#Test to see how the watercolour brushes work

[sailorfutaba]

[blogmusicz]

Workshop

experiment more with how my video can be more visual , i watched lots of music videos and did some water colour swatches using different colours and shapes. I think it would be interesting to see the contrast of the lightness of the watercolor to the texture of oil pastel. i personally like the swirls , splashes , pointillism and brush strokes. I think these would be interesting to incorporate into the photography and some abstract frames too. It would also be interesting to see these as overlays. These swatches communicate different beats within the music and the senses. I feel with these being more soft they won't make the video too overwhelming but would add more.

moving on i further decided to test pastels and watercolour together

these were interesting tests but I didn’t Decide to include them in the final piece as i didnt think they fit very well and also due to time restraints. i also think that it was too much portraiture /figurative

As i was incorporating oil paints and photographs in my work. I needed to find a way to overlay these patterns as the watercolour may not work as well being on shiny paper and it would not show on oil paints.

so to develop this i traced over the patterns on procreate and then transformed it into a stencil that i could 3d print. I did this with my 3 favourite designs. These all turned out really well but i had to model them thinner than as this one as the paint would end up tunneling in the plastic rather than going through. This in the end worked well in 2mm but unfortunately as the design is so intricate some spirals snapped when lifting them off the bed. I still used these though as it created a different image and pattern. This developed my skills in blender but also testing spray paint. I had colours such as black, purple and blue but i chose black in the first scene as this i think shows the texture and the smoke of the underground tube coming through. it made some square imprints around the outside of the stencil which is a bit frustrating but this was also down to how far away i sprayed the stencil. As i was painting the oil and spray paint on plastic sheet so i could wipe and edit better , it created some fun ghost prints where it had dried a little which

[cboyerma]

Colour Testing

After being able to see Michaël Dudok de Wit work and speak to him I've gotten very inspired to create my film using watercolours for the backgrounds and colouring. I loved how The Monk and the Fish used colours so effectively but limited at the same time.

I believe by using this style it can really elevate my characters more in my film and also keeping my colour workload not as intensive.

To start my process in this I coloured some different drawings I have done using the same brushes to get a feel for the kind of effects I can create with them in a timely manner.

Though I do like the results that came out of doing these tests I don't think any of them are what exactly I'm looking for in my film. I did do one other test with watercolours on a drawing of the main character.

This colouring came out a lot more like what I'm looking for with the slight difference of going lighter on the colour to let to textures of watercolour shine through. So to help me with this I'll be doing some best frames to see what the film could look like in the end.

[mi4011hollysurr]

Here is some test concept art I did to see how l felt about doing the middle part of my animation in the style of his storyboards. I used a watercolour imitation brush for the coloured elements to get a more authentic and less digital look.

I think this will be a stark contrast the smooth highly digital airship and clouds at the beginning as a way to show how timeless his work is and how we are still taken influence from it today. however to tie the contrasting styles together and make the clip look more cohesive I have used the two most distinctive colours from the opening: orange and blue. The pair are also complementary so will hopefully make up for the lack of variety in my chosen colour pallet and help make the middle section stand out as much as the beginning.

[liang-rexy]

I drew something about my alternate universe "Wings of the Ravens".

DO NOT REPOST OR USE. 😠

Last time I mainly talked about lines with the same thickness (@liangrexy 's 6th post), and this time I used more lines with different thickness. I basically drew lines with ink painting, calligraphy and pen drawing methods. You can see the strokes pretty clearly I suppose. Some ends of the lines, which were where I stop moving the pencil, look obvious, because I was imitating how I paint and write on actual paper. Although I don't paint very often and I really need to improve my skills, I know how it works and what I probably want. The brush I mainly used was the felt-tip pen tool, and honestly the lines has something to do with how hard I pressed the pencil against the device. When painting with an actual brush, I can hang the brush and let the tip of the brush stay on the end of a line for a little bit longer so that the water and ink can leave a pattern on the paper (to draw some lines I also need to rotate my brush). And I need to write strokes as well. As for the lineart in this post, I used techniques that are usually seen in landscape paintings. For example I drew dot leaves (pine tree needles here), which are groups of lines, to represent hair and other stuff, and I used tree branches and fabric wrinkles to draw shapes and outlines. Usually I don't colour my line drawings, so it will be nice if the lines are smooth and well-organized. If I want to colour my lineart, I can draw rougher lines theoretically (I don't really enjoy colouring my lineart now! ! ! ). 😂😂😂

I did colour something. Most of the colours I used were low-saturated. The bottom right Danny is in blue while the whole scene is basically in a red tone, so in order to achieve colour harmony, the saturation of the blue colours had to drop. The same goes for the bottom left little Dark Danny. I used the oil painting brush tool (I guess), the felt-tip pen tool, the eraser tool, and some other brushes. I drew the colours with methods of oil painting, watercolour and acrylic painting, and I didn't use that many lines. I left some brushstrokes and drew different kinds of edges because of my personal preference. Last year I often used the magic wand tool to draw this kind of art but now I realize that I can draw more quickly with brushes, although the bottom right Danny with a background still took me over two hours to draw. 😂😂😂 I think the coloured ones kind of look like prints and paper cuttings.

