw his father pummel him like a punch bag?

Without thinking about it too much, Neil holds out a hand. “I want to help you. I want you to come with me”

Josh scoffs, gesturing loosely to his face. “This is nothing compared to what he’ll do if he comes in here and I’m gone”

Neil frowns. “Look at me,” and he points to his own scarred face with equally scarred hands, “look at my face and tell me you don’t think I’ve survived worse than your piece of shit father. Come with me, now, and don’t ever come back. Let us help you”

And there it is again, the flurry of anger-fear-shame-hope. “Why?”

“You’re a damn good backliner,” Neil tells him simply, “and if you let that pathetic excuse of a man beat you any harder you won’t be, anymore”

Hesitation twists his features into something ugly. Neil knows that he has minutes, maybe seconds until the man outside realises he’s been set up. If Neil has to pick saving himself over saving this kid, he’ll probably save himself, but Josh drags himself to his feet and looks Neil squarely in the face. “If I do this…he will come looking for me”

“And he will find an entire team of angry, troubled Exy players who know their way around a racquet” Neil replies. “I can protect you, but we have to leave. Right now”

His jaw goes tight but he nods, once. Neil nods back and together they make their way toward the front of the store, Neil pushing ahead, body strung-tight with focus. Outside he nudges Josh ahead of him, watches him adjust his gait around a lopsided limp, reels in his anger for another day.

They reach the Lexus across the street and a voice from behind calls “Joshua, get back here this goddamn instant.”

Three things happen.

Josh, in a bout of incredible bravery, flips his father the middle finger and falls over himself to clamber into the back seat of Neil’s car. The father, in a bout of incredible anger, starts for Neil like he means to snap his head from his body. Wymack, in a bout of incredible exhaustion at the familiarity of a situation such as this, appears at Neil’s right shoulder and swings a right hook up and under the man’s jaw.

It sends the man on his ass and in a split-second shared glance, Neil and Wymack make the mutual decision to get the fuck out of there.

Over the course of their drive back to Palmetto, Neil explains the situation with their new backliner, Wymack assures Josh that he will be resolutely protected, and Josh leaks blood all in the fancy seats of Neil’s car. When it doesn’t seem like it will stop, Neil shucks off his hoodie and throws it at the kid, telling him to hold it fast to the wound – after a brief, whispered argument, Neil pulls over and hands Wymack the keys and throws himself into the backseat to try and assess the damage. The ring hadn’t cut his eyebrow so much as it had gouged out a chunk of skin and his nose and lip are bust but mostly dried up. There’s a patch of blood at his side, seeping through his white t-shirt, and he waves that away as split stitches. From what, Neil doesn’t ask. He tries to staunch the bleeding but succeeds only in covering his own fingers in the blood, and in the end Wymack has to drive them straight to Abby’s house.

“Abby is our team nurse,” Neil explains, while Wymack tries to parallel park a Lexus under a blanket of colourful curses, “she patches up sprained ankles but she also patched up every wound visible on my skin, so you can trust her. I can stay, if you want, or I can leave you in her capable hands while I go back to campus and make preparations for you. There’s a spare bed in one of the freshman dorm rooms, or you can stay with Abby, or you can sleep on my sofa. Whatever you need”

Josh tucks his arms around himself, bravado stripped for the day. Neil assumes it will come back, that things will be difficult, that the kid’s attitude will fling itself all over the place, but for now he’s looking at Neil like Neil just saved his life and Neil thinks he just might have.

“You can go,” Josh says, “I have more shit under here I don’t wanna flash to anyone but a nurse, right now. Uh, I don’t…maybe I can stay on your sofa? For a bit. I don’t…”

“Hey,” Neil interrupts, “you don’t have to explain. Sofa it is. Though, I should tell you, my…my boyfriend is visiting right now, and he isn’t the friendliest person you’ll ever meet-”

“Understatement,” Wymack interrupts, “fucking understatement”

“-but,” and Neil flips off Wymack, “as long as you don’t give him any reason to distrust you, you’ll be safe”

He watches the kid for a minute, waiting for something. Protest, anger, homophobia, acceptance. Instead he shrugs, tired, overwhelmed, and climbs out of the car. Wymack follows him out, with a parting jab about Neil’s use of the term boyfriend, and then Neil is left to drive back to campus alone.

Maybe it should be embarrassing that the sight of the Maserati fills Neil with a fuzzy sort of warmth but this past half-a-year has begrudgingly taught him that distance makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever, and that he should allow himself to recognise that he misses Andrew and likes it when he comes home.

Or maybe Bee had taught him that, but he wasn’t about to admit it to Andrew.

The man in question is leaning up against the hood of his car, sleek and sharp in his black jeans and leather jacket, one booted-foot propped against the license plate, a cigarette between his lips. He’s gotten broader, since Neil last saw him, bulkier in the arms and shoulders and if Andrew is feeling up to it, Neil wants to relearn the shape of him with his fingers, maybe even his mouth.

Andrew doesn’t look up when the Lexus pulls in, feigning a nonchalance the set of his jaw doesn’t quite convey, but he does look up when Neil steps out of the car and his face transitions from smooth to thunder so fast it gives Neil whiplash.

“What happened?”

Neil blinks and Andrew’s hands are on him, fingers tilting his jaw this way and that, skimming down the sides of his body, eyes roaming for injury. Neil belatedly realises that he has Josh’s blood on his hands, a little on his shirt and he curves his own fingers around Andrew’s wrists, meets his eye with a calm stare. “It isn’t mine”

“That,” Andrew says, shoulders settling away from tension, “is not as reassuring as you seem to think it is”

Neil rolls his eyes. “Had some trouble with the new recruit. He’ll be staying with us”

Andrew arches a pale eyebrow, studying the blood on Neil’s fingers with a calculated disinterest. Neil huffs. “His father was beating the shit out of him”

“Where is he now?”

