#No idea where my undo and redo buttons went

[starswirly]

Ink -> Comyet

Ink aka my favorite drawing test subject :]

[creativepawsworld]

Silence - Chapter 40

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary = Ana can’t seem to settle after learning about the death of the young boy at the hands of Arthur. Tommy tries to take her mind off it but her late night thoughts brings back some fond memories.

Warnings = Language, Grammar, Violence,  Death mentioned, Gang Activity, PTSD, fluff, sexual things mentioned / implied

Word Count = 2376

Note = Okay so this chapter does include mentions of PTSD in a form of a flashback... Its a bit of a heavy chapter I suppose so please take care when reading. 

I couldn’t settle when I went home that afternoon. My mind returned to seeing the far off look in Arthur’s eyes, he didn’t want to kill that young boy I could see it in his eyes but the fact of the matter was, he did.  A mother had lost her son.

His entire life was cut short before him because he got into a ring with an unstable minded man who couldn’t get the help he needed. His poor mother, I couldn’t even fathom how she must be feeling.

Chewing on the corner of my lips, I looked over at the table where Tommy was hunched over reading the paperwork he had at home. The man was a workaholic, everywhere he went, there was always something to be done.

Inhaling to myself, I picked at my fingernails before standing to my feet, walking towards the coat rack, removing the garment from the hook.

“Where do you think you are going?” Tommy asked without so much as a glance in my direction. He just heard my feet walking away from him and called out.

“I need a walk, something to clear my head I can’t settle” I tell him wrapping the coat around my shoulders and doing up the buttons.

Tommy had tossed his pen onto his work, leaning back onto his chair with a deep sigh as he stared over at me, resting his hands on his thighs.

“Take off the coat and come here” He breathed out, lifting his left hand, waving me over to him. “Please” He added sensing my resistance.

With a nod, I unbuttoned the coat, returning it back to the hook before making my way back towards him, my hand outstretched as I grasp his. Pulling me into his lap, I scooted further across his two thighs to get more comfortable.

“Today was an accident, Arthur…”

“I know Tommy. He didn’t get the help he needed after the war. I’ve heard a lot about men like him. It’s terrifying but it’s not entirely their fault.” I nodded turning to face him, our noses briefly touching at the closeness. “I’m just grateful James didn’t come back with something so terrible.”

“James fought in the war?” He asked, reaching up tucking a strand of blond hair behind my ear.

“Mmhmm so did my father. We never talked about it though. Kind of like you.” I nodded, allowing my fingers to play with the buttons of his shirt, undoing them, only to redo them straight after.

“I don’t talk about the war to anyone Stace.”

“I know, James and my father were the same Tommy” I nodded, glancing up at him through my eyelashes. “Besides, I’ve got a brief idea of your internal trauma, with your nightmares."

Tommy body language seized up at the mention of his nightmares, it was something he was ashamed of and tried his best to hide. But I saw him as a man who had been subjected to the worst kind of mental and physical torture but still managed to stand tall, a hero.

“I’m not scared Tommy, I know you expect me to be given my past. But I’m not.” I tell him, deciding to leave the top three buttons of his shirt open. “I’ve found peace in your violence. You can’t scare me away.”

“I often wonder what I did to deserve someone like you” Tommy whispered, his hand finding the side of my face. Leaning into his touch, I allowed his thumb to trace along my bottom lip.

“Polly says your mother sent me, try and make you think before you act or something."

"My mother eh?" He nodded, a sadness clouding over his eyes as he forced a small smile onto his face. “You are a lot alike, always seeing the good in people.”.  

“That’s not a bad thing Tommy.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t.” He agreed, thumb now pulling at the corner of my lip.

“Not when your other half is a stubborn, pig headed gangster. It’s nice to have some kind of balance.”

“Stubborn and pig headed?” Tommy let out a deep chuckle, eyes widening at the words I had chosen to describe him. His hand dropped from my face, clasping around my hips squeezing the side playfully.

“We balance each other out it’s okay” I laughed, squirming away from him, only he wouldn’t allow me to actual leave his knees. “We are soulmates.”

“You believe in that stuff?” He asked, stopping his actions to look at me with a questioning eyebrow.

“Well yeah, the is always two people just perfectly right for each other. One who balances out the other. Two halves of a whole. Yin to my yang. Or is it yang to my yin?”

“Okay, I get it.” Tommy interrupted my babbling, lacing his fingers with mine, a small smile on his face. “You’ve been spending to much time with Esme and Polly.”

Rolling my eyes at his lack of input in the conversation, I stood from his lap, making my way into the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. As I waited for the teapot to boil, I felt his arms snake around my waist and face nuzzle into my neck.

“What did I say to upset you eh?” He asked, placing soft, precise kisses along the column of my neck.

“It’s not what you said it was your lack of words Tommy.” I replied, reaching into the cupboard to pull out a mug to pour the hot contents of the teapot into before setting it back on another ring so it would spill over.

“Love, I don’t need to tell you you’re my other half when you already know.” He laughed in my ear. Turning around to face him, I pulled a serious look, pouting my lips to further emphasise my upset.

“It’s nice to hear Tommy.”

“That right?” He asked, pouting his lips, eye wide. Nodding my head I waited to hear the words I wanted to hear except he dropped to his knees instead.

“Tommy what are you doing?” I asked, gasping as soon as I felt his hands grasping the skirt I was wearing into a ball in his hands.

“I like to hear things to Stace, and I haven’t heard those sweet moans coming from your mouth in a long time.”

“Tommy we had sex last night and yesterday morning.” I laughed pushing him away, only slightly knocking him off balance. But he was determined.

“Not those moans.” He smirked, pushing the skirt over my hips. He leaned forward, just about to press his mouth against my clothed core when I slipped away from him.

Looking back at him, his hand was now placed firmly against the oven door which was holding him up. His eyes followed me across the room, a genuine look of shock betraying his once cool exterior.

“You haven’t earn it Mister besides I’m rather tired.”

“You cannot deny me my dinner love.” Tommy spoke, eyebrows almost reaching his hairline as he stood to his feet.

“You need something sustainable for dinner, I’ll make it in a second.” I inform him, fighting off a yawn that had snuck up on me.

“Okay, alrigh’” He nodded, hips placed firmly on his hips not making eye contact until he turned, running a wide hand over his mouth. “I’ll sort the dinner, but right now yeah, I need you to lay in that bed with your legs spread. Understand?”

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he looked at me from across the room. I could feel my arousal already soaking my pants as he rose his eyebrows, waiting on an answer.

“Yes sir.” I nodded, biting on my lip.

Glancing over my shoulder I saw his head tilt to the side watching me walk away and disappear into the bedroom, I wasn’t sure why he suddenly wanted me but I wasn’t going to complain.

*******

Jumping awake, I sat up glancing around the room, the place was in complete darkness. The dream I had scaring me awake. I never usually had nightmares but tonight was different. Leaning of the poor young boys fate had really gotten to me.

Clutching at my chest, I glanced down to Tommy’s sleeping frame. The blanket was reaching along his hips, allowing the deep ‘v’ shape to be on show.

After dinner Tommy had taken me into the bedroom doing everything in his power to make me forgot my own name never mind the events of today and at the time it worked. I had fallen asleep, I just couldn’t stay asleep.

Holding the soft blanket up to my chest I grabbed Tommy’s long sleeve undershirt that rested at the end of the bed, throwing it around my shoulders before gently sliding off the bed, making my way to the kitchen and getting myself a glass of water.

Drinking back small sips, I felt a pounding headache beginning to start. Closing my eyes I tried to imagine myself in any other situation. My mind going back to the time I consider moving to Paris or Scotland, how different would be life been but I knew I wouldn’t be happy.

Despite what he and his family did, I loved Tommy. I loved him more than I ever believed to be possible and it all started that fateful day at the betting shop. I felt a smile growing on my face as I remember being completely taken back by his eyes, still as blue, still as mesmerising as that day. 

Placing the half full glass back on the counter, memories of Tommy and I filled my head, most making me smile, others having me realise how strong we truly were, standing by one another at the toughest of times.

I remembered my first night encountering a nightmare of Tommy’s, it was terrifying. His body started to thrash against the bed, a yell escaping his lips bringing me out of my sleep

Since spending the my first night with Tommy, I had been spending a few nights between my brothers and here, not wanting to overstay my welcome at either home. I would admit I rather enjoyed spending the time in Tommy’s more as the feelings he was able to pull from me was something I was becoming addicted to.

I held the blanket close to my neck enjoying the sleep I was having when I was awoken by a the sound of an almighty scream. It was a scream of deep pain and anguish.

Feeling movement beside me, I opened my eyes noticing Tommy was thrashing about the bed, arms reaching in the air for something or someone. His hands were tense, fingers clasping around nothing.

