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thewolfmanslayer · 3 years

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Honestly the amount of people who say artists and writers should do stuff for free, or try to rip them off on comissions still royally piss me off.

I think the worst part of it is the entitlement, I dont want to make this too much about generations but a lot of commissioners are millenial/Gen z's who grew up on the "steal and pirate everything" mentality, take everything that you can because no one else is going to hand it to you. which I can get behind, when you are screwing over MULTI BILLION DOLLAR COMPANIES. NOT THE STRUGGLING ARTISTS AND WRITERS who are trying to keep food on the table as desperately as you probably are!

It's simple, you wouldn't walk into a restaurant, order food and tell the server "sorry I don't have any money, but I've got like a few thousand followers on social media, I can get your name out there, get the restaurant some exposure" NO! They don't need "exposure" they need you to pay the damn bill!

On top of that, most of these artists and writers ALREADY HAVE FOLLOWINGS. They already have thousands of people following them, waiting for the chance to get a commission, who are willing to pay for said commission, they don't need "exposure" when they're already out there! He'll even the artists and writers with a few hundred don't need it, they'll get more followers as time goes by, their skill alone will see to it.

And what is with people trying to get free art and writing? It's not going to work! You can't harass someone until they cave, trust me, you'll be long since blocked before you even have the opportunity. I don't do comissions, online anyways, but my own friends and family, people who actually know me STILL PAY ME whenever they ask for me to do art for them because they KNOW it takes TIME AND EFFORT.

How many times do we need to have this discussion???? Like when is it going to finally click that people who need to pay their bills just as much as you do AREN'T going to do this shit for free!?

Here's the thing about art and writing, that you've heard a billion times but still aren't getting; IT. TAKES. TIME. AND. EFFORT. TO. GET. DONE. the art isn't going to magically appear and the writing isn't going to suddenly write itself, if either were so convenient YOU WOULDNT BE ASKING AN ARTIST OR WRITER IN THE FIRST PLACE!

Look at that, you see that? The first picture I did back in 2012-13, the picture beside it? I did that TWO YEARS AGO. I didn't suddenly know exactly what to do, or had anything close to a god given talent for drawing (I'm not that talented). The first picture WAS THE ABSOLUTE BEST I COULD DO AT THE TIME THAT I MADE IT. In the time between these two drawings I admittedly took a break from art, but then I got back into it four years ago. EVEN STILL that was four YEARS of starting over from the basics, relearning everything, learning new things, wanting to actually improve my art.

Which, guess what, DID NOT HAPPEN OVER NIGHT. It was HOURS UPON HOURS of my limited free time as an adult drawing over and over and over and over again, every single goddamn day to get to the point that I was able to make that redraw look as good as it does in comparison. He'll, my art now puts them both to shame! Because I spent the time improving my quality!!

Now look at these artists doing comissions, they've probably put EVEN MORE of their time to get that good! They've put in LITERAL YEARS of sweat, blood, tears, frustrations and dedicated hardwork. Some did the same as me, self teaching and lots of practice, others probably had to go to school, which definitely wasn't cheap. But all of us put in that time and effort TO REACH THESE POINTS. Of being better artists, developing our styles, getting faster at drawing.

And maybe you think that this is super easy, right? That I or every other artist can just fire some art off and boom its good and done in like an hour?

FUCK. NO.

Even now it takes me several hours a day OVER MANY DAYS to make something exceptionally good! It doesn't matter how good an artist is, it still. Takes. Time.

Maybe the issue is that you don't understand how much actually goes into art, let me break it down for you, the steps that most people follow to finish ONE drawing.

-Rough draft: general character outline, get a feel for what I want to draw.

-Rough sketch: I start doing a bit of pencil to start filling in details like mouth, nose, eyes, hair, clothes. Ect.

-Penciling: I go over the rough sketch and clean everything up, maybe do some editing, this is when you can start making out all the details.

-Ink: I trace over the finished pencil with a pen tool and actually have the line art, everything looks clean, presentable, it actually looks like a character now. I'll spend time editing this and possibly redoing the inking many times over to get to a point where I like it.

-Flat color: I decide on which colors to use for skin tone, clothes accessories. Ect.

-Shading/highlights: I figure out where my light source is and how strong it is, I then apply the correct amount of lighting and shadows to the color to give it depth, I also have determine the texture of skin, clothes and accessories to make everything look real and natural.

-Blending: I smooth out the shading and highlights so that it looks more natural and isn't too hard (noticeable difference between color) so that it looks as natural as possible.

-Finish: I go over last minute details, finish any editing or corrections that need to be done. Once it's good I call it a day.

Each process is longer in length then the previous, with the exception of the final editing (as long as everything looks good) and even the rough draft can take some time. Over all this is SEVERAL HOURS of work for a SINGLE DRAWING.

So is it sinking in yet? How much is put into doing even a single character drawing? God forbid if its done with background. This isn't a "scratch a pen around and be done with it in ten minutes" kinda deal, no, this is SEVERAL HOURS OF SOMEONES LIFE BEING PUT INTO THIS

And if you still have the AUDACITY to try and wrangle free art from an artist then there's no helping you, you're just a selfish piece of shit, no question and I want nothing to do with you.

Someone might say "But I got free art/writing from.-" look I don't give a shit if someone did something for you THAT ONE TIME, these other artists and writers? Totally seperate and different people. You're one freebie experience does not, and should not apply to other artists and writers.

"But what if I really want this commission but don't have the money right now?" Well, that's tough shit. Save up and properly commission them when you can, it's not their problem.

"But what if I'm in a really bad financial situation and really want it?" That sucks, and I'm sorry, but again, not their problem. Chances are this is their only source of income and they need to make money so that they don't end up in a similar situation.

"They have a gift! They should share it!" What kind of cheap ass- LOOK, just because someone is talented or really good at something does not automatically obligate them to do anything for total strangers in anyway shape or form. These are living, breathing people, the same as you. They need to eat, they need to pay rent/mortgages, they need to pay vet bills, send their kids to college, do their taxes and everything else that YOU YOURSELF need to do. Asking anyone to spend their time doing something for free, when that something is how THEY ARE SURVIVING is beyond asinine. Not only that, this obviously isn't a hobby to them, it is very clearly THEIR JOB. Would you want to do a job where you didn't get paid at all? Doing a shit ton of work for absolutely nothing? No? Didn't think so.

"It shouldn't be about the money!" Well unfortunately, as with almost every other job, it is. We live in a world where we desperately need to make money in order to survive. That's the painful fact of the matter. If money never had to be an issue ever again then this would be a very different story. But it's not, plain and simple as can be.

Look, these people are just like you, artists and writers who are just trying to get by in a shitty ass world, using the one thing they have that let's them have an income. Leave them be, don't try and trick them, guilt them, or cuss them out when you don't get your way. Either properly comission or leave them the hell alone, plain and simple.

#artists #writers #art #writing #rant #comissions #people

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ot3 · 4 years

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My approach to flat colors + limited palette drawings

This is a follow up to this post i made about how i go about figuring out a color palette for my limited palette drawings. an anon asked me about my actual technique of finishing them so this is gonna be an explanation of how I work in a limited palette with flat colors. I ended up with these thumbnails for a sketch last time so we’re gonna work from here and I’m gonna sort of walk through how i got to the finished version

first things first: every part of this process is just developed as a result of me messing around. take my advice with a grain of salt and if you think you know a way to do something better/that makes you more comfortable. go with that over what I say.

I’m honestly a little surprised when people express confusion about how i draw like this because it’s SUPER simple - literally all you’re doing is just stacking solid color blocks of shape. its very imprecise despite how sharp everything ends up looking.

First things first is that you want to decide how you will be handling your edges throughout the duration. Do you want your shapes to be ultra-sharp and precise, or do you want a little bit of a wobblier, grainier edge? Both can look good but it’s VERY much a matter of situational basis. i’ve been favoring looser and grainier shapes so that’s how i’m going to be working on this.

on the left here, you can see the shapes made with precise rectangular selections and an untextured pen, on the right, freehand drawn shapes and a grittier pen. There’s something immediately pretty different feeling about them. So play around with that first - its not something that’s fun to change halfway through! But lets step back a minute. It helps to work large to small. The two biggest shapes here are these orange chunks and everything gets stacked on top of them so i’m gonna do that first.

Now, a key feature of what i do: clipping masks. almost all digital art programs have them. What a clipping mask does is it constrains the pixels of a layer to the transparency of the layer below it. Here I have the light orange layer, and then on top of it the buildings and billboard are clipped to the orange. Most of you probably already know this and I’m overexplaining a bit, but there was a time when i didnt know how clipping layers worked and someone had to explain it to me.

now you’ll notice the shapes of the buildings are rough, and sloppy. here’s the fun part: since this is all about stacking shapes, only your exterior edges matter. this all gets filled in. be as sloppy as you want when you’re making your shapes. in fact, the outside edges get trimmed out a bunch to when i do this - i go in and erase them clean. Don’t be too finnicky about drawing perfect and precise! its a waste of time. As long as the silhouette is what you want, the interior can be a nightmare.

Working this way, it’s important to keep your layers stacked in a way you can make sense of. Right now there are four layers here: the background dark orange, the two main orange rectangle shapes, and then the buildings on one layer and a billboard on the other. I rack up a LOT of layers doing this and it makes it annoying in some aspects, but being able to freely recolor any one chunk without losing my detail is a key aspect of this.

So, I block those out

Next, I do the same for the smaller chunks that are still main shapes. There are once again, a lot of layers here. The top layer is the hair - you can see the head showing through it. The head and arm underneath the hair, same layer. Then the cup. Then the light green pieces of paper. Then the dark green ones.

The cup is technically farther forward than the head and arm so you would think it’d go on top, but the point isnt to recreate the foreground and background hierarchy with layers so much as it is to group things in a way i can work with. The cup goes underneath so it can be grouped with all the other objects on the table.

now, i just go and fill in all the shapes. i forgot to do the blinds but i get them later. you might notice a lot of these shapes are pretty rough, which was harder to notice before they were filled in. Now that I can see better, I go in with an eraser and clean up the edges until they’re the shape I want

sometimes erasing leaves little bits of ‘noise’ around objects like on this napkin here. i like to keep a little bit of this noise for texture, but if you dont like it make sure to get rid of it! if you’re working very crisp this will stand out a LOT

Next up is to add some detail onto the objects

I flipped the canvas here because the head shape was wrong - the ears were uneven and i wanted to fix it. I want to go about adding detail onto the billboard and buildings. i do all detail with clipping masks - but the objects are clipped to another layer and so nothing can be clipped to them. instead, i unclip them and just erase by selection for the same effect

all of the text on the papers is clipped to the papers below it. the buttons are clipped to the phone. the yellow photos and card are actually another independent layer on top, in case i want to recolor them separately. im indecisive and end up recoloring things a lot. For the most part these objects are starting to become recognizable as more than just shapes

i go in an add the details on the background and character now. theres some more stuff on the table. the lines of the face and ears are on one layer, and the flats of the eyes below that. Here’s what each group of layers is, and what they look like on their own

The background/bottom chunk. Just the table, window, and shirt.

The middle bit. All the stuff on the table and the blinds.

Finally, the top, which is just his head and arm.

now this stage is the bare bones of the drawing. you can more or less tell everything that’s happening. it reads. but its very much lacking in something - it doesnt have a ton of depth or interest. and adding that additional detailing, the dept and interest, is where stuff starts getting REALLY tricky and subjective.

im gonna take you to a much simpler scenario to show the sort of options i go through at this stage

ahh its our dear friend, sphere casting shadow. this is, more or less, the kind of image we have. you can tell whats happening but it’s lackluster. there are TONSSS of ways frm here that you can go add interior detail to a shape once it has been established. here are some quick and SUPER rough examples

from top left to bottom right: flat cel shading, softer airbrushed/gradient shading, halftone, and a textured brush. Each of these has their strengths and weaknesses. They can also be combined.

for example, here’s the solid cel shading being used to contain a gradient/airbrushed detail. This image - probably the single oldest piece of my art i still willingly show people - is entirely colored with gradients being contained in cel-shaded chunks. It has a sort of soft, luminous quality but without losing its crispness.

here’s a super quick bust with some variations of stuff going on. obviously this is no masterpiece but you see how different types of detailing can interact with each other and be used to distinguish materials too.