All plants in the picture are fictional. I just wanted to test something. I designed foliage's shapes and decorated them with branches. I have observed Cinnamomum camphora, Ficus microcarpa and some other species, and drawn a few line drawings. So I remembered something about how the branches grow, but sadly I didn't draw things very accurately. I will draw real species later I guess. 😂😂😂 SunnyTP (Lofter and Twitter) said that the dark red bushes were too saturated when we talked about colours, so I changed the bushes' colours.

The bottom left Danny's sketch doesn't have blood, and when I was colouring, I realized that I wanted to draw blood and a crying child again. I released feelings and it was cool. The blood is Dark Danny's, and I did use some horror stuff elements but I drew things in a mild way since the point was not showing something actually scary. I mix the features of several materials like hair/ fur, fire, liquid (water), clouds/ mist, plant textures and some other things together to design Danny's hair. So I can make his hair look convincing and at the same time it's clear that the character is fictional. Drawing the colourful smoke were interesting, too. One side of a wisp of smoke could have some twists while the other side could be drawn smoother.

The middle left Dannys: @suekis-stuff said my AU Dannys can lick each other and I thought that would be fine to draw so I drew the boys being friendly (or maybe not really).

There will be a few coloured chapters in the AU's comic, so I need to find proper ways to colour.

And here's one more piece of art: something about the Far Frozen people.

@liang-rexy 嘅第130篇原创文章。

于2021年9月24日发布。

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Eight // Wanda Maximoff

chapter seven | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter nine

author’s note: Y/C/N = your cousin’s name, also this is later than I wanted today but i’ve been super busy so sorry for that! Also, I’ll be responding to comments from the last one as soon as I’m free. Enjoy 😊

"...okay, so now use the water to dilute the colour."

I did as Wanda said, dipping my brush in the glass of water and diluting the watercolour I was using, but I must have used too much because it made the paint run and then the paper started to get too damp to hold together.

Wanda facepalmed, sighing as I smiled sheepishly.

"My bad...?"

She glared playfully before ripping a page from her sketchbook. "Try again, milaya (darling). And use less water this time."

I squinted in the sun as I glanced at her. "Can't you just accept I'm not very good at painting? Or art in general?"

She shook her head, taking the torn page from my grasp and replacing it with a new one. "No way. You're not getting out of it that easily. It's not hard, I promise!"

I groaned lightheartedly. "You said that about drawing. And about using acrylics. And about using chalk."

"And I'm saying it about this, now c'mon, try again," she encouraged with an amused smile before returning to her own painting.

We were sat in my garden, hanging out and making the most of the lovely day we were having. The Spring breeze was getting warmer as we transitioned into Summer and it was a nice change of pace from the usual bad weather we had. So nice that Wanda wanted to do some painting and also teach me how to. But art was never my strong suit and I'm sure she knew that but still proceeded to try anyway.

Sketching out the tree before us for the third time today, I attempted to provide an outline that I could eventually fill in with green watercolours. Unlike Wanda though, it wasn't fun. My eyes veered over to her and I smiled to myself as I admired the look of concentration on her face – her 'art' look, I dubbed it. It was this very specific expression she got whenever she worked on a painting or drawing, and it always reminded me of that first time I saw it, after we met in the stationary store and when she took me back to her room. Absolutely wonderful.

"I don't hear a pencil moving," she said, not looking up but beginning to smile.

"That's because I'm looking for... what did you call it?" I racked my brain, thinking back to the day in the store when she talked about inspiration. "Vdokhoventi?"

A sharp exhale escaped her lips as she finally lifted her gaze to meet mine. Attempting not to laugh, she tilted her head adorably. "Vdokhnoveniye."

I quirked a brow. "Is that not what I said?"

She giggled, shaking her head. "Definitely not."

I grinned, shrugging. "Well, that's what I meant."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not it, so eyes on your page."

"Oh, how dearly mistaken you are, love," I said quietly, leaning close and giving her a knowing smile.

She looked up, expression softening with a smile. Her eyes were heavenly, pupils dilated as she squinted in the sun, and they flickered to my lips before she settled on nudging me in the shoulder slightly. I snickered, leaning my head on her shoulder since everybody thought we were as close as best friends, so it wouldn't look suspicious. She sighed contently, letting me watch as she moved her paintbrush, painting a flower that was peeking through the grass we were sat on.

