#Another one of my sketches I finally colored

[rkiveinmarvel]

plums and peaches* - bucky barnes des. pissing bucky off is one thing, making him fall is the same thing. notes. this is highkey inspired because of this: INSPO. fluffy! bucky barnes being emotionally constipated person he is, steve and sam knowing there's more depth, avengers living together

hello! i have risen, baby girl! this is just a fluffy story since thunderbolts* is around the corner and i finished my second semester with flying colors, i did not proofread on this one, i'm sorry but hey! it fun writing for my favorite congressman bucky barnes. also, the music opinion that characters made here is purely out of fiction! (don't hate me please, i listen to those artists too) this is for you, @vibraniumqueen, you saw the vision!

w.c: 1.5k

When James Buchanan Barnes moved into the Avengers compound, his adjustments didn’t come easy—From Tony Stark still wary of his presence, Peter Parker still doesn’t shut up about his metal arm, Sam being an ass to him, and then, there’s you. Something James doesn’t want to get close with, hold with, and even be a part with. He truly believes that he will just keep things casual, because everything you do pisses him off. 

You were arrogant, cocky, and proud. Everything that the 40s people don't have, so, him meeting you was everything he didn’t wish to do. However, along the line of working in missions and tasks, he finds you useful: You may be arrogant but insightful, cocky but you have something to boast about, and you might be proud because you do have something to be smart about—and that pissed him off more. Yeah, sure, Sam is an ass to him but you take the cake.

And yet cakes are sweet too.

His hate started a year ago, a year where Tony and Steve almost had the Avengers break-up. He saw you, ignoring every word that comes out in everyone’s mouth and just sketching on the table. At first, he thought maybe you were some kind of a secretary, taking tabs of everyone’s opinion. To which surprised Bucky when Steve asked for your opinion on the decision to keep him in the team, ah, so, you’re an Avenger as well.

James was welcomed softy by Wanda and Steve, guess they bond over the HYDRA’s footprints—next was Clint, Natasha, Sam, and so on, everybody was being kind and patient with him, well, except Stark which he understands—but what he doesn’t get was you.

“Buck. Stop glaring.” He couldn’t stop, no, he can, he just doesn’t want to. You, Sam, Steve, Bucky, and Maria are currently debating who got the best music of all times. It was a harmless teasing and debate. But Bucky, being a man of 40s, stands tough on his music taste.

Well, that same goes for you.

He was defending As The Time Goes By by Dooley Wilson—while you defend The Smiths, though yours is more on the joking side, the poor former Winter Soldier did not take it likely. As you catch his glares, you can’t help but tease him more.

“I’m just saying, look, whatever you guys have in the 40s that ain’t me.” You laughed. “Besides, the Smiths are much better than Dooley.” It was a joke, really. Steve chuckled and Bucky looked like someone stole his cookie. “Stop glaring, Barnes. I might think you like me if you don’t stop.” You smiled at him, at last he looked away. 

As he finally has one reason why you piss him off.

Another was when during a mission, you set off another course and ignored the protocols which pissed him and the team. Despite the other courses, the mission went well, so the team didn’t mind, well except Bucky. Once you, Bucky, Natasha, and Clint enter quinjet, he snapped.

“What were you thinking?” He grunted a little deep. He knew he was barely adjusting to the team but what you did almost jeopardized everything. “What?” You had asked, as you knew he’s getting fired up again. “What were you thinking breaking inside the control room alone, we have protocol. Clint was in the control room and you’re supposed to be with Natasha while I handle the information room.” Clint and Natasha just shared a glance as you nodded at Bucky’s words. Oh, damn, he hates your cocky attitude.

“What’s bothering your cyborg ass, it’s done. We got the thing, no one got hurt, boom and bam.” As you shrugged him off. “Also, next time you wanna say you like and care about me, take me to dinner first, I’ll appreciate it more.”

Clint and Natasha sniffle a laugh as you threw the capri-sun to Clint, Natasha, and Bucky—and yes, you intended to give him the Wild Cherry. 

This is like only the nth reason why you piss him off.

A month from now it’ll be a mission that requires engaging an intel in a ball. Well as far everyone is concerned, there would be a fake couple act—it was Bucky and Natasha with Sam and you. “Why do we need to go as a couple, we can just ask Wanda to hypnotise them and we’re done.” You said in the meeting room as Wanda nodded with the suggestion. “We need Wanda in South Korea with me and Dr. Cho.” said Vision, to which Wanda replied: “Yeah, me and Vis will explore Seoul too.”

“Buy me an album, please.” You chuckled. “Well, there’s that, we should have matching rings, Wilson. We got a month to prepare, so, please can I go?” You stood up.

“Ah, Buck, didn’t you say you’re going to the city—Think you can give Buck a ride?” Steve turned to you, Bucky considered leaving Steve in the line. But you shrugged it off and nodded: “Let’s go, pretty boy.” As you left the meeting room, Sam smirked as Bucky replied: “Not a fucking word.” Steve smiled and chuckled. “You two are acting like cat and mouse for a year now, might wanna try hanging out.” Bucky sighed and stood up as Natasha continued—”You two argue a lot, you two might be the next Pepper and Tony.” That left a chuckle in the team, as he just left the room.

In your car, he sat in the passenger seat as you drove in silence. 

For 1 Minute.

“Can we change the music?” He asked. 

“What do you mean, it’s The Smiths.”

“I know, that’s why I  want you to change it. I’m  not a fan.”

You scoffed and looked at him for a split second. “Excuse you, you’re in my car, Optimus Prime.”

“Such hospitality.”

“I know right, I might get an award.” Oh, you do know, how to piss him off.

At the city, Bucky got dropped off in a library-opening but before you could drive away, you asked what time he could be picked up. “I’ll be here until 1900, what time should I pick you up?” He hesitated; didn’t speak.

“Look, I’m tryna be nice here, because Steve said we fight too much and the upcoming mission needs you, Nat, me, and Sam workin’ together so, come on, cyborg.” You said truthfully, as he just nodded. “8PM? But can you sto—nevermind, I’ll wait for you here, 8PM.” 

“Okay, don’t drown in books.” You said as you drove away.

At exactly 8PM—he was there in the parking lot, as he entered the car, he just sighed. “Had fun reading, kiddo?” You had asked, chuckling, as he just grunted and looked away. “Shut it.” Truthfully, he did have a great time, but usually when he reads during times where Steve or Sam drives him—Steve buys him plums for memory and sometimes he does that himself. 

After beating the record of 1 minute silence—it stretched into 10 minutes until you finally spoke. “Can you reach me the bag from the back seat? The brown one?” As he got the bag and was about to hand it to you, you simply replied. “It’s yours.”

He side-eyed you as you spoke. “I know I’m an asshole but…I observe, Barnes.” As you turn the car, he opens the paper bag and there inside are his plums. “They help with memories, right?” You said casually and still eyes on the road but Bucky felt so warm in his cheeks, not that he admits it but the softness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Thanks.” You glance at him with a soft smile as you return your eyes to the road. “Careful with the soft voice. You don’t want to fall in love with me.” You joked as you and him finally shared a soft laugh, but it was there. “Don’t worry. That won’t be a problem.”

The time for the mission finally came along and you and Sam are currently trying to act as a couple when in reality you and Sam are close knit. Your laughs and cringes are visible and heard in the safehouse. As the party is about to get close, you catch Bucky having a hard time doing his necktie. 

“Mr. Augustine, need some help?” You had asked in his made-up name to which he just chuckled. You got close and fixed his tie. “You okay?” He asked. You nodded as you smiled. “Yeah, it’s just weird–I mean, why do we have to pretend, we’re the Avengers–it’s a stupid get up, we could act like party helpers and keep it casual, and here we are–matching rings and wearing fancy clothes.” You smiled at him as you finished tying his tie.

In the brief moment, you two stared at each other. “I best get going, I don’t want Mr. Benson is waiting for me.” You chuckled also using Sam’s made-up name. “I’ll see you around.” He replied.

“Didn’t take you to bite back but…I’ll see you around, Mr. Augustine.” As you left, his phone rang—he answered it as Steve asked for updates and current situations, Bucky listened and heard everything but before the two hung up, another conversation would be present some other time.

“Got any more updates? Or you and The Smiths lover are arguing again?”

A chuckle left Bucky’s lips towards Steve’s question as he replies: “Actually, Steve…I have a problem.”

Yep, definitely, you take the cake.

⚘ masterlist 1 | 2 | 3 ₊˚⊹♡ taglist: @yesiamthatwierd, @bitchimasnake-sss, @cjand10, @reemoony, @vibraniumqueen

[sarahreesbrennan]

hi, first of all i want to say i love you and your books so much. im so excited for all hail chaos next year! im currently on a mission to obtain all the english editions of in other lands. there is a certain cover that sometimes pops up in my searches but only as a stock photo and ive never seen an actual physical copy of this cover in my internet deep dives. the cover has a black background and a sketch like drawing of white angel wings. the title is in the center and is in white but each word has a different colored shadow. below the title in smaller font is "a novel" and below that is your name in blue, white, and yellow. i was wondering if you know if this cover actually exists or if its just an early concept cover?

I love your mission! Thank you for your sweet words.

And you have not been led astray! That was the cover of the ARC (advance reader’s copy) of In Other Lands, a placeholder for the final cover. I’ve signed them, but I don’t own one - you might find it on second-hand sites. But if not, at least you know it was never intended to be a Final Cover.

There was another cover which was almost the final cover, totally different from either the final cover or the placeholder cover, that none but me and a few others ever saw. Sometimes I think about all the bits of making a book people never see…

[virtuallyindubitable]

[wasyago]

tinkering :)

[imjustspacetrash]

Some fanart for a fanfic that I love! Honest Man by girlpigeon. I'm obsessed with their fics (babe wake up, they just dropped a new fic for serirei week 2024).

Here we have my visual interpretation of Reigen's sister and brother-in-law! Love how they are written in the fanfic, they are so canon to me now, this is how I imagen the Reigen Family to be. And I love the Reigen's dyed hair detail!, I headcanon that his original color is his manga colors.

My Carrd

[naniwatig3r]

CONTOUR LINES (18+)

Mingyu x artstudent!Femreader

Summary: You’ve finally broken up with your boyfriend Mingyu. Ignoring him has been hard, but you were finally at peace. But he had other plans, as he shows up to the figure drawing class you T.A…. And as the model.

Warnings: Unexplained breakup (im lazy lol), angst, cute fluff sometimes, art school stress, public nudity, public unprotected penetrative sex (no one is around though!), quickie

a/n: this was a idea i got while messing around with my friend who has a thing for mingyu, lol.

Word count: uhhh, around 7k ? I can’t remember 😅

————————

Another miss call.

Great, you thought, the tenth missed call from your ex boyfriend Mingyu this week.

It’s been about a month since you broke up with your ex, Kim Mingyu. It was an odd pairing in the first place. You met him coincidentally in the quad the beginning of the year, as you sat at the edge of the school fountain. Your sketchbook open, as you drew the scenery and people around you. A normal activity you did as an arts student.

You were clearly in the zone, drawing the fold in a random college student’s arm, before a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Whoa, you can draw.”

Your eyes snap up, seeing a towering figure, completely blocking your view. No shit, you thought.

“Yeah, I guess.” You say plainly, hoping your short answer would deter this guy. But then the sunlight is back on the page you’re drawing, and you feel his warm presence sit right next to you. Maybe he’s just sitting down to sit down, so you try and finish your life drawing of the current student, but they were gone. Probably going to their next class.

Huffing, you still for a moment to put your pencil down.

“I wish I could draw like that,” You hear, as you glance to your side. Furrowing your eyebrows in irritation as the man leans over to stare directly into your sketchbook. “You’re a really good drawer.” He says in awe.

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” You say curtly, as he continues to stare at your sketches like he’s at a museum. These sketches were nothing compared to a Degas or something, yet he stared at them like it was, his brown eyes flickering around in interest.

He clears his throat, as he looks up to meet your eyes. He smiles, a toothy one where you notice how sharp his canines were. Cute.

He pulls his sleeve up from his wrist to his elbow, holding his large hand out, “Mingyu. Kim Mingyu.” He says, introducing himself. You nod, reluctantly shaking his hand, his grip tight and strong.

“Y/n.” You say back shortly, eyeing him, wondering how long this tall man was going to bother you.

He lets go of your hand, as he adjusts his position to turn more towards you. One leg over the other, leaning forward. His bangs falling so perfectly across his eyebrow, that it made you narrow your eyes. It’s crazy, people like this seriously exist huh?

“Do you do art or something?” No shit.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m a fine arts major.” You respond, giving him a strained polite smile. It felt like you had to, the way this guy has been beaming at you like a puppy as you give the driest replies.

He grins, “Whoa, no way. Thats cool,” He praises, “I’m—“

The rest of the meet cute didn’t matter.

After this, you kept bumping into him, coincidence you thought at first, but thinking back… he had no reason to be near the art school area of the campus.

He always asked to see your sketchbook, or whatever was in your portfolio folder as you tried to get to your studio. Even helping you carry your supplies and folders inside, and once he learned where you worked he came with iced coffee when he could.

At 3 am, he’d lay on the floor of your messy studio, watching you as you mix another color on your palette. Your sweatshirt pushed to your elbows, paint on your hands and face as you work on the gigantic canvas for your final.

“You don’t have to be here, you know,” You say a bit softly, your eyes tired despite your multiple energy drinks. “It must be boring to watch me throw paint for the last few hours.”

He shakes his head, sitting up as he looks at you with his puppy like eyes. “No, I like it. You’re so focused…” He trails, “I didn’t think art would be this hard.”

You glare at him for that remark, making him immediately tread back. His mouth gaping open and closing like a fish, “Ah! Not like that it’s easy — just that you’re so passionate you know?” He explains, throwing his hands around.