“NOOO” Tommy roared out, his voice was almost unrecognisable as he wrestled with the air.

Pushing myself up off the bed, realising what was happening I leaned carefully next to him, mindful not to get in the way of his arms as I gently pushed my fingers through his dark thick locks. Stroking his hair, softly while ‘sshing’ him as best I could without getting to close.

“Your alright Tommy, your home.” I soothed hoping that somewhere deep inside of him he could hear me. “Your home, your in bed with me, Stace.” I continued.

My words seemed to have a calming affect on him as the thrashing began to stop, his arms began to fall from the air and onto the bed. Taking that as a good sign, I scooted closer to him, slightly pressing my body against his.

“I’m here Tommy, you are safe” I whispered, pressing a small kiss to his cheek but that was a mistake. His hands wrapped around my upper arms, holding me tightly that I was sure would leave bruises before tossing me to the side of the bed, my back hitting off the wall.

“Stace, fuck.” Tommy spat out. His eyes were so lost, so dark, it was like Tommy no longer existed. He started grabbing at his hair, pulling the longer sides with a far off dazed look in his eyes as he stared at the wall in his bedroom, mumbling something under his breathe.

Standing to his feet, he began to pace the room running hand after hand down his face before finally standing still. Hands pressed against his hips as he stared up towards the ceiling.

Cautiously sliding off the bed, I approached the man in front of me, his long sleeved undershirt falling over my intimate areas as I stood next to him. Wrapping my hands around his waist, I felt him stiffen beneath me but I refused to let him go.

“Your safe Tommy, your safe” I spoke, loud enough so he could hear it but quiet enough so the others in the house wouldn’t know I was here.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Tommy spoke, his voice returning back to the one I found myself falling for. “I’m not…I could hurt you.”

“You would never hurt me intentionally Tommy.” I tell him, resting my chin on his bare chest, my eyes falling on his Romani sun before travelling up to his eyes. “I’m here because I want to be, what happened tonight will not scare me away.”

Smiling at the memory, I lifted my hand taking the flower pendant he had given me for Christmas in my hand, squeezing it. As much as he showed the world he was well put together, he was still broken, still in need of so much love.

With that thought in mind, I emptied the rest of the water into the sink, placing the glass on the draining board before carefully making my way back into the bedroom. 

Looking over at Tommy’s sleeping form, I felt myself becoming more determined than ever to protect him, from what I didn’t know but I knew I couldn’t be without him. I couldn’t let him lose himself like Arthur. 

Slipping into the bed next to him, I cuddled into his side. Tommy threw his arm over my shoulders allowing me to come closer, snuggling my face on his bare chest before laying my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. 

“You alright love?” Tommy asked, voice rugged with sleep. 

“I will be.”

  Taglist 

@shelbyteller @seleneshelby @forgottenpeakywriter @babayaga67 @sweetmilkshakeluminary @slutforcoffein @sydneyyyya @happysparklingshadows @margew76   @midnightmagpiemama  @pierre-gasssllyy​

[george5259999]

Week 6 - Digital Sketching

During the non-teaching week, we were tasked with creating digital sketches, developing the skills taught during week 5's content.

Before any sketching and drawing took place, we were tasked with gathering reference for our pieces on Pinterest. I found that Pinterest managed to curate images much better than google images, Flickr and other image search engines I have used before. I really wasn't aware how powerful it was at creating themed moodboards (Image 1). I am absolutely certain that I will use it for future projects, because I gained lots of insight into different styles and design trends; and it even linked me to some really interesting tutorials.

I selected a few images that I really liked and appreciated; the first being LAMPY by Katarzyna K. I really liked the clean linework and hatching in this piece. Even though it was hand drawn, the shapes and forms are legible, clean and convey the necessary information in as few lines as possible. The linework skill is something I definitely aspire to achieve with more practise.

The next set of images I gained insight from were the chair drawings by Darius Ramirez. This image set really resonated with me because of the clean marker renderings, and the composition of the pieces. I enjoyed that there were overlapping features and lines, but the overall composition remained clean and not too overwhelming. The marker renderings were colourful and sharp, and the minimal palette really worked well with the simple forms. Both these artists produced wonderful works; and I would love to emulate the skills and techniques required to make them. I will definitely continue to look for inspiring designers and skills that will improve my own works.

For the tutorial itself, I started with the online video tutorials from Rob. Even though I feel like I have a lot of experience with Photoshop, it was really interesting to see the workflow of someone with more experience than myself. I found that it was less the technical information like the use of layer masks and clipping masks, but more the process, and artistic design choices where I gained the most insight from these tutorials. Using a digital medium like photoshop, there are many ways to speed up or improve workflow compared to traditional sketching. One of the most important methods from the tutorial was the use of masking and copying (Image 3). Using the initial block-out as the boundaries, applying shadows and highlights is a much faster process as it reduces the clean-up at the end. Another method I used during the blocking out stage was the symmetry tool in Photoshop to create even and symmetrical sides. I found that this allowed me to see the form faster, and iterate through ideas at a quicker rate.

I really liked Rob's use of the Gaussian Blur filter to soften the edges. It allowed me to block in the hard edges and shapes. I found that it was much easier to be conscious of the shadow shapes and highlights when they had hard edges; and softening them out was a simple one click process after the fact. Before seeing this method in practise, I would either have used a soft brush with high opacity, or the smudge tool, which often results in muddy and inconsistent shading. Something I struggled with in this tutorial was the consistency of my linework. The laptop screen was slippery compared to paper, and this led to losing control of the pen - creating a line which was way off the desired trajectory. This was the main reason I was glad to have an undo button and layers to delete. In a way, having the security of redoing a stroke gave me more confidence in my linework.

I added a slight amount of smoothing to the brush to counteract the glassy screen. Going slower meant that I had more control over the curvature. In the end I was happy with how this exercise went. I gained a lot of insight into product design sketching with photoshop, and was eventually able to produce a piece I was happy with (Image 4). I would definitely experiment with different styles and shapes if I were to redo this activity.

I decided that I wanted to try another program as well, so I opened up Sketchbook Pro on my laptop. Sketchbook Pro has a plethora of tools designed specifically to speed up the process of perspective drawing, and I wanted to try them out. The perspective grid tool was extremely powerful, and it allowed me to block out the bounding box of the bottle in under a minute. From the bounding box, I created a freehand sketch of the bottle on a new layer, and when I had created something I was happy with, Reducing the opacity of that layer and using the built-in drawing tools helped create the final linework. I liked this process because it allowed me to work methodically and in stages. I don't think I have full control over Sketchbook as of yet - the perspective was still a bit off due to the fact that I neglected the initial linework and misjudged where to place the ellipses. I found the process of creating a drawing in Sketchbook enjoyable, and the built in Copic marker set made it feel like it was built for Industrial Design.

Even though I am happy with the final product, I would say that my drawings are still not where I would like them to be. I think that my linework could be refined and confident; and my application of colours and lighting are not always appropriate. I would like to continue to complete these exercises on a semi-frequent basis, and use it as a benchmark to track my progress - focusing on my linework and colouring. Overall, I feel like I have already made a lot of improvement in my drawing abilities over the past 6 weeks, and I look forward to evolving them further.

[champagne-bucky]

The Undoing: Four

Summary: The truth about a past life is unveiled.

Warnings: THIS IS A DARK STORY!! dark! Steve Rogers x reader, kidnapping, non con and dub con (or at least mentions of), dark! Bucky Barnes, Stockholm syndrome, grooming, mentions of pregnancy termination and suicide mentions (for one chapter), possibly more tags to be added!

Notes: Ahhh, so here we are, part 4 and the present time in which this story takes place. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get shit done, but I’ve just been so unmotivated and it sucks because I had all these things planned and ughhh procrastination sucks. Anyways enjoy part 4. Please make sure to like, comment, reblog, inbox, and follow for more!! Enjoy :)

PLEASE READ WARNINGS!!

*Present time*

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Sasha. Happy birthday to you,” the small crowd that was Sasha’s family cheered as she blew out her candles.

Finally, her 18th birthday. A day where she is legally considered an adult. A day that her father had promised to grant her the freedoms that she saw the other kids had. A day where she would no longer be sheltered.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” her mother came up to the young woman and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Her father followed suit, a side hug and kiss as she worked on cutting the cake.

“I want the first piece,” one shouted.

“I want a really big piece,” said another.

The shouting amongst her siblings didn’t subside until her father quieted them down with the threat of “no cake at all.”

While her mother busied herself in the kitchen, Sasha’s father was helping his youngest children get their slices of cake. Birthdays and holidays were the only times the Rogers’ family got to indulge in sweet treats. Steve had made it clear that his children were to only eat the healthiest of foods, and his doting wife always complied.

A knock on the door caught Sasha’s attention. While the family was in momentary disarray, Sasha was the only one who ended up hearing the faint series of knocks.