“Abby’s”

Andrew studies him for a long moment. Then, “I thought taking in strays was my thing”

“Well,” and Neil smooths his thumbs down over the fine bones of Andrew’s wrists, “someone had to pick up the slack. I couldn’t leave him there. So many people must have seen my mother backhand me and no one ever stepped in. How could I-”

“Stop it,” Andrew says, and Neil stops. “You cannot take responsibility for every single person in the world. It will never make your mother un-hit you”

Neil flinches, but he knows Andrew is right. Still, “I can help him. I can help this one. I want to”

“Alright”

“Yeah?”

Andrew gives him a look. “What, were you asking my permission? Are we adopting this child together?”

Neil laughs, a new thing, tipping his head back, teeth slipping past his lips. “You don’t think we’d make good parents?”

Andrew steps close enough that one of his boots rests between Neil’s two sneakers, their hands still clasped between them becoming squashed between their chests. “I would be a textbook parent. You would be a nightmare”

“I resent that,” Neil tells him “We’re never having kids”

“Obviously”

“Cats, maybe”

Andrew blinks. “Cats? You’ve thought about cats?”

Neil shrugs, once, but can’t fight the smile spilling back onto his face. “We’re getting cats. You said yourself that you like taking in strays”

“No,” Andrew says, firm. “I do not like it. The last one I took in continues to test my patience, so I will not have another”

“I’ve been testing your patience for four years and you’ve yet to get rid of me” Neil reminds him, “I think you’re getting soft”

“I think I am getting back in my car and leaving you here” Andrew replies, allowing it when Neil’s hands wiggle up between their bodies to frame his face.

“I think you’re going to help me make use of my empty dorm room before a freshman backliner moves in onto my sofa”

Andrew doesn’t respond to this either way but he allows it when Neil stretches to press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth and he allows it when Neil takes him by the fingers and leads him into Fox Tower, and he certainly allows it when Neil peels him out of his leather jacket before the door is even closed behind them.

(Later, when Josh announces his presence with a tentative knock at the door, Andrew answers it. Neil watches them size one another up and then Andrew reaches up into his armband for a knife. “Use this on anyone other than your father,” he says, “and I will use it to remove your hands”

If the expression on his face is anything to go by, Josh has no idea what he’s agreeing to in taking that knife, but he does it anyway. Neil has to hide his smile in the collar of his newly-acquired leather jacket.)

#answered #prompt fills #andreil #fic

[missjackil]

The Kripke Era

Ill first say I do not hate the Kripke era. I prefer post Kripke-post Gamble but I like the first 5 seasons just fine. What I dont like is that many fans seem to have selective memory about what the Kripke era was. They seem to remember just Sam and Dean smiling, cruising around playing classic rock and killing monsters, and then when Kripke left everything got terrible. I might be at an advantage to have come to the party only 3 yrs ago and got it all in one chunk over 2 months time, and watched the story unfold quickly without waiting months and worrying if it was going to be renewed for another season.  What the Kripke era had that I found negative was really bad special effects, which still arent great, but they were worse back then. They didnt even go digital till S3 so there was hardly any color. The boys fought constantly. Sure they had sexy scenes like in Playthings, and did a lot of slamming each other into wallls, but they did fight constantly. Now, since S7, Dean hasnt hit Sam without being under a supernatural influence, Sam wont hit Dean unless Dean us super powered under a supernatural influence. Since S8, neither have considered living life seperate from the other, and Dean was all willing to let Sam jump into the pit in S5, and we know Sam isnt gonna let Dean get thown in the ocean to save the world.  Back then we didnt know if at some point the boys were gonna find a girlfriend and be happy with them, and now we know theyre not, and dont even want them to. There were canon breaks back then too, whatever happened to “Christo” being enough to pick out a demon? Its funny that its finally been re surfaced 13 years later. Or “The only thing that can kill an angel, is another angel” that got retconned as soon as Dean killed Zachariah. Or when people die and come back they come back “wrong” and neither Winchester came back “wrong” after all their deaths.  The earliest seasons painted John as mostly a dick father, but as the story progressed and Sam and Dean talked more about him, he became less of a dick and more like a man who tried his best with what was dropped on his lap.  We have Dean back then so freaked out about Sam’s powers that he tells him “If I didnt know you, Id want to hunt you” and now we have a Dean that kills himself when he thinks Sam is dead, and welcomes an archangel to possess him to save Sam’s life.  Yes we have too many side characters now, but that was at the request of Jared and Jensen so I respect that the show did it for them and didnt just close up shop. Jared and Jensen are 100 times better actors now. They cried way too much in the early seasons that I didnt take any of their tears seriously till Dean cried over Sam in S2. I loved When the Levee Breaks , it was heart breaking, but Jared hadnt bloomed yet into the actor he is now... can you even imagine how painful it would be to watch that episode if it happened now? I would need therapy!! 

There were some very good episodes in the early seaons, and there still are very good episodes, and every season has its embaressingly bad episodes. The Kripke Era may have brough the best story arc of the series... the Michael/Lucifer original, but whether an episode was good or stupid has always been pot luck since the beginning. 

#my meta #supernatural #kripke era

[bloodydamnit]

Hi! I was wondering if it was really necessary to draw in realism if you want to go into illustration ( mostly drawing cartoons). I'm a junior in high school wanting to go to art school and I'm high key freaking out about it.

Hello there lovely!!! absolutely not!!! It isnt needed. HOWEVER. When you apply to college, they want to see a range in your portfolio. That is quite possibly the most helpful advice i could ever fucking give. Now, that can be in varying styles, etc. But I HIGHLY recommend working on pieces done from life. 

Most colleges put you in ‘foundation’ classes. I know some are changing, but for an example, I attended the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) and we had a ‘foundation year’ (freshman). We took Drawing, Painting, Sculptural Forms (wood shop, sculpture, working 3d), EMAC (electronic media. so, photography, photoshop, etc etc), Elements of Visual thinking (where we were encouraged to work in different medias that we may be uncomfortable with), and then academic classes. Different colleges handle this differently and I know at MICA, it’s changed. 

They do this because they want you to be able to have a range. So I went into college for graphic design, but the first year I changed to painting (after HATING painting) and I never fucking went back. 

Wow, i just realized i might be scaring you. DONT BE SCARED LOL!!!!