I could have stayed there forever, in that moment, sitting with Wanda and watching her paint under the sun. But of course, all good things come to an end when you don't want them to.

"Y/N, dear," I heard my father call, and when I looked up, I saw him approaching Wanda and I from the direction of our house.

Straightening up, I watched as he attempted to sit on the grass, but his legs were too long and he struggled to cross them. With a hearty chuckle, he stretched them out, slightly bent, and leaned on his hands.

"I'm getting too old for this, ladies," he said humorously, making Wanda and I smile.

"What d'you need, dad?" I asked, raising my brows.

"I just wanted to check in and see if you were ready for tonight," he said casually, making me furrow my brows. He seemed to notice my confusion, prompting, "Tonight? Your cousin's birthday party?"

"My cousin's what-now?"

He sighed, massaging the point between his brows. "Y/C/N? They organised this months ago. We're all expected to be there." His glanced to Wanda. "You, too, dear."

Wanda hummed, pulling her gaze from her painting and looking to my dad. "Yes, I'm aware. Got my dress ready and everything."

My eyes snapped to Wanda's with surprise. "You knew about this?!"

"You should be more like her," my dad muttered, as Wanda smiled with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

I looked back to my father. "I was planning on helping Y/B/N with his manuscript tonight."

My dad waved his hand. "I've already talked to him. He's agreed to work on it before the party starts so you're both on time."

I groaned, already tired at the sound of yet another party. Did it ever end?

"Don't be late," he ordered, though his voice was anything but stern. Cue another groan. He smiled before looking to Wanda's painting. "Wow, that's great, dear. Apparently you've got Y/N here attempting to do the same?"

Wanda chuckled as she handed him my several failed attempts. "Key word being 'attempting'."

He accepted the pages and stifled a smile of amusement. "Wow... maybe you should stick to writing, Y/N."

I ripped the pages from his grasp. "Cheers, dad, really."

He laughed before leaning forward and kissing my forehead. "It's all in good faith, dear. Now remember. Don't be late tonight, okay?"

I sighed, which he took as my response, before pushing himself off the grass with a grumble. Dusting his trousers, he nodded to Wanda and I before leaving us be.

"You could've told me I had yet another party to attend tonight," I told Wanda with narrowed eyes.

She shrugged, smiling helplessly. "I thought you knew."

I laid back on the grass with a dramatic sigh. "I just don't understand why our life revolves around extravagant parties, balls and dinners."

"That's just how it is, moya lyubov' (my love)," she said with a warm smile.

I looked up at the sky, raising my hand to shield the sun from my eyes, though my heart fluttered at one of the many nicknames she called me in Russian. "I'd rather live in the middle of nowhere. Where nobody expects anything of me and there's no stupid parties to attend."

She rested a hand on my leg before laying beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder. I relaxed my head on hers, appreciating how well we fit together.

"Same here," she agreed, making me gasp playfully.

"What? Don't you love the glitz and glamour?"

She laughed quietly. "I do, but I like the peace and quiet more."

I breathed out, fingertips brushing hers. "Maybe I can be a little late tonight... accidentally run over time so I don't have to stay as long."

Her fingers tugged on mine between us as a warning. "No. I'll be left alone and I'll be bored. And when I'm bored, I drink."

It was my turn to laugh. "You won't be alone, Wanda. You'll have Pietro."

She shifted so she was no longer leaning on my shoulder but instead tilting her head to look my way. "I want you."

I turned my head and gave her a small, promising smile. "I'll try to be on time."

She quirked a brow. "Try? You will."

My eyes flittered away, ready to argue otherwise, but she sat up and grabbed her paintbrush. I sat up, too, ready to tell her I would try, but I flinched when she flicked water towards me from the tip of it.

"Are you serious?" I asked, wiping the water from my eyelids with tongue-in-cheek.

She chuckled and I grabbed my paintbrush and did the same, watching her squirm when it flicked on her face.

Suppressed smile on her face, she wiped away the water and glared with dazzling eyes. "You shouldn't start what you can't finish, milaya (darling)."

Smiling from ear to ear, I quirked a brow devilishly. "Oh?"

"You're so lucky we're in front of people," she said lowly, leaning close enough to be platonic, but her hand slipped under my dress and creeped up my leg, making me involuntarily shiver. "Or you would be in serious trouble."

I stopped her hand from going any higher, the rings on her fingers cold enough for me to not melt under her touch. "I highly doubt that, love."

She held my gaze, intoxicating and mesmerising all at once. A sly smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Don't test me then. You heard your father. Don't be late."