With the mob psycho comic I did, the detailing that wasnt line was done using a variety of halftones of different shapes layered on top of each other

by contrast parts of my ace attorney comic use a textured brush and have a sort of blended, papery feel

any of them can work for pretty much anything as long as you are using it with intent. practice around. mix styles of finishing together. find a comfort zone. the more you do it the more intuitive it becomes and at the heart of it this process is a very intuitive way of drawing because of how far removed it is from realism.

Now here is the trick - light and shadow.

Everything up to this point has been very flat and adding detail helps but there’s only so much that can accomplish. To get HEAVY light and shadow you need to think about things differently. I think if there’s any part of this process that’s complicated, its this one.

To truly get the most out of your palette, you need to pick chunks of an image to be in higher/lower light and then either ‘step up’ or ‘step down’ the colors in that chunk. here’s what I mean.

Here’s our ball with a beam of light on it. Everything Within the beam of light is one step in our limited palette lighter than anything outside of it. Here’s how I go about doing this: the shape of the beam of light is below everything else. Then, once I have the shape blocked out, i select it. With that selection in place, i go to EVERY SINGLE LAYER that’s effected, lock the opacity, and recolor that chunk. So what’s going on here is that there is only one more layer - the beam of light, below everything but the background, and the rest of this effect is just caused by every layer above it now being two-toned following the exact same silhouette. THIS is why it’s so important to keep your layers separate - if the shadow and highlight had been painted onto the base directly, i would not be able to do this without significant effort.

This works with all of the finishing techniques I talked about above

A combination of cel shading and half toning, all stepped up to give the appearance of heavier light on one area.This is also how I go about rendering transparency in this style. All of my layers are fully opaque and I allow the colors to do the work of conveying transparent material

Here’s our ball with the patterned/textured brush shading, being viewed partially through a window

it’s obviously not a very representational way of working, but as long as your audience UNDERSTANDS what you’re trying to convey, then you’re executing it successfully.

So with that, now we’re gonna go and finish this drawing.

For this one, I decide a big central shadow is necessary. In the original thumbnail, he was backlit, which I still plan on doing, and that wouldn’t make sense without casting a shadow.

I’ve had to change the colors of some objects entirely in order to get this to work right. This is what I mean when I call this an intuitive process - some stuff felt weird, so I changed it. This also involves a bit of problem solving. The newspaper is now unable to be separated from his hand. Sometimes changing the color of an object makes that object look better, but ruins its relationship with the objects around it. It’s up to you to learn how to adjust and finagle things until you get it where you want.The paper he has and the napkin underneath it also all blend together now.

The next few parts of this process are REALLY just trial and error, where I toss a bunch of spaghetti at it until it works. It’s hard to decide what to screenshot, because I don’t know what will or will not be part of the finished drawing. To that end, you can watch the recording of this drawing here. This video isn’t edited at all so it contains a couple of minutes of really shitty sketching, and then all of the color thumbnailing work i did in the last post. Actually getting started on these final colors begins around the two minute mark. It is also sideways, I am sorry I don’t know why.

Now, here you can see where I’ve more or less worked things out. His hand’s not on the cup anymore because my friend pointed out it didnt have an arm attached to it. I added some halftoning to make a gradiating effect in the sky and on the table to give the impression of a sunrise. His eyes are different but as of posting this, I don’t like them and am probably about to go back and change them again. The Cup now has a shadow and some rim lighting. His hand is in shadow. The stain on the napkin is big enough to define the edge of the paper on top of it.

Little things like that.

The more you draw like this the more the way you need to think about your space becomes natural. I hope this helps and I wish you all the best of luck!

#long post #idk what to tag this yet again #reference #color theory #i guess

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lov3nerdstuff · 5 years

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could you please make a loki x reader where he finds out how good she is at drawing/ art and it’s all just fluff?

Imagine: You just wanted to draw a beautiful stranger in a coffeeshop when suddenly everything goes pearshaped.

A.N.: Thank you @marvel-ous-buckyy for being the first one to request something! I did my best to put this prompt into action and I really hope you like it! It kinda turned into a coffeeshop AU but only a little bit :) let me know what you think!

Beautiful stranger

You were sitting in a small coffee shop downtown, shortly after 10pm, with a nice hot cup of steaming brew in front of you. It was your favorite spot in the whole city, all kinds of people came in for their daily caffeine fix. Some even came into the shop more than once a day. Especially this late at night, people came here more frequently than one might expect. As usual, you were sat on a small table in the middle of the room, your sketchbook in front of you along with a couple pencils and watercolors. No eraser, as you didn't believe in erasing when sketching. Whatever came out of your hand and onto the paper was worth to be kept or worked around. Other than that, there were hardly any huge mistakes in your drawing anyway. You had practiced your art all your life and nothing filled you with greater joy than sitting in public, drawing strangers or nature.

Today was no different. You sat in your usual spot and after a few warm-up sketches you decided it was time for a larger and more detailed piece. So you looked around yourself, taking in the surroundings while taking a sip of your coffee. It was too hot still and burned your tongue, but the smell it emitted was just too delicious to resist.

Your eyes wandered from the seemingly daily-changing staff to the customers. Most just ordered to go and were out and about again at this time of night, but then your eyes fell upon a tall man with raven hair who was sitting on the opposite side of the shop. You blinked a couple times, trying to get your eyes to fully focus after having stared at your sketchpad for an hour.

He was astonishingly gorgeous, almost surreal in his appearance. You coughed, awkwardly trying to swallow your own breath. Had you seen him here before? You were sure you'd had remembered seeing him.

You could see a little more than his profile from where you were sat. He looked down onto a journal he held in his hands. Blinking a few more times, you noticed how graceful and elegant his hands were, his whole physique. He looked out of this world, even if he wore a casual dark grey suit and a green dress shirt like most business people working late. His raven hair hung loosely around his beautiful face, framing it perfectly.

What was a person like him doing at such an ungodly hour in a coffee shop? Well, you were also sitting here, touche, but for the sole reason that you wouldn't be able to sleep at home anyway. If the heavy insomnia you suffered from kept you up all night, at least you could use the time to draw in peace and be happy for once.

Back to the beautiful stranger. The energy he radiated seemed to draw you in like he had his own gravity, only working on you. He was so focused on his journal, he didn't seem to notice your staring. His high cheekbones and sharp jawline were just screaming at you to draw them.

So you started with delicate but certain lines, making sure to capture every detail of his being. Drawing the hair, you suppressed the urge to just walk over and run your hands through the black locks. It looked so soft… you tried to do it justice in your work.

Exactly there lay the problem you saw in your drawings. You wanted to capture the most magnificent and the most beautiful the world had to offer, but in your eyes you often failed to truly reflect their outer beauty. Instead, it turned into both, a structural and aesthetic representation of the emotions they conveyed. This time… there was so much sadness radiating off this man, but also so much passion and the pure intensity of it made your skin crawl with excitement. This drawing would turn out a masterpiece, you just knew it!

For a little more than an hour you drew and sketched, only then wondering why on earth he hadn't finished his coffee yet and left. Maybe he was here for something different after all? You didn't know and as long as he remained sitting in this same position for you to draw, you also didn't care why he was here.

Once you finished the rough sketch, you went on to inking your work. Why hadn't he left yet? Usually the people you drew only remained sitting still for no more than the time it took them to finish their coffee or maybe the news feed on their phones. He was so different…

You finished inking a while later and he still hadn't moved. Not believing your luck, you went on to color the drawing, keeping everything in cool tones and rough textures. Except for his face. That, you drew with the utmost care and delicacy. Just as you were about to finish the piece, time seemed to stop for you, as a bulky and seemingly drunk man stumbled against your table and poured the contents of his to go cup all over your sketchbook. Immediately the ink and the colors started running together and off the page, replaced by black hot liquid. You let out a yelp, jumping up from your chair and knocking it over in the process. No, this couldn't be happening… It had taken you months to fill this sketchbook and now the whole thing was ruined. After a second of utter shock, you jumped into action and grabbed the first thing available to try to save what you could from the mess.

"S-ssorry…" The man slurred, bumping into you on his way to the door, fleeing from the situation without another word.

Using the hem of your shirt, you gently patted the book dry, but it was by far too late. A young barista came rushing to your side with a bunch of napkins, cleaning the table and offering some to you. Only now did you notice that your jeans were drenched as well as your shirt. But you simply stared at the heavily smudged, crinkling book in your hands. All these memories kept in there, all the emotions you could never have explained outside of their colorful visual representations. Gone. You felt tears stinging in your eyes and your vision became blurry as you suppressed a sob. The barista finished cleaning your tabe and apologized for the hundredth time to you, but you were lost in your own mind, tears running down your face even though you willed them not to. You hated crying, hated emotions and most definitely hated people in this very moment. Without any more care for your surroundings you slumped down on your damp chair again, starting to slowly gather your drenched supplies. You just wanted to leave, go back to your tiny apartment and cry in the shower until there wouldn't be any more tears left.

Grabbing your bag, you pushed the chair back under the table and bid the staff goodbye. Outside, the cold but fresh air hit your face and you felt a little calmer. The night just happened to have this effect on you.

Just as you were about to saunter down the street, a smooth voice addressed you from behind.

"Excuse me, Miss, but I believe you forgot your book."

The voice made you shiver slightly, it was deep and calming, yet very in control.

"It's a sketchbook, but it's of no use anymore. Some douche emptied his…" You stopped mid-sentence once you turned around and saw who the voice belonged to. The beautiful stranger stood so close to you that your breath hitched and you took a step backwards out of instinct.

He was even more intriguing from up close. Your gaze shot to his face. He had green eyes that could've swallowed your soul if you kept looking at them. To your surprise, he seemed just as taken aback when he looked into your own orbs.

A blush crept up to you cheeks in no time and you quickly looked down to the book he held out to you. It looked nothing like the drenched and wrinkled thing you had just thrown into the trash. Instead, it looked almost like new.

Frowning, you took it from him. "This can't be mine, mine is all damaged…"

You flipped it open in the middle, staring at one of your drawings from a few weeks back. Completely and utterly intact and beautiful as ever. Incredulous, you flipped back and forth, but every drawing in the large book seemed to be completely fine as it had been a few hours ago.

"What…?" You breathed, your gaze shooting up to meet his once more. "How did you do that?"

A slow smirk played on his lips as he watched your irritation with great amusement.

"I noticed that you were drawing me." He simply said in this incredibly soothing and yet dangerous voice.

You blushed an even deeper shade of red. "When did you notice?"

"Oh, just about right when you ogled me for the first time." He grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "When that guy dropped his coffee on your book, I was quite furious."

"And why is that?" You asked, gaining control of your body once more. Something told you to stay away from this man and something else, something much stronger, told you to learn everything you could about him.

"Well, I wanted to see how your drawing turned out. If you got the best angle, you know…" He winked at you, making you chuckle slightly.

You took another look at the book and twisted it in every direction in your hands. "But how did you restore it completely, I mean, all the ink had started running and…"

You were cut off once more when, with a slight wave of his hand, the moisture and stains in your clothing started to simply float out of the fabric, before vanishing into thin air. Your eyes widened and you stared at him open mouthed. "Who are you?" You finally managed to ask.

"My name is Loki. Of Asgard. Or of Jotunheim. Depends on my mood, really. It's a pleasure to meet you, my dearest." He grinned at you, his hands in the pockets of his pants.