Therefore, she wiped her hands of sweet buttercream icing and made her way to the locked door. The knocks continued on even after she told them to wait a minute. A peek through the peephole revealed a stranger. To be fair, everyone was a stranger to the Rogers’ family. No frequent visitors, friends, even family, the Rogers’ only knew each other.

“Daddy, someones at our door,” Steve abandoned the youngest child to meet Sasha at the door.

Steve glanced through the peephole and for a minute it seemed like he saw a ghost. “It can’t be,” Steve swung open the door so fast that Sasha feared she would get knocked out by it.

“Bucky,” Steve looked at the stranger on the other side of the door.  

“Been a while huh?” The man, Bucky, gives a half grin at Sasha’s father.

“Wow,” Bucky turns to Sasha, “she’s all grown up,” Bucky invites himself in, but before he could get halfway past the threshold Steve stops him.

“Why all of a sudden have you turned up?” Steve gives Bucky a look that says “don’t say too much.”

“Because there’s a party going on,” Bucky then turns to Sasha. “Happy birthday sweetheart. My god, look at you,” Bucky looks her up and down. Sasha looked very taken back by the strange man. Who was he and why did he know your father?

Steve cleared his throat, “uhm, Y/N is in the kitchen cutting the cake. Why don’t you stay for some,” Bucky obliged and made his way into the kitchen.

“Dad, who is he?” Steve was quick to dismiss her question by replying that he’d been an old friend that knew him back when Sasha was first born.

Buck had made his way into the small kitchen, nothing had changed since Steve had brought his now wife here. In that kitchen were a bunch of children, some big and some small, all asking for a slice of Sasha’s birthday cake.

And then there was her, the young women that Bucky once knew, now all grown up with a family of her own. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at how pleasant she looked while serving the youngest children slices of their cake. She turned once she felt a presence at the door. A mix of emotions flashed through her eyes for a moment, but then her confused expression turned into a smile. She gladly walked over to the long time friend and greeted him with a huge smile and open arms.

“Bucky, it’s great to see you,” not a hint of sarcasm or an urgent surge of rage coursed this beautiful woman. She was genuinely happy to see the man that ruined her life prematurely.

“You haven’t aged a day since I last saw you,” Bucky smiled as he hugged her back. She looked nice in her freshly ironed dress and brand new heels her husband had demanded she wear around the house at all times.

“Please, come sit down while we have some cake. Kids, get to the dining room now please,” the herd of small children rushed out into the dining room with their sweet treats in hand.

__

Bucky was observant throughout dessert. Upon dodging judgemental and questioning looks from Steve, Bucky got to know more about the rest of the Rogers family.

“Last time I was here you had just had Gwynedd, yes?” Their mother nodded as a carbon copy of Steve Rogers looked up at him with a smile. She was going to be 17 soon, as she mentioned to the family a handful of times about birthday party ideas.

Then there was the third oldest, Max, a short haired, freckly 15 year old who had dreams of becoming an engineer. Reid was approaching 13 years old in the next couple of months, he was adamant on a firetruck themed party seeing as he wanted to be a fireman when he grew up. 11 year old Jocelyn had the same physique as her mother, but her personality was all Steve, she was sassy and always helping out her younger sibling. Last, and probably won’t be the least, was 9 year old Sarah Rogers, named accordingly after Steve’s long departed mother of course, she was the prized baby of the family that no one could touch.

Then there was Sasha, the oldest Rogers. Sasha was 100% her mother, from looks to personality. It was almost like someone hit a copy and paste button on everything Y/N Rogers and stamped it perfectly onto Sasha. Bucky couldn’t believe that the once small baby girl he held in his hands had grown into a beautiful, young woman. Bucky was snapped out of his thoughts when Steve called his name.  

“So, um, Bucky, what plans do you have for the summer?”

“Daddy says we might be able to go to the seashore this summer if we all behave,” Sarah shouted with her mouthful of cake. Her mother scolded her for interrupting Bucky and Steve.

“Well that sounds a lot more exciting than what I’m doing, Sarah. I’ll be fixing up this old house I bought a few blocks over from you guys. I got it for cheap so I want to do some remodeling and maybe sell the place before autumn.”

“Why would you buy a house just to sell it again in a few months?” It was Gwenyd’s turn to interrupt this time.

“It’s called house flipping Gwen, people buy crappy houses and pour all their money into it so they can get stinkn’ rich off the place,” Sasha finally spoke up.

“Sash, remember we don’t use words like that in front of the younger ones,” her mother reminded her before putting her head down and eating the rest of her cake slice.

“You’re very correct Sasha. Think of this as a new hobby of mine, Steve, taking something old and run down and forming it into something new and modern.”

“So what are you going to do to it?” Gwenyd asked.

“Well I'm going to redo the whole structure of the outside, maybe add in a pool and deck area in the backyard. The inside I’m planning on gutting the whole thing and putting in my own personal touches,” the children all ooh’d and ahh’d at the idea.

The wheels in Bucky’s head were turning for a moment. He looked at sweet Sasha and the other kids. He couldn’t just leave them caged up in this house for the summer. He knows Steve. He knows that he’ll keep them locked up inside for fear of one of the children saying something about their unusual situation. He didn’t want to leave Sasha most of all. 18 years old and definitely hasn’t gotten a chance to explore the world. He wanted to help them.

“Say, kids, redoing a big house is a lot of work for one man. How about you guys help me out and I’ll give you some money for your seashore trip,” Reid jumped out of his chair all excited.

“Daddy, Mommy, please please please let us help Bucky. Please!” Steve quieted Reid down.

Their mother kept her head down. She would love for them to get out of the house for a bit, but Steve makes all the rules.

“I’ll have to think about it, Bucky,” Steve said which caused the younger siblings to groan.

“I think it’ll be fun, dad. We get a little bit of work experience, we’ll be kept busy for a couple weeks, and we can make our own money,” Sasha spoke up and Gwenyd was giving her dad a thumbs up to agree with her older sister.

“I said I’ll think about it, girls,” Steve said sternly while finishing off his cake.

Steve couldn’t help but glare at Bucky throughout the rest of dessert. Something just wasn’t right about Bucky’s abrupt visit. Steve’s wife didn’t seem to care much because she enjoyed getting visitors, but Bucky wasn’t a frequent visitor in their home.

Bucky left Steve soon after Gweyndd was born. He stayed around because Steve needed someone to help take care of Sasha while he was busy breaking in his wife. Steve never told Bucky to leave him after that, he would’ve preferred if Bucky stayed around to be in their lives. However, one morning he took off and never came back, he even went as far as breaking all contact with Steve.

Dessert was over and the kids were helping their mother clean up. Steve offered to help, but the kids hopped right to it, cleaning down the table and loading the dishes into the sink. While they were busy, Steve led Bucky into their family room with a couple beers in his hands.

“So, why are you really here?” Bucky laughed.

“Stevie, I just said I was stopping by. Sasha’s 18th birthday is a pretty big deal. No longer a young girl, but a grown woman,” Steve seethed at his response.

“So after all these years of no contact you just decided to show up again after like everything is okay?” Bucky looked at their surroundings to see if anyone was listening. When the coast was cleared he finally spoke up.

“I had the cops on my ass since that first week. That stupid family next door had cameras showing me getting Y/N to come outside with me. Lucky I convinced Sam to pull those traffic cameras and delete the evidence or we both would’ve been caught.”

“The cops were snooping around and you didn’t think to tell me?” Steve heart rate picked up. He did get questioned by the cops one day, but already rehearsed a solid alibi. Who would've guessed that taking that one drama class in high school gave him solid acting skills.

“I had to lay low. I’m pretty sure they tapped my phone and had P.I.’s following me everywhere I went. Once I was cleared of anything I got a new job and skipped town.”

The case went cold after a few years, Steve guessed that they were trying to pin the disappearance on Bucky, but considering Bucky is standing in front of him today it seems he got off.

“So what do they think happened?” Steve whispered.

“A classic runaway case. The family refuses to accept that she’s gone for good. I got to town every now and then and I hear that the parents go looking for her every night on their own. Everyone gave up on them,” Steve let out a breath of relief. He feared that the cops were still after his wife after all this time. It’s refreshing to find out that the case is really over.

“So, you really taking the kids to the beach?” Bucky smirked already knowing Steve’s response.

“They’ve been hounding me all year that they wanted to get out of the house and do something fun. Had to tell them something to get them off my back.”

“When are you gonna break the news to them?”

“Probably a week before I told them we would go. I’m sure Reid or Joce will do something that’ll make me “change my mind”,” Steve smirked. He really couldn’t risk them going out of the house.

“Why don’t they come with me,” Steve laughed.

“I’m serious, Steve. All that time in the house with the kids, how do you and the missus have any “free time”,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“What we do is none of your business. Plus, I don’t want any of these kids to run their mouths like Sasha did,” Bucky asked what he meant by that. Sweet Sasha would sell out her family like that?