I exhaled, licking my lips. "Fine. I won't be."

—

Later that afternoon, I found myself sat in my brother's study as the two of us worked on his latest manuscript together. It was a love story, his (my) specialty, and I was helping him to sort out his sentence structure when he decided to question me.

"Will you entertain me for a moment?" he asked randomly, making me look up from the pages.

"I'll probably regret it, but go on," I said jokingly, before looking back down and adding some notes to the paper.

His chair creaked as he leaned back, eyes watching me thoughtfully. "Are you in a secret relationship?"

I almost choked on my spit as he asked this, heart dropping to my stomach with panic. He couldn't know about Wanda, right? We'd been so careful.

Thankfully, I played it off well as I merely glanced his way before distracting myself with note-taking.

"Why would you think that, Y/B/N?" I asked like he was insane.

He shrugged in my peripheral. "I don't know... I've been wondering for a while. You've just loosened up so much more. And you're not as uptight as you usually are."

"Cheers," I said sarcastically.

He leaned forward, head resting in his palm. "This all happened right about the time I met Wanda..."

I swallowed hard, quirking a brow at him to play down my panic.

"I saw you with Pietro the other week," he continued, and I could finally breathe when I realised what he was insinuating. "I'm happy if you're happy, Y/N, but I'm not a fan of you sleeping with my publisher."

At that thought, I shuddered and proceeded to shove Y/B/N on the arm. "Don't say that. And I would never."

Just your fiancé, I thought guiltily.

"Good," he said with relief, straightening up. "Because you're not supposed to do that until you get married."

I rolled my eyes dismissively in response, but wondered if that still applied in a world where one was not allowed to marry the person they loved.

Y/B/N gave me a reassuring glance. "Look, I'm okay with it, I guess. But I'd appreciate the heads up so I can give him a stern talking to."

Realising there was a hint of mirth in his voice, I looked up and gave him a warning look. "Don't you dare."

He laughed, patting me on the back, to which I shrugged off with annoyance.

"It's the Maximoff charm," he commented knowingly. "The twins have that effect on people, don't they? Wanda sure has it on me."

A short silence fell after he said that and I chewed on my lip curiously, unable to stop myself from speaking until it was too late.

"Is her love reciprocated?"

He looked down to me from his daydream, no doubt of Wanda. "Pardon?"

Knowing there was no backing down from the conversation now, I avoided his eyes. "The engagement between you both was arranged... you're clearly in love with her, but is it returned?"

His lips twitched into a frown. "I'd hope so."

I hummed, diverting my attention away from him and to the pen in my hand.

"Why? Did she say something?" he asked, voice laden with worry.

"Of course not," I reassured him.

"But you'd tell me if she did?" he asked eagerly.

I looked his way and saw him peering down at me, hanging onto my response. I nodded lamely, which seemed to put him at ease as he sank into his chair with relief.

We spent the next few hours working on the manuscript without a hitch, but I noticed the time and realised the party was already in full swing. Wanda's words came to mind and I hoped she wouldn't be too annoyed at my lateness.

"We're wrapping it up now, don't worry," Y/B/N said, noticing me check the clock. "Thanks for the help. I'm gonna get this to my editor tomorrow. Your amendments should help make the process go a lot smoothly."

I hummed in response, feeling a heaviness settle on my shoulders as he mentioned his editor. It was always the same routine – I helped him with his manuscript, he got it edited, got his book published and got all the credit. And I was stuck in the same position, wishing I could do the same.

"What is it?" he asked with a sigh, sensing my mood.

Playing with the corner of the manuscript, I met his gaze. "I help you with your writing, but I never get anything from it."

"You get to help me," he pointed out, not seeing the issue. "Isn't that enough?"

Pietro's offer came to mind as I said, "What if I wrote my own book? And got published with my name on the cover?"

He squinted as he studied me, trying to find the humour in my words. Letting out a laugh, he shook his head.

"Y/N, that's absurd."

I raised my eyebrows hopefully. "I mean, is it? Would that be so bad?"

He pressed his lips together and breathed out through his nose. Resting a hand on my shoulder, he gave me a condescending look.

"I'm saying this because I care," he said, making me feel like crap. "But yes."

As if I didn't already know the answer, I asked, "Why?"

He motioned with his hand like it was obvious. "Because. People would look at you differently. You'd be undesirable. You know men don't like smart women. I'm just looking out for you as your brother."

I looked away, the bitterness at his words stinging more than usual. "Well, I like smart women."

Thinking I was joking, he chuckled. "Don't go saying things like that. One might misinterpret."

My teeth pressed into my lower lip hard, trying to contain my frustration.

"You can do this every now and then," he said, referring to the manuscript, "but any more isn't possible. Besides, two authors in one family? That's insane."