You snapped out of your awe rather quickly. He was the infamous Loki, a literal god?! That explains the magic. You hadn't heard all that much about him other than that he was the brother of one of the Avengers and capable of magic

You smiled at him. "I'm Y/N. Thank you so much for saving my book! It means a lot to me, really. Can I buy you a coffee or something as a thank you?"

He let out a small laugh. "Oh dear, I had so much coffee while waiting for you to finish your drawing, I don't think I can take another cup." His smile turned into a grin once more. "But you could let me take a look at your drawings. If they are only half as intriguing as you, then they'd be very much worth saving."

You let out a shy laugh. "You don't need to flatter me to take a look." But then, when you were about to hand the book over to him once more, you felt insecure. It contained so many memories and emotions you hadn't ever shared with anyone. And now you'd show them to a beautiful stranger? YES, part of your mind screamed. So you let him take it out of your hand and simply hoped for the best.

He noticed the shift in your mood immediately and kept the book closed in his hands. There was something in your eyes that reminded him of his own and he felt the sudden urge to comfort you. That was new… he never really cared about the people he met and so he would always put on the charming facade everyone seemed to expect of him. With you however, he suddenly felt like he could try something new, something… true.

"If you are not comfortable showing these drawings to me, you don't have to, you know..." He said quietly.

"It's silly, I just… feel so vulnerable showing this real life imprint of my soul to a stranger." You laughed nervously and looked into his eyes once more. There was no trace of his previously cocky expression left and all you could see was sincere worry and… hope? Hope for what?

"Maybe… would you…" He seemed rather introverted now, as if someone had switched his personality for a different one. "Would you like to take a walk with me?"

You smiled, a real and happy smile this time. This man right in front of you, this version of Loki, you liked much better than the previous one. It just felt more real fo you.

"I would love to." You answered gently and the two of you took off down the street.

For what felt like hours the two of you wandered the streets of your city, talking about everything and nothing. You warmed up to him quicker than you could believe for yourself and you felt like he opened up to you too, if only just a little for now.

It was already about sunrise when you yawned. That hadn't happened in a long time.

"I'm sorry I kept you up all night." Loki apologized with a small laugh.

"Nah, it's fine. I suffer from insomnia almost every night, it's a surprise to me that I'm still able to function." You brushed it off with a shrug, realizing only now how much you had told him about yourself in the past hours. And how much he had told you. It felt like you'd known him for such a long time, it was ridiculous. But something had just clicked with you and Loki and you could feel a serious crush developing. You were not sure if you minded it though, as he seemed to be quite enamored as well.

The two of you were still a block away from your apartment and yet you already felt sad. You didn't want to leave him just yet, but it was getting rather difficult to keep your eyes open.

"Do you want to come in? I… I could make you coffee or…" You turned to him once you stood in front of your building, hope all over your face.

Loki shot you his amazing smile in return. "I would love to, but I think that wouldn't be very appropriate."

You looked down to your feet. He was standing so close to you, you could feel his warmth on your skin and even smell his cologne and it all made you want to just lean against him and let yourself dwell in his sweet embrace. But you didn't dare to just hug him, so you slowly reached out and first touched his hand with a single finger, gently brushing against his thumb. He got the sign and took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers and gently brushing over your knuckles.

"Do you… do you still want to?" You asked in a breath.

"Pardon?"

"Do you still want to see the… the drawings?"

He nodded in return and you let go of his hand to find the book in your bag and place it in his hands.

He looked into your eyes once more and you nodded, so he flipped the book open on page one.

Slowly, one by one, he looked at every single page and all the while remained standing mere inches away from you. You didn't dare to look at his face, fearing to see a reaction you weren't ready to cope with. Time seemed to stand still for you; you heard nothing but his breathing and the flipping of pages.

When he reached the last page there was utter silence. The electricity and tension in the air finally made you look back up again.

He was watching you with huge eyes, with an intensity you had yet to comprehend.

Gently, you took the book out of his hands and placed it back inside your bag without breaking eye contact.

"So…" You breathed. "What do you think of the…"

You were cut off by his chilled lips crashing against your own, passionate and capturing.

There was nothing you could think, nothing you could do but kiss him back and let him push you against the wall behind you.

This was right. So so right and you didn't doubt it for a second. The kiss was gentle, yet passionate and oh so sweet. His soul was reaching out to yours and worshipping it in every way possible.

"Y/N…" He growled when you broke apart, not daring to open your eyes for you feared this dream would come to an end. "How… how did you do it?"

You frowned against his forehead, which rested against yours. "How did I do what?"

"You… you captured their soul. Every living thing you drew, it was just… as if you had taken their very essence and poured it onto the pages. The drawing you did of me, it's… I have never seen something like it. It's not mere beauty, it's the soul that…"

You cut him off with another gentle kiss. "I dearly promise: your soul is safe with me."

___________

Tags:

@its-remy-not-ratatouille

(fyi this is my other account besides @nightrose64 )

#loki fanfic #sketchbook #avengers #tom hiddleston fanfiction #loki x reader #loki imagine #coffeeshop au #loki #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel #loki laufeyson #loki love #loki odinson #loki (marvel)

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fightevilandthengetblownup · 3 years

Text

CC: Christmas Journal

---

March 15th

it wasn’t like I knew what was coming it was something far more mysterious than where i’d been this has always been too much for me i just can’t get enough/ don’t take it away, don’t leave it from me don’t make me pray for more - they haven’t been answered before now i’ll always kneel if it never goes away

---

April 8th

Oh. My. God.

I don’t know if I’ll ever walk straight. If I don’t I think it’s definitely worth it. So so worth it. God, you’re so hot, you realize? Seriously, I’m going to be thinking of this when I’m alone on a hunt for the next...forever? Probably forever. Wow.

April 8th ii

Okay dessert is never going to be the same is it? I love you. Every bit of you.

---

April 20th

i’ve thought on the words, the way your eyes were so dark - storm clouds and rough seas and the inky depths of the trenches still less deep than those cuts - i’ve though on them for hours days have past but the wounds are still fresh why must the words come out wrong why must they have a different meaning to each voice each tone makes them different - but still i would dive into you sink into the cold depths and surrender if i cannot breathe then the words cannot have voice words won’t exist in here no more

---

May 17th

Fluffy egg whites, soft Replacing the ache of sweet Sugar missing now.

Blue eyes hold strong gaze, Both alike in dignity Like stolen lines, past.

Why tears won't fall, Belonging to the history Burnt to Ash

---

May 28th

So we just hung up the phone, like literally just hung up and said good night and you said you loved me...

And the very first thing I did was open my phone and hover my phone over calling you. Because I love you. And want to hear your voice every second I can. I want to hear the sound of your breathing just to prove you're there. I want to hear the beat of your heart as it beats for me.

So instead, I picked up this journal and thought I'd tell you that - so in seven months time you know how big of an idiot you are with. And long enough that you can't escape me when you realize how crazy I am.

Bed time now. good night. I love you.

---

June 6th

I saw a girl with a Dalek shirt on today and I thought of you.

---

June 8th

Nana learned to shake hands today! Our darling girl is so smart. She takes after you, clearly. I love her so much and she's such a good girl, our baby is a fucking genius.

June 8th ii

So maybe she didn't so much learn to shake. But she did it when I had her by herself I swear. You didn't believe me at all, and she was a goddamn brat and wouldn't show you. Stupid dog making me look like an idiot.

June 8th iii

SEE I FUCKING TOLD YOU!

---

June 17th

when the wind howls, it's just the air jealous of your voice and how it's slightest whisper fills a room

when the rain falls, it's just the sky jealous of the tears you share with me

when the sun shines extra bright, it's just trying to compete with how blinding your smile is to me

but perhaps it's all a reflection of love - the world loving you and you loving me as i wait to be the earth again

---

June 28th

PINK DOG PINK DOG PINK DOG

Enjoy this crappy sketch of pink dog!

---

July 5th

This artist is almost as good as you, but at least they can copy perfectly the beauty you made. I can't believe I can look down and see this bit of you stretched across my skin forever. A little piece of you, a mark left behind on me finally showing that you were here and never left. I can't stop touching the way it is and the way I love it and the way it makes me feel. Garth thinks it's pretty but he has no idea how much it means that I will get to keep a bit of you with me forever now.

---

August 7th

Dough 1/2 cup (120 ml) milk, preferably whole 1/4 cup (50 grams) plus a pinch of granulated sugar 1 1/2 teaspoons (5 grams) active dry yeast 1 large egg, brought to room temperature 2 cups (250 grams) all-purpose flour, plus more for work surface 1/2 teaspoon table salt 3 tablespoons (45 grams) unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus additional for bowl and muffin tins

Filling 3 tablespoons (45 grams) unsalted butter, at room temperature 1/4 cup (50 grams) granulated sugar 1/2 pound (225 grams) semisweet chocolate Pinch of salt 3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon (optional)

---

August 20th

they left always but you?

you’ve stayed

---

September 2nd

Harry fell over and shouted “Pollywaffle!”

I just needed to write this down before I forgot because what the fuck was that??

---

September 30th

summer is ending but what does that mean we’ll always walk by the lake we’ll always sit in what sunshine comes we’ll always be like this, right?

---

October 15th

I know you’ve said you’ll do the costume with me, and I smiled a lot and was clearly very happy - but I just have to say thank you again, even though you’re not going to see this until Christmas. Thank you for being the magic man that appeared out of the blue for me. You’ve opened up the possibilities for my world.

---

November 12th

Oh god, I’m so nervous for tomorrow. Will everyone get along? Will everything be okay? Will I have done enough? Do you feel like this before my birthday? If so - god it didn’t show, you were so calm and sweet and in control of the day and kept everything running smoothly and here I am freaking out cause I don’t have any clean panties but the granny ones. God damn Laundry day time but I’m not going to bring this up until after your day!

---

November 14th

HE’S SO FUCKING TALL! WHY WAS HE THAT TALL?! WHY IS EVERYONE ELSE SO TALL? What fucking bullshit is that?! Though I’m glad I pulled off the surprise, your face was so happy all day and I love you.

---

December 15th

snow on the ground looks fresh and clean the way you make me feel i’m so much more than i was before you

---

#cc #christmas journal for grey #jo writes

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novaimpactgenerator-blog · 5 years

Text

Human Artist S/O Reader Headcanons

Here's a headcanon that no one asked for, but I decided the world needed anyway. It has Rodimus, Drift, Ultra Magnus/Minimus Ambus, Megatron, Rung, Ratchet, and Swerve. In that order. Requests are still open you can find them here.

youtube

Rodimus:

-Most of your works that star him are when he's fighting. The way he can twist and turn and move is both daunting and dazzling. And he couldn't agree more. Though his favorite is a huge painting you did of a selfie you two took. He hung it up behind his desk.

-Can't get enough of your art. He loves everything about it, especially when he's the subject. He proudly displays everything you do. Even if you protest. Always says that "it's too good to stay hidden".

-Loves to watch you do your thing. He could literally watch you for hours. And that's saying something since he has a very short attention span. Though him not being able to see what you're doing is not an option.

-You better believe that he has tried to get you to do something sexual of him. He's watched Titanic once. Once! Now he tells you to "paint him like one of your French girls" while his interface panels are open at least once a week. You have walked out many times. You have given in a few times. Roddy is very pretty. He definitely tried to put the first one up in his office, but Ultra Magnus immediately walked in and took it down (to this day, neither of you know how he found out so fast when no one had even seen it yet). That was a long lecture. One time, while he was sitting on his desk waiting for you in his office with his panels open, Ultra Magnus walked in. Got arrested by Ultra Magnus.

-Loves the little sketches you do on his desk. Had Brainstorm make a nontoxic clear spray that he can put on top of them to make sure they won't come off. Will pick you up and hold you if you try to erase them before he can use the chemicals. "You can't. It's there now. And there it shall stay." Caught you peeling them off once. Literally cried and pouted for the entire day. You never did that again. He found a chibi sketch of you winking and saying, "You can do it! I believe in you, Roddy!" and looks at it when he is about to give up on writing and/or reading reports, among other things. It makes him smile.