Rolling your eyes, you put your brush back into the muddy cup of water. “Why? Engineering not doing it for you?” You ask lazily, as you pull your claw clip out of your hair. Massaging your scalp from the tension.

Mingyu’s eyes focused on you, his cheeks slightly flushing. Eyes roving over how strands of your hair effortlessly frame your face. He clears his throat, “Uh, no. I like it. I’ve always been good at studying, and I get the material so,” He says, as he scratches his head.

“But I guess, it’s different watching you. Your eyes are different when you’re drawing, painting, sculpting. Whatever.” He says quietly.

“Different?” You muse, standing up to stretch your legs. Mingyu following instinctively, his tall frame dwarfing you.

He nods, “Mhm, yeah. I thought art was just a major for people who didn’t want to do anything, but getting to know you…” he says, as he follows you to your studio table. As you open the most recent energy drink you got from the vending machine. “You just don’t stop. Like you’re meant to do it.” He breathes.

His genuine words make you raise an eyebrow, turning to him. You give him a small smile, making his heart rate jump. “Yeah? It’s like you, I think.” You say, taking a sip of that battery acid of a drink. “I’ve just been doing this since forever. Natural to keep going.” You say nonchalantly, but Mingyu looks at you like you’re a living genius.

“Thats whats so cool,” He gushes, “You’re just made to do this.” He says, as he glances at your current work in progress. A large canvas with pleasing colors, his eye being drawn to the right areas. The beautifully rendered figure, framed with all the right strokes.

He looks back at you, with such an adoration you think it’s hallucinations from doing so many allnighters.

“Ah,” he starts, as he moves his long legs to shuffle through his bag, pulling out some tupperware. “I forgot, I was making uh, some dinner earlier and I had leftovers.” He lies, knowing full well he made it for you. He turns around, opening the tupperware to reveal a lunch box of different side dishes and protein. It could rival any meal inspo on pinterest, as he even carefully cut out seaweed to make cute faces.

You snicker, making Mingyu’s cheeks pink. “Leftovers huh?” You say, as you grab the lunchbox from him. Your fingers brushing over his, a welcome warmth from the cold air conditioning of the studio. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I was just gonna make some ramen.”

“Yeah no problem,” He strains, smiling. “You need energy to keep on going right? At least eat well if you’re gonna sacrifice your sleep.”

You take a bite, and even though it was cold, you nod in approval at the taste. The annoyingly large man could cook. Your reaction makes Mingyu grin, as you can see shamelessly how much that did to his ego.

“Still, you should go you know?” You say, as you remember Mingyu talking about his week a few days ago as you painted. “Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”

Oh? He doesn’t focus on the fact that you’re asking him to go. Only that you remembered his schedule. He grins, “You remembered huh?”

You roll your eyes, “Of course I did. You told me.” You say, your own cheeks reddening from how embarrassed you felt from Mingyu’s reaction. Why was he so excited?

He shakes his head, “It’s fine, I was reviewing earlier. It’s in the afternoon anyways.”

You finish the lunchbox, washing it down with your energy drink before going to pick up a new large paint brush. “Fine by me then,” you sigh, not bothering to argue with him. It was weird the first time he accompanied you on an allnighter, but Mingyu’s presence became a normal occurrence since then.

And there he was, sitting obediently like a dog next to you as you continued painting. Your playlist ending hours ago, as the only sounds are the strokes of your brush, and the breathing of both of you.

It was like this for a while, until near the end of the year. This time, you were running out of steam.

Maybe it was all the all nighters the whole year, or the fact you got sick right before finals, but you were stuck in your studio once more. Slaving away as you work on your third painting of the night, trying to get your exhibition finished before sunlight.

You hear the sound of the door opening. He had his own key now — you copied one at one point since he always was knocking. Mingyu coming in with late night take out in one hand, clad in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, ready to tackle the night with you.

You don’t even bother looking behind you, his familiar presence and cologne already telling you who it is. “Hey,” He says softly, putting the food down as he notices your tired state. It was like you were running on fumes, the amount of empty redbulls and monsters around your studio telling him all he needed to know.

You grunt, “Yeah, hey.” You say tiredly, as you wipe your face with the back of your hand. Paint smearing on your cheek. Mingyu comes over with a napkin from the takeout container, huffing as he wipes your cheek with it.

“Whens the last time you took a break?” He asks, a bit worried. Despite hanging out with you for so long, he wouldn’t say he knew anything about art. But he knew you. And the way your wrist movements against the canvas were sluggish, and the way your eyebrows furrowed as the strokes didn’t land and look the way you wanted… he knew you were at your limit.

“Doesn’t matter, I have another painting after this.” You say roughly, “Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I should have painted when I was sick. At least worked on the concepts and colors so I didn’t have to figure it out right now.” You rant, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth.

Mingyu frowns, “No, y/n. What about a fifteen minute break? I got burgers, it’ll help.” He says, but your face isn’t budging, like the strict deadlines for the paintings.

You curse, “God, Mingyu, I can’t stop. All the fucking pieces look like shit, if I stall any longer I’ll never finish this ass of an exhibition.” You say shakily, as you haphazardly throw your brush into the water cup, the muddy water splashing out. You grab another brush to pick up a new color.

He looks around the 10 other pieces littered around the room drying, he doesn’t get it, and he never would. They all looked great, cohesive despite your protests. “Y/n, they look great. You gotta take a break you know? Maybe it’ll help. Maybe your eyes will like, reset or something. You’ve been looking at this painting for hours.” He says, trying to reason.

You don’t listen, as you flick your wrist harshly to create a quick line of color.

clack!

You wince, dropping your brush to clatter on the floor. Your wrist acting up at the worst time, as you curse under your breath. Mingyu’s hands go up instinctively to hold your wrist, holding it still.

“God, now my wrist is flaring up too. Great, just what I need!” You curse bitterly, your head down.

Mingyu holds your wrist gently, despite your angry state you don’t push him away as he gingerly inspects your wrist. “Hey, come on. Lets take a break, and then we can wrap your hand alright?” He says softly, trying to coax you.

He leans down to see your hidden face, and it breaks his heart. Hot tears welling in your eyes from stress, frustration, and the impending deadline.

He doesn’t think twice, leaning down to hold you into an embrace, pulling you off your stool into his arms. Tight, the tips of your shoes barely grazing the floor. You can’t help but cry into his shoulder, “God, why am I so bad? I can’t show anyone any of this,” You sob, as Mingyu rubs your back. His grip tightening around you, holding you close as you basically collapse into his arms.

“Hey, y/n, you’ve just been working too long. Lets take a break alright? It’ll look better once you rest your eyes a bit, I promise.” He coos, “I’ve got some burgers and sweet potato fries, even convinced them to give me extra —“

“Mingyu, why are you always here?” You ask bluntly, choking back your tears. Through the whole year you’ve been tolerating him getting closer. First, random conversations when you bumped into each other on campus, then visiting the art school, coming to your studio, staying to keep you company. You never once tried to push him away, but you didn’t understand how he hasn’t been turned off yet. Your all nighters, your insecurities, the way you reject his invitations to campus parties and events to work. It was all a mystery, especially as you crash out in his arms, over some acrylic and oil on canvas. This must look pathetic to him.

His eyes are a bit panicked at the question, “I uh, do you not want me to be?” He asks reluctantly, still holding you close.

You sniff, your hand against his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie into your fist.

“No, I just... Thank you.” You say quietly into his chest, and Mingyu felt his head spin. You could definitely hear it, he thought, the way his heart was pounding out his chest. How you relied on him, telling him to stay. If it wasn’t for the fact you were leaning on him to stay up, he’d probably melt into a puddle on the floor.

Mingyu takes you to the table, helping you sit down on one of the comfier chairs. A foldable one with a pillow he brought at one point, so he could watch you comfortably. He boasted once — y/n look! Found this by the dumpster!

You let out a deep sigh as you sit down, Mingyu bending down to his knees to look at you eye level. A hand to your cheek as you close your eyes tiredly. “Hey, you okay?” He asks, searching your face.

You nod, “Yeah, um, sorry,” You sigh, “I’m just — I’m just stressed. I didn’t mean to have a breakdown in front of you.” You say apologetically, embarrassed by it. But he shakes his head, not affected by it. In fact, it probably caused him to fall harder, seeing how hard you work.

“Don’t apologize,” He says, pushing strands of your hair back. You look up at him, straight into his brown eyes. The way he looks at you so fondly, worried, that his bottom lip juts out slightly as he observes you. The way his fingers felt along your cheek, how he’s warmed you up in the cold room, brought takeout for you.

Fuck, how his hair is tousled under the hood, and the fact his face was a sight for sore eyes after looking at your paintings all day. Something with actual 3d planes staring at you, instead of flat canvas. Maybe it was the all nighters, the fact you’re on multiple energy drinks on an empty stomach, or that Mingyu is there for you.

You lean forward, shutting your eyes shut as you push your lips against his.

It’s warm, soft… might even get lost in it if—

You pull back after a second, as you see Mingyu’s wide eyes.

Oh fuck, did you read this wrong? Shit, at least you can blame it on lack of sleep—

A pair of lips crash into yours again, this time, you part yours as Mingyu’s warm lips mold into yours. Its warm, and comforting and everything nice, as you grab his collar to pull him closer. Making him stumble forward as he holds onto the edge of the chair to steady himself close to you.

You let out a soft breath as Mingyu snakes his free hand around to the small or your back, pushing you close as possible to him. Mingyu compensating for your lack of energy with his, as he kisses you deeply, something he’s always wanted to do. Every since he watched you draw random people at that campus fountain.

He pulls back as you pathetically try to chase his lips, as he kisses you chastely before speaking. “Y/n,” He breathes, “Fuck, you don’t know how long I wanted to do that.” He confesses, as he holds your face in his large hands.

You smile softly, “Mingyu, I—“

The box of charcoals clatter, as you accidentally drop it right next to the table of supplies. Sheepishly you bow at the students in class, not meaning to disrupt their focus.

You bend down to pick up the charcoal. What are you doing? It may be the third figure drawing class today, but dropping a box of pencils as you recount your days with Mingyu was horrible. Terrible.

Especially when you boasted to one of your friends as you shared a meal, Ah, Kim Mingyu? Thats over. Lets just focus on grad review.

You sigh, standing back up as you slide the box of art supplies on the table. Checking the time, you slide the notifications of Mingyu’s missed calls away. It was five minutes before class started, where the hell was the model?

And as if on cue, the other T.A. comes skitting towards you, pushing her glasses up as she avoids the boxes of supplies around the room. “Ah, Y/n—“ She starts, talking quietly to not cause alarm.

She stops in front of you, as you furrow your brows. Today the professor wasn’t in. As the consistent T.A., she trusted you to handle today with no substitutes. It wasn’t anything hard. You just helped set up the drawing horses and supplies, adjusted the lights and made sure the models were comfortable. It was easier especially when another T.A. was assigned to assist you today.

“Hm? What?” You ask, as you dust your hands.

She takes a deep breath, “Um, well, the model got food poisoning.” She starts. Leaning in so other students didn’t hear. “I just learned this right now, she’s like in the bathroom in the main hall throwing up like crazy.”

You frown, “What? Is she okay?” You say, straightening up, walking towards the front door grabbing your jacket off one of the stray art horse chairs.

She follows clumsily, “She’s fine! But she can’t model for this class. I know you’re in charge, but I panicked and just called whoever was on the emergency model list.”

You stop, causing the other T.A. to bump into your back, with a little squeak. A small what should have been insignificant memory flooding back.

“You’re TAing now? Seriously?” Mingyu asks lightly, as he fiddles with a loose strand of your sweater, the rough pads of his fingers pulling on it.

You slap his hand away disapprovingly, causing him to pout. “Yeah, just for figure drawing. I want to make a little money anyways, but working at the campus cafe is too time consuming.” You respond, as you continue to draw in your sketchbook. Outlining the foliage in front of you with your pen.

“Hm, what would that mean?” He asks, leaning forward to wrap an arm around your shoulder. Careful not to disturb your drawing, as he rests his chin on your closer shoulder. Watching you draw was his favorite past time nowadays.

“Just like, setting up, taking care of the figure drawing models. Things like that.” You respond absentmindedly.

“Models? Like, thats a job?” He asks, making you crack a smile. You forget how normal people knew nothing about art. You’re just glad he was openminded about basically everything.

You turn to look at him, “Yeah, the school hires people to pose for drawing. Its for studying.” You respond, as you tap your pen against the tip of his nose, where his beloved mole resided. Making him scrunch his nose, the corners of his lips turning up.

“Actually, I should write the emergency contact list. The professor updates every semester of models to contact if theres no shows, and the et cetera. I should just do it now so I don’t forget —“

“Add me on there then.”

You blink.

“Huh, what?” You say confused, looking at him with raised brows.

He straightens up, “You heard me. Add my number to that list. It sounds interesting,” He defends, his tone light.

You shake your head, smiling. “Mingyu, you don’t get it. You have to stand there naked, and do different poses every five to thirty minutes. Its not an easy thing to do.” You say, dismissing his words as nonsense. Sometimes he was too eager to try things just because they existed in your world.

Mingyu doesn’t falter. “Yeah I know. I just, it sounds cool. Also having a bunch of people drawing me, I don’t know… sounds nice. Also its like emergency contact right?” He says shrugging, “It’s not like it’ll actually happen. I know you’d never call me if it was an emergency, but just add me on it. If all models decide they’re not feeling it that day.” He suggests lightly.

You stare at him still in disbelief, narrowing your eyes. He scoffs, leaning forward to lean his forehead against yours as a challenge. A little goofy smile on his face, “What? Come on. Just add me to the list.”