I forced a smile, but I wondered if his last comment was the real reason he wouldn't let me at least try to get published.

"Anyway, never mind that," he said indifferently. "We should probably head out. Dad is not going to be pleased. Especially since I promised we wouldn't be late."

I nodded, sliding my chair out and wanting to be anywhere but here right now. "Yeah, come on."

He gave me a sneaky smile. "Can't wait to see Pietro?"

I slapped him on the arm before standing up, ignoring his laughter. Nothing to make an already-depressing night worse than going to a party you didn't care for.

—

Wanda Maximoff was a very difficult drunk to be around, I'd learnt that the hard way.

As soon as Y/B/N and I rolled up to my cousin's house, a third of the guests were drunk and the rest were tipsy. A typical Y/L/N get-together. Y/B/N was instantly dragged away by some family whilst I was quick to make myself scarce, attempting to find Wanda. But the place was bustling with people and there were way too many rooms to check.

I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.

I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.

"If you're expecting a brand new fountain pen, you won't find it in there," I teased, making him jump.

He sighed when he looked my way, realising it was me. "I know that. But there's nothing better here to do, so I may as well know what freebies we'll be getting by the end of it."

I smirked. "Anything good?"

He shrugged, seeming disappointed. "Just some chocolate and perfume samples."

Holding back a smile, I said, "How tragic."

"If you're looking for my sister, she's over there," he said, nodding behind me. "You'll love this one."

"What do you mean?" I asked, brows knitted with confusion, before turning around and following his gaze.

Wanda was indeed stood on the other side of the dining room and I could just about make her out between idle guests. She was chatting to some woman, hands moving erratically and with expression, a grin on her lips.

"What is she doing?" I asked unsurely, tearing my eyes from her and looking to Pietro.

He was withholding laughter as he answered, "Sometimes, dear Y/N, my beloved twin sister gets drunk when she's–"

"Bored," I finished, remembering what she told me this morning. My face dropped as I mumbled, "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh indeed," Pietro said, grinning at his sister's dismay. "Drunk Wanda is a very truthful Wanda. So, any secrets of hers will most definitely be revealed tonight."

Pietro was too caught up in his own amusement to notice my eyes widening.

"One of our servants made me a platter a few years ago," Pietro explained, oblivious to my panic. "It was a delicious cheese platter, the cheese having been imported from France. Then, Wanda proceeded to eat it without telling me. When I asked if she did, she lied. And I only discovered she lied because she got drunk a few weeks later and bragged about how good the cheese was."

Continuing to ramble, though this time in Russian, Pietro complained about said incident, though I wasn't listening as I watched Wanda talk to the woman enthusiastically. I could only imagine what secrets she was sharing.

"Pietro!" I cut him off, earning his attention. "Shouldn't you do something? To stop Wanda?"

The cheese platter story long forgotten, his grin reappeared on his lips. "Nah, it's funny watching her make a fool of herself."

I gave him a look of disbelief before looking back to Wanda, who was laughing at something by herself. The woman she was speaking to seemed partially confused, but smiled to be polite. I gulped, before shaking my head.

"I'm not that mean," I said to Pietro before making a move to stop her.

Pietro booed me playfully, but I ignored him and approached the drunk brunette, managing to catch her conversation.

"–and they're usually such catty bitch–"

"Wanda!" I immediately cut her off, bumping into her side slightly to get her attention. "There you are!"

Green eyes widened with excitement as they met mine. "Y/N! You're here!"

Ignoring her, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her close before looking to the guest she was talking with.

"My apologies for her behaviour," I said with an awkward smile, hoping Wanda hadn't revealed anything suspicious.

"No need to apologise, dear," the woman said with an amused smile. "Wanda here was telling me all about how lovely of a sister-in-law you are. Or will be."

Wanda grinned, looking to me and leaning in so close that her nose brushed my cheek. "Yeah, she is," she continued to the woman, though her eyes were on mine. "She's sweet, not like other people make out their sister-in-laws to be."

My face was warm as I cleared my throat and smiled once more to the woman. "If you'll excuse Wanda and I."

The woman barely got out a nod before I dragged Wanda away, trying to keep her lips away from my neck (she was also an extremely clingy drunk). Tugging her into the bathroom down the hall, I closed the door behind us and released a breath of relief, grateful for the escape from guests.

"You look very sexy when you're worried," Wanda complimented, stepping forward and smiling dazedly.

"Wanda–"

She placed her hand on my jaw, moving closer so that her lips were grazing mine as she mumbled, "You came late, milaya (darling). But I still love you."