-Keeps literally EVERYTHING you make. Refuses to get rid of any of it. "It's special and beautiful!" "It's a fucking triangle, Rodimus." "And what a wonderful triangle it is!"

-Has a wall of his hab suite and office reserved for your art. He puts the private ones and the ones he just wants to keep to himself in his hab. Everything else goes in his office. Including the triangle. Sometimes he puts your art around the ship were the others will see it, but it doesn't stay there for long before it goes to either his suite or office.

-You have received MANY Rodimus Stars for your art. Mini ones.

-Found you trying to get rid of a book of "useless" sketches and line art behind his back. He confiscated it. The pages were all over his walls the next day.

-Will often join you if you are doing some kind of cool scenery. Normally this will include fire whether it is apart of the landscape or not.

-Does not like it when you draw other bots.

-Was royally pissed when he found a drawing of Thunderclash. He called you a cheater and a Thunderclash groupee and ran off. He avoided you for an hour before he came crawling back to you. Literally.

Drift:

-The majority of the works you do of him are when he's meditating or training. He always looks so graceful and calm. Unless he's stabbing something. Then he's badass and awesome.

-Cherishes everything you give him. Keeps the drawing of you and him in his spark chamber. Frames many of the things you make for him. Takes VERY good care of them. Whirl accidentally ripped the corner of one. He promptly lost his shit. Played Chase-The-Chopper-With-Swords until Ultra Magnus caught him. Got arrested by Ultra Magnus.

-Subtly watches you while you sketch. Finds it very relaxing. Will stop if you ask, but gets sad if you do.

-Finds the little sketches you leave here and there very cute. Will look fondly at them at times. Gets sad if he notices one that he regularly looks at is suddenly gone. He needs to get something to keep them there.

-Thinks of you drawing, painting, or sketching as you meditating. Does not allow you to be disturbed until you're finished or take a break.

-Has caught you getting rid of whole pages of art before. Does not stop you. Does not let you know he saw you do it. And definitely does not collect them while you aren't looking and hide them somewhere high or behind others.

-"Wait don'T GO UP THERE!"

-Is very private about the things you make for him. Doesn't like to show others what you've created for his eyes. It was for him, not the- what do you mean they can see it?

-Has asked and allowed you to draw and/or paint him with his panels open a few times. The first time was you asking him. He didn't think you'd want to so he refused to ask you first. Only does this in the privacy of his hab suite. This time is normally spent with light flirting and suggestive movements. Movements which are followed by you saying he messed up your angle and you leaving. He doesn't move anymore.

-Will join you if the ship stops at a very beautiful and peaceful planet. Thinks of this as meditation.

-The picture you drew of Tarn absolutely did NOT scare the ever living spark out of him. (Why was it so realistic and detailed!?)

-Doesn't mind if you do art of other bots, but does get a bit jealous at times depending on the position they're in. "Isn't that a little inappropriate?" "... He's sitting down... Resting his head on hand... And not even facing me. And it's for Chromedome."

Ultra Magnus/Minimus Ambus:

-Most of the art staring him are when he's working at his desk. Your favorites are when he isn't wearing his armor. You do have a few of him arresting Whirl though.

-Will carefully frame some of the bigger pieces and hang them neatly in his office. Keeps them VERY clean. Readjusts then at least five times a day only to put them in the. Same. Exact. Spot. Has arrested Whirl for defacing the huge portrait you made for him with a little more force than necessary. Keeps some of the smaller ones framed in his hab suite. They are the majority of his personal belongings.

-Will glance at you while you sketch, but doesn't watch you for long periods of time because he doesn't want to disturb you or make you feel uncomfortable. Finds it soothing when you do it while he's filling out reports. You're both being productive.

-He is very conflicted about you drawing on his desk. Literally blew a fuse the first time he saw you doing it. Does he get rid of it? Does he keep it? But his perfect desk. And the crew already doesn't respect him. You didn't notice until he suddenly slumped back in his chair with smoke pouring out of the seams in his head. If he catches you doing it he will silently slide your sketch pad to you. Refuses to put anything on top of the chibi drawing of you hugging Minimus, but does block it from the view of the bots sitting on the other side of his desk with a stack of datapads.

-Does not stop you from getting rid of art. If you don't want it you can always make more. And it's your art, therefore, it's your choice what you do with it.

-Has never and will never ask you to do anything with his interface panels open. Immediately refusing if you ask saying, "That would be highly inappropriate."

-Is extremely private about the things you make for him. Doesn't offer to show anyone the things you give him. Gets a little irritated if he catches someone (Rodimus) paying more attention to your art than what he's saying while they're in his office. You're in here for a reason, damn it! Yes, it's really good, but you could at least be subtle about ignoring him.

-Is not nearly confident enough in his artistic abilities to join you, no matter how many times you tell him he's good.

-Doesn't mind you drawing the other crew members, but did get very worried when you drew a Decepticon.

-You definitely don't draw Decepticon symbols on his desk to get back at him for blowing you off to work over time.

Megatron:

-The majority of your works with him has a subject are when he's in the bridge or when he's writing poetry.

-Your favorite (and his) is the one you made of you, him, Ravage, and Terminus.

-Handles all of your art with care. He understands the importance of art. Hung up the large portrait you made of his behind his desk. Yeeted Whirl down the hall for defacing it, and had Ravage chase him. Got arrested by Ultra Magnus.

-They are LITERALLY all the personal possessions he has. He didn't exactly bring anything with him. Except for Ravage. But that was an accident. And Ravage is a friend, not a possession.

-Not only does he watch you do your art thing, but he also writes poetry about it. He loves the look of concentration you get when you're really focused. It can always make him smile no matter what mood he's in.

-Fondly traces the chibi sketch of you and him standing back to back with arms crossed over your chests and smirking on his desk. Hides it under a datapad when someone comes in after someone (Rodimus) teased him about it.

-Has never and probably will never ask you to do any kind of art with his interface panels open, but does agree if you ask him. Though only in the privacy of his room. Is not shy about it at all. "I'm far too old to be bashful," he says as he opens his panels with a smirk.

-Cringed when he found a picture of Tarn. "... Why?" That was awkward. You had planned on just drawing a rough sketch of him and then draw an X over his face, but you got carried away and couldn't bring yourself to ruin it or get rid of it, so you stashed it.

-Does not stop you from getting rid of the art you don't want or like. Does not bring it up. Because even though he understands the importance of art he also understands why someone would want to change or get rid of theirs.

-The things you create for him do not leave his hab suite or office. Has never liked people looking at his stuff, and it's worse with your art because he sees it as personal.

-Would rather watch you work than do it with you. Besides, it gives him time to write about you.

-When he got stabbed by Cyclonus he let you repaint his chest.

-Doesn't really care if you draw other bots. Justs asks that you not give Rodimus the satisfaction of doing anything for him. "There would be no living with him then."

Rung:

-Most of your drawings and paintings of him are him working on one of his models. Your favorite one is when he let you paint him without his glasses.

-He lets you paint his models when they need it.

-Loves to watch you sketch more than anything else. What you draw lets him know what you're thinking and how you're feeling. He tries really hard not to psychoanalyze you when you go from one thing to the next, but he can't help himself sometimes. He always keeps his findings to himself unless he thinks you're in a really bad state of mind. Communication is key.

-Keeps all of the things that you give him in his office. He says it creates a more comfortable environment for his patients. And he loves to look at them when he, himself, gets troubled.

-Uses the clear coat polish for his models on the drawings you put on his desk. Always asks if he can before he paints them. Covers none of them. Often smiles at the little chibi version of you hugging him and saying, "It'll be okay, love."

-If he catches you getting rid of art he stops you and asks you why. If he doesn't like the answer you give, he will try to convince you to either give them to him or continue to work on them. If you still want to get rid of them he will let you. It is your art. So it's your choice if you want to get rid of it. That does not mean that he agrees with you. He may mention it later.

-Has never and will never ask you to draw him with his interface panels open. Will always politely refuse with a blush if you ask. "I-I'm very flattered, but I would simply be far too embarrassed."

-Uses some of the techniques you say are particularly relaxing with his patients. Except for Whirl. All he likes to paint are gruesome scenes that mostly compose of him killing someone in one way or another. And that's about the opposite what his therapy is for.

-Will on rare occasions join you in sketching or painting, but he'd much rather watch you. There's truly nothing more relaxing to him than to watch you paint a beautiful and serene landscape.

-Likes it when you draw others. Especially his patients. He gets to show them when they come in. "I wouldn't do Red Alert though. He might think you're watching him."

Ratchet:

-90% of the works featuring Ratchet are of him working because that's what he's doing 90% of the time. His favorite is the huge portrait you made of him, First Aid, and Ambulon in the medibay. He hung it up in the back of the medibay where everyone could see it when they walked in.

-Really likes your art, but doesn't fully understand why he's the subject of your passion more often than not. "There are literally dozens of interesting bots on this ship, why don't you try doing something for them for a change?" "Why would I do that when I already have the most interesting one right here?" "W-Wha- I- You can't jus- You can't possibly be serio-... Tch. Fine. Do what you want." That was one of the only times you have ever heard him stutter and the only time you have ever seen him blush.

-Likes to watch you work, but you always do it while he's working. He also enjoys just being next to you while you draw. The calmness around you is so relaxing not to mention a nice change of pace.

-Loves finding the little drawings you leave around the medibay. They're especially helpful when he has difficult and/or drunk patients come in. He always looks at the one you left on his desk. It's a chibi of you smiling and saying, "Hang in there, Doc. I love you!" He did get onto you for calling him Doc, but he could never get rid of it. Though he will cover it if Whirl, Swerve, or Rodimus comes in for a che- Wait. How the hell did you get one on the ceiling!?!

-Has never and will never ask you to do anything with his interface panels open. If you ask him, he always says, "... I'm too old for this shit," and walks away from you.

-If you give him something small he asks you to hold onto it for him. If you make something small, but personal for him he may put it in his hab suite or put it on the glass of the medibay cabinets. He does have a framed drawing of a picture that was taken with you on his shoulder by Rewind on his desk.

-If he sees you getting rid of something he doesn't question it. You can always make more. But if you try to erase something you've drawn around the medibay he gets mad. "Excuse you. You already gave that to me. Now scram or go do something else. I'm working he- WHIRL, SIT YOUR ASS DOWN! NO, DON'T TOUCH THAT!"

-Lost his shit when Whirl put a hole in the portrait of the three medics. Ultra Magnus had to stop him. "And what do you think you were doing?" "Examining his brain." "YOU WERE BEATING HIM OVER THE HEAD WITH A WRENCH!!!" "Oh, was I? I get those two mixed up all the time." Got arrested by Ultra Magnus.

-Won't participate in anything art wise with you. It's just not his thing. He'd rather you do it and watch you.

-Likes when you draw other members of the crew. Especially his fellow medics and Ten. (But don't think he didn't notice you staring fondly at that drawing on your desk, First Aid. You better not.)

Swerve:

-Most of the works he's in are set in the bar or in his hab suite watching soap operas. Your favorite is a painting of a picture you took of him laughing while mixing a drink behind the bar. His favorite is the portrait of you and him sitting at the bar (while it was empty) grinning and holding hands.

-He cherishes everything you make for him. His room is covered in your art. He has dozens of the little sketches you make around his recharge slab along with the hundred or so drawings of you and him that he's asked for you to make. If he's having a bad day and you aren't around he looks at them.

-Hordes all of your art. If you make something it is not to be destroyed EVER. If he finds you getting rid of anything he immediately runs over and takes it from you. "No! Not allowed!" And puts them with the rest in his room.

-Has drawings and paintings and sketches of the crew hanging out at Swerve's proudly displayed around the bar. Loves when bots gather around them to laugh at the memories.