The rational side of you knew this would never actually happen. Mingyu had no qualifications, and besides, there was a dozen other numbers to call before him. So you suck it up, sighing, writing his name down. Just for the sake that he’d shut up about it.

“Okay, fine.”

Your heart beats, eyes wide as you try to calm yourself. You didn’t want to release your anger against this girl for trying to fix the situation. It was your fault, really, in the first place to put his number on there. But this never was something that has happened before.

“Which number picked up?” You ask calmly, clasping your hands together as you focus on not exploding on your fellow T.A.

“Uh, just called the first one. He said he was on campus so he was down, and we only have five minutes till class—“

“Jesus, his name please?”

“Kim Mingyu.”

Oh fuck. Fuuuucckkkkk.

Mouth wide, and panicked eyes, you start to speak, before you hear the opening of the classroom door. You turn, and your face practically goes pale.

There he was — Kim Mingyu, just in a simple coat and pants. His eyes immediately landing on you. Its only been a month, but he cut his hair. Slightly shorter than you remember, as you tilt your head.

Stop it. You have to act normal.

You take a deep breath, trying to act professional. There was no time to question why the hell he’d even pick up and walk all the way here. Or why your heart was beating so fast, just looking at him.

“Um, escort him to the dressing room area.” You start, prying your eyes from Mingyu to the other T.A. “There should be a clean robe there too.” You inform, patting her arm as you beeline straight away from them.

You find a haphazardly stacked amount of newsprint, focusing on making all the edges match as you calm your heart. It’s fine, it really is.

For some reason Mingyu was interested in figure drawing modeling before. Maybe he just wanted to cross that off his bucket list, and had nothing to do with you.

The other T.A. comes back to stand beside you, “Is he comfortable?” You ask.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just seems a little inexperienced,” She responds, scratching her cheek. “He asked if he had to take all his clothes off, and I was like, huh? Yeah? But other that that—“

“Yeah, alright.” You interrupt dryly. “Thank you. I’ll just take over after this.” You say, as you grab the timer from the table.

You walk towards the center, clearing your throat as the art students look up. “Right, hi. Professor Kang isn’t here today, but don’t mind. Today will be quite an easy day.” You start, crossing your arms.

Your eyes immediately follow to the ruffle of the dressing curtain, as Mingyu walks out in a fluffy robe. Brown eyes meet yours, and for a second you think this will be fine. Until the corners of his lips turn up, into a toothy grin only you knew so well.

That motherfucker. Bucket list my ass, he said yes just to mess with you!

You turn away sharply, focusing back on the class. “The model today is Kim Mingyu.” You say shortly, before stepping off the small platform.

You gesture for Mingyu to walk to the center, your face stone cold as you watch him step onto the platform.

He clears his throat, “Do I take the robe off now?” He asks cluelessly.

Great, just show everyone you have no clue what you’re doing. If this was a few months ago, it’d be cute. But Mingyu standing hopelessly waiting for instructions was annoying you, to say the least.

You nod, and immediately, he undoes his robe and lets it fall to the floor.

You can’t help but stare. Your lips pressed into a thin line, your body tense. Stop stop stop! You couldn’t give him a reaction. As an artist, it was normal to see naked bodies. It wasn’t a sexual thing, especially in figure drawing. But Mingyu wasn’t just an old man or something. He was a conventionally attractive, tall, well built man. In more places than one.

“Oh shit, he’s hot.” The other T.A. whispers to you, covering her mouth. You bite back your embarrassment, as you just send her a glare for her unprofessional reaction.

It doesn’t help that other people around the room are pleasantly surprised by Mingyu, as I see pink dusting around people’s cheeks. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“Holy shit, a hot model. Is this real?”

“I thought we had a middle aged woman today. Bro… score!”

“I’ve never stared so closely.”

“Alright, warm ups. Ten one minute poses.” You say plainly, holding up the timer and pressing down on it. Immediately, Mingyu nods, springing into action.

His poses were something else. They were a bit awkward, as he stood there. First putting his hands on his hips, staring at the ground.

But he started getting more comfortable. After the ten one minute poses were up, the other T.A. Adds a stool to the platform for Mingyu to sit on.

“One pose, 15 minutes.” You say, setting the timer again.

This time instead of looking at the ground, wall, or ceiling, he stared straight at you. His eyes unwavering. The sight makes your mouth go dry, as the studio lights enhance Mingyu’s features perfectly.

His face framed by the little curl of his bang, light bouncing off his tanned skin as the definition of his muscles are on display. The way his large shoulders balance his proportions, and his skin smooth and tightly wrapped around his toned torso. He always was working out, and it seemed like he kept that up, as your eyes trail from his abs to his bottom half. Your cheeks flushing as he’s so unabashedly bare in front of the whole room.

But it only propelled your anger. How could he? Just step into your domain — the art school wing — and just come here? Posing like a gangly weirdo, riding on his looks so none of the students complained. Staring straight into your eyes as a confrontation. So much it felt like he was telepathically speaking to you.

Why aren’t you returning my calls? Or, how does this make you feel? It was infuriating.

And as if satisfied in your attention on him, he smirks, like he won some imaginary battle. This idiot.

The timer rings, making you flinch against the supply table. Your cheeks flush slightly, as you clear your throat. “Another 6 poses, each 2 minutes.” You manage to choke out, pressing the timer.

As the figure session goes on for the next hour, Mingyu’s confidence was starting to irritate you to no end. At first what was awkward, was now overtly dramatic. His poses of showing off his muscles, flexing his back, it was too much. People were here to draw, not ogle.

You decided to play, not wanting Mingyu to have the upper hand. As Mingyu goes to pick up the robe off the ground, you yell, “Stop right there!”

Mingyu freezes immediately, mainly out of confusion. His eyes drifting to you, a slight furrow of his brows.

“Now, the model will stay still. Do you see how the arm connects to the shoulder blades? Please turn to a new paper and start focusing on that area.” You say, stopping Mingyu in an uncomfortable position in the name of education.

You eye how his leg starts to shake from holding it, but it only fuels you. “Now focus on the thigh muscle, we’ll hold this pose for another 3 minutes.” You say, a little glee seeping into your voice.

Mingyu’s eyes shooting up to glare at you, as you cock your head and smile.

You push Mingyu to do crazy things, like pretending to do a lay up for 10 minutes to talk about line of action. Or when you asked the students to move in closer to draw his face, having twenty people at once hyper fixate on his expression. Now, the class was fun. You completely turned it around.

The timer rings. “Alright, lunch break.” You say, as it’s half way through the 6 hour class.

Theres a collective sigh of relief, as students massage their wrists, and Mingyu putting his robe back on, but loosely. Letting his chest peek out through the fabric, as he walks around the room.

You watch as he circles, smiling and complimenting others.

“Wow, thats really good.”

“Whoa, really love how you drew that one.”

“Is that how I look? I’m flattered! Thanks.”

You huff, looking away as you catch a glimpse of him leaning over a pretty girl’s shoulder as she shows her sketches. Purposefully letting the loose robe drape his exposed chest as he examines the drawings.

Students get up to stretch their bones outside, getting lunch during the break. The other T.A. goes to check on something, leaving only you and Mingyu in the figure drawing room.

You stand, ignoring him as you walk towards the platform, readjusting the power of the studio lights. “Next part of the class is long poses,” You say, twisting the knob. “So it’ll be harsh lights. you just have to sit there, it’ll easy.”

You turn back around, Mingyu looking at you with a small smile, barely a yard away. His hands on his hips, as he looks down at you. “You know,” He drawls, his voice low. “This was a lot more fun than I thought.”

“Is it?” You respond bitterly, “Well I’m glad. Because you’re not gonna be paid for this.” You inform him, as Mingyu isn’t a real model signed with the school.

“Thats okay, I’m getting what I wanted anyways.”

You sigh, as you cross your arms. Deciding not to beat around the bush.

“What are you doing here, Mingyu?” You ask tiredly, finally looking at him straight, your brows furrowed. You boldly looking into his playful eyes.

His smug expression softens, almost reminiscent to how he would look at you before everything. He takes his bottom lip under his teeth, chewing as he looks at you.

“You seriously need me to answer that? Like always?” He says quietly, but with only you two in the studio, he could whisper from across the room and you’d still catch it.

“What, like you actually answer me with anything that makes sense?” You respond back tightly. Sighing, you relax your shoulders, biting your cheek as you glance away from him. A student’s messy pencil case catching your attention, albeit forced.

A deafening silence falls. Mingyu never really liked to fight anyways.

“You’re, you’re difficult, you know that?” He starts, as he ruffles his hair with his hand, as if that would release his pent up frustration. “When I got the random phone call that you guys needed a last minute model, I thought for a second it was intentional.”

He takes a step closer, “But of course not. You looked like you saw a ghost when I walked in.”

You gulp, “Well, to be fair, thats what you are now.” You say quietly. Avoiding his eyes.

“Oh? So I’m just dead to you?”

“No, that would be easier.” You snap, finally looking back to face his eyes. Mingyu’s jaw clenched, his eyebrows knitted, trying to figure you out like an abstract art piece.

He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a disappointed huff. “y/n.” He starts firmly, in a tone he barely used.

But of course, directed to you, making your skin crawl in the overly air conditioned room.

Hands on his hips, as he takes a long breath, his head facing down as he hides his expression. “For an artist, you’re really shit at expressing your feelings.” He sighs, his bangs hiding whatever you could gather from him.

“Fine.” He concludes, looking up, his shoulders more relaxed. “I’ll stop bothering you about it, since you’re so sure.” He says throwing his arms out. “On one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, wary of whatever condition he was gonna propose. Mingyu could be unpredictable when you pushed him, making the hair at the back of your neck stand.

“Draw me.” He says finally. He glances at the clock on the wall, “They still have that lunch break. So just draw me at least once, before everyone comes back.” He proposes, turning around to walk casually to the platform, as if he’s assuming you would just do it.

Is he serious? You weren’t even together anymore, and yet he wants a free commission from you? Thats crazy, like you’d ever —

“Fine.” You say curtly, “Since you’re so desperate for my attention anyways.” You quip, walking over to the supply table, making sure your shoes stomp against the hard floor. You swipe some spare paper, clipboard, and some charcoal.

The second you were at an art horse in front of Mingyu though, your fire waned slightly. The dead silence of the room was deafening, as you adjust your clipboard. The sound of the metal clips thumping against the paper, the feet of the art horse squeaking as you adjust sitting on the worn wood.

When you gaze up at Mingyu, it was obvious. He really was getting what he wanted, and it was your undivided attention.

Once ready, the charcoal in your hand, Mingyu sits down on the stool, eyes steady on you as he grips the already loose tie around his robe with his large hand. Letting it fall, as he exposes himself once more in the bright lights you set up yourself. He kicks the robe away off the platform, set on you drawing him like this.

You blink back any feelings that threaten to show on your face, readjusting the charcoal in your hand as you avoid Mingyu’s eyes, pressing down to finally start a line.

Its been a while since you last drew figures, and it usually took an hour of continuous drawing before you really found your pace in figure drawing sessions. But it was different this time.

Your heart beats in your ears, a silence of the room highlighting the sound of your charcoal smearing against the newsprint — the sounds of your breathing and of Mingyu’s, as time passes. Agonizingly slowly, yet a focus every artist aches for.

Your hand moves accordingly. Outlining the contour of his silhouette, the way his neck slopes, the soft lines that shape his abs he always was working on. Pressing for pressure with your charcoal as you indicate the weight of him sitting on the stool, hands in his laps loose as you capture his likeness with ease.

But the focus doesn’t last for long, especially when you flicker your eyes back to his. Already flicking a stroke to mimic his right eyelid, before you still. Pressing the tip of your charcoal into the paper, crumbling against the grain as you stare into his large brown eyes.

Fuck. What are you even doing?

Why are you drawing him so intently, when you vowed just a while ago that you never wanted to see Mingyu again?

Your breath hitches, as you raise your arm, flickering back to your drawing. Charcoal in the air, swinging to run a huge line through your figure of him, to smear it, to destroy it, to —

Your wrist stops mid air, as you feel a warm grip tightening around you. Eyes wide, you unfocus on the paper, to look up. Somehow in your tiny melt down Mingyu got down from the platform.

He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. Jaw tense, “You were just gonna ruin it, weren’t you?” He asks you quietly.

You can’t help but knit your brows, a pained expression forming that matches the one in his eyes.

The charcoal clatters out of your hand, landing on the floor in broken pieces.

Tears start welling in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling. “You’re right,” You start shakily, “I don’t know… how to address anything unless I’m drawing.” You say weakly.

Mingyu’s eyes soften slightly, swallowing hard as the bright lights highlight the contour of throat bobbing. “Yeah, seems like it.” He replies carefully. You expected him to use this as a told you so, maybe give you a smug smile, like, I knew you weren’t over me.

But Mingyu was never like that anyways. No matter how much he craved your attention, he also wanted your peace of mind. A hard thing to ask from an artist like you.

His grip on your wrist softens, as he kneels down, getting eye level with you as you still sit on the art horse. Holding your hand in his, rubbing a thumb over the veins on the back of your hand gently.

“I miss you.” You finally muster, your eyes focused on his.

“I miss you too.” He responds back, before cracking a small smile.

You strain your brows into a furrow, blinking back the warm tears you naturally formed from the vulnerable moment. A shaky huff also coming out of you, as you decide to lean forward.

Inching your face closer, until the tip of your noses brush, Mingyu stiffening slightly as you shyly graze your lips against his lips. A small breath escaping his lips, fanning over yours before you finally part them.

Your lips against his — it was like home. Finding your way back after such a tumultuous and useless road. The warmth of his lips seeping into you, Mingyu as relieved as you are. His hands finding its way to the sides of your face, pulling you impossibly closer.