Steve explained the whole situation. She took playing house a little too far and took the kids outside to play. Just as bad luck would have it, the neighbors were also outside when they noticed a bunch of unattended children running around and playing. The nosy bastards kept asking Sasha questions. Did you kids just move in? Where are your parents? You’ve been living here how long?

Fucking CPS got involved and wouldn’t let up on the family. Steve’s wife sure as hell got a punishment of a lifetime. She also had to stay in the basement anytime a social worker would have random visits. Couldn’t risk anything.

To get them off their backs, Steve promised that he would enroll all the children in real schools so they would get more social interaction from their age groups. Yeah, that lasted about a month or two until the social workers stopped coming by. Everyone of them got pulled out of school except for Sasha. She enjoyed learning so much and was already making her way into high school.

It took months of convincing her mother to help her out to convince Steve to let her go to high school. Long nights and heated arguments between the couple was giving Steve major migraines. He finally agreed, but only on a string of strict conditions. Luckily, Sasha was already well behaved at this point so he wasn’t too worried about her fucking up again.

“I think it’ll be a good idea to let the kids come with me. They can learn new things and it’ll get them out of your hair. Think of all the time you and Y/N will have. So much time that you could be giving the kids and new brother or sister,” Steve did perk up at that idea. He has been on his wife for a while now about wanting a new baby, they just aren’t getting many opportunities to try with all the kids around.

Steve thought for a moment, “You’ll make sure they won’t get into any trouble right?”

“I’ll watch them like hawks,” Bucky promised as he saw Sasha coming out of the kitchen to head upstairs.

“Hey daddy, I’m gonna go to bed, but I just wanted to say goodnight. Thank you for a great birthday,” Sasha kissed her father’s cheek.

“It was nice meeting you Bucky,” Bucky smiled at her as she walked upstairs.

“You raised her well, Stevie.”

“Fine,” Bucky was surprised.

“Fine what?”

“You can have the kids help you, but don’t get into anything stupid or I’ll have your head,” Steve threatened as the other children started to come in to say goodnight.

“I’ll be here 8 sharp then,” Bucky got up to leave soon after the kids were getting ready for bed.

Bucky had his own planning to do, and he would make sure he would keep Steve’s word.

__

For something that the children were so excited about, they were relieved that helping Bucky out was over.

What they thought was a couple week project turned into the whole summer. A few fights and temper tantrums later and the house was almost done. However, Bucky wouldn’t need their help any longer. Instead, he agreed that he would keep them longer so Steve had a good excuse to say why their trip wasn’t happening this summer. The kids were so upset that their beach trip got canceled, but Bucky made it up to them by buying them ice cream and letting them watch movies all day one day.

Not only did they get endless amounts of ice cream, but they had a new addition to expect in the next 9 months. Yes, their mother got pregnant again with another child. Bucky could tell Sasha was a little upset by this, but the others were thoroughly excited about a new brother or sister joining the family.

The nights got cooler and the days were getting shorter meaning fall was approaching them. Which meant Sasha would finally be able to get back to school. While most kids dreaded going back Sasha didn’t. She loved school, her teachers, classes, and most of all was getting new books. There has never been a kid who enjoyed reading a European World History book more than Sasha Rogers. Also she couldn’t wait to get some peace and quiet away from her brothers and sisters.

“Sash,” Bucky stopped her before she could walk out of his new house.

“Yeah, Buck,” they had grown rather close during this time, almost as if they were long lost friends.

“I got you something. Think of it as a late birthday present,” Bucky pulled out of his back pocket a rectangular device. Sasha had seen them on TV all the time. In fact, she begged for one for so many years, but her father yelled at her to drop it before he got even more angry.

“I’m not supposed to have one of these. Dad will kill me, he’ll kill you,” Bucky laughed and shoved the phone and its box in her hands.

“It’ll be our secret. Hide this in and don’t tell anyone. Don’t tell mom or Gwen, even your friends at school,” Bucky urged her to take it.

“But I can’t pay for it,” Sasha wasn’t allowed to have a job either.

“I’ll take care of everything. Just to make sure we are clear, don’t do anything stupid with this phone. You tell no one about it at all. If I find anything bad on this phone I won’t hesitate to tell your father, understand?” Sasha gulped and shook her head out of fear of what her father would do.

“Uhm, uh, thank you so much Bucky,” Sasha hugged him.

“It’s no problem at all, Sash.”

Now with a phone in her hand and access to contacting her, Bucky had his own plan in motion.

Tags to be added in comments!!

[meandmypagancrew]

Maybe What You Think Of Me Won’t Change

Did you guys know that in addition to being a gifmaker and a dollmaker, I’m also a writer? I know! I am a woman of many talents most mediocre and useless. Anyway, I wrote this little fic about Clark and Farrah from We Are The Tigers, so if you’re into that kind of thing, give it a read under the cut!

It wasn’t super uncommon for Farrah to suddenly come to and not know where she was or how she got there. So when, in her drunken haze, she had a sudden moment of clarity and found herself outside by a dumpster, she groaned. In the dim light from a streetlight, she took stock as she pushed one of her braids over her shoulder. Clothes? Still on. Phone? Not dead. Purse? There. There wasn’t any vomit or blood or anything. All in all, not the worst night she had ever had.

As she got on shaky feet, she tried to remember what had happened. Marissa had picked her up, and they went to a house party at Rich’s. She had a few flashes of the party, a red solo cup in her hand, Liz doing a keg stand, Kayla and Jason trying to subtly sneak upstairs- but then nothing. Fuck. There was no one around, so how was she supposed to get home? She pulled out her phone again and clicked the home button, being greeted by a picture of Tom Holland as Spiderman- her favorite celebrity crush- and the time 3:42. It was a Thursday, but still summer, so thank God she didn’t have to worry about being up for school. 

She pushed that thought to the back of her mind. First she needed to get home. She unlocked her phone- her home screen was a picture of her and her mom when she was born, which caused her to squint, both because of the lighter color scheme being brighter and the memory of her mom- and clicked to her contacts. Family was strictly out of the question, Annleigh would kill her for waking her up, her stepmom hated her, and her dad wouldn’t be mad but he’d be so disappointed he would probably cry the entire way and making your dad cry is a soul crushing experience.

She sat back down as she scrolled through her contacts. Party friends. A guy who was her partner for a chem project last year. Former Captain Kimberly, future Captain Riley. A guy who was rumored to be a drug dealer, but was only her contact for buying alcohol. Her first try was Marissa- she got her into this, it seemed only natural she’d get her out, but it went straight to voice mail. She kept looking, her drunk mind trying to think. Her finger tapped on Bridget, a girl who had been a cheerleader at Giles Corey but transferred back to public school after her dad had been laid off. They weren’t close, but Bridget had shown her the ropes when she joined the team, and she was a night owl so she should still be awake.

Before the first ring even finished, her usual deadpan voice answered. 

“What.” She said, and Farrah struggled to not sound as drunk as she was as she responded.

“Bridged?” Despite her best efforts, her speech was a little slurred. “Canyou comeaaand git mee?”

“Farrah, it’s almost four AM.” Her voice still had no inflection. Even when sober, it was very difficult to discern where Bridget was standing, and if you were getting anywhere with her. Drunk? It was pretty much impossible.

“Yeeeeaaaaaaah… but Imm stuuuuuuck.” 

“No.” Was the response, unusually harsh for Bridget. 

“Whaa…?” She asked, though she was pretty sure she heard her correctly. It just didn’t seem right. Bridget wouldn’t just abandon her like this, right? As she had so astutely noted it was almost 4 AM- she was the only person who would be awake.

“No. I’m not your babysitter, Farrah. You got yourself into this mess, take some goddamn responsibility for your actions.”

“Buuu… butMarissa took meee dribking-“

“Did Marissa force the alcohol down your throat?” Bridget asked, a little too abruptly and Farrah didn’t respond. She knew she was right, and Bridget knew from her silence she had hit the nail on her head. “You made a choice. You deal with the consequences.”

The line went dead. Bridget’s words were true, but how the hell was Farrah supposed to get out of this? Buses weren’t running this time of night, she didn’t even know where she was, let alone how to get home- she needed help.

As she resumed scrolling through her contacts, a very depressing thought hit her. She didn’t have anyone to call. She was the girl you call for a party, not the girl you depend on when you need help. She didn’t have a single true friend she could depend on right now. There were no clutch friends. To put it quite frankly, she was completely fucked.

As she settled in against the dumpster to wait for daybreak, hoping the sun would bring with it some ideas, a memory she didn’t know she had came to the forefront of her mind. 

“I think she’s asleep.” A voice that must have been Annleigh’s said in her memory. 