-Would never have the courage to ask you to draw him with his interface panels open, but he wants you to. He's watched Titanic too many times. He's had you watch Titanic too many times. You've watched Titanic too many times. You refuse to watch Titanic again. When you ask him if he'd like you to "paint him like one of your French girls" his face turns pink with energon and his fans turn on almost immediately. Of course, he says yes.

-LOVES the little drawings you leave on his bar. Had Brainstorm make a clear nontoxic spray so they would stay there in exchange for free drinks for the night. Threw a glass at Whirl's head when he accidentally scratched one off. Was chased around the ship by a pissed helicopter. Was rescued by Ultra Magnus. Was arrested by Ultra Magnus.

-He loves to stare dreamily at the chibi sketch of you blowing a kiss and saying, "I love you, Swerve!"

-Loves to paint with you, but thinks he's horrible so he doesn't do it too often unless you beg him. Loves to watch you paint on and with Ten.

-Does get extremely jealous if you draw someone else more than twice in a row. He's so worried you're going to leave him for someone else. "So how come you've been drawing Rodimus so much lately?" "He's Rodimus. He asked me to."

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spiffyworks · 5 years

Text

Artist’s Software Surfing P1 - Sketching

SSSo recently, after finishing (an admittedly long-overdue) a piece, I decided to download a trial of the new Corel Painter 2019. I hadn’t used Painter since my old DeviantArt days (circa 2005) and wanted to see how it felt with more digital art-veteran hands. Loaded it up, started sketching my default doodle-muse and wow, that “Real 2B” pencil feels great. I loved it so much, and wondered why.

That’s the story that is spawning this weird personal series of Software Surfing. I wanted to write little notes to future-me on how it felt using my favorite sketching tools in each program I have, and after the sixth one I thought it might be a good idea to check out inking, colouring, painting, etc. and writing those down as well.

So I’m writing this series for myself, but making it available in case anyone else can benefit as well. Thanks for sticking with the intro, let’s get into it.

Artist’s Software Surfing P1 - Sketching Artist’s Software Surfing P2 - Inking Artist’s Software Surfing P3 - Colouring Artist’s Software Surfing P4 - Painting

There are many ways to sketch, but this is specifically the classic “pencil” or “drawing” form using the tools with the program’s default settings.

As an introduction, this is my doodle-muse, Cloey. She was my first original character, and though I don’t usually share my anthro art on here (I know that’s not everyone’s thing) I do have a separate blog for that stuff that you can find here if you’re so inclined. If you’re familiar with Artgerm (and you should be), she’s basically my Pepper.

Corel Painter’s “Real 2B”:

The one that started it all. The pencil just GLIDES, and I’ve always loved when you can tilt a pencil tool and it will shade just like tilting a real-life pencil. The only thing I want from a program now is to be able to bind touch to blenders so I can use my finger to smudge-blend the scribbling. (I tried drawing that fist so many times /fume)

Likes: Tilt functionality, line width variance, stroke speed, eraser Dislikes: Rebinding Rotate Canvas tool was a pain. I like Shift+Space, and that key combo is reflected in the shortcut panel, but it just continued to pan. Never worked for me, and rotating or flipping the page quickly is crucial for my sketching process. Also sometimes if I quickly resize the eraser and mash it down to use, it won’t detect any input.

Photoshop, Kyle Webster’s “2B” & “Animator Pencil”:

**Disclaimer** Firstly, I’ve used Photoshop for over 15 years now, and it’s a great digital art tool, but for drawing and painting I find it’s sorely lacking. It’s slow, expensive, and unintuitive. That being said, there are some things this program does exclusive to others so I’m still clinging to it (desperately) and while I would definitely recommend something else for budding digital artists, I have to supplement my misgivings by purchasing additional plugins and tools, such as the famed Kyle T Webster’s Ultimate Megapack for Photoshop (

which is now complementary with Photoshop CC, damnit

). Unless otherwise noted, all the brushes I use in Photoshop will be from that pack. **End Disclaimer**

Following off the heels of Corel, I remembered messing around with another “2B” (which btw is my personal favorite traditional pencil to sketch with) in Kyle Webster’s Drawing Box in Photoshop. It felt a bit similar, but with no tilt functionality and it really lacked the chunky-thickness (a scientific term) I enjoyed with Painter’s pencil. I switched to my favorite (and the favorite of MANY digital artists btw) his “Animator’s Pencil”. So chunky, but the ability to shade lightly... It’s really a fun brush to use for sketching digitally. Still one of my absolute favorites.

Animator Pencil Likes: Line width variance, texture fills in and scales perfectly Dislikes: It’s a photoshop exclusive, a program that for some reason you can’t bind shortcuts to whatever you please, takes forever to load, and WAY too often suffers input lag while drawing. Also no tilt shading, :’( aw

Paintstorm’s “Textured Pencil” & “Pencil Tilt”

As a bit of an aside, I love Paintstorm, Paintstorm is what got me back into digital drawing and painting after doing 3D and game design for 7 years. I bought it for the very low price of entry (2 licenses for $30) and was impressed by its ability to customize literally anything in the program. You can create your own tool/brush boxes, bind any shortcut to any key combination, and every single brush tool adjustment comes with the most customization control of any program I’ve come across since Photoshop set the bar way back in the day. Out of the box a lot of the basic brushes have that old OpenCanvas or PaintTool Sai feel, but more recently they’ve added some very textured default brushes you can play around with. It’s also hands-down the FASTEST program I’ve ever worked in. I highly recommend giving it a try, it’s great for learning and experimentation. I grew a lot working in Paintstorm.

The Textured Pencil is a fun sketching brush, you can get as think or thick as you’d want and it keeps a clean outline. The Pencil Tilt really blew my mind the first time I used it. YOU CAN SHADE! It was the first time I had ever seen a program do that. The tilt has a great texture, fantastic control, and gets just as dark as you’d need. I’d recommend using them both, the Textured Pencil for a cleaner sketch, and the Pencil Tilt for something more expressive or loose.

Krita’s Ink-Tilt & “Sketch”:

I’ll be honest, I have almost no experience in Krita despite having downloaded and given it a try back in 2014. It was a hell of a time to figure out how to rebind my usual shortcuts (flip horz, rotate canvas). I couldn’t even rebind colour grab/eyedropper. Yikes. I opened up the “Sketching” brush box and there were only two options, made worse as one was a sketch pen... That lacked the flexibility of ballpoint.

First I grabbed the pencil dubbed “Sketch” and was bewildered why the size of the circle was so large compared to the mark it made. Very confusing. Feeling intimidated, I abandoned it immediately to try out the “ink_tilt” (which by the way there’s no tilt functionality??) and hated it. I reluctantly went back to the pencil and just started trying to make marks. Wow. It’s weird, but surprisingly fun. You have to be willing to relinquish a LOT of control, but the shapes the brush makes while moving and tilting during a stroke can yield some really interesting and suggestive shapes. I would say great for early concepting or making something really loose and expressive. Fun to play with, but not really practical.

Clip Studio Paint’s Real Pencil & Rough Pencil

I’ve been wholly immersed in CSP since I purchased the program back in late 2016. It goes on sale often, so you can pick up a nice fully featured program for ~$35. I’d had my eye on it for a while and still really want to get into self-publishing comics, so I picked it up, bought a couple of brush packs for it (it’s pretty lacking in default painting tools) and I’ve been illustrating in it ever since. The brush creation isn’t as fun as Paintstorm, but brushes are quite customizable. I usually like to use the “Rough Pencil” if I want just a little texture and line variance, or the “Darker Pencil” for something cleaner. Trying to be different, I just jotted out a couple heads in ones I don’t normally use, the Real Pencil and Design Pencil. The Real Pencil has a lot of texture, but for some reason in CSP the textures don’t seem to scale with the brush, so I tend to avoid using it in most cases. I hate the design pencil, I just could never get dark enough. I guess that’s probably the point, though.

Well, that definitely wraps this digest up. I feel refreshed after trying out a lot of new digital sketching brushes. I was really reminded of how much I enjoyed drawing in Paintstorm. I hope someone other than me found this useful or otherwise inspiring! Sometimes, especially if you’re stuck in some art blockage, it’s a good idea to try something new, and for me digitally that’s hopping programs and trying new brushes.

I’m thinking about doing inks, colours, and painting at some point. Let me know if anyone’s interested in those! I’m planning on doing some for myself eventually, but I might expedite a post if anyone is interested. o/ Take it easy, y’all.

Artist’s Software Surfing P1 - Sketching Artist’s Software Surfing P2 - Inking Artist’s Software Surfing P3 - Colouring Artist’s Software Surfing P4 - Painting

#process #sketching #software #guide

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kittensartswriting · 6 years

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25 Questions Tag

Thank you @rosecorcoranwrites for tagging me! :)

1. Is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason? I’ve been holding of a murder mystery novel I was planning about year? two? ago. At some point I realized I’m not ready for it, not because it would need better writing than fantasy, but more like I felt I didn’t understand our own world good enough yet (does that make sense?) and didn’t yet had the means and patience to do enough research to get the understanding.

2. What work of yours, if any, are you embarrassed about existing? Oh boy... Many. The bright side is, I’m so bad at finishing anything I start that I have never finished a full length novel. (Though I’ve written many and many terrible things that only counts as short stories because of length.) I remember writing starting a fantasy story in high school or primary school where main character was a prince of tyrannical kingdom and suddenly he changed to a black panther (not the superhero) and couldn’t change back. Of course he came across the shape shifting rebels and there was of course this girl that turned into a tiger and of course they didn’t get along but we all know how that ended up. I’m pretty sad that it was so many computers ago it is lost forever.

3. What order do you write in? Front of book to back? Chronological? Favorite scenes first? Something else? Chronologically. As character exercises I tend to write my favorite scenes as I invent them, but usually they don’t end up in the novel or at least without some changing.

4. Favorite character you’ve written? Would you pick a favorite of your own children??

5. Character you were most surprised to end up writing? I’ll go with Valeri. He is not the usual type to end up my main character and that is the precise reason I made him. I don’t want to limit myself with writing only characters I would like in real life. I definitely wouldn’t like him if I met him, but I like him as a character. 6. Something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now? There are no such changes for me. I have started my current wip three times from the scratch. If I feel there is such a big change that should be made I drop the project for a while and think about it. If I still want to write it, I make the change, if I have fell out of love, I move on. (Also as I’ve never get so far as the finish, it is possible.)

7. When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write? Embarrassed... Usually I’m not shy and I’m pretty confident in myself, not caring really what other think, except when it comes to writing. I’m not really sure what is it, but I think it’s that I’m pretty private person and writing is something I do right from the hearth.

8. Favorite genre to write I like historical fiction so much too (also mystery), but I have to say fantasy. I just love the world building!! At same extend you can’t do that much world building in any other genre (except scifi), and I love it.

9. What, if anything, do you do for inspiration? Read books and read especially non-fiction. Most of the time reality is stranger than fiction. 10. Write in silence or with background music? Alone or with others? Definitely alone and mostly in silence. Though sometimes instrumental music (ambient, classical or movie music)

11. What aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing? I don’t know, I had so many flaws (still do) that I can’t really say what I was worst at.

12. Your weaknesses as an author? Firstly: finishing the god damn thing. Secondly: action scenes and writing action overall 13. Your strengths as an author? Characters and world 14. Do you make playlists for your work? Sometimes but rarely use them as I prefer silence :D 15. Why did you start writing? I had so many things in my head I wanted to put on paper. It’s my form of self-expression. 16. Are there any characters who haunt you? Currently Valeri. I can’t get him of my mind :D

17. If you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

Do and outline, decide ending before starting. Outlining isn’t for everyone but it is sure worth trying. And you start with FIRST draft, it is something like a sketch, so just write it, don’t think too much. Then you can write second, and third and as many drafts as you need.