It only escalates, as you open your mouth wider to push your tongue against his, making Mingyu groan out as he meets you with similar enthusiasm.

He pulls you forward, off the art horse. Taking you down to the ground, maneuvering you until your back is against the hard floor. Covering you with his large frame, his weight pressing down on you in ways you were having such a hard time admitting you missed.

It was fast, and albeit messy and rushed. Like trying to make up for wasted time as you pull him close, hands wrapped around the back of his neck as your lips go numb, your teeth clashing.

You let out a whine, when Mingyu pulls away with a heavy breath, fighting against your attempts to pull him back for a kiss.

“Y/n — fuck, can we?” He asks hurriedly, his voice breathless. A look of want in his big eyes, but there was also a little responsibility.

First of all — anyone could walk into the studio any second. There was only a lunch break, sure, an hour. But at least half of it has passed.

As you take your bottom lip under your teeth, chewing at your swollen lip as you think. And Mingyu knows exactly what look you were giving him, and he wasn’t going to reject you. Not now.

He leans back in, crashing his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss, breath hot against yours, before moving to your jaw. Leaving open mouthed rushed kisses down your neck, as you move your hands down his back. Feeling the muscles you were forcing yourself to look away from during the whole first half of class.

Touching Mingyu was way better than just drawing him from afar. You’re sure on that.

He moves his hand down, to push your midi skirt up, bunching the fabric to your hips. Your legs exposed to the cold air of the studio, as he wastes no time to slide your panties to the side. Already wet and damp from the heavy making out, and partially to the adrenaline of being in such a risky place.

“Damn, already?” He says, with a slight tease to his voice, making you pinch his arm. He lets out a pained chuckle, before placing his thick fingers against yours core, a gasp escaping your lips.

It helped that he knew you so well already, your legs squirming around the sides of him as he runs his fingers through yours wet folds, his thumb circling your clit as he inserts two fingers in, stretching you out as you gasp, Mingyu attacking your neck with messy kisses as he gets you ready for him.

“Fuck, Gyu,” You whine, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he curls his fingers, hitting the spongy flesh that makes you arch your back off of the floor.

You weren’t the only one worked up, Mingyu being bare this entire time. His dick pressing up against the inner of your thigh, hardening at the sounds of your pleasure.

Your hand shoots down to grab hold of him, helping him get hard as he lets out a moan, as you tighten your grip. Pumping him a few times, lining him up to you as he removes his hand from your entrance.

You both let out soft gasps as you hold his dick to swipe against you, coating him in your arousal, his tip leaking with precum.

He doesn’t even ask, he just knows, as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch. The friction from your pulled to the side panties, to the tight warm walls of your pussy, making him feel lightheaded with pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby,” He breathes, without even adjusting, he ruts into you roughly. Bottoming out as he knocks the wind out of you.

A whine escapes your throat, as you hold tightly around his shoulders, as Mingyu doesn’t slow his pace.

Its rough, its fast, and overall — desperate. The lewd sounds of flesh colliding echoing in the empty studio. Your mind going dumb at his fast pace, only focused on how he goes in, out. In, out.

The smell of his sweat, the way your hands run down his exposed body, all for you. He did this all for you. To get your attention, to get you back. God, does he even know how that makes you feel?

“Fuck, fuck,” He whines, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Already feeling a little fatigued from abusing your pussy so fast. But it was just too good, he missed it so much. So, so much. And he made it evident, as he pushes the back of your thighs higher to your chest, getting deep as he can. And fucking you like his life counted on it.

You feel the familiar build up of your orgasm, your walls tightening as you grip Mingyu’s shoulders. “Gyu, Gyu, I’m —“ You manage to choke out, as he moves his face from your neck to yours. Catching your cry with his mouth, drowning it as he kisses you messily.

You shudder, squirming under him as you feel the familiar high. Your body tingling with sensitivity and pleasure, as he overwhelms you with what can only be love.

He follows soon after, not being able to maintain his mouth to yours as he lets out a shaky grunt. Spilling inside you, his cum warm and filling, making your cheeks flush in contentment and relief.

He slows, stilling as you both catch your breaths. Pulling out of you with a reluctance. Pushing himself up, to lean back to sit. You follow as well, adjusting your skirt back as you push yourself up to your elbows.

Mingyu was a sight, as he always is. His tan skin glowing with a layer of sweat. The way his toned chest rises from catching his breath. The way his bangs are sticking to his forehead, his cheeks flushed with a rush of blood. A satisfied look on his face, as he sighs, licking his bottom lip as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile, a warm one. As you gather yourself.

“Lets get you cleaned up before the second half. Where did you throw your robe?”

“Oh fuck. I don’t know. You got any other ones?”

[kianamaiart]

Do you have any tips on how to make character height sheets? I'm currently doing my own for the set of OCs I'm working on and they always seemed so off.

i.e. One character would be taller than another character; but the other character would have bigger proportions, making the first character look tiny compared to them despite the height difference. Which is not the effect that I wanted between these two characters.

Hmmm that's tricky. A lot of it is understanding your fundamentals and knowing proportions.

First, definitely start with a sketch of your entire lineup all next to each other. That way you can visually see and easily adjust as you go without messing with final line/color. I'm not sure what kind of style you're working in (im assuming not toooo stylized or this wouldn't be much of an issue) or the ages of your ocs, but generally head sizes within an age range are pretty consistent from character to character. Like adults usually have similarly sized heads as each other and kids have similarly sized heads as other kids.

Assuming you're working with a tall adult and short adult, draw both of their heads the same size, put them at the height you want them to be at and then draw the bodies in proportional to their height. Idk if that makes sense but that's usually how I do it

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @mimimar

Hi! I’m Michelle (Mimimar), an illustrator born and raised in Venezuela, currently based in Italy. I enjoy making colorful illustrations that reflect the things I love: fairy tales, fantasy, tenderness and queer (especially sapphic) stories. Occasionally, I also make paper dolls, comics and animatics. I have a lot of interest in book illustration and I’m currently developing my own stories that I hope to share as an author-illustrator someday!

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I always enjoyed drawing when I was a kid, but it only became a hobby that I did almost every day when I was around 11. At first I only used traditional mediums, but I decided to make a serious effort to learn how to draw digitally when I was 15, and once I got the hang of it I never stopped!

I didn’t go to art school so all of my learning was done through studying the tutorials and resources that other artists generously share on the internet and lots of practice / trial and error.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I want to do many things but what I want to do the most right now is work on books! I want to make art for other authors’ stories and also my own stories as an author-illustrator. I want to grow as a storyteller and create art and stories that will really resonate with people emotionally. I’m always striving to improve my skills as well.

I also really love dolls, so working on doll box art or as a doll designer is something I would love to do someday. I actually have been designing paper dolls on my Patreon for the past few months, it’s been a fun project that is still ongoing right now!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Probably using a lot of purple! It’s my favorite color so I find myself using it a lot. If I can find a way to sneak a little bit of purple into an illustration or a character design then I will.

Congratulations on finishing your Ivy Comic! Did the outcome turn out like how you expected or were there some unexpected bumps along the way?

Thank you! It’s a project that I worked on very slowly in between other art because I wanted to really take my time with every spread and make each of them a fully detailed illustration. I thumbnailed the full comic before starting but I kept changing the sketch for the final spread until the very end! Overall I’m really proud of the end result. I sprinkled a lot of hidden details in every page that I hope some of the readers will notice. For example: the meanings of the flowers in each page represent what the characters are feeling in that moment, and the colors of their wardrobe become gradually lighter as the story progresses to represent their emotions, as well as the changing of seasons.

We’ve noticed that you have created some amazing cover art for TGCF. Is there another series you would like to do something similar with? 

That was another passion project that took some time to complete. Initially, I didn’t intend for them to be specifically covers, it was just a series of illustrations based on the 5 books/main arcs of TGCF. But since they were well-received and I had people telling me they wish they could use them as covers for their books, I decided to rework them into dust jackets for the english translation of TGCF!

I haven’t thought of any other specific series but I love doing cover art so maybe I’ll do something similar again in the future!

What’s your favorite part of your style? Why?

I’ve heard from other people that there’s a delicate quality to my art, this is something that I like a lot! I like pretty things, fairytales and vibrant colors. I think all of these things probably reflect in the art I make as well.

If there is one thing you want your audience to remember about your work, what would it be?

I hope that they remember how it made them feel. Feelings and colors are the two things I give priority to in my work. Most of the time I like depicting tenderness, softness and emotional intimacy. If that could reach the viewer and stay with them it would make me very happy. 

I make a lot of art with queer (mainly sapphic) themes because they’re the kind of stories I personally like and want to see more of, so whenever people tell me that my art has helped them in their journey to discover and accept themselves, or that they see themselves and their partner in my art, it is always extremely meaningful to me. When art that I made to give myself comfort can provide comfort for others, no matter how small, it reminds me once again that despite any hardships art is genuinely worth pursuing.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

So many artists! To name a few:  I love @sakizo’s amazing eye for fashion and detail,  @paneeps’ gorgeous style and striking colors,  the sweetness of @bevsi’s art,  @vickisigh’s pretty colors and concepts,  @idledee’s warm and heartfelt art,  @littlestpersimmon’s dreamy wonderful art,  and @loish has been an inspiration for as long as I can remember.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @mimimar.

[transformersxreader]

Imagine being a famous opera singer across Iacon city! (TFOne Reader insert)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~(Y/n) who loves to sing her spark out to all the citizens of Iacon city, (Y/n) who gladly performs for her primes.

~The primes enjoy (Y/n) singing voice, they could listen to her all day and talk poetic

~(Y/n) being the nicest bot that anybody has ever meet, welcoming all to see her performances. No matter who they are

~(Y/n) who changes her amor styles like padme from Star Wars, but mostly wears her yellow mix orange amor (☝️The one in the sketch above)

Here are some example vids of what (Y/n) would sing like

~After another perfect performance for the primes, (Y/n) meets an odd yet charming fan.

“(Y/n) a pleasure to finally meet you, the names sentinel~ love your work~”

The blue bot grabs (Y/n) hand pulling it up towards his face to kiss it, (Y/n) smiles trying to be kind about his actions

“Thank you sentinel, very nice to meet you.”

~Some time has passed and the sad announcement of primes death facing the quintessons, ending the war making everyone believe they have won. Not knowing that sentinel betrayed the primes working for the enemy to gain power over cybertron. Making him the new prime of cybertron their “savior”

~(Y/n) was saddened with the news of the primes death, but due to the victory over the quintessons it was called a celebration from the new prime.

“(Y/n) there’s someone here to speak with you.”

(Y/n) looks up to the mirror reflection to see one of her assistant that helps her throughout the day, but doesn’t look back,

“Tell them I’m not seeing anyone today….”

(Y/n) looks down covering her face, before the bot could say anything. A large figure pushes into the room, (Y/n) hears standing up turning to face whoever came in.

“I’m sorry I’m not seeing-“

There stood sentinel.

“Sentinel?”

Sentinel smiles and walks closer to (Y/n), grabbing her hand pulling her closer to him surprising (Y/n) by his bold actions.

“(Y/n) lovely to see you again, how you’ve been?”

(Y/n) was shock just as she was to reply she was interrupted

“Listen my dear, since our victory against the quintessons I believe a performance from you would really lift our citizens spirits up.”

(Y/n) was just lost at this point,

“Sentinel… I don’t-“

“Prime. Sentinel prime.”

(Y/n) flinch at his voice, (Y/n) not wanting more issues agrees to perform for the new prime. Sentinel delighted on (Y/n) agreement, stating that he will be excited to see (Y/n) perform for him.

Time seems to past slowly for (Y/n), After performing for the passing of the primes and our victory,

(Y/n) didn’t felt like herself, waving to the large crowd that applauded and cheered. Looking above to some of the balconies seeing sentinel prime and what seems to be his right hand bot, a very tall femme bot.

Both with smiles applauded for (Y/n).

(Y/n) gave one final bow to the crowd and walking gracefully off the stage to her personal dressing room.

Sighing in relief, she hums a low lullaby to herself. As she hums the room around her changes slowly, she removes a few pieces of her outfit. Changing into a new amor color.

(Y/n) was resting enjoying the free time she had before seeing sentinel again, looking out viewing the large city from a high building, placing another small energon cube into her mouth. Laying back to look up (Y/n) slowly closed her optics, finally feeling at peace.

Clunk-Boom!!

A loud crash startle (Y/n), waking her up looking around the room seeing a bit of dust, waving the dust away.

‘Cough’ ‘cough’ “ugh… ow my head.”

“And this is why I didn’t wanted to come!”

(Y/n) optics adjusted seeing two fingers, the two other bots didn’t seem to noticed her. They both continued their little conversation. The gray bot looks around then finally noticed (Y/n).

“Uh.. pax…”

The other red bot looks up to his friend and just as he was going to ask what’s the matter, the gray bot grabs ahold of his head making him face (Y/n). They three stood in silence, thinking whether or not to make a sound. The red bot smiles shyly slowly raising his hand waving.

“Umm hello.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading my friends 😊✨✌️

[lynaferns]

Redraw (well, third attempt) of an old drawing from 2022.

Alright, this is a big one, so, PC users: left click the image, right click the image, open in another tab, zoom and see all the details you want.

Phone users: press down on the image, download, find image in your phone gallery, it will download at full quality so you can zoom and see all the details.

The fancy stars and the inside of the piano were a pain in the ass, everything else went pretty smoothly, or at least the average complications. I'm proud of how I mixed the colors in the piano. I was convinced I'd end up making a mess but it turned out nice.

Once again, this is finished because I decided so. I have no energy to make the final look I had in mind.