She was lying down, but her eyes were closed. From the lights that occasionally shone through her eyelids, the soft rumbling, and the feeling of movement, she must have been in the backseat of the car.

“Okay.” Came another voice, male- Clark. “I’ll carry her in when we get there.”

“You don’t have to do that!” Annleigh immediately replied, and Farrah could picture the heart eyes she was almost undoubtedly making. “You’ve already done so much, helping me come get her.”

“Don’t mention it.” He replied. “I’m happy to help.”

“You must get tired of it.” Annleigh replied with a sigh. “I mean, she’s not even your family.”

“Well, first off, we are all sisters and brothers in the eyes of our Heavenly Father,” She could hear the smile in his voice, and a gentle sound of contact as if Annleigh had playfully hit his arm. When he spoke again, though, the smile was gone. “In all seriousness, though, your family is my family. I will always be there for Farrah, because I love her like a sister.”

The conversation turned to some boring bullshit about theology, so she had tuned it out. But her mind kept coming back to that promise. Did he mean it? Did he say it just because he thought it would win him brownie points? Either way, it was her last possible option, so she navigated to his contact and hit call.

After a few rings, his groggy voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Clark?” She asked, and she could almost feel him snap awake.

“Farrah? What’s happening? Is Annleigh okay? Are you okay?”

“Iiii’m fiiiiine. I need a riiide.”

Clark exhaled, and she felt a little bad for waking him up. He was probably going to do thing Bridget had. This was a speculator waste of time for everyone.

“I’m…. I don’t knoooow…”

“Do you see any landmarks?” He asked, his voice patient even though she could hear him moving about, probably grabbing his keys and heading out.

“Let me… check…” She stumbled a little bit, struggling to hold the phone and climb to her feet. “Oof, okay…”

“Farrah, what’s going on?” He asked, and she waved it off before realizing he couldn’t see her as she meandered out of the alley to the street.

“Iiiit’s fiiine. You worry too much!” 

She put a hand on the wall to steady her as she took stock of her surroundings. Sure enough, she was at a bar, but she didn’t recognize the name and found it highly unlikely Clark would either. Most of the storefronts were dark, and even the ones that weren’t, she felt like the words were spinning in front of her. 

“What do you see?” He asked, and she scrunched up her face.

“Uhhh…” She stalled but then she saw it. She thought it was maybe the most beautiful building she had ever seen in her life, down at the end of the street. “There’s a castle…”

“A… castle?” He asked, confused.

“It’s all white. It’s so pretty. It has flowers.”

“An all white building?” He tried to clarify. “The hospital?”

“No… there’s a man on the building…” She had to squint, but sure enough.

“A man on a castle that’s white with flowers?” The skepticism in his voice was so evident that even in her state she could pick up on it and it annoyed her.

“He’s golden!” She insisted, just wanting him to believe her, that she wasn’t hallucinating.

“A golden man on- the Mormon temple?” He asked, which Farrah couldn’t say for sure, but it seemed like the best bet. “Farrah, are you at the Mormon temple?”

“Nooo… I’m in front of a bar down the street…”

“Okay. Okay. Hold on.” Clark said as Farrah leaned against the wall, already feeling a hangover starting to set in. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Can you hang on for five minutes?”

“Yeah…” She replied, closing her eyes against the light filtering through the bar’s windows.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

Once he hung up, she pocketed her phone after making sure it was on vibration in case something happened. She had considered doing something on her phone while she waited, but even on the lowest setting, it seemed so bright it might burn her. Out of sheer boredom, she started to undo her braids. After all, even if she slept in them, she’d have to redo them tomorrow, because they’d be messy. 

Just as she was relocating her second hair tie to her wrist, and shaking out the braid, the door to the bar opened, and a man walked out. Farrah didn’t notice him at first, busy combing her hair out, but he sure noticed her.

“Oh, hey, pretty girl.” He said and she looked up into eyes that looked at her like she was less of a person and more of a meal. Ugh. She had met so many predatory men like this, and she really wasn’t up to it right now. “What are you doing out here all alone?”

“My ride is coming.” She said, both as an answer to the question and a way of informing him that there was someone who knew where she was supposed to be, so he better not try anything.

“I can take you wherever you need to go, baby.” He was almost purring, which was about as unsettling as being called baby by a stranger twice her age. “Especially if where you need to go is back to my place.”

That statement was punctuated with a wink, and she felt like she needed a shower.

“No, thank you.” She replied, trying to walk the line between being polite enough that he didn’t think she was a cunt and murdered her, but not so polite that he thought she was into him and when she rejected him, didn’t think she was a cunt and murdered her. 

“Aw, come on, I can make you feel reeeeal good.”

He started to advance towards her and Farrah took a step back before she realized that would just back her into an alleyway, which was a dead end. She had no option but to stand her ground.

“I said no!” She almost yelled, and he grabbed her arm.

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that.” She tried to struggle against his grip, but he tightened his grip, which only scared her more. He was so much more powerful than she was.

“Get off of me!” Now she was yelling, a hint of desperation in her voice and he grabbed her other arm as well, which she continued to try to resist, but he was too strong.

“I said don’t be-“

“Get away from her!” She heard a car door slamming and while she couldn’t see who it was, she recognized his voice. The dude’s attention was fractured by the interruption, and his grip loosened as he looked over his shoulder. Farrah took advantage of that to pry herself from his grasp, running straight at Clark, throwing her arms around him and clutching the back of his shirt as tightly as she could, squeezing her eyes shut as she buried her face in his chest. He immediately wrapped one arm around her, holding her close.

“What are you, her boyfriend?” He sneered, and the fear in Farrah’s heart didn’t subside much. What even could Clark do? This guy, he looked like he could be a stunt double for Thor. And Clark? Clark could be the stunt double for Captain America- pre-serum.

“I’m her BROTHER!” He said, his voice taking on a hint of fierceness that Farrah had never heard before, and somehow she knew that he was going to protect her, whatever it took. “And she clearly said no, not to mention the fact that she’s 15! Take one more step towards us and I’m calling the cops on you, you pervert!”

There was a very tense moment, a pregnant pause where Farrah could feel Clark’s heart pounding against her forehead. He talked a big game, but he was terrified. If he called their bluff? The two of them together couldn’t even come close to taking him on, especially in her state. But he must have moved away, because she felt Clark exhale.

“Whatever. She’s a fat bitch anyway.” His voice was moving away, but Clark continued to hold on for several moments. He put his other arm around her before pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“Oh, Farrah…” 

She pulled away and looked up at him, furrowing her eyebrows at the soft murmur, confused about what he meant. Before she could ask, he pulled away even more to open the door of the car for her.

“Let’s get you home.”

She obediently climbed in, again running a hand through her hair as she checked in the mirror her reflection. Her makeup was a mess and she had definitely seen better days, but the wave in her hair was gorgeous. As Clark got into the car next to her and immediately locked the door, she expected him to say something, but he stayed silent. Even as he started the car and some sort of Christian rock- Switchfoot, maybe?- started filtering through his car speakers, a little distorted because the bass was ruined. If Farrah recalled correctly, that was because when Greatest Showman came out, Annleigh adored it so much that not only did she make Clark take her to go see it in the theatres at least six different times, it was the only thing she would listen to and she would play it whenever he drove her anywhere and was not afraid to blast it.

She expected a lecture, some kind of explosion, but instead he just stared straight ahead, clutching the wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His silence was agonizing, and when she finally recognized their surroundings as he turned into their neighborhood, she braved speaking.

“Are you mad?”

“No.” He answered quickly. It wasn’t snapping at her, just a decisive statement.

“Are you sad?”

“No.” It was said the same way and she exhaled in frustration, feeling like she had to get to the bottom of this before he dropped her off, which would be soon despite the meandering streets of the neighborhood that made little sense- Clark was an expert and could navigate it like nobody’s business.

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Are you annoyed?”

“No.”

“Are you disgusted?”

“Farrah, I’m worried.” He said as he pulled in front of the Victorian manor replica that she called her home. 

She was surprised that he cared so much, and surprised at herself that she also felt defensive. As he unbuckled his seatbelt to turn and look at her, she crossed her arms.

“You’re only saying that because of Annleigh. You don’t care about me. Or at least you only care about me as Annleigh’s sister.”

“Farrah, look around.” He said, and she furrowed her eyebrows, turning to him. Look at what? The dark buses that lined the pathway up to the front door? The neighbors across the street who’s porch light was green instead of normal? The empty McDonalds bag at her feet? The little pop figures from whatever weeb shit he was into on the dashboard?