18. Were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? What were they? I would argue that everything that I’ve read have affected my writing style, some more than others. Nothing very clear, I think. Of course Harry Potter, almost anyone my age can say that, but I’ve read so little lately that I really don’t remember how each author writes. 19. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.? With Drive. I have docs where I write all the names of the characters, no matter how unimportant they were, and tell in few words who they are. I organize the docs by area. Then I have a docs named ‘timeline’. There I have all the historical events as well as main events of the story listed by year and month. Also I have list of character arcs and subplots for every main character. And then of course I have list of chapters and events in each, also some notes on the chapter. As you can see I like listing things. I fill all the lists as I go along. 20. Do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts? I either don’t write at all or I sit down straight seven hours and write non-stop. I don’t have in between mood

21. What do you think when you read over your older work Depends how old :D If its a few years old, it’s surprisingly good. If its about five years old it’s in the awkward zone where it is bad, but not bad enough to be funny, reading them makes hurt inside. Everything older than that is just super funny. 22. Are there subjects that make you uncomfortable to write? Not really. I’m not planning on (at least yet) showing my writing for anyone but here in internet where no one knows me and for my boyfriend who know me inside out and I have nothing to lose :D so I feel I can write literally anything. Only thing I can think of is sex scenes. I really like smut but I’m pretty bad at it, as I don’t want it to feel erotica but also I don’t want it to be censored or too vague. 23. Any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing? Hard to name anything specific as I believe that all life experience helps writing. You know, when you write about people and life, I really helps to be people and live. 24. Have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story? While starting to write Saga of a Shieldmaiden, I became kind of a expert on Finnish mythology and life and history of Vikings. My knowledge was very limited on both subjects before that. Also for a murder mystery novel (that I mentioned in the first question) I read a criminology book.

25. Copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of. I answered same question before in another tag game, and I’m now too lazy to translate another paragraph. So this one is from the original Saga of a Shieldmaiden (that I’m now revising). It might be a bit too long though.

Something big was moving around me as I felt the water flowing differently. In the thickening darkness I couldn’t see anything. Or maybe I had my eyes closed, I couldn’t be sure.

It is not the sea that is suffocating you. It is the fear. You reek of it. You are so full of fear, it is dripping out of your throat. So full, your breath cannot flow.

I felt a touch on my throat. It was not a touch of a human. It was not a hand of a human. Massive crooked claw rested on my neck. The claw was rough and stony hard, full of scales. Sharp end of the nail pressed against the skin of my throat without piercing it. I felt a breath of a warm current behind my back. One breath caused so strong tide, it would have wiped me away, if the claw wouldn’t have kept me put.

Let the water into your lungs. Let the salt clean you of fear.

Every moment without air led me deeper into the dark, closer to death. Maybe he was the Death. I turned to look over my shoulder. To my horror I was faced by great, scaled, sharp-fanged head. A head of a dragon. It’s long serpentine body seemed to extend twisting into the endless blackness. The silvery scales glowed in the darkness of the sea and the deep-blue wells that were his eyes looked at me without blinking.

I’ll tag @lady-redshield-writes, @coda-wolf, @alittle-writer, @starlitesymphony and @plaguecraft! :)

#tag game #tagged #my writing #writeblr

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zne-theartist · 6 years

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The Angry Artist Ch1

Link on AO3 | Boku no Hero Academia | Bakugou Katsuki x Kirishima Eijirou Summary: Bakugou is a very passionate artist major, while Kirishima is a model and fashion major. By some weird force, the guy watches Bakugou while he works. Tags: No Quirks AU, College AU, eventual smut Chapter 1/?

Special Thanks: To my lovely beta and friend Tiffany for beta-ing this fic, and a special thank you to a friend of mine Collin (who I can't dedicate this fic to because I don't know your AO3 handle dear) for making this happen so fast.

Important note: This is not going to be your typical AU - personalities are going to be unexpected and the cast of characters alongside Bakugou and Kirishima are going to be more colorful. This will be a slow yet fast burn and a multi-chapter fic. I am so excited to bring this to you and hope you enjoy it.

Even with the music blasting through his ear buds, blocking out all the annoyances of the other students in the art room, he knew when he walked in. He could feel the red eyes boring into him and from his peripherals he could see the students swamp the redhead as he sat down on the crappy red sofa they kept in the room for when any of the students decided to lay down and die from art critiques. These people had the audacity to go over and speak with him when they should be working on their projects!

“Tch.” Bakugou looked back at the work he was painting and slapped some more paint on it haphazardly. This was supposed to be a place to work – not socialize! Finally, he clattered his palette down and glared at everybody who had jumped, all eyes on him. “Shut. Up.” His voice cut rough and sharp, slicing at the group of girls and guys like knives. He snatched up his brushes and took off to the sinks to wash them.

When he returned everyone was whispering amongst themselves, but ultimately away from the redhead – who was giving him the brightest smile, hands overtop the messenger bag in his lap. He scoffed as the redhead waved and quickly went back to his painting. He didn’t get it, didn’t understand why the redhead just sat and watched him. Sometimes he would do his own homework, but he was always watching the blonde.

The redhead was Kirishima Eijirou, a model and fashion major who was very pretty and equally popular. He was famous on campus for his good looks – what with long red hair, bright eyes, and little freckles dotting his cheeks – and his humble personality. Everybody wanted to know him and talk to him, wanted to be him or be with him. He was well above Bakugou’s horrible reputation and looks. Bakugou was a simple Fine Arts major who hated interacting with people and kept to himself. He had an explosive personality, was bad tempered – he would not deny it if people called him a bad person because they didn’t understand him and they weren’t worth his time – and was constantly yelling.

But for some goddamn, unearthly reason, Kirishima came daily to watch him. The first time had been rather sudden, and the first few interactions weren’t good at all, explosive as Bakugou refused to let Kirishima in the room, definitely not to watch him work. But Kirishima fought back and argued with him so well that Bakugou had been squandered into a corner. It shocked him, because Kirishima was honest in wanting to watch Bakugou work, and he had fought with him for a straight week to do so. Finally, Bakugou relented and gave in, said if the redhead was quiet and didn’t bother him when he was working he could stay and watch – despite the blonde hating being watched – and when he gave in, Kirishima gave him the brightest triumphant smile. It had blinded Bakugou. He did exactly what he had promised Bakugou. He sat on the couch and didn’t say a word to him while he worked, just watched or worked on his own stuff. And he came every day. Weirdly, it wasn’t bothersome having the redhead watch him work like it was when others tried. It was nice.

Bakugou worked for another three hours, Kirishima watching him for a good portion of it before he had retrieved his sketchbook out of his bag and sketched his homework if Bakugou had to take a guess. Finally, he sat back and looked at the background of his piece that he had painted. Blues, purples, and pinks mixed with swirling splotches of black. Perfect. He kept his ear buds in as he cleaned everything up: his palette, brushes, tubes of paint. Then, he took his phone out, pausing the music, before he pulled the buds out of his ears. A signal that he was finished. As soon as he did,

“Are you done for the day?” That sweet voice filled the now empty art room. Bakugou’s gaze shifted from his phone to look at Kirishima. He was putting his things away into his messenger bag, but he was focused on the blonde.

“You’re still here.” He spoke gruffly, turning back to his work and putting the rest of the brushes away. He was covered in dry paint from his hands to his forearms, even more covering his t-shirt and the capri sweatpants he had on, but those already had past paint on them.

“Yup!” Kirishima had shoved everything into his bag and shouldered it, waiting expectantly as he stood up from the couch. Bakugou shrugged on his discarded hoodie, that was a faded grey and also covered in paint. (Needless to say he was a passionate painter with paint also covering his area.) He covered his piece carefully then picked up his small black skull drawstring bag by his easel, shoving the earbuds in. “Want to grab something?”

Bakugou looked up after slinging the straps over one shoulder, bag shut. It was four pm now… he didn’t have anything else to do except go back to his cat and there were those eyes staring at him again. Bright, twinkling… his red hair was down yet tied up at his nape in a loose bun, loose strands of hair framing his face… he was wearing designer jeans no doubt, expensive looking boots with a bit of heel so he ended up seeming taller than him, and a burgundy jacket… Compared to the beauty before him he looked like total shit with his bed head spikes, worn sneakers, and paint covered lounge wear. Yet, this beauty was looking at him the way he was and asking him if he wanted to grab coffee, grab food, spend time, anything – again asking like he did every time.

He shrugged his shoulders, heading to the door. “Hurry up or you’ll be left in the dark.” He just didn’t get it.

Bakugou did hesitate in the doorway, fingers on the light switches, waiting till Kirishima brushed his shoulder on his way out the door. Then, the lights were flicked off and they left the art room. They walked silently through the art building on their way out to the campus grounds, passing lingering students or those on their way to the few evening classes held in the building. The air was chill and crisp outside, and had Bakugou shoving his hands into his pants’ pockets.

“You don’t like the cold, huh?” It was weird.

“It’s fucking horrible.” Why did this guy want to hang around him? Kirishima’s laugh was bright, like wind and bell chimes, and his cheeks were already red from the cold…but it brought out the freckles on his cheeks.

“It is pretty cold! But soon Christmas will be here so it’s totally worth it.”

“Fuck that.”

“Don’t like Christmas either?”

“No.” Kirishima laughed, and it left Bakugou confused. Conversation with Kirishima was easy, unlike trying to have a conversation with someone else. Like right now, the redhead talked about all that he liked about Christmas. Despite Bakugou being constipated with his emotions and words with the man, he just kept their conversation going, listening to the grunts, huffs, and sounds Bakugou made to contribute to the conversation – to let Kirishima know he was truly listening.

It was amazing. Kirishima was amazing.

Before he knew it, the redhead had walked them right to a café off campus.

“Want to stop in here?” Kirishima pointed his thumb up at it. Bakugou looked up at the place and looked back at Kirishima.

“Do they have dark roast coffee?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay then.” Bakugou pushed past Kirishima and pulled open the door, holding it open till he entered first before he followed after him. They ordered at the counter, Bakugou letting Kirishima order first before he stepped up beside him and added onto the order to make it one. He beat Kirishima to the punch by pulling out his wallet and paying for both of them. Bakugou lead them to a booth after they grabbed their shit from the pick-up counter. He plopped down onto the seat loudly while Kirishima quietly slid in across from him.

“You didn’t have to pay for my stuff Bakugou.”

“Hmph.” Bakugou shrugged his shoulders and hunched over his coffee, sipping it without a care that it was burning his tongue. He stared at Kirishima through his bangs as he warmed up his hands around his coffee cup. Kirishima slowly sipped his cappuccino, hissing softly at the hot liquid hitting his tongue, two croissants sat wrapped beside his elbow. He looked so good right now – the setting sun sparkling in his eyes, and it created a halo on his hair as it shone through the window.

He… … he should try.

“You working on finals shit already?” His voice sounded much more gravely despite dosing the back of his throat in hot liquid, and it nearly made him cringe at how the redhead might interpret his words. Kirishima looked up, and that gorgeous smile graced his features, quite literally lighting up the whole space around them. He was happy that he had spoken up, his face so easy to read at times like these.

“Not quite!” His voice was chipper. “I have a few more assignments before I can even get started or think about my final project.” He laughed. Bakugou felt completely warm now. “Some of them are stupid and not imperative to my grade but… it wouldn’t feel right to skip over them like other people do.” He thought he was pretty honorable and Bakugou did like learning about Kirishima, especially that he truly was not a slacker like other people were. That he was nice.

“Heh. Good. People who skip out like that don’t get far at all.” Bakugou was a perfectionist though, and strove to excel in everything, to do everything he could and do it right. Kirishima smiled brighter at him. “So… uh,” He sipped his coffee again as if the stuff was liquid courage. “Why do you come to the art room?”

“To watch you.” No hesitation. He got an answer like that. His eyebrows scrunched, asking the main question he wanted to know.

“Why?” Kirishima grew timid, almost immediately Bakugou could see him curling into himself. He brushed a loose strand of hair behind his ear and Bakugou watched the motion.