I just very VERY much suggest working in different medias and tinkering with styles. you’re only a junior so you really don’t have to worry. you have PLENTY of time. But I would add pieces you’ve done from life. I think thats very important. also, keep in mind, working from life does NOT MEAN REALISM!!!! I’ve had professors that DESPISE realism. (i was very much that way. i STILL hate realism LMFAOOOOOOOOO literally a realistic digital artist wowowow tiara). It just simply means using life as reference! you can let your style run wild!!!

with all that said, keep in mind that they want you to have a good base. (if you don’t, youll most likely learn it in college. no worries. but it is very very helpful and will give you a boost when applying). So they want you to understand the basics of drawing from life, etc. They typically do not want to see just one thing.

And I REALLY dont want to harp on anime, or scare you if thats what you lean towards, but i think it is VERY VERY important to say that if anime is what you work in, they want you to have your own style or your own twist. 

ADDITIONALLY, SOME OF THE BEST ILLUSTRATORS I KNOW CANNOT DRAW ‘REALISTICALLY’. THEY CANNOT DO WHAT I DO, JUST AS I CAN NNNEEVVERRRR DO WHAT THEY DO. SOME OF THE BEST ILLUSTRATORS AT MICA ARE LIKE THAT. SO. NO. WORRIES. REALISM DOES NOT EQUATE WORKING FROM LIFE!!!!!!!

Here is an example of my roommate from college Ann Xu’s work. I think its a perfect example of working from life, but having your own style outside of realism.

Shes a fucking queen and out of this fucking world. again you can find her instagram here!!!!!! and her website here!!!!!

I hope this helps! and if you would like any advice with portfolios, etc, you can hit me up on here, or dm me on instagram any time! i’m happy to help!

#Anonymous

[jovaline]

WOAAAAH hold up. You made a mural, and started with LINE ART FIRST!! I did a mural and I started out with the base coats first then detail + shading aND THEN line art. I almost dIED OF STRESS!!! HOW???? May I ask? I'm curious bc I'm doing a mural for my school and I have yet to know how I'm gonna do this, bc in digital art I always start with line art but....THIS ISNT DIGITAL ART I CANT JUST PRESS CTRL + Z. Is it harder? Is there another easier method to do this? Pls explain your magic 🙏🏻

Good question!!! 

So, I made two murals for Redbubble. I’d never done it before and I’m mostly a digital artist, so there was definitely some trial-and-error in figuring out a process that worked for me. 

I did the first mural the same way as you: by doing base coat, shading, and THEN line art, and I totally agree: IT WAS SUPER STRESSFUL. Here’s some process shots of mural #1:

First, I did a digital mockup.

Then, I used a projector to get the sketch on the wall.

The sketch!

The base!

The shading!

Here’s when I started to add line art.

And here’s a closeup when I added some hilights and detail! Mural #1 was a JOURNEY.

So for Mural #2, I wanted to see if there was a way to speed up the process. An employee at Blick Art Materials suggested doing the lineart first with paint marker because the black line would be so deep and opaque, it would still be visible even if you added paint on top.

Doing this was much more intuitive for me.

Even when I added paint on top of this, I could still see the line underneath. In fact, in some portions, adding the paint on top of the black line created, like, shading.

From there, it was easy to use the black paint marker again to bring out the lines that got too covered by paint.

This mural took me MUCH less time than Mural #1, and it felt a lot more natural and fun this way~

And here’s a pic of both murals after I finished them. (I’ll take a better pic later!!)

Good luck!!!!!

#art related questions #art process #process #work in progress #walkthrough #arielle draws #lesbye #arielle talks a lot

[100-becs]

A Suffocated Soul

TW//Transphobia, homophobic and transphobic slurs, mentions of gore, and mentions of sxxcxde

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Who am I?

I’m an 18 year old disgrace to my family who sees her bearded face as an ailment, who's deep voice, a bass, makes me wish words would fail me, a spiraling mess who's fake masculinity trails me. A girl with a liar's face. A girl who's failing. But still I tire, inside me’s a fire with dwindling kindling, running down to the wire. A soul suffocated and strangled whose saving face is a shell of former self, self hatred shooting through her, forever forced to fester in her failings, sequestered into an inescapable quagmire.

And I said nothing when you told me that my body is not my choice

When I’ve found a way, my voice, my song, it brings me euphoria until you come along, lecturing me that how I'm living is wrong, and how being myself would make me not belong. Relentless ridicule of how my hair is too long, that there’s no going back if I alter my bod. That I can’t be a girl, I watch football all day long. It takes me everything not to pack up and say “so long”. Saying it’ll be my fault if someone kills me, it kills me. Of living, I’m not worthy, as I’m too far along a man to be girly. Oh, gosh, I’m getting wordy. I didn’t realize myself early. The downward spiral into nothingness around me is swirling, as I try to clean up my mess you made for me. Can’t you see I’m distressed? I’m worth less than worthless. Holy fuck, give me a rest. If a rest is too much leniency, go ahead and arrest me. It's torture to continue when my own mother detests me

I said nothing when you went on your tirades against who I am

I’m a girl who can’t cry, though I’m red in the eye. Knuckles bloodied with mirror shards surrounding her. In each is a reflection of a monster. A man who did others wrong and strung people along for his own amusement. Seeping out my hand is where everything I had to prove went. I need to vent. I’m fucking spent. I broke when others bent. Off the ledge, my sanity was sent, the life I’ve dreamt was met with dissent, but though inside, 100 times i’ve wept, I still can’t cry. And despite my eyes and thighs being red with this dye, I lie and say i’m fine. You tell me I'm wired, but my wires are fried and my identity you’ve vilified, and deep inside, I want to die. There's not a day that goes by where I dont think "maybe if I just try, I can act like everything's okay as a guy and i wont have to live with being the type of person you told me you loved but really you're ashamed of."