“Do you see Annleigh anywhere?” Her brows still furrowed, she shook her head. Of course Annleigh wasn’t here, she would be inside asleep, like the good little girl she was. “This isn’t an act for her. I’m not even planning on telling her this happened. I’m worried about you because I care about you. Not the Farrah who’s Annleigh’s sister, but the Farrah who’s an amazing flier, the Farrah who knows all the words to Princess Bride and watches it every year on her birthday, the Farrah who hasn’t taken ballet in four years but still sometimes twirls when she thinks no one is looking. I care about the Farrah who goes horseback riding and even if she’s in a skirt refuses to ride side-saddle. I care about the Farrah who hides books in her backpack because she loves to read but would hate for anyone to find out. I care about the Farrah who sits on her phone and pretends not to pay attention to whatever’s on TV but when her dad falls asleep during the middle of an episode and then when he wakes up and asks what he missed, always knows exactly what’s going on. I care about the Farrah who found an abandoned kitten in a rainstorm and took him home and took care of him until she could be rehomed despite the fact that she’s very allergic. I care about the Farrah that named that cat Aaron Purr. I care about that Farrah a whole lot more than I care about Annleigh’s sister.”

She didn’t have a response to that. Clark had only been actively in her life for about a year, since her dad got married, but in that time he had been paying attention. She had gone through the mortifying ordeal of being known by him and she didn’t even realize. But at the same time, even though those things were all true, they all seemed so far away. When was the last time she had danced? Finished a book? Gone horse riding at all? The person he described sounded like such a nice person, she wanted her back. When she realized that, she started to cry.

“Oh- oh, no, no, Farrah, please don’t cry-“ Clark started to panic, placing a hand on her back as she dropped her head into her hands as he continued to move around as if looking for something. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, I just think you’re an amazing young woman and if you keep getting into bad situations like you did tonight, I don’t know what’s going to happen-“

“Help me.” She managed to get out through her sobs, and he suddenly stilled.

“What?”

“Help me. Please.” Once she started, it seemed like she couldn’t stop, even though the plea had to be filtered through sobs and snot. “I know I’m in trouble, but I don’t know how to stop- I can’t stop. I know everyone hates me, even my friends, and I know that it’s gone too far, but I’m scared, Clark, I’m so scared-“

“Hey, hey, shhh…” His voice brought her to an immediate halt, bringing her back to earth. She looked up at him, and even with her smeared mascara, snotty nose, tear stained cheeks, and red, puffy eyes, he didn’t turn away. He didn’t recoil in disgust. He offered her some napkins from a fast food chain he must have found somewhere with an encouraging smile. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll talk to your parents with you about it. If you have to go to rehab, I’ll visit you there and write. A bunch of my friends have sisters about your age, I’ll introduce you to them and maybe you’ll really hit it off and find some better friends. It won’t be easy, but I promise you don’t have to do it alone. Just say when.”

She accepted his offering and transferred her makeup from her face to the little caricature of the Grecian from the Little Ceasers logo, thinking hard about it. Right now was not an option, even with the sun beginning to appear on the horizon, she didn’t want to wake anyone up. But she also knew if she waited too long, she would lose her nerve. She was already starting to waver as she pulled herself back together. Surely things weren’t that bad, right? She could handle it on her own. But Clark was still looking at her for an answer.

“The day after tomorrow.” She finally said, and he seemed a little confused about the random time, so she explained. “The cheer sleepover is tomorrow night. You’re picking Annleigh and I up in the morning. When you drop us off, my parents should be home.”

Understanding the timeline, he nodded. It would give him enough time to research how to be a support system for her, and it would give her enough time to figure out how to backtrack, and tell Clark she didn’t really mean it and she was actually fine. That decided, she sling her purse over her shoulder and opened the car door to get out.

“Farrah?” He asked as she put her foot on the sidewalk, and she turned a little to look at him.

“Hmm?”

The light in the interior turned on when she opened the door, so she could see him clearly for the first time all night. He looked tired, but still as charismatically cheerful as ever, the human equivalent of a golden retriever. 

“Chin up, buttercup.”

He gave her shoulder a playful punch and she couldn’t help but smile back before fully getting out of the car. As she walked up to her door, she thought that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad after all. Maybe he could help her find the girl he saw again, and she could be better. As she opened the door she looked back. He was still waiting and gave a small wave. She waved back before taking a deep breath and stepping inside, hearing his car start up again and drive off as the door closed behind her.

[scrawler-jay]

of mice and artblock

So, midterms happened and I abandoned this blog for a while. But now I’m back, and I come bearing mice.

*

I’ve been really struggling with finding subjects I like to draw. I’m happy to work on skeleton studies until Judgment Day to better understand anatomy, but I know I need to balance “homework” art with “for fun” art, or else risk losing motivation for learning to draw -- and I’m so used to writing fiction at this point that no subject really appeals to me artistically unless it’s got 5,000+ words of story attached (or at least some narrative/character ideas, yanno -- something for my brain to pick at). The obvious solution is to draw concept art and characters from my written stories, but I feel really intimidated by that because I’m such a beginner artist that nothing I create now will do justice to the vision I have in my head.

I need art OCs and concepts – things that I will only draw art of, and have never written a story about. Stuff that doesn’t have to match a previously established, written story, and that I can change as I learn more and my skills improve.

I ended up drawing a bunch of mice.

This was initially just a whim. Human anatomy requires a lot of skill to pull off, especially faces and hands, but mice felt more beginner-friendly to me. Admittedly, I was going for a more cartoony style as opposed to photorealism, so if you’re looking at this from a realism perspective then these are pretty poor mice. However, I don’t feel ashamed of them, which I am taking as a good sign.

I kept drawing one mouse over and over. I ended up calling him Leo just because it was funny – “leo” refers to lions, but here Leo is just a little mouse. But of course, giving him a name (and a gender, incidentally) is the start of a story. Via a flight of fancy, I got it into my head that I wanted to do a painting of Leo trying to catch a big snowflake. I made some thumbnails of what I wanted the scene to look like, and then cut out a roughly 7 inch x 7 inch piece of watercolor paper from a big sheet that I had under my bed, sketched the scene in pencil, and then finished with watercolor pencils (and a white gel pen for the snowflakes). The process probably took 2.5 to 3 hours.

So, now the lore is that Leo is a mouse living in a little house in an old tree at the edge of the woods, and he wears a red scarf. I did not like this painting. It seemed over-saturated and the colors didn’t quite work the way I wanted them to. I ended up watching a tutorial on color theory, and decided to redo the painting using my newfound knowledge of color schemes. I used this color palette tool to get an idea of what kinds of colors would look good together, and settled on a complementary scheme with bluish green and brownish red.

And then, everything went wrong.

I tried to redo the painting, still working traditionally. I rushed the sketch because I was so eager to get right into working with color. This time, to avoid over-saturation, I used watercolors out of a pan rather than in pencil form. Mixing the colors in the lid of the pan took a really long time because I was so picky about shades, and because I continued rushing I didn’t allow the layers enough time to dry. Leo’s scarf (now green instead of red) bled into his russet fur, and the mailbox was the wrong shape, and I tried to erase a pencil line and created a dark blotch over an area that was supposed to be white with snow – and then I gave up.

I had downloaded Krita, a piece of digital drawing/painting software, a while ago, but hadn’t had any success using it because my desk isn’t big enough to accommodate both a laptop and my small tablet. Using my lap to hold the tablet was an exercise in frustration, and I knew so little about how digital art works that I just felt really overwhelmed and lost whenever I opened the program.

However, Krita (like most digital art software) has an undo button that I find very alluring, so I decided to try it again, now on a shiny new desk from Ikea that is actually big enough to support tablet and laptop together. I think just the space on the desk really made all the difference, but also I was determined to get this artwork of a mouse to a place where I felt satisfied with it.

I spent a solid 5 hours working on what ended up being a very simple colored drawing of a mouse catching a snowflake outside his little house. I barely blended anything at all, and there’s no light source that required me to shade anything – it’s just flat color. However, I really like these colors, and I think I did well (for an absolute beginner). I want to go back and add textures/shading to give an impression of depth, but I'm not sure how.

Leo – like all of my figures – feels really stiff, so I also want to work on gestures/studies of mice doing things. And, thanks to the popularity of mice as lab animals and pets, there are way more reference photos of mice than I expected! Most refs depict the house mouse, Mus musculus, but I did find the work of a wildlife photographer named Dean Mason who spent 15 years photographing harvest mice (micromys minutus).

Unfortunately, all of the prior artwork in this post I had drawn almost purely from imagination, and I think it shows. I studied two mice from photos in pencil, then erased the lines until they were barely visible and tried to do the fur texture in ink (with a dip pen, so there is some unevenness when the pen was extra inky).

Left is my first attempt doing the fur texture. I was more cautious with layering pen strokes, so you can see the lines of strokes fairly evenly. Right is my 2nd attempt, where I was bolder with the pen. I like these mice more than the one I created in the digital painting; these ones (especially the right) feel more Beatrix Potter-ish, which is a vibe I like.