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Fucking try me.” Bakugou had sat up straight now, hands around his coffee, right leg bouncing in nerves. He had to know why.

“Maybe later.” Kirishima answered sheepishly – to which Bakugou immediately clicked his tongue at.

“Che.” But, he didn’t press the question, simply took an angry sip of his coffee. As impatient as he was, he could indeed be patient. He would be patient for Kirishima. When he noticed Kirishima still tense, he brought the conversation elsewhere, letting Kirishima know without outright saying it, that he was dropping the subject and he’d wait to ask again. “So what the hell were you doing in your book earlier?” Kirishima perked right back up and began to explain the assignment he had been working on.

#The Angry Artist #fanfiction #bakushima #kiribaku #fanfic #bnha #boku no hero academia #slow burn #artist au

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daveyjacobss · 7 years

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take me with you | jack kelly

reader x jack kelly

[newsies]

request: “Can I request an imagine of meeting Jack in the refuge and he helps you escape/become a newsie?” - @notafraidofstopping876

summary: Love sometimes shows up in the least likely places, and not every love story has a happy ending.

a/n: this is really late and probably not what you wanted bc it’s angsty and sad but this is what happened so.... i’ve literally been writing this for like a month bc i kept stopping and then coming back to it. it’s pretty long, so that’s good, but it’s not the best. sorry, hope you enjoy it !!!

__________

Maybe it hadn't been the best idea, but Y/N would never admit that what she'd done was wrong. She knew the consequences when she did it, and she accepted them when they came. She just didn't expect them to keep coming.

She'd known about the Refuge, and she had heard horror tails passed from kid to kid about what it was like in there. She had stupidly assumed they'd been exaggerating. And yet, still, she wouldn't apologize for what she'd done.

She was in her small bunk, shared with another girl, one night wrapped in a thin blanket when Snyder walked in, dragging a boy with him. She shivered violently, trying to keep her breathing quiet as she listened to them.

"You won't be getting out of here this time, Kelly," Snyder spat venomously. He threw the boy into one of the bunks and stomped out, slamming the door harshly and locking it behind him.

"Is he okay?" She wasn't sure who had spoken, but by the sound of the whisper it was someone younger. It should've startled her, but it was no secret that no one actually slept in the Refuge. Slowly, Y/N stood on her shaking legs and stumbled over to the boy. He was about her age and his face was a bit beaten up. He groaned when he moved, clutching his stomach. She could only assume that they hadn't been gentle when apprehending him.

She placed a cautious hand on his shoulder and he looked up. She sucked in a breath when his eyes met hers. A small murmuring began to spread through the room as the other children seemed to recognize the boy.

"It's Jack!" Allie, one of the younger girls, cried out. She could feel fear squeezing her heart the minute she said it. This couldn't be Jack. Jack, as in Jack Kelly, was the main reason half of the kids in there - including Y/N - were still alive. Jack Kelly stole food, clothes, and blankets for everyone. He had escaped a little while back and ever since he'd been helping all the other children locked up in the Refuge. Y/N had never actually seen him before, she'd always been part of the distraction. But if it was really him they were all doomed.

Tentatively, Y/N picked up a wet rag and softly dabbed at the cut on Jack's arm. He looked at her with confusion, but it quickly turned to gratitude as the bleeding started to stop and some of the dirt was wiped away. The entire room was filled with panicked whispering as everyone tried to keep their voices down, but couldn't control their worry. Y/N tried to stay calm as she tended to his wounds, but she could feel her breathing becoming rapid and her heart was pounding, pounding in her chest.

When she had finished with the cuts and bruises on his face and visible arms, she hesitated. There were definitely more injuries under his shirt, and possibly on his legs, but she couldn't very well start peeling his clothes off. She cleared her throat slightly, and whispered to him.

"We can save the rest for tomorrow," she said, cursing her voice for being so shaky. "You should sleep." He nodded, his eyes already closing. She could tell how exhausted he was, and so with the help of a few other kids they got him into one of the beds. She tried to sleep as well, but she stayed anxiously awake for the entire night.

__________

Y/N was out of bed the minute the sun started to peek over the horizon. Most of the other children had fallen asleep or simply wanted to stay in bed as long as possible. She didn't blame them, but she couldn't sit still any longer. There was a need to do something crawling around under her skin.

She had cleaning duty that day, but only for the windows. Quietly, she grabbed her supplies and started her job. By the time some of the other kids were finally getting up and the sun had reached the sky, she was already done. She worked quickly when worried, her body racing to keep up with her thoughts. She went to put away her supplies, dumping out the dirty bucket of water. She was about to put it away when she thought better of it. She filled it with clean water and grabbed a few clean rags. She snuck them back into the room where Jack was laying, still unconscious.

Then she stole some fabric (that would get her another few months if anybody found out), thinking it would be helpful in nursing Jack. When she returned to the room everyone was up and at it, working on their daily jobs or caring for others who had grown sick. She started to repeatedly organize her supplies at the side of Jack's bed anxiously, waiting for him to wake up. She felt bad waking him, after seeing how tired he'd been. Her hands fidgeted with anything she could find.

"You'll spill the water if you keep moving it that fast." She looked up, startled, to find Jack looking at her curiously. She felt her breath hitch the same way it had when their eyes had met the first time, this time amplified by the sound of his voice.

"Sorry, I get, um.... I get anxious." She blushed slightly, looking down.

"Last time I was here they separated the boys and goils," Jack pointed out, raising an eyebrow. Y/N sighed.

"Yeah, well they ran out of room and just started throwing kids anywhere they could," she grumbled. He nodded as if this made sense, but he wore an angry expression similar to hers. He went toe move slightly, but groaned at the sudden pain it brought. She watched him with concern, waiting for him to calm down, unsure of how to comfort him.

"We should probably clean those," she said, receiving a confused look from him. "The wounds, you should probably let me take care of them." He gave a slight laugh and she furrowed her eyebrows at him.

"You askin' me to take my shirt off?" He smirked. Her face went red immediately and he laughed again, but his hands moved to unbutton his shirt. She gave her attention to wetting a rag and preparing some fabric while he did so. When she looked up, ready to clean his cuts, she found that her heart was beating considerably fast in her chest. He was lying there, shirtless. And, yes, there were cuts and bruises splattered on his abdomen and chest, but he was beautiful. And she was staring. And he had noticed. Embarrassed, she gently cleaned any dried blood and caked dirt that was resting on his skin.

"What's your name?" He asked while she worked.

"Y/N," she answered absentmindedly. He nodded, letting the silence settle between them. Eventually, she had him sit up so she could wrap the worst section on his body. His stomach had a long gash moving across it, surrounded by blacks, blues, and purples. Once she had secured the bandage, she started to clean up everything, standing up to take her supplies back to where they belonged.

"Ya think these kids'll survive without the food an' stuff I been bringin'?" She stopped, halted by his question. When she turned to face him she could see the slightly pained look in his eyes. She didn't say anything, but she could tell from how his expression changed that he knew exactly what she thought.

All of them were already dead.

__________

In a mere few weeks, Y/N and Jack became quite fond of each other - and everybody knew it. While he had been bed ridden, she had been the one to take care of him every day. After that, he continuously looked for her and made it a priority to spend time with her. At first, she'd been slightly annoyed. But he was nice and funny, and blindingly attractive. He was optimistic, at least around her, and it was refreshing.

He started to take notice of how different situations affected her and tried to help with her constant anxiety. He asked once why sometimes she started moving and didn't stop, and why she moved so quickly, too. She had stuttered out an explanation of how sometimes she just couldn't sit still. He had shuddered at her description of how her skin tingled and her body felt consistently out of place and uncomfortable.

One day, Jack had miraculously gotten his hands on a piece of paper and some charcoal. Y/N was beginning to get sick, so he spent the day looking after her. When she fell asleep, he began to draw her. From memory, he created a picture of her laughing. It was rare that she really laughed, but on a particularly good day he had told just the right joke, and she had giggled uncontrollably. When he was finished his drawing, he flipped the paper over and began to sketch an all too familiar landscape.

"Where's that?" Her voice startled him, thick with tiredness and slightly raspy. Her eyes were only half open, but she was looking at his sketch. He grinned slightly moving so that he was next to her and she could see the drawing better.

"That is Santa Fe," he answered. "It's this great ol' city in the west, way better than New York. There's people that care 'bout ya out there, and they do thing like plantin' crops an' swimming the Rio Grande. One day, I'm gonna find the money and buy a train ticket there."

"Hey, Jack?" He hummed in response, adding a few more details to his landscape. "When ya go, ya promise to take me with ya?" He looked down at her in surprise. She was closing her eyes and he was pretty sure she would be asleep again soon. She was paler than usual, and her face was sunken in. He knew that if he lifted the rough blanket from her body he would see how thin she'd become. Her breathing evened out quickly and he relished in the way her chest rose and fell.

"Yeah," he whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. "I'll take ya with me."

No one dared to wake Jack and Y/N, all the other children knew how little those two slept. And every single kid in the place was well aware of Y/N's worsening condition, and the toll it was taking on Jack. The only disruption Jack and Y/N's sleeping bodies received was someone spreading their blanket as much as possible to make sure they both got enough warmth.

When Y/N woke up in the middle of the night, Jack was sleeping next to her. She smiled softly at him, basking in the warmth their close proximity brought her. She pushed herself farther into his embrace, freezing when she heard the crinkling of paper. Carefully, she grabbed the drawing Jack had been working on. Even in the dim moonlight, she could tell that on the other side of his sketch of Santa Fe he had drawn her. She felt her cheeks go slightly red, but she smiled. She found the piece of charcoal and scribbled down a few words on the paper before folding it up and putting it in her pocket. Her sad smile was interrupted by a loud cough the shook her entire body. Clutching her chest, she fell asleep once more with his arms around her.

___________

"How'd you get thrown in here?" Jack asked while he laid a cold rag over Y/N's forehead. Normally, she would've tensed at his words, nervously avoiding the question. But she was too tired and weak to do anything but whisper an answer.

"I stole food." She coughed loudly and Jack visibly tensed up. "I was starvin', so I stole food." Jack's hands were clenched into fists and his brow was furrowed. His thoughts were racing through his head a million per second as he looked at her. She was sick, so very sick. And she was starving again, just has she had been before she'd been taken to the Refuge.

"When you get strong enough again," he whispered urgently, "we're gonna get out of here." She looked at him with wide eyes as she could see the gears turning in his head. "It's not too hard to escape, but you're going to be able to walk and jump to be able to do it."

"Go without me," she croaked.

"No, I'm not - "

"Jack. You deserve to live your life far away from this place. I'm not gettin' any better and I might never get better. You have to go without me."

"I'm not leaving you." His jaw was set and she could tell there was no changing his mind. He stood up to go finish his daily chores, a slight anger evident in his face. She waited until he was out of sight to allow the tears that had been gathering in her eyes to fall.

__________

Y/N was getting better. She was walking and she was breathing a bit better. She still coughed, but she looked healthier. Jack's excitement grew with every day that her condition improved. She still spent most of her time in bed, but she was quickly gaining strength. He thought she was due for a full recovery.

She was lying. With every step she took her body was in pain. Every cough rattled her bones and stabbed her chest. Each time she got out of bed she had to fight to breathe through the pain and exhaustion. But she needed him to think she was better, or he would never leave.

So she spent many long, painful days working to convince him and to dull the pain. Until one day, when Jack seemed to decide that she was strong enough. It was almost bed time and it was already dark out, but they were the only ones in the room. The day had been filled with particularly hard chores and everyone else was still out working. Jack had insisted that Y/N stayed in bed to save her strength.

"C'mon," he said, walking swiftly over to the window. They were lucky enough not to have bars on one of their windows. She made her way over to him as quickly as she could, trying to conceal her heavy breathing. She looked down to find that there was a large of pile of something that they would land in if they jumped out. She couldn't tell what it was in the dark, but she couldn't help but think how lucky they'd gotten with the entirety of their escape plan.