The piano alone, close ups (cuz the jpeg won't let you zoom at the very max and that sucks, so I screenshot from my art program) and an idea for an AU + youtube playlist I made that I relate too much to the AU under the cut. vvv

SO!

This was never supposed to be an AU, and I probably won't do anything regardless, but I got the idea while I was working on it last month. And since I have a liiiiiiittle basic knowledge of music and experience, specially in piano... well...

I had bad experiences learning music as a child so probably the story would reflect on that lol.

An old astral auditorium that's abandoned and in ruins during the day and gets all shiny and nice at night when it's illuminated by the light of the stars.

Sun, Moon and Eclipse are in charge of the place, they do their best at keeping the place standing… and are the main musicians that play for the stars every month, once or twice. The day and night transformation affects them too.

Violet (y/n that's not really a y/n at this point) is a young altruist and selftaugth violinist (yeah yeah, I'm very original with the names, hush) that came across this old auditorium. She starts visiting the brothers to play music during the day and decides to join them in the auditions to play for the stars, and help them modernize a little bit to attract human audience too.

The brothers play several instruments to be able to acompany each other if necesary buuut they each have a "favourite". Sun mainly Piano, Moon mainly Harp (can also play piano and viola to accompany Sun) and Eclipse can play any instrument Sun and Moon can and more, but likes accordion :)

Sun is the most strict one when it's about playing music even though he likes to mess around with songs and improvise during day hours when no body is around, but will feel guilty afterwards... Moon is a gremlin that likes messing up and playing with the instruments in ways you are not supposed to (like using the viola bow as a sword). Eclipse is easy going and will match the energy of their brothers while keeping them out of trouble. Clip doesn't really like playing for the auditorium and prefers improvising silly songs alone or with Sun and Moon.

You can ask me about this AU if it got you curious, I'll be glad to answer!

I still want to make the MC design at least. And maybe some sketch comics if I have the energy for it.

[choochooboss]

Submas Sketchdump Vol. 4 July 2022 Part 2!!

I knew that particular month beat my all time record for productivity multifold but I had forgotten SO MANY PIECES from the original collection!! I think I finally got them all?? More stuff under the cut!!

BREAKMAS!! WIP of the first piece I posted of them, here's the link to the final version! I tried coloring this first but the black & white had ultimately more impact so I went with that!

TRAINS!! I like this base color version too! Link to the final version!

The top sketch is a direct reference to Cluedo! A spinoff game, "Missingo", starring certain familiar characters trying to figure out what happened to Ingo/trying to prove their innocence in the case! Also WIP sketches for these two Breakmas comic pages!

As you may know I adore butlermas! For the classy and stylish look which appeals to me in general, and coincidentally I had played PLA & got hit by submas train only one week before butler Ingo's banner rolled out! The pure bliss of finally meeting both twins in a game I felt was incomparable!! This moment in the Curious Tea Party event was really entertaining to me! We got to see submas get serious and stand up against this selfish collector thief! Two towering train twinks with commanding voices looming over the unfortunate guy was enough to make him change his mind ahah! They truly are the protectors

1-hour submas challenge prompt "Descend"! This is the actual one hour result before I continued rendering this!

Mmmmm not my first attempt at drawing them hug and definitely not my best OR last. I want to make that moment something very special when I finally go all out on it!!

Comic cover vibing~

The scrapped last page for this silly comic! Sorry the dialogue is all over the place on the first piece, might be hard to read! I wasn't happy with how I presented Elesa, I wasn't familiar enough with her character back then so I thought of her carrying a toy taser to threat her friend even as a joke was too much and I couldn't come up with anything else for it. This held me back from posting the other three pages for another 5 months! In the last panel

I prefer to not mess up the twins too much but my brain is still very curious and conjures some peculiar stuff like this sometimes.. I think I may have broken his arms there looking at the anatomy, ooops! I hope you don't mind the photo quality or the two weird guys in the corner, they escaped containment!

Idea of warden Ingo, being projected to modern era by his Alakazam, walking through crowd on a train platform & Emmet standing inside a passing train. Their eyes meet for just a few seconds...

Pokemas Ingo practise!

Another WIP of a piece I posted! I started this piece like this but then later I decided to flip the whole thing.

YET another WIP of something I already posted! No idea why I went and mixed up his suits but I like this sketch! They rarely end up looking this clean haha

Sketch version of the self-defense practise piece! I love getting creative with action stuff! I barely ever think of how difficult they are to draw, I just get so excited and fixated on visualising the scenes in my mind I just keep at it, pull out refs and pose in front of mirrors until it looks good to me! I want to draw more action scenes but besides being challenging to draw my brain comes up with more silly and cute ideas than cool ones unfortunately ahah

One more WIP, here's the link to the final results!! I really like how genuine their expressions look here even if the faces are a little off. I recall spending a long time figuring out this perspective. I thought it would be fun to you to see how all these pieces started and... looking at the sketch above and the stuff before that, you can compare some range of my style!

RANDOM SUBMAS MISSILES GO

OHHH looks like some nasty passengers got the best of them!! If I recall correctly there was no fight because they managed to paralyse the two before they could act. Fully awake yet completely helpless... how convenient unfortunate. Thank you so much for checking these out!! Not every sketch is that exciting but I'm always happy to hear your thoughts on these!

Previous posts: Sketch dump Vol. 1: April-June 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 2: July 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 3: August 2022

[acewithapaintbrush]

Saw @artsymeeshee hospital sketches of the sea grunks and thought to myself, is this finally my time to write some brotherly angst for these two? The answer is yes. Short but sweet, please enjoy.

******************************

The first thing Stan becomes aware of is the noise.

A constant beeping right next to his ear. Loud and high-pitched and repetitive and unfortunately very familiar to an old grifter with bad luck like him. He would be a lot more annoyed with this sound if his last clear memory wasn't of roaring waters rushing past his ears, stealing his hearing and leaving nothing but white noise behind.

He'd rather take the beeping.

Next comes taste, which, ugh! He could have gone without that! The feel of scratchy sheets is not much better but it tells him that he is in one of the better hospitals. Believe it or not, the better the hospital, the scratchier the sheets. Ford should cool it with the mystical beasts and research what's up with that!

Speaking of Ford.

Stan keeps his breathing even as he slowly opens his eyes. The light has been dimmed in anticipation and he blinks a couple times at a ceiling that is painted a nondescript beige color. He looks at it for a moment and for some strange reason he suddenly feels a fierce urge to video call Mabel.

But first things first.

Stan slowly turns his head to the side which actually hurts. Don't they have him on the good stuff?

Just as he expected, there is his brother. Ford has squeezed himself into the same bed as Stan, facing his brother's prone form. Stan can't help but smile. His brother must have bullied the nurses into letting him stay. The bed is way too small for two grown men but somehow the genius has managed to practically fold himself into a compact ball, leaving enough room for all those fancy machines connected to the patient. One of his hands lightly rests against Stan's chest which he hasn't even noticed until now.

Ford's eyes are closed but he is mumbling under his breath, reciting one of his journal entries from memory.

Stan winces. His brother must be really rattled by this little mishap.

‘Great job giving the guy another thing to worry about, Stanley!’

“I think climbing into the hospital bed with the patient is against the rules, Sixer? You are not supposed to do that.”

He was going for levity and humor but his hoarse voice kinda ruins that.

Ford's eyes don't snap open. He doesn't gasp or jerk upright or anything like that. Instead he takes a shuddering breath and deliberately opens his eyes. They find Stanley immediately and there is not a hint of surprise in them. Stan wonders how long Ford has known that he's awake.

“Same to you,” Ford says and his voice is so flat it causes a shiver to run down Stan's spine.

“Hey, s’not like I planned for this to happen.”

“I would be very cross with you if you had planned falling overboard, Stanley.”

Ford's emotions still feel weirdly flat. He isn't even lecturing and scolding Stan for his reckless behavior, just presses his six-fingered hand against his chest and stares at him with those blank eyes.

“I'm alright.” Stan shifts so he can face his brother and, damn, those ribs are definitely cracked. He briefly wonders if that happened in the fall or whether someone had to do CPR on him and quickly decides that maybe he doesn't want to know. Close call. Much too close. “I'm alright, Ford,” he repeats as if that makes it true.

For the first time an emotion flickers through Ford's face. He narrows his eyes and for a moment Stan thinks he's angry but then a single tear runs down an unshaven cheek, immediately seeping into the pillow.

“I thought I lost you for good,” Ford whispers, voice tortured. “I couldn't find you. For the longest time. I looked and I looked and you were just… gone. I couldn't find you!”

‘Same to you,’ Stan echoes with a bit of a bitter edge, mind replaying thirty years of hunching down in a dusty basement in a matter of seconds.

But this is not about him and Stan is, no matter what some might want to tell you, not an insensitive asshole.

“You did find me,” he says. He doesn't actually know if that's true. The time after he fell into the ocean during that storm is still a bit of a mystery to him. All he remembers is the noise of the water and how cold he felt and a voice screaming his name, over and over, growing fainter with each wave crashing over his head.

But Ford needs some reassurance right now. And the best way to reassure Ford that Stan is alright is by proving his alrightness with a good, old Pines hug.

He lightly pulls at the hand on his chest and with a cut off gasp Ford immediately obliges, scooting closer until they are entwined with one another just like they were as kids when the nightmares became too much to remain separated by a bunk bed.

“You found me.” Stan repeats and ignores the tears soaking into his hospital gown.

‘That's what we do,’ he thinks with a content smile, eyes falling shut with exhaustion. ‘We always find each other again.’

[heechwe]

A TEAR IN SPACE | 최한솔

⟢ PAIRING: hansol vernon chwe x fem!reader ⟢ WORD COUNT: 5.9K ⟢ GENRE: comedy, fluff, smut ⟢ TAGS: tattooartist!vernon, spit play, semi-dom!vernon, degradation kink, pet names (princess, etc), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, backshots, creampie ⟢ SYNOPSIS: Your first tattoo shouldn't be left in the hands of a stranger. But what scares you the most about the entire experience may just be how hard you're already falling for the tattoo artist. ⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally posting the damn birthday fic I planned weeks ago. Better late than never! Beta'ed by my usual sweethearts, @lovetaroandtaemin @gyubakeries, and to all of the friends who read it early and hyped me up, I love you so much. Also song title inspiration from a song by Glass Animals!

If your family and friends had known you were going in with no game plan for your upcoming tattoo, including what you wanted or where you would put it, they would have a heart attack. The only thing you’re certain of is the parlor itself, the place having tons of room for walk-ins since it opened barely a month ago. Despite its infancy, though, the business was getting rave reviews.

Better yet, it was only a ten-minute walk from your apartment. It had to be a sign to get one of your own, now or never.

Your heart rests in your mouth when you push the door of the business open, the blue neon sign for Cheol + Chwe Ink Company flashing in the corner of your eye. Only one customer sits in the tattoo parlor. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth as the tattoo artist repeatedly shades the same lines.

“First timer,” the artist says as he moves his hand and the ink gun from the reddened space on the guy's arm. He looks away from the canvas and to you for a moment, and your heart feels heavier with his eyes on you. His brown eyes captivate you, even as you look over the rest of his face and outfit. Shaved head, white t-shirt, and both arms covered from biceps to the backs of both of his hands in ink. “Told him not to get a dragon.”

“Fuck you, Vernon,” The guy spits, turning his head away and huffing out bated breath. His bangs fall into his eyes, and he has to use the arm not being tattooed to swipe them from his face.

“All I’m saying is, I told you to go for the roman numerals. Roman numerals are easier and faster than animals.”

You laugh to yourself and turn your head away, looking over the station around and behind Vernon’s head. Sketches litter the wall, some impressionistic, others dark shades of white and black. You recognize a couple of the art styles from your copious research on tattoos: neo-traditional, fine line, and so on. Some sketches remain unfinished; he’s tacked others, fully colored, to the wall. The guy clearly knows his stuff.

“Welcome to Cheol and Chwe! I’m the Cheol, Seungcheol that is. What can I do for ya?” The muscular guy behind the counter had to have materialized in front of you without you noticing. He’s got a warm smile that eases some of your nerves. And he has even more tattoos than Vernon, some covering his neck area.

“I was wondering if you could take a walk-in today for a free canvas.”

You see Vernon’s jaw tick and his ears perk up. It may not be an everyday occurrence for someone to come into a parlor with no expectations for what they get, especially for someone as capable as Vernon clearly is.

“Completely free? Alright, we can do that.” Seungcheol pulls out a clipboard with paperwork for you to sign. “Tattoo minimum is a hundred. That work for you?”

You nod. “Not a problem.”

You both go over the paperwork together, and by the time that you have your cash and ID out, Vernon walks over to Seungcheol with the cordless ink gun still in his hand. “Can you take over the rest of Mingyu’s tattoo? Just the shading needs to be finished.”

“What the fuck man!” Mingyu throws his free arm in the air, and Vernon smirks at him.

“Rather do the free canvas than another dragon, man. Sorry.” Vernon slides his focus back on you with a smile. “I’ll try to keep the design to the standard minimum. Unless you want something worth more than that.”

You contemplate and pull a few more bills from your wallet. “All I got is two hundred on me. Is that enough for a masterpiece?”

He chuckles and brushes his fingers against yours for the extra bills. The contact makes you shiver, but he’s cool and collected the entire time you touch. “I think I can work with that.”

With the way Vernon talked about the other guy’s first-time experience, you weren’t about to let him know you were also a first timer. Then again, you wouldn’t take the pain like a baby. You’d handle it like a pro, for sure.

“You’re in excellent hands,” Seungcheol pipes up, breaking the sudden tension in the air that still simmers between your fingertips.