I said nothing when you told me I’m a man

I’m the antithesis of normality. Fuck the formalities. Send me to my grave at the edge of reality, for the way I exist, you tell me it’s confounding. You feed me to wolves who are hungry and growling. I raise my bloodied fists to fight back, but they all overpower me. The turmoil I face is what has the wolves howling. A little girl whose cries will never come out of me. A little girl named Jocelyn. The name that should never be uttered around you. What you call a trend is why my head's always pounding. The struggle I face every day is astounding. And it stacks up and stacks up and it all amounts to me running numbers through my head, 41 percent. I dont care what you meant because it's the message you sent that I am not welcome in this world being who I am, lest I be happy in my body that others may dissent, and that if my vessel meets an untimely end, the fault is on me, not how wrong society went

I said nothing when you told me it would be on me if someone kills me for wearing a dress

"It's just a trend. I thought I was a lesbian when i was a teenager" is the mantra you constantly use to defend your position. The trans people you mention, you say just want attention, and list ways they're not menschen, in hopes that I stop pretending. I'm not pretending! Apprehending my emotions flowing like the tides of the ocean makes me feel atrocious. The pain that shoots through my skin, skin that imprisons my livelihood within, within my self is a soul begging to be let out, out of my mouth shoots "Why can't I just be fucking normal?!" with my deep voice killing me, "methinks the trxnny doth protest too much" is the response I receive, leaves who I am to die in the darkness, darkness forever blotting out the sun. I'm not your son! I'd gladly run from this thing that I was, reach for my heart instead of a gun that threatens to send this whole operation asunder, and become a being worthy of love and of wonder, not for fun or because I've grown dumber, but because I would never willingly take the brunt of the hell that I live through daily to taste the unimportant heaven of a shred of attention. 

I said nothing when you told me I was following trends

You paint me as a terrible liar, but I was able to convince you that I was a man. I played along with my assigned gender roles when you watched over me, clueless of 10 year old me's crying sleepless nights, or 13 year old me's internal fights, how everything was eating away at me like termites. I know my rights and your words aren't right. I constantly escape to digital landscapes because however it infuriates me wont be a scrape against who I am, and will not cripple my mental state. 

I said nothing when you told me to change my preferred name everywhere.

The 19 years i've spent on this earth, what were they worth? From my birth to the present day, I've pissed my entire life away because I allowed my mother to convince me that she knows more about me than I do about me. That there was no overcoming my greatest obstacle because she birthed me. You've stripped my individuality away from me as if I had just given it away to you. You fed me ideas that I thought nothing of because I focused too hard on the fact that the figure that's supposed to be a universal security blanket won't accept me. And those ideas you spoon-fed to me was the waste of self-doubt I couldn't flush out. My bloody knuckles and shattered mirrors are products of your rhetoric. And as I ball my fist up one last time, bawling my eyes out on the inside, ready to smash the final pane, just end the pain as I go insane…

Why cant I do it?…

My reflection smiles back and shows affection. A disheveled, bloody, broken complexion, but oddly beautiful, a captivating introspection. Completely removed from your hateful gobbledygook, I rub my eyes to take a second look. She's smiling, like she can read me like a book. My ethereal self is happy, while I'm sitting here, still shook. A queer, trans, lesbian mess, but purely my mess. none caused by outside distress, a girl who is always her best and strives for nothing less, Jocelyn. October 9th, 2018 was the first time I saw this wonder, and she helped me see the meaning in my night-long internal plights, my shattered psyche from fights, blights I've brought on my body that brought me ungodly dysphoria and triggered upon me out of body memories because the last body I would possibly want for me is that of a man. She makes me look back on my past and revere it. Im smiling ear to ear because I know although I may fear and people may leer, as long as I'm here, I know I'm queer, I'm here, I'm queer, I'm here, I'm her.

I said nothing when you threatened to send me to a psych ward.

Coming to terms with toxicity can be a tumultuous task that tries to turn you against those you think you love. But that isnt the case here. I know you hate me, but love the boy you think I am. And any attempt I make to let Jocelyn make my life any amount more manageable is met with fury, the situation gets blurry, I constantly worry, like im being buried alive. I strive to be able to survive and thrive because you taught me that I shouldn't let anyone get in the way of me living my life. Please take this knife away from my sight as I contemplate this strife. My existence does not make things worsen, I am my own person!

I said nothing when you lied to me about your care for the LGBTQ+ community

The toxicity of your words only runs skin deep. But this toxic testosterone that courses through my every capillary and produced by my bones makes me scream bloody mary. My hearing is plagued with "fxggot", "trxp", and "trxnny", and if I outwardly say "Hi, I'm transgender", the further attacks on me would be many. But their blaring cacophony is nothing comparing to my body changing to be something that pains me. Waking up to being physically male is just a constant reminder of someone I'm not, an unsettling notification of times best forgot, and of a person who's better off being left to rot. I've screamed, I've shouted, I've sulked, and I've fought. Every day in this body is another day lost, never to be found until I end up deceased on the ground, iced over with the frost, or until this testosterone is replaced with estrogen. Estrogen, the chemical that will make me detest my body much less, make me my best self, but without it i don't know how long until im laid to rest.

Beneath me are the eggshells I've broken because you told me to walk on them. You signed and sealed my name in blood as the son you always loved. I am no husband, brother, father, son. I sold my individuality for safety untold, but as i grew older, the world around me grew colder, the pain inside I couldn't shoulder. My response was to be bolder, but at some point I just rolled over wishing everything would be over because the people i expected to fight alongside me shoved a dagger in my back because I dared to be too authentic to conform to who you thought I was, leaving me to die on the battlefield against my own dysphoria, signing and sealing my deadname in blood, Josh. But as my body grows cold as the blood will roll down my gouged armes from the broken mirrors and the dagger you shoved in my back as a hold. I take hold of the dagger and rip it out of my spine, I won't go down this time. Though it wont all be fine I will continue my climb. I'll push on through the muck and the grime. I'll rise to the top to give my eyes a sight to behold. You say I've lost my mind, I've just gained control. No, today will not be the day that I fold, I'll make sure my story will not go untold, I refuse to be melted and put into a mold, and I can do it all if I could just be bold!

I wont stay silent anymore.

Who am I?