Jack climbed out the window and dropped the ground, hitting the pile with a soft thump. He smiled up at her encouragingly, holding out his arms.

"Okay, all ya have to do is jump. I'll catch ya." His voice was soft and comforting, but she still hesitated. Her hand slipped into her pocket, the tension in her shoulders leaving slightly once she felt the paper she had stashed in there. Carefully, she climbed onto the windowsill and jumped. She held her breath to keep from screaming on the way down. Jack's arms wrapped around her before she even hit the pile. He was holding her close to him, and for the first time in a long time she felt safe.

She looked up at him slowly to find him staring down on her. On impulse, he leaned down and crashed his lips on hers. His lips were warm, she found, and softer than she'd expected. His arms wrapped protectively around her waste brought a sense of security. When they pulled away they were both breathing loudly. He went in for another kiss, but she stopped him.

"You'll get sick," she warned him. He smirked slightly.

"I don't care," he mumbled. His lips were on hers again and his grip on her tightened. She pushed him away this time, attempting to catch her breath.

"We have to leave." Her voice was hoarse when she spoke, and her chest was heaving up and down to get some air. Immediately, Jack grabbed her hand and started to run. She let him pull her along, trying desperately to keep up. There was no possible way she could mask how hard breathing was becoming for her. Her whole body ached and her lungs burned, but she kept going. She kept going because she knew he needed to be very far away from that horrid place. But the running was taking a toll. She hadn't moved that much in months, not just since she'd gotten sick, but since she'd gotten caught and sent to the refuge. Everything hurt. She could feel it happening, she'd been waiting for it to happen. She hated that it was happening.

"Jack," she gasped. "Jack, I need to - we need to.... stop. We have to rest. I have to..." She was fighting to get control over her breathing, but it was no use. Jack pulled her into an empty alley and sat her down so that she was leaning against a wall. He crouched in front of her, fear dancing in his eyes.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" He questioned cautiously. There was a lump in his throat and a sob that was threatening to come out. She shook her head no, coughing violently. He sat down next to her, taking her into his arms. Her pulse was getting slower and her breathing was fading away. He kissed her the top of her head, taking in a shaky breath. "I love you, ya know that?" He couldn't bring himself to speak any higher than a faint whisper. "I need you. Ya can't leave me now. We were gonna run away together, remember?"

"I love you too," She breathed out. "I'm sorry, Jack. I'm so, so sorry." He could feel her chest stop moving up and down. He could feel her heartbeat stop. He looked down to find her eyes closed and her face peaceful. She could've been sleeping. That made him cry harder. Because, this time, she wasn't going to wake up. They weren't going to get to have anymore late night talks. He was never going to get to see her laugh again. He wasn't going to have her by his side every day. Without her, he didn't have anyone. He let himself hold her tighter, silently sobbing into her hair. He froze when he heard a paper crinkle.

Slowly, he reached into her pocket and pulled out that paper she had stashed there. It was the drawing he'd done of Santa Fe. He turned it over to look at the sketch of her. In the bottom right corner, she had scribbled down four words.

"Take me with you."

#newsies #jack kelly x reader #jack kelly imagine #jack kelly #newsies imagine #newsies x reader #amber can kinda write #the refuge #sad #death #it's bad but meh #i didn't proofread this #sorry

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sacha-fallen-human · 4 years

Text

I’ll Bring You with Me

Prompt by and for the fireplace contest, done by myself.

Closing my car’s door behind me, I took place in the driver’s seat, dropping a box next to me. My hair was sticking to my face and I was so glad that my hair wasn’t dyed yet. I don’t want to stain my car with red spot. I took a moment to relax, breathing deeply and listening to the pitter-patter of the rain. The truth is I love rain, it’s so powerful and it make me realise each time that I’m alive. I always want to just go and dance in it, sing about it, but I can’t afford to get even more wet right now. Maybe another day.

I finally bring my attention to the box. My parents were doing their spring cleaning and they found a bunch of my things, apparently forgotten there when I moved. To be honest I don’t think they are really important but it gave me a reason to visit my parents and to steal one or two of their muffin. I just wish That the rain would have waited until I could get the box inside of my car. It’s all wet and I kind of worry about the things inside of it.

I don’t actually know what is inside. It’s a mystery to be solved soon, but my mom looked very happy with herself. I consider starting my car and driving back to my apartment before opening it for half a minute but I’m far from a patient person. My parents’ house is on the other side of the street; I realise I could have just stayed inside in the first place. It would probably have been far more comfortable but I don’t want to risk getting the box in a worse state. Also because I’m lazy and don’t want to run back there but yeah.

I reach to open the box, ready to finally know what my parent found when my phone start to ring. “fucking hell” I say softly to myself. I reach for it and check who is calling. It’s my sister. I seriously consider answering but then I decide against it. I refuse the call, text her I’m busy right now, to tell me by text if she need anything or I’ll call her later.

I wait almost one minute for her to answer but she doesn’t so I pick a song to play softly in the background, not too much volume just enough to fill the silence, then place my phone on the dashboard. Now that that’s dealt with, time to bring my focus back on the mysterious box. I love resolving mysteries and I can’t help but smile as I open the lid. Inside of it sit a deep blue book, a game of tarot, a black notebook, three… no four sketch book, some pictures and a bunch of other things. I stare in wonder all of them. I take the blue book and delicately drop it in my laps as I read the title out loud, with a small voice; “They both die at the end”.

I take a moment to just look at the front page. After a moment the silence break. “This book was so great!” I suddenly freeze in my track, and I can feel a shiver down my spin. Because it definitely wasn’t me who spoke. That voice is a bit more singsong and a lot less rough than mine, yet it feels so familiar.

I turn around sharply, looking at the back seats and there I see something I was not ready to witness. There sat someone who look exactly like what I used to when I was a teenager. Wait, actually it’s literally a younger me. We have the same face, his hair is a pale blue and he’s wearing a big hoodie that engulf him. He looks like he just heard my most embarrassing secret, as if he knew something about me that I didn’t. I stare in his eyes for a while, holding my breath.

“Hey.” He said to me, looking like he was talking to a frighten animal. I mean to be honest, I was actually scared. It’s not everyday your younger self materialises in your car. I broke our eye contact to touch with precaution his legs. My hand passed trough so I finally let myself take a breath. I can deal with hallucination or ghost, but a real human who look like what I used to and who broke in my car would have been something else.

“I have a lot of question but first is; Are you here to kill me?” I said looking at him suspiciously.

He had the audacity to laugh at me. Gosh, I used to look like that when I laughed? “Don’t worry, I could never kill someone as beautiful as me” Did he flirt or was that a joke? Probably both knowing myself. “But seriously, don’t worry about the fact I’m here. I’m just…” he moved his hands as if that would help him find the answer. “A manifestation of your nostalgia. Yeah that sound good. Also you should stop pulling all-nighters non-stop. This is what happen when you don’t take care of yourself.” I was about to protest saying that I had things to finish that could not wait but then I realised I was talking to myself. So first; He already knew. Second; He was right. “Like seriously I can’t believe you ended up like that. You used to tell everyone to start a healthy sleep schedule. What happened?”

I just shrugged, unable to create an answer that would satisfy myself. He seemed to understand it and just smiled a bit sadly at me. “Anyway, I guess I should just accept this adventure and keep doing what I was doing or…?” I let the words hanging knowing that he would finish with what he wanted if my first guess was wrong.

“I think it would be more like a journey since you won’t have to fight anything or risk your life but yeah, just…keep looking at the things in the box.” He said smiling to me and bringing my attention back to the book in my laps with a nod of his head. “Remember how much this book affected you? You really wanted to live like every moment was the last after reading it.”

I smiled to myself, turning the page slowly, not even reading the words. I was just reminiscing about the old day. For a whole week after finishing it, all I wanted to do was find a stranger at my school and do something, anything. To just be free to do what I wanted with someone new. I never got around to it, unfortunately. It did change how I saw things in life though. I had no time to hate myself, no time to bother with people that weren’t interesting enough or would be bad for me. I didn’t have time to care about who like me and who didn’t. Sure, it still scared me and I couldn’t just change my whole mindset in one week but I just decide that I would try not to change my actions in functions of the “haters”. I don’t owe anyone my precious time. Except my mom because, let’s be honest, I wouldn’t have any time in the first place without her.

“I don’t think I managed to do that as much as I would have like to but I don’t think I did bad either.” I said softly to the weird passenger in my car. I heard a small breathy laugh coming from behind me. I looked at him and told him with a smile I couldn’t repress; “What? You think you’ll do better?” we both shared a smile at that. The way he smiles was identical to mine except for the fact that I didn’t have my “vampire” teeth anymore. It’s still weird to see myself sitting in the back seat of my car, don’t get me wrong, but this wasn’t as weird as it probably should be. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep and the fact I’ve always kind of talked to myself that gave me a strange sense of normality in this moment.

He stretched to look in the box, curiosity clear on his face. He looked at me like he just discovered a treasure. Maybe it was. He spoke with such joy in his voice. “Do you still keep a bullet journal? It was so fun and we were so good! I wonder if you do it a different way now.” I smiled back at him, a bit sad. The thing is, I didn’t anymore. I had kept it up for a long time but then I stopped at one point in my life. I can’t remember why exactly.

I reached into the box to take the notebook and started to look at pages and pages of planning and drawings. They were filled with everything that would go trough my head at that time. I didn’t write about my feelings in it or anything (except two page about one of my crush. After that I had decided to never do others like that again since I had to look at them even after the rejection). I had a lot of portrait of myself, calendar and ideas in it. I looked at my younger self and said looking in his eyes; “I guess I could try to do that again soon.” He gave me a look. You know that look when you just know that the person you’re talking to is probably not going to do it. My mom used to give me the same ones when she would ask me to do some chores. “I’ll go buy a notebook on my way back home.” He finally smiled to me again.

After a moment of content silence, me reading more pages and him looking at a couple walking under the same umbrella a bit further down the road, I closed the journal and putted it on the dashboard close to my phone. I looked at what was left in my box, my new friend looking over my shoulder. The tarot game was what caught my attention.

“Oh my god. Remember how cool it was to tell people you could read their future? It was super helpful to get friends. We only did readings for us when we were crushing on someone. You should do a reading later tonight.” He said while sitting back in his seat. I was about to take one of my sketchbook but I decided against it.

“hey, we’ve been here for a while we should probably get back to my apartment now.” His smile dropped a bit. “We can keep looking trough my things then, ok?” I look back at him and he smile at me with that same damn smile he had on when he appeared earlier. I gave him one back and start the engine. I change the music and turn the volume up.

On the way home, I’ll stop looking behind me. I’ll sing along with the music, hearing another voice scream the lyrics with me. I’ll stop on my way to buy a new bullet journal, picking the one with the brightest color. To make it a clear contrast with my first one. I’ll go back in my car and look in the mirror to find blue eyes watching me in wonder.

Later, I’ll be back home and when I finally look behind me I’ll be alone in the car. No friend or hallucination smiling at me from the back seat. I mean, I guess there never was someone. I’ll give a sad smile toward the space he use to occupy and then bring the box inside my home. I’ll look trough all of the sketchbook, comparing with how my art look now. I’ll start making the first page of my new journal, after finding all of my pens. I’ll understand just how much I’ve grown and I’ll fall in love a bit more with myself, my heart filling with pride and love for the person I was and who I became. I’ll put the pictures that were sitting in the bottom of the box on my fridge, near the drawings of my nephew. I’ll try on these big earrings that I used to wear. Maybe I’ll go to sleep with my cheeks wet but this time not because of someone who broke my heart; Just because I was overwhelmed with good feelings for the first time in a while. I’ll be hugging my pillow and saying in the quiet of the night these words; “I’m sorry I left you behind.”

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