The second you sit in Vernon’s chair and Vernon has a blue Sharpie in his hand, ready to freelance the design on your skin, your eyes once again shift across the space. It’s all black brick with industrial lighting, meant to give off the art as the focus. Where Seungcheol’s side is a lot cleaner, only a handful of his prints and designs on the mirror overlooking his chair, Vernon is scatterbrained. But he has to have some kind of system in place, flitting across drawers and supply boxes without issue.

You can tell he has you pegged already with his small smile and inquisitive eyes. From the way you fidget in your seat to the antsy movements of your eyes, it has to be obvious you’re a newbie to all of this. But Vernon is ever the gentleman, not pointing any of your behavior out when he asks, “Do you have any specific style in mind for the tattoo?”

You shake your head. “Free canvas, remember?”

He chuckles and takes the cap off of his marker with his teeth. “Just checking,” he remarks before the first touch of permanent marker goes over the skin of your forearm. 

Vernon creates broad strokes with the marker, his hands steady as he works with the free space. He follows those lines up with more precise details a few moments later, going in with cross-hatching and shading that looks absurd at first glance. Only he can see the greater picture of the design in his head. It may be a mixture of techniques and methods to anyone else, but ‌you trust the process the longer he continues.

Moments later, you look over the art on your forearm, stunned to see the biomechanical shapes and lines forming a pair of angel wings.

“If you hate it, we can start over.” He looks incredibly vulnerable as the words leave his lips, eyes sparkling with inspiration as he shares his stare with you and the drawing on your arm. He may say he’ll be okay with you detesting the idea, but you know better; it’s written all over him.

And you don’t detest it, not at all. It’s a beautiful design of contrast and light that isn’t too bold, yet in no way simplistic. The artwork sits so perfectly on your arm, you can only imagine how happy you’ll be with the ultimate piece.

When you tell him you love it, you know he knows you mean it, and he’s just as excited to start as you are. Sure, residual nerves relating to the pain of the entire process still linger, but with a smile as bright as Vernon’s guiding you through the fear, how can you think this is the wrong decision?

Before the ink gun’s tip can hit the first layer of skin, Vernon tries to explain the process to you, all while you keep your hard gaze on the contraption at his side. “The layer underneath the epidermis is where the ink goes, and it stays on that layer, which is what makes it permanent,” he says. “That’s why it stings so much at first, but once we go for a little while and your nerves go away, you’ll barely notice.”

“Who said I was nervous?” You quirk your eyebrow, trying to play it cool once more, but by this point, why lie? The feelings you thought were merely residual spring back up, your fear at war with your enthusiasm. You sigh as Vernon gets out a razor to shave the hairs on your forearm. Unsure of how to say what you want, no words come out while he slides the blade across your skin.

He looks up from your arm with a pout. “What happened to the girl who kept looking at her soon-to-be tattoo in the mirror? Bring her back, I miss her right now.”

You huff out a laugh, crossing your arms. “I’m still excited! I’m just nervous about how long it’s gonna hurt.” You cover your face with your hands, your cheeks turning a deeper shade than a moment before. “And now I’ve ruined my cover because you probably think I’m a big wimp like your friend over there.”

You both turn to see Mingyu biting down on his fist hard at another portion of the shading, so lost in his own misery he didn’t notice you just shit-talked him. Seungcheol keeps his thoughts to himself as he inks, but he looks like he’d rather deal with a thousand pages of paperwork than the guy in his chair.

Vernon chuckles quietly and continues preparing the cups of ink and his work station for the tattoo. “Wanna know a secret? Everyone is kinda nervous about their first tattoo, to varying degrees obviously.”

“Really?”

“Really really.” He winks and takes one of your crossed arms in his hand to lie on  the small resting place of the chair. “Think you’re a bit more comfortable now?”

You nod your head, bottom lip caught in your teeth. The gun sits a ways away in the corner of your eye, but it’s just the process. And accepting it makes it less scary.

Besides, you’re in excellent hands, as you’ve been told.

When the first puncture happens, you try not to suck in a breath or jolt as much as you can without disturbing the beginning of the process. You just take it for what it is and focus on the guy in the chair willing to create something beautiful for you and you alone to have on your body.

THREE MONTHS LATER

Vernon looks up from your sternum, his design partially completed under him. “Look at you now. Who would’ve thought we’d be here?”

“Just shut up and keep inking, Tattoo Boy. It’s a bitch to hold my chest like this.”

Vernon smirks and does as he’s told, running over another piece of empty skin with his usual cross-hatching technique. It reddens from the needle, but the feeling doesn’t phase you now. You just keep your breasts in your hands so as not to disturb Vernon working on the newest ink on your body. 

It’s your newest one. Half of a dozen tattoos already litter your body in random places, all done by the master himself. Cheol tried once to give you a small butterfly behind your ear a month ago, but Vernon was quick to shut the idea and the artwork down. “If she’s gonna get any design, it’s gonna be made by yours truly, Cheol.”

So there you were, toeing the line between becoming a full on tattoo fiend and keeping what’s left of your skin unmarred by Vernon’s ink gun.

You have told yourself countless times it’s because the final artwork is always top-notch, and no piece comes at an unreasonable price. Yet all of your friends look on with knowing eyes and judgemental expressions.

“Is it about the art, or is it the artist you really like?” One of your close friends asked over lunch two weekends ago with a glint in her expression. You couldn’t answer then. A million excuses came to mind that didn’t adequately explain what it was about overall. Your lack of a response seemed to be the only answer needed to confirm their suspicions and confuse you further.

Maybe you were lying to yourself. Maybe it truly was about the designs you loved so much. Either way, it was all the reason you needed to see the guy behind the ink gun, and you wouldn’t stop now.

Seungcheol walks in from the backroom and puts on his jacket. “Alright, man. I’m leaving for the night. Lock up for me?”

“No problem.” Vernon retracts his gun to run his wet cloth over your skin to soothe the redness. “Give Yeri my love.”

Seungcheol waves at you on his way out, and you tip your head in acknowledgement on account of your occupied hands. The bell dings above the door to signal his exit. “Who’s Yeri?” you ask.

“New girlfriend. Probably won’t last another month, but the old fart’s a lover, not a planner.”

You giggle, but the sound’s stunted once the needle presses down and into you again. “And which one are you, Chwe?”

Vernon chuckles, his breath tickling the skin just under your breast, making it harder for you to stay still. “Why don’t you tell me?” His hand holds you in place as he goes over another line. The sterile glove concealing his hand probably can’t detect how warm your skin has become, and you bite back the whimper in your throat as his thumb rubs circles into you. It’s the only thing that could make you relax the first time, the two of you came to realize. He’s committed the act of touching you in that way with every tattoo since to try easing your nerves, despite your protests that you’re not the same girl from all those months ago.

One thing that hasn’t changed is his ability to upend the feelings in your stomach like a professional. A couple of butterflies seem to knock around in there every time he says or does things no other artist would do to you and for you.

How is Vernon so calm every time you sit in his chair, composed as ever, while you’re in shambles? In all the encounters between you two, despite all of his implicit and explicit behaviors, he’s been stoic. He’s a still river amid your frenetic energy swooping in and out of the tattoo parlor.

Maybe he isn’t giving anything away because he doesn’t feel how you do. He’s not hiding anything, if that’s the case. He just isn’t interested in you, save for giving you countless tattoos that he’s hand drawn or you've requested and making a good buck out of it.

The thoughts sober you into a supine position, your voice quiet and any budding warmth chilled as he finishes the rest of his work. Vernon runs his rag over the last lines, pleased with the ultimate design. “Perfect art, perfect canvas,” he mumbles with a hint of a smile. “What more could I ask for?”

When he’s done, you try to rise from the chair and walk away, but he puts the gun to his side quickly to grab your naked waist. “Hey, what’s wrong?” His face scrunches up in confusion, his pout almost doing you in. “I gotta bandage you up, goof.”

You shake your head, trying to move back toward your shirt. “I’m going home, okay? Nothing crazy. I already have all the aftercare stuff in my—”

“Why are you running from me? Did I hurt you?”

You turn your back quickly to yank your shirt over your head without Vernon seeing your full chest, but you know he’s probably turned his head by now as well. Gentlemanly, as always. “You didn’t, not at all,” you say, partially believing the half-truth on your lips. “I just know what this is.”

“And what’s that?” His face turns serious, jaw locked and eyes trained on yours. You want to be blunt and out in the open with the thoughts on your mind. It’s too raw and real for you to expose yourself so blatantly right now, however, when you were shirtless two minutes ago. It’s much easier to be naked in one way rather than the other, unfortunately.

“Transactional,” you say. “I pay you for something, and you do it. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Is that what you think?” He tries to step closer when he catches the undercurrents of your statement, but you back away.

You don’t let him get close enough to shatter you further.

“You can send me the invoice.” He doesn’t say another word after that. Vernon lets you pack up your things and walk out of the parlor without asking you to slow down, to stay, to do anything except go. The chime of the entrance and exit bell rings through your ears as you walk home, your heart distraught and face tear-stained by the time you make it to your apartment, unsure of what to do next to mend the shattered parts of your heart.

“You were in here four days ago, kid. Maybe let the paint dry before you come in for another one?” Seungcheol asks with an air of concern that you want to smack him square in the face for. You don’t need another person in your life, close or not, complaining about your “new habit,” as they’ve called it. Is it so wrong to want to do things on your own and with your money that bring you joy, even if it’s excessive?

“Cheol, just gimme the damn butterfly, okay? It’s not rocket science.” You move past him at the counter to sit in his chair, back turned away from him and the door. “I want one piece that isn’t done by He Who Shall Not Be Named, alright?”

Seungcheol makes a sound of defense and walks over to you, his black boots stomping against the concrete floor in a way that rattles inside of your ears. “Alright, lemme print the stencil.”

You don’t want to talk, to think, to breathe the very concept of the frustrating tattoo artist you’ve grown to know over these past few months. He is not anything to you, and vice versa, as it was so clearly stated yesterday. Why are you wasting your time focusing on him so much when the relationship you’ve built has only existed in the walls of your mind?

When you turn your head to the bell above the door chiming, you expect to see anyone but him in a sleeveless tie-dyed shirt and ripped jeans. You silently curse your thoughts for conjuring him up, like a bad memory that paints the insides of your eyelids. He walks in with his Avengers backpack slung over one shoulder, the contents of it you’ve seen him take out and put back in thousands of times. Sketchbook, iPad, a case of nondescript pencils and pens for him to draw with.

Before Vernon can say a word to you, his eyes sparkling with an intention that you have yet to understand, Seungcheol walks out of the backroom with prints of the butterfly tacked to sticky paper. "Oh," Seungcheol exclaims. "Thought it was your day off."

Vernon instantly loses the hopeful expression in his eyes, the lines of his face glazing over into indifference and something else entirely that you cannot place. "I needed to clear my head. Didn't expect you to be here either." It feels like he's saying the words to you directly, the venom in them not going without notice.

"Was just doing the books when this one came in." He tips his head at you, and you blush hard.

"I mean—I can go if it's a problem," you whisper, turning your head in Seungcheol's direction but feeling the heat of Vernon's gaze on you like a wildfire, brushing across your skin without rhyme or reason.

"No." Both of the men’s responses almost overlap, but Seungcheol doesn't have the same strength in his tone that Vernon does. You feel anchored to the chair by the force of it, too scared to confront Vernon right now but too stuck to run away, trapped in every sense of the word.

Seungcheol's ringtone pierces the air, the sound high-pitched and girly to signify a specific person on the other end of the line. "It's Mina. I should take this." He sets the papers down near the chair you’re sitting in and runs outside. Hearing his new slice of the week’s voice is better than the impending argument between his coworker and his client, you think.

Only, you’re not Vernon’s, truthfully. Not in the way you want to be.

The first minute between you alone is pregnant with silence, both of you unsure where to start after leaving it on such a brutal note four days prior.

You huff out a breath before asking Vernon, "How are you?" The bags under his eyes tell you he hasn’t slept. His clothes look haphazardly put on, his belt practically flinging open from the rush he must have been in this morning. You feel guilty for being in any way involved in his flurry of negative feelings, but that saps out of you the minute you remember why you’re mad at him.

You immediately stand up and let a laugh escape, feeling idiotic for the question you just let leave your lips. "Actually, I don't want to know how you are right now. I shouldn't even be here."

"One, that hurts." He has the nerve to pout at you, his bottom lip jutting out like a little kid who dropped their ice-cream cone. "Two, I have to agree. Can’t focus when you’re around, to be honest." He moves from his spot in front of the door in case you want to run now, but you refuse to leave. Not when everything inside of you is bubbling up so perfectly for an explosion.

"Still waiting on that invoice from last night, by the way," you sneer with a close-lipped smile. You cross your arms, waiting for him to give you something besides a sarcastic comment.

"Ripping into me was enough payment, I think." Vernon sighs in between his smile and pinches the bridge of his nose. He steps closer to his workstation, and even closer to you, before letting his backpack fall onto the floor with a thud.

"Still trying to break your iPad?" you ask.

"I can buy a new one at this point. The point is that I've been a jerk.” His following gaze is vulnerable, his brown eyes remorseful. “You're right."

You roll your eyes. "Was that so hard to admit?"

"You haven't been exactly forthcoming either, princess. It's not like I'm an idiot, I see how you look at me."

You clench your fists at your sides and swallow your disappointment. "No, that role’s been reserved for me since the day we met." You're grateful the guy can be honest in this one arena at the very least, but it doesn’t make the rejection hurt any less. "So, I guess I'll see you around. Tell Cheol I'll send him a twenty or something for the wasted paper."

Before you can walk out of the parlor, Vernon clasps your forearm in his hand, his touch soft but charged with force. You can feel it in the way the pads of his fingers press into your skin, not too deep but in no way gentle. “Where are you going?” he asks in the quietest whisper you’ve ever heard.