I'm Jocelyn

Perfectly imperfect

#trans girl #dysphoria #trans #poetry #bad parents #deadname

[southafricantv]

MEC Gomba didn’t fart on TV and isn’t racist – Eastern Cape health dept

17 May 2020 – Eastern Cape Health MEC Sindiswa Gomba asserting deployment of Cuban medical doctors however that can rely to their areas of experience | Image: Twitter / @healthmec

Kupelo stated the sound of the fart was added to the clip by which the MEC was apologising for fluffing a phrase. The TV crew can attest to this, he stated.

The Eastern Cape division of health has described two viral movies of MEC Sindiswa Gomba, together with one by which she is alleged to have farted on digicam, because the work of “bored and artistic social media gurus”.

Spokesperson Sizwe Kupelo stated the video clips had been proof of an ongoing character assassination of Gomba, as some folks wished her faraway from her place.

In one viral video, filmed on the welcoming ceremony of Cuban health specialists in East London on Sunday, Gomba stated: “Premier, I believed they’d be actually white as they did within the North West province, however I’m certain there was a communication breakdown. My apologies to you.”

Social media customers concluded that Gomba was apologising as a result of a lot of the 20 Cuban medical doctors allotted to the province had been of blended race.

Kupelo defended Gomba, saying she had actually apologised to the premier as a result of the medical doctors weren’t dressed for the event. According to Kupelo, they weren’t sporting white coats. He stated the medical doctors had been later given the coats.

But social media customers wouldn’t hear it and slammed Gomba as an “embarrassment”.

One wrote, “[T]his ward councillor [sic] should simply go.”

Another person agreed: “She continues to embarrass the congress motion and our authorities this comrade to be trustworthy.”

One put up of the video was considered greater than 2,000 instances, attracted near 100 feedback and was shared 75 instances.

Another clip, purportedly exhibiting the MEC breaking wind throughout a TV interview, has additionally been shared extensively.

Kupelo stated the sound of the fart was added to the clip by which the MEC was apologising for fluffing a phrase. The TV crew can attest to this, he stated.

“While we recognize our creatives, we wish to name on them to make use of their particular expertise to not insult or paint folks in a nasty mild. They should use their freedom of expression effectively. The ‘farting’ clips seeks to painting the MEC as somebody with zero manners,” stated Kupelo.

Kupelo stated: “The Eastern Cape Health Department condemns with the contempt it deserves the mischievous and malicious video clip that has been circulating, portraying MEC Sindiswa Gomba as a racist. To then edit the clip to go well with a sure narrative is malicious and is supposed to current MEC as a racist which couldn’t be farther from the reality. Some bored and artistic social media gurus manipulated the video to go well with their misconstrued views.”

The spokesperson stated the MEC was dedicated to a non-racist and non-sexist South Africa.

“Until the premier decides he isn’t proud of the MEC’s efficiency, she is going to proceed working tirelessly within the struggle in opposition to the Covid-19 pandemic. It is unlucky that whereas we’re confronted with this vicious non-discriminatory invisible enemy, we additionally should deal with playful adults who’re hellbent on tarnishing not solely the picture of the MEC, however your complete province of the Eastern Cape.”

This is the second time Gomba has needed to defend herself in lower than a month.

At the top of April, the MEC was heard saying “andidikwe” (that means “I’m fed up”) throughout a digital assembly with Health Minister Zweli Mkhize.

The gaffe led to a number of requires Gomba to resign or be fired.

In the division’s newest assertion, Kupelo known as on the general public to assist struggle and cease the unfold of the virus. In the Eastern Cape, 2,052 folks have been contaminated with Covid-19 and 39 have died. A complete of 839 folks have recovered.

At the welcoming ceremony for the medical doctors, attended by a few of Premier Oscar Mabuyane’s cupboard members, the premier instructed the medical doctors that the federal government’s strategy to the Covid-19 struggle was four-pronged and targeted on:

Containing the virus;

Investing in sustainable options;

Protecting the susceptible and the poor;

Rejuvenating the provincial financial system and securing the long run.

“You arrive in our province of the Eastern Cape at a time when we’ve got 1,812 confirmed circumstances, 746 recoveries and sadly 32 deaths. We are punching again onerous on the virus and our blows are telling,” Mabuyane stated.

“This is the scenario you may be coping with, as you be a part of the tons of of our healthcare staff who’ve been on the forefront of the struggle in opposition to Covid-19.”

For extra information your manner, Orignaly Published on https://citizen.co.za  and 

live at 2020-05-19 18:17:18

The post MEC Gomba didn’t fart on TV and isn’t racist – Eastern Cape health dept appeared first on Channels24.

source https://channels24.co.za/mec-gomba-didnt-fart-on-tv-and-isnt-racist-eastern-cape-health-dept

#channels24.co.za #south africa tv #za tv

[kaliiwashere]

electricians islington n1

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There are various ways by which it's possible to own a home. Those with cash can opt to find houses on discount sales and buy them. Another option is usually to take a home loan and buying your perfect home. Alternatively, you can find lucky and inherit children house; here you'll not need to spend a cent. If neither in the above matches your needs, after that your best bet would be to make your own ideal home. You can buy different brands of the product in every home improvement center. It is even for sale in department stores and a few larger supermarkets. The price for a standard-sized bucket, which holds enough material for around endless weeks of frustration appliances, do range derived from one of dollar to a number exceeding 4 or 5 dollar for a specialised product, such as granite-safe putty. Every home must have a package of this product among its home maintenance supplies in the event a leak appears. Since it's very low-priced and lasts for several years, you are able to store it with your basement, workroom, or underneath the destroy until you need to apply it. Just make sure you continue the container firmly closed after each use and so the clay isn't getting confronted with the air too long. Although it will remain soft and pliable for the number of years, it may islington plumber electrician builder dry up if you leave the package open to get a very long time.

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1. Names and reputations matter. On the one hand, our plumbing client used an original business name people usually remember. On the other, they've developed a track record of being trustworthy and affordable. If you can combine something memorable with a strong feeling of value in the customer's mind, it'll do good stuff for the marketing results. A collapse during demolition is not only dangerous-it may add on the price tag of the project. What if you accidentally demolish something you'd meant to leave standing? What if you scratch up walls and floors removing large items from your building? The more damage you inflict upon your own personal property, the harder money you'll spend fixing everything afterward. A professional demolition contractor, meanwhile, is taught to demolish only what needs to go and protect all of your space in the process. He or she can give you advice on any necessary changes in your plan and look at the structures that remain for soundness, so that you don't rebuild along with a damaged base.