Do I want to go back and fix the anatomy in my digital art of Leo? Yes. I also want to take another stab at doing this piece traditionally, but this time, I'd go monochrome and try to do everything in brown. However, part of me is exhausted from drawing ten million snowflakes and does not want to relive that experience with a gel pen -- I've already done it once with a tablet pen, and that was enough.

I have a hazy, far-off goal of creating a comic of Leo having adventures with another mousy friend, but that’s so far in the future that it’s not worth spending time considering right now. In the nearer future, however, Leo’s friend might become a reality – I know he’s an albino mouse (name TBD) who either escaped from a drug-testing facility (I loved The Secret of NIMH movie as a kid) or else is a pet who was dumped into the wild by a human owner who no longer wanted him. Leo is outgoing and adventurous, and this friend is shy and cautious.

[anna-rivera-aub]

Words - Experimentation #4

31 January 2022:

Woke up today logged on to the weekly Monday morning webinar and sat there for 3 wish hours listening to how to write an essay in the easiest steps imaginable that I wondered really if anyone else sitting there with me didn’t know how to write an essay and then would question humanity if someone was confused or didn’t understand. But I was there the whole time, so I am proud of myself for that at least. It was there I also learned that we have been having Marcus tech lessons for the past weeks and I wasn’t aware because my calendar had indicated differently. I believed it to be optional help with adobe etc. I WAS WRONG! But now he knows that and it will be resolved. So I went today to the photoshop thing about working with animator software. So I got to see him draw the background and then get it moving. While he was doing that though I did not stray from my time plan and I experimented with Photoshop. I tried to download Illustrator…. But my computer was having an off day or weekend and would allow me to do so… I kept getting an error notification. So I decided I wouldn’t go where I was not wanted and stuck to photoshop instead.

In photoshop I drew a bit and then I played with the tools, brushes and layers. I came out with a couple of cool pieces, and while I admit that photoshops brushes are pretty cool, I don’t like its layout. With the software I usually draw in I have a navigator, I have an undo and redo button visible and don’t have to go into “edit” same with zoom in and out. Of course these are technicalities that I attempted to resolve but couldn’t find how to do that. So while I understand how it works and I love the cool brushes, to draw in personally I find it a pain. Therefore for the finalising of my project I will keep working on the software I know and love. While it is a free software I have thought onto moving into Clip Studio paint but I am hanging around deciding for the moment. I would prefer to be able to have procreate but its not available on Mac. Anyhoo I enjoyed playing around with the tools available and came up with some cool end results. I was inspired by what someone said in Marcus tech lesson, about how the desert he had draw said “lesbian right” as it was in the colours of the lesbian flag. So I did my experiments with the colours of the Bisexual flag… and then one for the lesbian one too because the colours there are beautiful.

I also managed to finish my personal statement!! And I worked on my portfolio and home assignments over the weekend. Portfolio was updated and changing by notes received and home assignments was generating ideas which I managed to do succesfully! I believe I am giving it my all in these home assignments, which is better than last year in which I did them in a weeks tile because I was late… and misunderstood the system. I also remembered why I planned to be done with this In March is because for uni 3 they only start the application process in march… so I wanted to make sure nothing else got in the way. But its ok because the way things are going with Words and both HA projects I should be able to be done by then. Everything good, we just won’t have a moment of peace for a while.

Lol but who needs sleep these days… not me.

Kay so I have no clue what’s going on tomorrow, aside from my weekly virtual studio’s. I think I’m having a tutorial…. Emphasis on the I THINK. Otherwise time to start sketching out those Prologue pages!! Also realised I would need to have a name for my story and my idea was… Our darkest future …. Which I guess can come a bit from “the darkest minds” but I would like to think it works as their futures are unclear but as far as they can see it’s a dark one. Who knows it might change.

[sumigakure]

Photogenic

Fanfiction, A03, Original Post

Rating: T, maybe teen plus? Is that a thing?  Words: 2700  Summary:  Halloween party prompt fill. In which Gai dresses as Kakahi and gets all the girls while Genma sulks (but not for too long). Genma/Kakashi pairing implied  Pairing: Genma/Kakashi   Warning: Mild language, Genma warning, implied adult situations  Author’s Note: This is a prompt fill for Sumigakure’s Halloween Event on tumblr. Prompt 10: Halloween Party. It’s not what I planned at all but Genma and Sukea stole the show, so sorry not sorry?

“You can not go as a ninja,” Genma grumbled. “The whole point of Halloween is to be someone different.”

“I’m not just going as any ninja,” Gai said dramatically, spinning in a circle to present his former teammate with a characteristic thumbs up. “I’m a copy of the Copy Ninja.”

For once, Gai had forgone his green jumpsuit in favor of the standard issue jonin blues and green flak vest. The leg weights or leg warmers, Genma was never quite sure which, were missing as well. A matching blue headband slanted over Gai’s left eye while his face hid behind a half mask. Somehow, the jonin had managed to frost his dark hair to silver, and copious amounts of hairspray held it upright. In poor lighting, and with enough alcohol, he might possibly pass for Kakashi. At least, until he opened his mouth.

While Genma had opted for a more tradition costume, he’d gone overboard as usual. Anko had showed him a contouring trick that paled his skin, made his cheekbones more prominent, and drew attention to his hazel eyes. While, make-up wasn’t normally his thing, Genma decided Halloween could be an exception. Both iconic bandana and senbon were missing, which almost never happened, and Genma’s brown hair had been slicked back from his face.

The tokujo toyed with the buttons of his shirt, undoing two, then redoing the lowest. The white fabric hugged his muscles, and the open collar provided a peek at the black choker around his throat. His black pants were tight enough that Genma practically had to shimmy into them, and he wasn’t entirely sure that he could get them back off. But if the night went the way he was planning, that wouldn’t be his problem anyway.

“Kakashi is going to flip when he sees you,” Genma said as he pulled on a deep crimson vest, then a high collared cape. He’d selected one that was short enough to show off his most valuable asset. There would be no point in tight pants if he hid behind a cape. Pearly fangs peeked through Genma’s wine colored lips, and he clicked them together, grinning. These were almost as good as senbon.

Gai paused in the middle of one-legged squats when Genma’s words finally sank home. “You think my eternal rival will challenge me to a contest of flips? We haven’t done that one yet.”

Genma shook his head, not bothering to explain the idiom to the other man. “We’re already late, let’s just go.”

Music reached Genma’s ears long before he found the place the Halloween Party was supposed to be held. Since it had taken him longer to get ready than he’d planned, the room was already full of people. A civilian in an ANBU costume greeted Genma and Gai as soon as they stepped through the door. Genma could tell by the muscle tone of her bared arms that she wasn’t shinobi, but the tightness of her shirt more than made up for that. Perhaps the most surprising thing about her, however, was that she flirted with Gai, rather than Genma. Her hand rested on his arm, and she trilled with laughter over something that Genma was ninety-five percent sure wasn’t funny.

Oh Kami, she really believes it’s Kakashi, Genma realized with a start. He wasn’t about to try and explain the woman’s mistake.

A cursory glance around the room revealed several familiar faces. The hulking mass of werewolf leaning against the wall next to a petite mummy had to be Asuma and Kurenai. Their bodies were far too close for friendship, no matter what they claimed. Anko stood by the drinks, skin green with makeup and red with fake wounds to make her look like a ghoul. At least, Genma thought they were fake; shinobi lead difficult lives, the scars might have been her own. Her outfit, some kind of wrappings that looked like cobwebs, managed to be more revealing than her normal attire.

Extracting Gai from the “ANBU” temporarily, Genma dragged him deeper into the room. As he navigated through the sea of disguised yet recognizable faces, he found himself looking for Kakashi. It wasn’t that Genma had spent extra time getting ready because he thought Kakashi might be here. It definitely wasn’t that Genma wanting the man to see him in something other than his uniform. He just wanted to see the Copy Nin’s face-well his eye-when he saw Gai’s costume. That was all.

Anko grinned at Genma as she handed him a red plastic cup of some sugar laced concoction that was supposed to pass for punch. Her eyes swept over the vampire from head to toe. “You’re almost pretty enough to taste my blood instead of the other way around.”

“Almost,” Genma returned with a chuckle. Though he was rougher than average in the bedroom, he had never understood the woman’s fascination with blood.

Gai huffed in annoyance as he looked at the cup in his hand. “How does my eternal rival manage to drink things?”

“Carefully,” Genma responded absently. His attention was focused on two pretty women who were watching he and Gai from across the room. One was dressed in a skintight, black bodysuit with cat ears nestled in her raven hair, and the other wore a nurse’s outfit like nothing he’d ever seen on a medical nin. If they instituted that uniform, Genma would have allowed himself be injured far more often. “Do you have a preference of the two?” He nodded his chin toward the women while sipping his drink.