His voice melts all the ice in your heart, pure warmth flooding your senses from the way he grazes his fingers from your forearm to your wrist and ultimately to your hand, intertwining your fingers.

“I don’t think you should touch a client like this, Tattoo Boy,” you murmur, unwilling to separate from him at this point.

“I think you know by now I don’t just see you as any other client.” He presses the hand not intertwined with yours to your cheek, thumb crazing the highest point. “I’m just sorry it took so long for me to admit it to myself. I’m not the best at…all of this.”

“Didn’t ask you to be,” you respond. “I just wanted honesty, and I appreciate it.”

He nods and steps closer, his lips barely a few inches from yours and breath fanning across your face when he asks, “What do you want now?”

“Now…” You pretend to contemplate before dragging your lips into a cheshire-like smile. “I want a lot of things from you, but I think a kiss will suffice for now.”

He obliges your request, pressing his lips to yours in a featherlight fashion. Only when both of you sink in the feeling of each other’s mouths does it go deeper, his tongue pressing against the meeting of your lips to sink into your mouth.

And sink he does, as do you. You fall deeper into him as he holds you tighter, running his fingers along your neck and down to your waist, squeezing the shirt and shorts you’re wearing to emphasize his newfound need.

“Oh, shit!”

You and Vernon separate quickly, the sound of Seungcheol’s voice reminding you that you’re still in a public place and should have some respect for their business. Then again, Vernon was making out with you just as strongly as you were with him, so the blame isn’t entirely on you.

“Sorry, um—Mina needs me to pick her up anyway, so…I’m gonna go! I’ll reschedule with you if you want me to, kid.” Seungcheol can’t look either of you in the eye as he walks past to grab his stuff, the tips of his ears red as he makes his way to the entrance.

In a flash, Seungcheol’s gone, and you release a squeal of embarrassment as Vernon laughs into your neck. “It’s not funny! I didn’t expect your boss to see all of that.”

“Hey,” Vernon interjects, “co-owner.” You stick your tongue out at him in response, but he just brushes a free strand of hair from your face. “We don’t have to be ashamed.” His eyes darken as he pushes his fingers into your neck. A small whimper escapes you, as much as you try to fight it. “Don’t tell me you’ll actually call him back for a tattoo.”

You roll your eyes again at him, the boy oblivious to the most logical answer. “What do you think?”

Vernon pecks your lips one more time in relief before walking towards the windows at the front of the parlor, the open space outside visible from the ceiling to the floor. Before you can ask, he says with a smirk as he brings the curtains down, “Don’t want anyone else getting a show, right?”

Vernon’s tongue touches the roof of your mouth as his hands roam underneath your t-shirt. You lie splayed out on his tattoo chair, with half of Vernon's body covering you. He pinches the skin that peeks out of your bra as his tongue works circles against your own. His fingers ghost so close to the curve of your breast that you may fall apart untouched at this rate. You can only imagine what you’ll do when he explores the places you want him to the most.

“You’re okay with this, right?” He asks with sudden vulnerability, his lips swollen and kiss-stained as he parts from you. A string of saliva peeks out in the corner of his mouth, and you find it utterly adorable how lust-blown his irises look already. “I get it if you’d prefer for this happen somewhere more private, I just—”

You press his mouth against yours. The method of shutting him up works wonders, Vernon groaning into your mouth as you palm him above his jeans and let the actions of your body do what the words can only do for so long.

Weeks of waiting, months of wondering, just for him to bring the pleasure of heaven down onto you like this. Inked arms caressing your body, sounds signaling his pleasure, mouth burning kisses into your skin like your own Vernon-shaped badges of honor.

Like a tattoo, every touch marks you as his.

“Open your mouth,” he commands as he wraps his hand around your jaw and chin, and you do it without a second thought. Before you can register the action, he spits his saliva onto the center of your tongue. It’s filthy, pure sin. From the sound that leaves his lips to the way he looks at you, expectant and waiting, any normal girl would probably retract and think it odd for a make-out session to come to this point.

But, because you’re you, eager for any and all of him, you swallow it. He emits a hum of approval, roaming the expanse of your face like a man who’s been without a real meal for too long, ready to devour anything that’s in front of him.

Vernon scoots you both closer to the edge of the tattoo chair, dragging his hands up to the top of your jean shorts as he slides further down until his knees hit the concrete floor. “I want these off. Lift your hips.”

He takes the clothing off as soon as you lift your lower half up for him to discard the fabric. Your body jolts from the cool air, the chillier temperature in the space hitting your core and the wet patch on your underwear.

“Shit,” Vernon says as he parts your legs, his hands splaying out on the insides of your thighs. “This wet for me, already? I have a lot to live up to.”

“Don’t tease me,” you say with a pout in his direction. You wiggle your hips closer to his body, needing more than he is giving in the moment. He stills you with one hand on the outside of your thigh, and the other pulling your panties to the side, the air completely brushing against your exposed cunt.

He kisses both of your kneecaps before he inches closer, each second a drag into the ultimate oblivion you want to fall into. If only he would quit making you wait for it.

The second you think to chastise him for moving so slowly is the second he attaches his mouth to your clit. He licks a stripe from your perineum to the swollen bud, his open mouth latching onto your pussy like it’s all he wants to consume for the rest of his life.

You latch your fingers between the strands of his hair, moaning into the open air above you as he works your body for all it’s capable of. He’s only seen you naked for a minute yet he seems to know exactly how to make it stop, start, speed up, and slow down just from his ministrations.

Stars paint the back of your eyelids as he continues to run his lips and tongue across your center. Your hole flutters at the entrance of his tongue between your walls. His nose pokes your clit as he does so, and you think this may be the best sexual experience you’ve ever had, despite the abnormal setting in which it’s taking place.

You’ll never look at another tattoo chair the same, that’s for sure.

Your release comes at the rapid movements of his tongue against your clit, the figure eights too fast for your mind and body to keep up with. Unfiltered moans and curses leave your lips as you fall back down to earth, Vernon not letting up until your body stops shaking and turns to mush against the chair.

His wet mouth lingers on your thighs, lips sticky with your essence. “Think you can get on all fours for me, princess?”

You don’t know how to sit up when you feel so limbless, all the energy sapped from you from your orgasm, but you’re willing to do what he wants if it means he gives you another.

Anything for more of the pleasure he’s made you feel in such a short span of time.

He removes your underwear completely and then unbuckles his belt as you stretch your hands and knees out on the small tattoo chair, bending it all the way down to accommodate your body on top of it. You feel the head of his cock rub against your pussy, and a garbled whimper escapes at the friction. Moving backwards into him is no use, him sensing your eagerness in a second and pulling away.

“Don’t be a brat,” he chastises.

“I wouldn’t have to be if you gave me what I want,” you talk back, turning your head to look him in the eye.

In that moment, he decides to sheath himself fully inside of you, and you shut your eyes tight at the overwhelming stretch of his cock filling you completely. “‘S even better than I imagined,” he groans as he picks up his pace. The tattoo chair squeaks underneath you as he thrusts. His hips are unrelenting as his pelvis meets yours with every slap of skin against skin.

“You look so good on my chair like this,” he grunts, hand reaching in front of you to snake down to your clit. He rubs circles against the nub, your pussy tightening around his cock from the touch of his fingers. “Perfect canvas, and my perfect slut.”

“Yes, Vernon. All yours,” you whimper, clamping down on him harder to bring yourself closer to your second release. It crawls down your spine, inching closer to the center of your thighs and waiting for the perfect moment to hit you all at once.

“Hansol,” he says, breathless. “My real name. Want to hear it come from that pretty mouth.” He snaps his hips harder into you, his tip kissing your cervix with perfect force.

“Yes—fuck! Hansol! I’m gonna come!” 

“I’m right there with you, princess.” Vernon moves faster, presses his fingers against your clit in tighter circles, does anything and everything so you both fall apart at the same time. He wants it as bad as you do, his huffs of pleasure mixing with your whines of ecstasy.

Soon enough, your body shatters around his cock, your release gushing out of you and onto his fingers as he slams himself deeper inside of you. You quake underneath him, holding the chair with a death grip as you ride out the high that turns you into nothing but a mess of pleasure.

He stills after a few more thrusts, warmth filling your insides as he leans forward to groan into your ear at the feelings overwhelming his senses. He runs his fingers across the tattoos of his making once he’s completely still, mesmerized by both his own artwork on your skin and the euphoria he’s just experienced.

Droplets of his cum leak out of you when you both separate, and he finds a random rag in a desk drawer to clean you up with. When you shudder from the sensitivity still coating your nerves, he kisses your cheek and whispers sweet nothings in your ear. You grab your clothes from the floor to put back on, but all you can focus on as you readjust the buttons of your shorts is how cute Vernon’s face looks all flushed and glistening with sweat.

“You know I can tattoo that ridiculous butterfly on you if you really want it.” His eyebrows quirk into mischievous lines, ones that make you giggle.

“I don’t. But maybe you’ll design something worth my while.”

He pulls you in by the hips, reattaching his lips to your with the taste of you on his tongue. It’s perfect, too perfect to believe it’s your reality. Yet, he’s the realest thing in your life now, save for the ink that adorns your skin. He pecks your lips once again before saying, “You know I always do.”

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @jjunberry @yvnempire @addictedtohobi @innocygnet @filmnings @g0r3wh0rre

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊: @kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @pirateeznet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @deoboyznet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑴𝒀 𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑲𝑺 𝒐𝒓 𝑱𝑶𝑰𝑵 𝑴𝒀 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑺 © 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖧𝖤𝖤𝖢𝖧𝖶𝖤; 𝖣𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍.

[pharmasrightarm]

Hello hello!! I just wanna start off by saying how GORGEOUS your art is! Truly inspiring. I was wondering what your process was? Again, your art is truly impressive

Thank you!! Oh man, it was a saga and you've opened a can of worms because my favorite thing to ramble about outside of sad gay space robots is our unholy overlord Photoshop (warning for length)

Hatching workflow: step 1: have too many Doré artbooks The refined process is thumbnail > cleaner sketch > black-and-white base OR 3D render > cut out whites > clean up edges > mask out each building/section > hatching lines with the upcoming layer setup

One:

And another:

Below is the layer setup I use for hatching! First I separated each element into its own folder, with its own mask—

Then used this structure in each folder— I just want the hatching lines to appear black when on lit areas, and white on shadowed areas (as opposed to having to draw part of a line in white and another part in black). So, after separating the lit and shadowed sides, I copied the "Light" layer, clipped it on top of a folder of hatching lines, and inverted its layer mask.

(*I draw on layer masks because it's easier to recolor lines + toggle between drawing and erasing with the "X" shortcut (I have fore- and background colors set to black and white for layer masks))

Sometimes I do a pass of grayscale values and overlay that layer on top as a reference while hatching.

I've two main brushes: one choppier and one smoother and tapered at the ends (for thin lines, 2px-3px). Really thin horiz/vert lines are just the Pencil at 1px.

Black-and-white workflow with 3D:

Tbh at first I only intended to make that one lurking Drift illustration. But I cower from 3D like it’ll kill me, so I turned it into a 3D assignment. First I used that "separate ways" piece to make myself model at low stakes (I just made items from the comic backgrounds and jammed them together), then I modeled the Dead End wide shot and got the final lurking Drift comp from that.

1. Drew enough detail to model (>see the 5th image in this post)

2. Used fSpy to generate a Blender camera that matched my perspective

3. Shoved together the barest essentials of the clinic set in Blender (setting the 5th image in this post as a background image in Viewport)

4. Rendered at hi-res twice: once with lighting, once with Freestyle outlines.

5. Changed clinic design in the close-up, so I went back to revise the wide shot.

In conclusion, my hobby is wrangling Photoshop to minutely speed up the extremely tedious and niche thing I can't stop myself from doing If anyone's got a faster way to do any of this, tell me!!

here's a gif for funsies because I get 1 more image on this post

[eroscomet]

Cellmate Prisoner 516

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Pairing: Vi x Prisoner!Reader

Warnings: Mentions wounds and violence (I think that's all.)

Word count: 2.1k+

A/N: Hey, lovelies! So, recently I finished Arcane and I immediately got to writing after finishing it. I'm thinking of releasing a Cait fic as well but i'll see how this Vi fic does first. I hope you guys like this, and i'm not sure if anyone else has done this idea yet. Let me know if you guys would want me to continue releasing chapters for this fic! If this is your first time reading my work and enjoy it, there's more on my page! I'm sorry in advance for any probable mistakes.

Proof read.

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Days in Stillwater seemed to blend for the inmates, especially those who knew they’d never return to normal civilization. The inmates had created a community there in the prison. It was rare to see inmates fight, most who did were newer inmates who didn’t understand that everyone in there had long accepted their fates. They weren’t willing to fight after they’d come to terms with the fact that they were to be bound by the walls of the prison for life along with the others. Why hold a grudge, right?

However, the lack of fights didn’t mean total peace for the inmates at Stillwater. Enforcers were often the ones who'd steal that peace that inmates tried to keep. If anyone were mouthy for even a second, it’s a beating with the enforcers that they’d face for it. Most were driven to stray away from having fights with the enforcers. There's a saying that goes around, you become the uniform you wear, whether it’s a prisoner uniform or an enforcer uniform. 

That always stood, inmates knew their place and enforcers forced theirs. All but one inmate applied to this saying, inmate 516. The livewire, the undoing of the enforcers, the one with all the audacity. If not called inmate 516 by enforcers, most around the prison knew her as ‘Pink’, a name that she gained from the color of her hair. She had resilience, fight, a fire in her that never ceased. No matter how many times enforcers would beat her for her mouthy talk, it never stopped her.