[therealestatesparkblog]

Are You Ready for the Next Big Disruption in Real Estate Investing?

When you hear the word millennial, whats the first thought that pops into your head? Id wager a guess its not savvy real estate investor. Millennials have earned something of a bad rap when it comes to moneyand pretty much everything else, for that matter. But as a millennial and a real estate investor, Ive often found myself wondering, Am I an exception to the rule, or is everyone seriously misguided about my generations priorities? My company, Clever Real Estate, recently conducted a survey of 1,000 Americans who were planning to buy a home in the next year. Approximately 52 percent of respondents were classified as millennials (between the ages of 18 and 34). What we learned was surprisingand ran contrary to prevailing narratives about millennials within the real estate community. Our team compiled a number of key insights from our report, along with emerging data from leading industry analysts, to paint a comprehensive picture of the blossoming millennial real estate investoraka the industrys next major disruption. Heres what you need to know. Related:5 Ways the Real Estate Industry Will Completely Transform Over the Next Decade

The Next Wave of Investors Has Arrived Millennials are about to become Americas largest living generation. And did you knowmy peers and I are already the largest generation in the U.S. workforce?Were earning more than previous generations did at our age and, despite what you may have heard, we might actually be better at saving, too. In fact, a 2018 Bank of America study found that approximately 46percentof millennials have managed to accumulate more than $15,000 in savings, while 16 percent have saved over $100,000. In other words, were a whole lot more adept at managing our money (and debt) than some would have you believe. Related:Millennials Are Poised to Be the Wealthiest Generation Yet: Heres Why As the job market continues to improve, millennials buying power is increasing in kind, and were looking for smart ways to invest our newfound wealth. Americans under the age of 37 already represent the largest share of home buyers, at 36 percent. While most of those buyers are looking for residential properties, we all know that real estate investing is only a small step from therea step that many millennials, specifically, seem very interested in taking. Clevers study found that millennials are a full 52 percent more likely to invest in multifamily properties than Generation Xers or Baby Boomers. In addition, 9 percent of millennials (also called Gen Y) respondents said they were buying properties specifically to generate passive incomemore than Generation X (6 percent) or Baby Boomers (5 percent). Why Real Estate? Millennials came of age during the 2008 housing crash. We began entering the workforce in the middle of the Great Recession. So, its no surprise that a lot of us are suspicious about the stock market, financial institutions, and the economy in general. We prioritize financial stability, autonomy, and ultimately, independence. Despite the stock markets recovery (and then some) over the past decade, Gen Y is increasingly giving it the cold shoulder and gravitating instead toward more tangible asset classes.And whats more tangible than physical property? In Clevers study, 43 percent of respondents ages 34 and under said they were interested in purchasing property because they felt it was a good investment. But its important to point out that were not just following our collective gut here. Were doing our homework. Over the past two decades, the real estate market has outperformed the stock market by a factor of nearly 2 to 1. (Since 2000, the S&P 500 yielded an average 5.43percentannual returnversus the real estate markets 10.71 percent.) Whats more, arecent survey conducted by RealtyShares found that more millennials were aware of this fact than any other generation polled. Part of this awareness may actually come from our typically maligned internet obsession. Many online financial experts popular among Gen Y are increasingly recommending investing in real estate over the stock market. So much for the theory that millennials have no attention span!

Barriers to Entry Millennials may be eager to dive into the real estate investment market, but we have some unique challenges well need to overcome first. According to recent data released by credit rating agency Experian, millennials have an average credit score of 652. These lower credit scorescan significantly hike up our mortgage rates or, in some cases, prevent us from getting loans altogether. Related:5 Tried-And-True Ways to Improve Your Credit Score This is likely due to our generations massive collective debt load. The average millennial carries a burden of approximately $36,000, mostly from student loans and credit card bills. Of course, this isnt just making it difficult for us to get loansits making it difficult for us to save, as well. In fact, nearly 39 percent of the millennials polled in our study listed down payments as the number one barrier preventing them from buying property. Thinking Outside the Box That said, Gen Y is nothing if not scrappy, and many of us are finding creative financing workarounds through technology and other emerging investment tactics. For example, as the popularity of vacation rental sites like Airbnb, HomeAway, and VRBO continues to grow, expect millennials to lead the pack in terms of adoption. Just like we would with a multifamily residence, were using these emerging opportunities for supplemental income to pay off mortgages and taxes, build equity, and invest in new properties. While this practice still hasnt been fully accepted by the REI community at large, it should be. The official numbers for last year havent come out yet, but industry analysts projected that the private accommodation market would top $36 billion in 2018. Plus, its allowing many millennials to break into the REI industry when they otherwise wouldnt have considered it as an option (i.e., instead of having to buy an additional investment property, single-family homeowners can now simply rent out individual rooms to generate supplemental income). Technology Will Level the Playing Field Millennials have hurdles to overcome in entering the real estate market, but were also going to have the upper hand in an increasingly digitized real estate landscape. As the first true digital natives, millennial investors have all of the skills and resources to not only identify emerging markets and investment opportunities, but also to pounce on them quickly. Our study found that, more than any other generation, millennials are utilizing smartphone-centric platforms like Zillow and Trulia to obtain up-to-the-minute data and make informed decisions. Apps like these allow young investors to search for properties and handle transactions from hundredsor even thousandsof miles away, if they so choose. In other words, millennial habits and preferences are creating an increasingly delocalized real estate landscape, where investors can tap into hot markets all across the countrynot just those in their immediate vicinity. Millennials are just now entering into our peak spending years. At the same time, the real estate industry is quickly moving in a direction that plays to the strengths of our generation. For those reasons, were perfectly poised to be the next major force in real estate investmentand were going to take the reins sooner than you think.