I'd like to say that I had the willpower to push her away and scold her for acting so obvious about us before, but my lips went numb as she captured them between hers. I could taste the alcohol on her lips as she moved them against mine, making me dizzy and forgetting what I was going to say. Her thumb caressed my jaw and I relaxed under her touch, hands resting on her chest. When she tried to part my lips with her tongue, I seemed to come to my senses.

"Wanda, you're drunk," I muttered, pushing her back gently.

She chased down my mouth again, sucking on my lip and tilting my head back so she could have better access. I tried not to let her win as I kissed her briefly before pulling away. Clouded hazel eyes met mine with a matching smirk.

"You're such a tease," she whispered, her accent thicker than usual and making my stomach flip uncontrollably. Her thumb traced my lips as she continued, "You shouldn't do that when I already know how you taste, moya lyubov' (my love)."

The way she was staring at me made me flustered in place, and she seemed to notice her effect on me as she winked my way.

Shaking my head and trying not to let her win, I said, "Look, Wanda. I'm sorry for being late. But did you really have to get drunk?"

She shrugged, leaning her weight on my shoulder with her hand. "If you hadn't kept me waiting, then I wouldn't have."

I sighed, looking to her apologetically. "I didn't realise the time."

A permanent troublesome smile was fixed on her lips as she watched me.

"Your brother told me how you can be when you get drunk," I said with mild concern, hoping she'd register my seriousness. "You need to be careful, Wanda. We can't have people finding out about us."

"It seems to me," she began agonisingly slowly, lacing her arms around my shoulders, "that you'll have to watch me all night to make sure I don't do anything out of line."

Determined not to play into her teasing, I maintained her gaze with a stern stare. "It seems I'll have to."

She bit her lip, eyes flickering between mine, before leaning further into my ear. In a whispered voice, she said, "That means you can't leave my side, printsessa (princess)."

I clenched my jaw, ready to agree, but a gasp escaped my lips as hers sucked on my earlobe, teeth nibbling on the sensitive skin. Stupid Wanda and her stupid flirting and stupid attractiveness.

"Wanda!" I scolded, though my cheeks were flushed as I pushed her away gently.

She laughed adorably, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "What?"

"You have to behave," I told her, swallowing hard and trying not to let her teasing smile get to me. "You can't do this out there. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed in a way that wasn't reassuring in the slightest.

I rolled my eyes before grabbing her hand and leading her back outside the bathroom, returning to the party. I wasn't planning on leaving her side for the rest of the evening, even if Y/B/N wanted to be with her. The last thing I wanted was for her cute drunken self to reveal something she couldn't take back.

To my relief, she kind of behaved after that. There were times when she would get a little too touchy to be platonic, but a quick stare set her straight. Y/B/N wasn't around much, as when he did join us, he was immediately pulled away by some family friends who wanted to discuss his books. For once, I was glad he was an author, afraid of what would happen if Wanda got too comfortable in his presence.

At one point though, he was able to join Wanda, Pietro and I at a standing table, relief flooding his expression when nobody called after him. His arm wrapped around Wanda's waist and he kissed the top of her head, making me look the other way with distaste. She scrunched her nose up at the action before distracting herself with a drink. I gave her a knowing look, having told her earlier to stop with the alcohol. She pretended not to see me.

"Sorry I've not been able to spend time with you tonight," he said to Wanda, oblivious to her tipsy state.

"It's almost like it's your birthday and not your cousin's," Pietro joked, smiling at him.

My brother chuckled. "I guess. They just all wanna talk about my manuscript."

"Ah, yes, the reason you were late, right?" Wanda asked, eyes falling to mine.

"I'm sorry," my brother apologised, assuming it was him she was speaking to.

"You were helping him, too, right?" Pietro asked, looking to me curiously. "Maybe I'll finally get a glance at your work."

I narrowed my eyes at him, having figured he'd put the subject to rest after last time. He merely grinned in response, finding joy in messing with me, just like his sister. Before I could say anything, my brother beat me to it.

"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"

"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"

So he was jealous. Wow.

"You don't need to hide your relationship, y'know," he continued when I didn't respond, looking to Pietro.

The silver-haired publisher choked on his drink as he looked to my brother, clearly very amused.

"I know you're together," Y/B/N said with agitation. "Everybody does. And don't get me wrong, Pietro, I respect you as a publisher."

I groaned quietly, closing my eyes with embarrassment. When I opened them, Pietro was watching my brother with an entertained smile, meanwhile, Wanda was looking between them with a twitching frown.

"But if you're going to date my sister, you should do it the right way," my brother continued stupidly. "It's not appropriate to have whatever this is." He motioned between us with his hands. "It's wrong."

I jumped when Wanda's hand slipped to my arse, squeezing it gently. Thankfully, our backs were to a wall so nobody would have noticed behind us, but I instantly glared at her and removed her hand. She gave me a cunning smile, not bothered by the consequences.