Gai’s visible eye moved to the women, then he seemed to realize what Genma was asking. “It’s unfair to pick a favorite. Surely each flower has its own uniqueness.”

To halt the laughter threatening to spill out, Genma drained his cup. Gai certainly didn’t mean flowers in the sense Genma was thinking, but maybe after tonight, he would. The tokujo refilled his cup before leading his friend over to the women. When their eyes drifted past him to Gai, Genma felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Not again.

“You’re the Copy Ninja aren’t you?” Cat giggled as Nurse moved closer to Gai, touching his chest. Gai mumbled some kind of response that sounded vaguely Kakashi-like and the girls laughed again.

“You’re so pretty you don’t even need a costume, do you?” Nurse asked and Genma almost threw up in his mouth.

After ten minutes, he realized that neither woman knew he existed and excused himself to get another drink.

“Aw, are you feeling left out?” Anko purred, moving closer to Genma’s side. “Look at Gai though,” she nodded to where a third woman had joined his harem.

Genma snorted. “How can they really believe he’s Kakashi?” He finished another glass of the fruity, fizzy nonsense Anko was serving.

After sipping her own drink, the woman shrugged. “Because Kakashi isn’t here, and I doubt he would bother with dressing up if he were.”

Anko rolled her eyes, and pointed out some of the better costumes. A painfully pretty “Madara” stood beside a geisha, chatting easily. Near one of the walls, an unfamiliar boy was dressed entirely in brown with his long hair dyed green. Flowers and branches had been worked through it. The best thing Genma could figure was that he was supposed to be a tree. A shock of silver-white hair caught Genma’s attention, and temporarily stopped his heart, but it was only someone pretending to Tobirama, red marks and all.

“Who’s that?” Genma nodded toward a stranger in jeans, a long grey jacket, and a blue scarf wrapped around his neck.

Anko shrugged. “Some kind of photographer, I think. He said something about capturing memories for future generation when he came to get a drink.”

The pair watched the man move around the room, easily snapping pictures of couples and individuals. A few men and women paused and struck up a conversation with him, but he gracefully slid away from mos. Even the damn photographer, who hadn’t bothered with a costume, was getting more attention than Genma.

“I want some consideration too. Dammit, I worked hard on this makeup,” Genma sulked. Anko flashed an amused smiled, but wisely didn’t say anything.

The later it got, the rowdier the party became. Kakashi-Gai had half a dozen women around him and the cute photographer was talking with Tree Boy, and it looked an awful lot like flirting to Genma. They stood nearly as close as Asuma and Kurenai has been earlier. Speaking of that, the werewolf and mummy were slumped together in a corner of the room, making out in clear view of everyone. So much for secrets, Genma thought. In fact, several couples were doing the same thing around the room. That seemed a bad idea, but Genma couldn’t remember why and was too busy pouting to bother with it anyway. The man who always had a lover on his arm didn’t even have a prospective, and Kakashi still hadn’t shown up.

For some reason, probably jealousy, Genma’s hazel eyes kept being drawn back to the photographer. He’d moved away from Tree Boy and was leaning against the wall by himself now. Surprisingly, nobody moved in to exploit his time, though he’d hardly been alone all evening.

“Why don’t you just go talk to him. If you stare any harder-” Anko’s face scrunched up as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say, then she giggled.

Genma’s mouth fell open, and he nearly lost his fangs in shock. Anko was capable of a wide range of sounds, from menacing laughter to the edge of insanity chuckle, but giggles weren’t in her arsenal. “What’s gotten into you?” He was terrified of the answer.

Anko stumbled two steps toward the table and refilled her glass. “I may have spiked the punch, just a little bit.”

“How much is a little bit?” Genma glanced at the massive cauldron sized bowl they’d been filling their glasses from.

Anko giggled again, and Genma felt his stomach drop. “A bottle, or two. Maybe three. No more than four.”

That would explain the behavior happening around the room from the frantic making out and the number of couples stumbling out together. The Madara and Tobirama he’d seen earlier were dancing in way that looked more suited to the bedroom than the dance floor. Genma’s eyes widened as far as they would go when he found his former teammate. Gai and Cat girl were making out against a wall and there was far too much enthusiastic hand movements happening. Genma felt his stomach heave, but maybe that was the effects of the alcohol, he’d certainly drank too much.

Since he’d had enough of being alone with Anko and her poisonous drinks, Genma wandered off after throwing his cup away. The photographer stood alone still, surveying the scene around him with a calm demeanor. He probably hadn’t drank as much as everyone else since he was working. As he walked toward the man, Genma put on his most endearing smile. “Do I know you?” That was terrible as far as pickup lines went, but Genma couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Amusement filled the man’s unfamiliar voice. In a rush of overconfidence that was typical of Genma, he pressed closer to the photographer. Close enough for the faint scent of cologne to make his head spin, and to feel the tight muscles in the man’s forearm. “My name’s Sukea, by the way. Can I help you?”

“Do you want to go home with me?” Somehow, the normally smooth lines that were life to Genma fled, and he said the first thing that popped into his mind.

The man laughed, and his dark eyes appraised Genma’s body. While it was slightly uncomfortable, Genma wasn’t intimidated. He hadn’t been cursed with false modesty; he knew he looked good in his costume. “You’re quite forward with someone you’ve just met. You haven’t even offered me a drink yet.”

“Anko spiked the punch,” Genma confided a couple octaves louder than he meant to.

Sukea laughed. “I know, but I think I might need a drink before I let you take me home.”

Genma frowned. Sukea was pretty enough to be tempting, and it didn’t look like Kakashi was going to show up. Why not, whispered the voice that got him in trouble far more often than it helped him. Genma didn’t want all of his hard work on the costume and makeup to be for nothing, after all.

As they turned back toward the table and the drinks, Genma felt a hand ghost across his back then slide lower. Sukea leaned closer to whisper by his ear. “Do you have a pretty boyfriend I need to be worried about? Or girlfriend?”

“Would you be dissuaded if I said yes?” Genma turned back to the man and clicked his fangs together. They weren’t as good as his senbon, but they were fun in a different way. Heat entered the man’s gaze as he followed the movement with dark eyes.

“No,” Sukea chuckled, and it almost sounded familiar. Before Genma could figure out why, the man snaked an arm around his waist and pulled Genma close, pressing their lips together.

Breathlessly, Genma returned the kiss and leaned into Sukea. The hard muscles of the man’s chest met Genma’s, and he groaned in surprise. Another vague thought formed in the back of his mind, something about the fact that this man must work out harder than most shinobi, but Sukea’s skilled fingers caressing Genma’s back chased the thought away.

“I thought you needed a drink,” Genma breathed as they broke apart, his voice trembling slightly. He had been completely unprepared for the kiss, or for the electricity it sparked through his entire body.

“You kiss better than I thought you would,” Sukea growled softly, desire obvious in his voice as he trapped Genma from moving too far away.

Genma chuckled. “Wait until I get you home and show you what else I can do.”

Tugging his hand, Genma led the man from the room. Kakashi doesn’t know what he missed out on, Genma thought as he and Sukea stumbled into his apartment a few minutes later.

The next morning, Genma woke to an empty bed and a pounding headache. Groaning, he tried to recall the previous night, but it came in disconnected snippets. He’d definitely brought Sukea back to his apartment. He vaguely recalled that his fangs had left the man whimpering for more. The pants had been as difficult to get off as Genma feared, but Sukea solved that problem with a kunai. Genma could still see the tatters of black fabric on the floor by the bed, along with the buttons where the man had been impatient to get Genma’s shirt off.

There had been a moment, when they were wrapped around each other that Sukea whispered Genma’s name and he felt a flicker of something inside his chest. There had been multiple times during the night that Genma thought he was figuring something out, but Sukea was a distraction of the best kind and the alcohol made it too difficult for him to remember. Instead, Genma tugged the blankets back around him and fell back to sleep.

It wouldn’t be for another couple of years that Genma saw Sukea again. He, along with Kakashi’s genin, were in trouble for trying to break into the records room. Standing guard outside the Hokage’s office, he saw the man and felt the way that Sukea’s eyes lingered on him.

The hazy memories fit themselves back together like perfect puzzle pieces. The laughter could have only been Kakashi’s, the desperate caress as he whispered Genma’s name now sounded familiar. How it had taken him this long to put two and two together, Genma had no idea. Dark eyes met his, and “Sukea” smiled. Against all odds, Genma blushed and held his silence.

When Genma went back to his apartment later that evening, there was a envelop shoved under the door. A single picture of Genma nestled inside. He was lying in bed, brown hair falling over his eyes, with the sheets tangled around his legs. Though he was obviously undressed beneath the blankets, the photo only exposed his back and arms. It had been captured with just enough light to soften Genma’s features even more than the makeup had. Holding the photograph loosely, the man couldn’t help but laugh. Apparently Kakashi was as good at photography as he was in bed.