How do you think millennials will fare in the market? Id love to know your thoughts. Comment below! https://www.biggerpockets.com/renewsblog/next-big-disruption-in-real-estate-investing-millennials

[greywindow]

I will never understand what kept you near me aside from momentary need. I am happy you brought up all the ways you would never cherish me or protect me though. The true nadir began when you decided I was to “blame” for the state of our relationship. The true blame lied with you, it lay in the weeds you planted… I never even said it. Numerous times I tried to clarify that no one was “to blame”…. But i was wrong. It was you. Very simply it was the ways you would never cherish or protect me… Defend me when pressed… Sure… But only because you will defend anything…. You know unequivocally that I would have burned for you… Even if only to prove you were worth it… I would have never even attempt to ask 20% of that of you because I would have been simply disappointed… And even that was a stress I simply bore, not recognizing it for what it was. So when you made my two breakdowns… Yes breakdowns Under the stress of supporting and caring for someone who seems to care about anyone other than the two of us more than anything. When I get to repeatedly hear about how willing you are to help your friends get their lives moving forward… And how you sacrifice everything of yourself to a relationship and see none of that reflected on me….. Reading and writing with your one friend Listening to the music and reading the lyrics of your other friend (who you secretly love and pine for after reading the lyrics while telling everyone else in your life but not me) Constantly waiting for video and art updates from your other friend (who in public you refer to as your wife and lover but I am some unnamed shadow) And constantly going on discussions of cosplay with online friends and getting a couple “oh yah we’ll do some stuff so I can show off your body” basically…. For me. So yes. On the days you decide to be blatantly cruel due to some hidden and callous “slight” I cast your way or some offense to your astrology and drag out my punishment for an hour or two of silence, dejected refusal to acknowledge reality amd deciding my attempts to help you are really more proofs of me being hurtful or ignorant…. Or the day I was told my grandmother was entering palliative care and you decided it was a good argument to smash my property and scream almost hysterically until you had to be physically restrained and even then almost clawed out my eyes? On those days…… I finally break down. I dont know if anyone reads this or takes the time. I don’t care. You can judge me and say “what kind of man loves like this”? I do not care. I was willing to give this woman anything because that seems to be my role in meeting inescapably damaged people… It is the wound I carry and it doesnt bother me, now that i know what it is… I have been made to feel like the smallest nothing but I am intellectual and well built physically to the point that I can destroy people mentally or physically, people can be afraid of me just by being me…. When I stumble across someone female in the situation of being bent and damaged but not broken by the world I feel comfortable enough to give up my control to them because they can teach me the softness I don’t have. In the process, for the first time… They have the opportunity to hurt, the power of control… And the passed few haven’t handled that responsibility very well. You were no different. I don’t judge you for it, although it is true. You took the ability to be Poison Ivy with her Bane and gave it up because you didnt agree with the symbolism and instead wished for Superman, a few thousand miles away. I wouldn’t have cared. I am a Gemini remember (you’re with me if you want to be or you arent. Case closed)…. I could easily live with that… But you took my dedication to you and turned it into something wrong or bad You took away any chance of forgiveness for the two times i broke down and made it into that being who or what I am. You know my ability to cause violence and I never once turned it towards you even a tiny bit…. Because my tiny bits would cause incredible damage to someone as tiny as you… And yet…. When you made me out to be the problem, that hint of violence was your goto. That was why I broke down for the third and final time and why I cant speak to you until the passage of years has grown you, or until you grow into rest of the 98%‘ers and the point is moot. I would have burned for you. I gave up some of the things that men think make them men for you. You had a Lion that would give you his belly. I dont mind that you didnt love me. C'est la Vie. It hurt, not going to lie. There is no way I would have broken down the way I did and shouted you out of my house the way I did had you simply told me that. You dont have the right to say things about me in regards to love because that honour goes to your “friend”. I want to be clear. He didn’t break us up. You did. This is not about your feelings for the other people you pretend to be poly with. This is about your lack of empathy and love for me. I am sure you have people you have talked about astrology with and even if I was mentioned alongside his name… The focus turned to him and progressed with me as a side note. How many people have seen his chart? How many people have seen mine? Has nothing to do with him. It has everything to do with you. You couldn’t even see I was literally crumbling internally that last morning when I lost it… Its not that you have some different form of love than I, its that you don’t love me. A year in I never would have given two shits whether or not you loved me, but it kind of sucks to see you more in love with yourself and him than I. And you are only being disingenuous to yourself from this point if you don’t see it. When I finally broke down I was like turning in circles and I turned to you in some weird confusion to hug you (because i didn’t know what else to do) you only saw the beast and not the cub…. Remember telling me about needing to cry? Had you hugged me then amd petted my head and told me it would be alright this story would be different. That would have been the action of both a friend and a lover to seeing the one they care for in obvious distress. You put your hands out like I was unclean… And I still didnt even really know what I was doing. Do you know I actually can’t even remember at what point or what was said when I lost it…. That whole period I almost stood outside myself and watched me spin my wheels and wring my hands turning this way and that before turning to you for a hug… I want you to know if you made it this far that I dont hate you. I reserve my true indifference for those I hate. You would never get this piece of writing. I will never mail this to you though. It will remain buried here for a long as it remains a digital memory of this time. If you find it, even then you may still blind yourself. So here it will remain… I don’t need to prove anything. I never did, thats why when a fool and a wise man argue its hard to tell the difference… I dont have any of the “pride” or ego based contradictions to iron out, prove or make fundamental to my life…. I live just fine in my skin, its you my dear that has those issues to follow through on. My lesson was to truly learn my role as the Blackbird in your life and if the alignments continue to bring me more like you I will only learn to be more patient and more caring until I get it right. One day when you are willing to be honest with yourself and actually sit down and learn who you are as a concept and not as what a concept defines you as we will talk. If there is the core inside you that everyone spiritual can see and that you cannot it will grow and break itself free of you and leave this cage behind… That will require you discovering your spirituality and that is inside not in some book or forum of painters all painting with the same color. Maybe you see the things I write, maybe not. This really isnt for you although I talking to you, its for me. I can finally just let you go… It’s taken so long and I am still hurt and mad, i am happy i know though and it’s worked its way through to the separation of our energies. I was thinking about how you would feel if you pushed him numerous times to the breaking point until he had his two breakdowns in the year you spent in his presence… And i realized that it wouldn’t happen because you are trying to buy your redemption and self worth through him… Because it was only his ex that pushed him to the point where he couldn’t handle it… Not sure how self aware you were when you made the claim that you could be like her to him… You heard and felt his pain over it, and you have projected your own insecurities into that place. The damsel in distress bit probably worked with whatever guy in town you were talking to before we were done, and if it has any effect on your true love…. It was only to show him where he wouldn’t find his redemption. The round about funny thing is… And i have never considered it until now people who have the “unrequitted” love syndrome pass it on karmically to the ones that follow.... sure to subconscious projection of superiority over the same arch type that previously caused them intense pain… You dont have to get over me, I have now finalized my getting over you... Its you who has to get over him. Maybe one day when you are ready to admit some things to yourself we will talk again... and if not then maybe in our next lives we can be cats. Take care of yourself