She’d once roamed the prison on the higher levels where land and nature were still visible. Where the air she’d inhale was the same air as everyone else’s. The more she causes a commotion, however, the lower the level she’d be taken. She never stopped her ‘fuss’, so eventually she made it to the lower levels with the inmates who would never see the light of day or breathe fresh air from the outside. 

Constantly being placed in new areas of the prison, different levels, different blocks, different cellmates. Anything to piss enforcers off, she’d always thought ‘If they’re getting a kick out of my misery, I can at least get one as well’. She lived by that in prison. Her previous cellmate had complained so much about having her as a cellmate that enforcers had finally had enough and moved her to another cell.

This happened to be your cell. Tidy, an organized mess, if you will. You didn’t talk much to the other inmates, only when you’d require trading for different materials. You had a knack for the creation of all kinds, sketching, building, and mapping. Pink, however, had a knack for destroying of all kinds, kicking, punching, training for whatever it was that she’d often mutter angrily about.

“Great, now I'm paired with Mute here.” She groaned as enforcers pushed her into the cell before shutting it. People in the prison had created a nickname for you since you’d never bother to tell them, Mute, they called you for your lack of speech. Which was a choice for you, after realizing that if you’d stopped speaking, people would simply assume that you were mute and wouldn’t have to bother with other inmates.

When she was pushed into the cell, you had momentarily looked away from the sketch on the cell desk. Your eyes met hers, anger was all that you could see in the glint of her eyes. She had a lot of rage, for a reason that you did not know.

“Don’t stare at me like that.” She nearly spat as she looked at you. Your expression hadn’t faltered as well as your gaze on the pink-haired girl. 

“Whatever, at least this time I didn’t get paired with someone who can’t shut up.” She threw her pillow onto the empty cell bed before sitting on the edge of it. Your silence with the inmates at times caused a bit of a ruckus, not all were happy with the fact that you wouldn’t respond to their conversations or threats. Sometimes they resulted in a one-sided fight.

You never fought back, you felt no point in doing so as the inmates loved to bring along a friend or two to accompany them to their ‘fights’. They’d say they were teaching you a lesson by beating you up, a lesson you obviously never understood considering the fact that this often reoccurs with other inmates. You could feel her eyes examining your black eye as you returned your gaze to your sketch.

“Why do you let them do that to you?” Her voice seemed a bit softer and inquisitive as she spoke. You had paused for a moment before deciding to shrug and continue to sketch.

“Tch, why did I even bother asking?” Her words seemed more like a statement to herself than a question as she responded to your silent statement of shrugging, “That is exactly why, because you don’t speak. I can see how that makes people get all worked up.”

Her eyes averted from your black eye to the desk, watching your pencil move swiftly, “What’s this?” She asked curiously as she neared your desk, grabbing a gadget, you quickly swiped it out of her hands. She put her hands up in surrender as she saw you defensively hold the gadget to your chest.

“Hey, hey. I meant no harm, I was just asking.” She said with her hands still up. For a moment, you looked down at the gadget against your chest. You extended your hand and allowed Pink to examine the item. She recognized it as the headpiece of her little sister, Powder,’s grenades, the signature colorful drawings on the headpiece.

“Where did you get this?!” She asked, now with a bit of hostility. Your lack of response angered her as you extended your hand as if asking for the item back, and she quickly slapped it angrily. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, you'd expect it from the other inmates, but Pink? With the way that she is with enforcers, it shouldn’t be surprising but it was. You held your hand with the other as you brought it to your chest, still feeling the stinging sensation.

“What do you know about this?!” She asked, her voice momentarily faltered, barely caught by even your own ears. The way that you seemed clueless to what she was saying, gave her the answer she needed. She scoffed as she tossed the headpiece of a flame chomper to you. You quickly caught it in your hands, safely putting it under your pillow away from Pink. 

“I’d get more out of talking to a wall.” She said with a scoff as she got into bed, shifting onto her side to face the wall.

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About two weeks passed since Pink had become your new cellmate. At first, she had been holding a grudge with you, giving you the silent treatment in return which you didn’t at all mind. You had always preferred silence. Eventually, she broke and began speaking to you, despite not hearing a word in return.

“I want to apologize for what happened a couple of weeks back..” She said as she continued punching the wall as she so often does, you’d taken note that this was a habit of hers to do every day. You’d gotten used to it quickly, assuming it was another ‘training’ thing of hers. 

“It’s just that I recognized that piece—the drawings. My little sister used to make gadgets and draw on them. Bombs, particularly.” She said as she paused her punching, staring at the wall as she spoke. This made you pause as well, the headpiece of the fire chomper in your hand. Your finger had been lightly caressing the cool metal, looking over your shoulder for a moment as Pink explained further.

“I guess it triggered something in me. I'm not a bad person, " she said as she caught your gaze.

You stood up, padding over to her and gently grabbing her hand. You opened her hand and placed the headpiece on her palm before moving her fingers to close around it. After the action, you sent her a small smile, to which she responded with a surprised look.

“You really don’t have to-” She began to speak before you had moved her hand to her chest. You gave her a nod, to which she finally understood. She nodded in return, understanding that you were giving her the item.

“Thank you..” She said quietly and hesitantly. You nodded once more as you returned to your desk. The two of you were silent for a moment before she put the item into her pocket and began punching the wall again. 

“Her name was Powder.” She said, speaking up after having punched the wall a few times. 

“I don’t know if she’s alive or not but what I do know is that when I get my first shot out of here, I'm going to find her. Or at least the man who took her from me.” Her voice was determined like she had thought about this many times.

“That man..took everything from me. He. Will. Pay.” She said a bit more aggressively now as she landed a harder punch on the wall. You winced at the sound, knowing that if it were you punching the wall like that, it would’ve hurt but Pink seemed to handle it like it was nothing.

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Time with Pink in your shared cell felt a little less tense than your first meeting with her. She had gotten a bit more comfortable and you knew that from the way that she’d open up a little every once in a while with stories of her past. She talked of her father, whom she seemed very fond of from the way she spoke of him, she talked of her sister Powder a lot, small stories of memories when the two were younger that warmed your heart.

You’d see that she was a lot more cooled down, with fewer fights with the guards as well as reduced ‘training’, she now seems to only punch the wall a couple of days a week. Everything seemed fine until a new inmate arrived, a man who was bald with many tattoos that seemed to run through his entire body. You’d heard the news that Pink had beaten him up with a tray during dinner, breaking his jaw. When returning to your cell, she was smug but also seemed bothered by the situation.

She muttered to herself as she sat on the edge of her cell’s bed, “A week without leaving the cell, that’s what they gave me.” She said as she looked at you, her gaze was hardened. Your jaw is slightly clenched with a bit of worry for the girl.

“No meals, nothing. That prick deserved what was coming to him. He knew it from the look in his eye when he saw me.” She muttered with a scoff.

One of the perks about trading often with the cook at Stillwater meant special treatment. Often the cook gave you a bit of a better meal or something for dessert. For the next three days, you had snuck food back into your cell for Pink to eat.

“How’d you get this brownie anyway?” She asked with her mouth stuffed, you shrugged it off to no surprise.

“Any news on bald guy?” You shook your head in reply to her question. “Good, I hope to hear not a peep out of him after that.”

There it was again, the rage in her eye you had seen when she first came into your cell. She was angry again, more now that this man was in Stillwater. But you couldn’t figure out why.

“He’s a part of Silco’s henchmen. Dirty rat finally got caught.” She said with a scoff as she continued to eat. You hesitantly placed your hand on her shoulder, she looked up at you with surprise. She sighed as she paused, once again allowing her shoulders to no longer be tensed.

“Yeah, I know. He just..ticks me off.” You simply nodded to her words in understanding before gently patting her shoulder. 

“Thanks anyway, for the food or whatever..” She mumbled as she continued to eat, you smiled softly before heading to your desk as you usually do. A bit of silence came over the two of you before she spoke.

“Do you like that they call you Mute here?”

You paused for a moment as you shook your head.

“Then why do you..not talk?”

You seemed to be in thought as you shrugged again.

“I'm not trying to be mean but maybe people would get off your case if you spoke. Can you even speak at all?” To which you nodded to her words, she only took a moment to examine your face which had healed from the black eye she first saw you with.

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A/N: Guys, let me know what you guys think. If you guys want me to make this a series or not, if it is, it might be a little bit of a slow burn, I will include the other characters later on as well. Thank you so much for reading, new readers can check out my works on my page. Everyone is welcome to request stuff as well!

[wombywoo]

Ok! I've finally decided to put together a (somewhat) comprehensive tutorial on my latest art~

Please enjoy this little step-by-step 💁‍♀️

First things first--references!

Now I'm not saying you have to go overboard, but I always find that this is a crucial starting point in any art piece I intend on making. Especially if you're a detail freak like me and want to make it as realistic as possible 🙃

As such, your web browser should look like this at any given point:

Since this is a historical piece, it means hours upon hours of meaningless research just to see what color the socks are, but...again. that isn't, strictly, necessary 😅

Once I've compiled all my lovely ref pics, I usually dump them into a big-ass collage ⬇️

(I will end up not using half of these, alas :'D)

Another reference search for background material, and getting to showcase our models of choice for this occasion~

When picking a reference for an actor or model, the main thing I keep in mind (besides prettiness 🤭) is lighting and orientation. Because I already kinda know what pose I'm gonna go with for this piece, I can look for specific angles that might fit the criteria. I should mention that I am a reference hound, and my current COD actor ref folder looks like this:

Also keep in mind, if you're using a ref that you need to flip, make sure you adjust accordingly. This especially applies to clothing, as certain things like pants zippers and belt buckles can be quite specific ☝️

Now that we've spent countless hours googling, it's time to start with a rough sketch:

It doesn't have to be pretty, folks, just a basic guideline of where you want the figures to be.

The next step is to define it more, and I know this looks like that 'how to draw an owl' meme, but I promise--getting from the loose sketch above to below is not that difficult.

Things to keep in mind are--don't go too in-depth with the details, because things are still subject to change at this point. In terms of making a suitable anatomically-correct sketch, I would suggest lots of studying. This doesn't even have to be things like figure drawing, I genuinely look at people around me for inspiration all the time. Familiarize yourself with the human form, and things like weight, proportions, posing will seem a little more feasible.

It's also important at this stage to consider your composition. Remember to flip the canvas frequently to make sure you're not leaning to one side too often. I'm sure something can be said for the spiral fibonacci stuff, which I don't really try to do on purpose, but I think keeping things like symmetry and balance in mind is a good start ✌️

Next step is just blocking in the figures. Standard. No fuss 👍

Now onto the background!

It's frankly hilarious how many people thought I was *hand-drawing* these maps and stuff 😂😂 I cannot even begin to comprehend how insanely difficult that would be. So yeah, we're just taking the lazy copy and paste way out 🤙

I almost always prepare my backgrounds first, and this is mostly to get a general color scheme off the bat. For collage work, it's really just a matter of trial and error, sticking this here, slapping this there, etc. I like to futz around with different overlay options until I've found a nice arrangement. Advice for this is just--go nuts 🤷‍♀️

Next, I add a few color adjustments. I tend to make at least 2 colors pop in an art piece, and low and behold, they usually tend to be red and blue ❤️💙There's something about warm/cool vibes, idk man..

Now we move on to coloring the figures. This is just a basic block and fill, not really defining any of the details yet.

Next, we add some cursory values. Sloppy airbrush works fine, it'll look better soon I promise 🙏

And now--rendering!

I know a lot of beginner artists are intimidated by rendering, and I can totally understand why. It's just one of those things you have to commit to 💪

I've decided to show a brief process of rendering our dear Johnny's face here:

Starting off, I usually rely on the trusty airbrush just to get some color values going. Note--I've kept my sketch layer on top, but feel free to turn it on and off as you work, so as to not be too bound to the sketch. For now, it's just a guideline.

This next stage may look like a huge jump, but it's really just adding more to the foundation. I try to think of it like putting on make-up in a way~ Adding contours, accentuating highlights. This is also where I start adding in more saturation, especially around areas such as ears, nose and lips. Still a bit fuzzy at this point, but that's why we keep adding to it 💪

A boy has appeared! See--now I've removed most of the line layer, and it holds up on its own. I'll admit that in order to achieve this realistic style, you'll need lots and lots of practice and skill, which shouldn't be discouraging! Just motivate yourself with the prospect of getting to look at pretty men for countless hours 🙆‍♀️

I'll probably do a more in-depth explanation about rendering at some point, but let's keep this rolling~

Moving forward is just a process of adding to the figures bit by bit. I do lean towards filling in each section from top to bottom, but you can feel free to pop around to certain parts that appeal to you more. I almost always do the faces first though, because if they end up sucking, I feel less guilty about scrapping it 😂 But no--I think he's pretty enough to proceed 😚

They're coming together now 🙆‍♀️ Another helpful tip--make sure you reuse color. By that, I mean--try to incorporate various colors throughout your piece, using the eyedropper tool to keep a consistent palette. I try to put in bits of red and blue where I can

Here they are fully rendered! Notice I've made a few subtle changes from the sketch, like adjusting the belt buckles because I made a mistake 😬 Hence why you shouldn't put too much stock in your initial sketch~

The next step is more of a stylistic choice, but I usually go over everything with an outline, typically in a bright color like green. Occasionally, I can just use my initial line layer, but for this, I've made a brand new, cleaner line 👍

And the final step is adjusting the color and adding some text:

Tada!! It's done!

All in all, this took me the better part of a week, but I have a lot of free time, so yeah ✌️

I hope you appreciated that little walkthrough~ I know people have been asking me how I do my art, but the truth is--I usually have no clue how to explain myself 😅 So have this half-assed tutorial~

As a bonus, here is a cute (cursed) image of Johnny without his mustache:

A baby, a literal infant child !!! who put this wee bairn on the front lines ??! 😭

Anyway! peace out ✌️