"...and if you're sleeping together like I suspect," Y/B/N was saying, making me flush with humiliation, "know that our friendship is at breaking point. I can't have that blatant disrespect in my life."

Wanda continued to attempt to grab my arse, making me slap her hand away several times, all whilst trying to manage whatever conversation was happening right now.

"I can't believe you just said that," I finally spoke up, managing to keep Wanda at bay long enough. "You're such an idiot, Y/B/N! I told you I wasn't with Pietro!"

Pietro tried not to laugh as he met my brother's intimidating stare. "I value our friendship, too, Y/B/N. Which is why I can promise you I have no... relations... with your sister. I don't like her like that, I can assure you."

Wanda snorted with amusement, before hiding behind a glass of wine when everyone looked her way.

Y/B/N seemed embarrassed as he cleared his throat. "Oh."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, oh!"

"I guess I should apologise," he said awkwardly, looking to Pietro. "I–"

"No apology necessary," Pietro cut him off, raising a hand. "I am thankful for the entertainment however."

"I'm gonna go literally anywhere else," I dismissed myself, unable to take the uncomfortable situation any longer.

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked away. To my surprise, Wanda trailed after, falling into step with me.

I glanced at her unhappily, quirking a brow. "Can I help you?"

"Oh, don't be mad at me because your brother's an idiot," she said with a wag of her hand.

I gave her a suggestive look. "I told you to behave."

She pressed her lips together in a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry... Y/B/N was talking about you and Pietro and I– well, I don't like sharing, remember?"

The improper glint in her eye as she stopped before me, watching with amusement, made me feel warm all of a sudden. That day when she first told me that and we proceeded to make love flashed to mind, and she seemed to know as she had a mischievous look on her face.

Clearing my throat, I pointed a finger her way. "Behave."

I should have known by the devilish look in her eyes that she wouldn't.

[a-lilacsong]

A certain person asked me how I paint with watercolors so I guess I'm going to tell you all! Now I'm not professionally trained, I just learned what I know from experimenting, asking questions, and looking up tutorials. So this may not be what the experts do, but it's what works for me.

How I paint:

Materials: I have a watercolor palette, a little jar full of water, my paint brushes, some paper that is thick enough for watercolors, pencil, and some paper towel to help mop up excess water. I always put down some kind of rag cloth or newspapers down on the table first so I don't get any paint on the table. Watercolors don't stain as much as other kinds of paint but it's best to you be careful.

I always use a watercolor palette to make my paintings. This is a very different system from oil paint or acrylic paints or even liquid watercolors or watercolor pencils, so you need to keep that in mind with the rest of the things I tell you

Step 1 (Start): I decide what I'm going to paint and make a little pencil sketch of it on the paper, It doesn't need to be detailed it just needs to give me a rough idea on how big it will be and where various shapes will go. (I sketch it very light so that you don't see the pencil lines on the finished painting but you can make it dark if you still want to see the lines).

Step 2 (Layers 🧅): I decide which colours would be best to be put on the bottom layer and which colours should be put on the top layer and then begin painting accordingly. For example I painted Mirabel's skin before I painted her hair, so I could have bits of her hair going down on top of her skin. I mix the colours together on a scrap piece of paper first just to test how they look.

Step 3 (How to apply paint): I dip my paint brush in water and then swirl it around in the needed colour until I have my desired amount, then I begin to paint in the shape that I want. Whenever my brush needs more colour I put a very small amount of water on it and then rub it gently against the paint palette then brush it again on the paper. For dark colours I swirl it around longer in the paint to get more paint on it and then lay it on thick. For lighter colours I put more water on the brush and less paint on it and then use the water to spread the paint even further across the paper. Important tip: Never press your brush too hard against the paint palette or the paper when you're painting, otherwise the bristles could be bent out of shape or fall out. Use the same amount of pressure you'd use if you were petting a kitten with the paintbrush. (You shouldn't actually do that, it's just a metaphor.)

Important tip: If you ever have too much water on your paintbrush, use a paper towel to mop some of it up. You can also use a paper towel to help get unwanted paint off your brushes.

Step 4 (Waiting): After filling in one shape with a specific colour, I move on to the next colour. If I don't want the colours to mix together I wait a minute or two for the first part to dry before I continue on to the next part. But if I do want a gradient then I start adding the new colour and brush them together a bit with water.

Step 5 (Small details): Watercolours mix together really well but that means to get good looking light colours you have to apply them directly to the paper, where there isn't any paint, otherwise if they are mixed with a dark-colour they could become muddy looking. For things like Mirabelle's glasses I painted the skin around them first, leaving a white blank space and then once the paint had dried I very carefully added the light green, making sure not to get the brown paint wet again. (I also use this process for the butterfly on the accordion and the earring.)