[fitnessexpert00-blog]

Fitness Tracker App Exposes Security Flaw at Taiwans Missile Command Center

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Fitness Tracker App Exposes Security Flaw at Taiwans Missile Command Center

Over the weekend, internet users began to focus on a company called Strava that published a heat map showing its users around the world. Strava bills itself as a social networking app for athletes. The heat map showed the location of all the rides, runs, swims, and downhills that its users have taken, as collected by their smartphones and wearables.

Of course, athletes doesnt fully capture the universe of young, fit people. It suddenly occurred to, well, everyone, that another group likely to be avid users were military personnel. As you might imagine, the heat maps shows many American and foreign military personnel are using the app, illustrating the U.S. military presence in Niger. Over the past few days, people have used the heat map to spot and assess secret military bases in Syria, Yemen, and Turkey. At a basic level, its incredible to see people taking smartphone or other devices past checkpoints into places they really shouldnt be. All this is bad, but wait, its worse.

Because as bad as the publicly available heat map is, the underlying data that Strava is collecting is a security nightmare for governments around the world. The data being collected could allow anyone with access to it the ability to make a pattern of life map for individual users, some of whom may be very interesting.

It seems, for example, that there are some very avid users of this application in Taiwan.

The site in the center is supposed to be fairly secretit houses the headquarters of Taiwans missile command. Taiwan has deployed long-range cruise missiles that can strike mainland China across the Taiwan Strait and is, reportedly, developing even longer range missiles that can reach Beijing. In a war between China and Taiwan, an important priority for Beijings military will be to destroy these locations.

And so equally important for Taiwan is the ability to hide them. Taiwan took the secrecy of this place so seriously that, when it deployed cruise missiles for the first time, the military painted the heavy vehicles that launch them to look like delivery trucks. The ruse was pretty unsuccessful. The trucks looked like badly re-painted military vehicles (which they were). And the fictional company, called RED BIRD EXPRESS, wasnt registered and didnt have a website or phonewhich most real business do since they want customers to contact them. Local reporters and netizens quickly sussed out the scheme and bloggers found the vehicles parked at the headquarters for Taiwans missile command.

This was a huge embarrassment to Taiwanese officials, who admitted the whole idea was stupid and then responded by putting a roof over the parking lot where the trucks with missiles are still parked.

Taiwan did not move the base, though. And, as you can see, there are a number of avid Strava users who work there, causally jogging right by the parking lot where the missile launchers are parked.

At some level, we might say this is no big deal. After all, everyone knows there are missiles located at this site. I mean, the front gate even has a series of missiles on display. Everyone knows whats underneath the roof. The security of this site was blown a long time ago.

Now here is the problem. This is only one of several missile bases in Taiwanan important one, to be sure, but there are others, and some of those locations may still be secret. (At the Middlebury Institute of International studies at Monterey, we try to track these bases pretty closely. Were confident we know where several are located, for example, but not all of them.) But Stravas database has one more piece of information, one that is not accessible through the heat map but would be to the company, any client which might purchase the data and any hacker that might steal it. Strava knows which user made each track. Thats charming when its a celebrity uploading a run. But what about a soldier? Soldiers, remember, rotate from one assignment to the next. Which means Strava can continue to track each user as he or she rotates to the next assignment, burning one one secret missile base after another with all those calories. Yes, if our user casually jogging by Taiwanese missiles day-after-day suddenly appears deployed to a new location, well thats very interesting if you are targeting missiles for Chinas Rocket Force.

A fair amount of personal data appears to be shared willingly by users, more than enough to make me uncomfortable. A bigger concern, of course, is whether hackers might be able to breach security and get at the data marked private. If I were a Strava employee, Id be very careful about what sort of email links I clicked on.

Even if these users are careful to never make such a mistake again, continuing to use this app will allow anyone with access to the data to make good guesses about where the user lives and works, based on exercise locations. After all, don't you usually think about picking a gym thats close to home or to work? When you are done with a run, dont you want to be close to a shower? Once this user demonstrates that he or she has access to sensitive locations by literally jogging through one, then every other ride, run, swim or ski becomes useful information. One can infer the locations of bases based on where groups of interesting joggers live or where they turned off their phones. Its even nice to see when they are on vacation, skiing in the mountains, or too busy doing something else to exercise (like training.) Really, the possibilities are endless if you are clever about this sort of thing.

None of this is to blame Strava, of course. Its provides a service that lots of people obviously find useful. I myself could use to lose a few pounds. And, of course, it isnt like Taiwans efforts at secrecy were super impressive to begin with. No one is really at fault here, other than individual users who may have violated security procedures. What the heat map does illustrate, though, is that were living in a very different age than the one where we developed a lot of our ideas about deterrence and strategic stability.

The notion that missiles on trucks would be nearly impossible to track made a lot of sense back when people didnt carry around telephones with digital maps and before they wore watches that connected to the internet. Its not as simple as just asserting that secrecy is doomed, but keeping secrets is a lot more complicated than before. And that means, in a crisis, its also a lot more complicated to know whether missiles that have been hidden away might survive, or whether you need to use them before you lose them.

So think about it before you upload your run through a sensitive military site. You might well be providing an adversary with information that could be used to kill you. But go ahead and take that run. Youll want to be a good lookin corpse if at all possible.

Read more: https://www.thedailybeast.com