Step 6 (Optional Final touches): Sometimes I used paint for the pupils of eyes but they never seem as detailed as I want. So instead what I do is I leave the eyes as blank white circles, and then once I'm finished painting everything else, and everything is completely dry, I use a small pen or marker to draw the black outline around the eyes as well as pupils and pencil crayons to colour the iris. I also use pencil crayons for the eyebrows, lips and dress butterflies.

Repeating these steps for a very long time eventually leads to a finished painting. If you have any questions let me know.

[kintatsujo]

ADVICE FOR ADVICE. If you have any cake/tube watercolours. Always make sure that you make swatch guides and tests before using them for the first time. Gradient from least to most water, medium water amount cross colour grid to see how they layer when dry, and some attempts at gradienting. Have two water glasses, one for brush clean up another for water to add to the colours. I dint have two water glasses, but i do have an aquabrush that has its own water tank. Most tube watercolours you can let dry on your pallete and they will re-wet easily. But do read the labels to make sure the watercolours arent secret liars. I have tube colours but never use them because im a cake colours supermacist. You can generally leave water colours on your paletes to reuse them, if it's plastic it may stain a smidge, if its ceramic it will stay unstained. Staining is only a problem if you're mixing the colours on your pallete. But always go, brush into water, then colour, then pallete, to make sure what sort of consistency you have, then on the paper. If you mix water colours on the pallete, its big brain to have a scrap paper to test what colour you just mixed. Natural brushes are way better at absorbing water than synthetic. If you accidentally put too much water on the paper you can just, pick it up by gently touch it with a dry natural brush. Another water thing. Get masking tape, put it all around your paper before adding water. Then add water. Should dry mostly straight depending on paper. In sketchbooks its less of a problem because the sketchbooks have hard surfaces and so they, kinda flatten the papers over time if you pile them up. Whitenights has good quality watercolours at a cheaper price than some other good quality watercolour suppliers. Now, how to use them on paper? No idea. I usually use them to add quick light colour to my sketches. (Somewhat consistent use of water and colour, just colour in the shapes like i would with pencil but way faster. Add layers as needed depending on how strong/multicoloured i desire the figure/surroundings to be) I also know how to draw landscapes with lots of water. (Do the paper prep with masking tape, just cover the paper with a layer of just water, then with a higher consistency of colour on a brush colour in nature shapes. When drier you can add in details that require sharp non fuzzy lines.) You can put water colours on ink, or do ink over water colours. But before puting it on ink, make sure it dries, and that you before hand do a test to see if water makes it smudge or not. Most water colours i used so far, if you use them over a pencil sketch, its a smidge hard to, erase the sketch after wards.

You are the best anon

Anyway thank you so much for all the advice!! The two water cups especially is an excellent idea (I have a couple of brushes with water containers too but I use a regular brush for the wash backgrounds)

I've been doing most of my watercolor work in multimedia sketchbooks but I also appreciate the masking tape advice bc I'm sure once I get good enough at it I'll want to move onto things I can gift to people <3

[danikatze]

hey! my mokuhanga teacher recommended high pigment watercolors if you want brighter colors off the top of my head she suggested winsor newton watercolors, or if you didn't mind the chalkiness, gouache paints. But I know i purchased a japanese brand of watercolors that I can take a look at for you once I get home if you want the suggestion. Another suggestion was to take a glazed white tile to spread the pigment on, and it would show how the thin layer of nori and paint would look on the print as a color matching practice before brushing the block, but that also depends on what washi you are using

Yeah, I have a (the?) Japanese brand of watercolours and it's honestly really good, but the problem is that I'm just bad at mixing colours hahah.

The tile tip is a good one though. My teachers showed how to use a strip of the paper I'm printing on, dab on some of the colour and fold the paper on the spot with the ink, and that's how you see what it will look like when you print it. I thought I didn't do it right for some reason, but yeah looking back those tests showed me exactly what the colours ended up looking like.

Anyway, a lot of the (slight) disappointment is it not looking exactly what I imagined haha, and being tired from working and learning so much in the past 3 weeks. I showed my teacher and explained what bothered me about it, and did gave me advice for the future to have more control over the colours. He also said he likes the print a lot and to leave it for now.

I might try again in a few days, but right now I want to step away from it for a bit and try some different carving techniques that they've taught!

[riisinaakka-draws]

part 2/6

2nd part of my old Black Sails scraps and doodles from 2016–2021. Not in any particular order.

This time the drawings are short comics that were abandoned for a reason or another, mostly because I lost the interest or felt like there was too much to redraw compared to the satisfaction of finishing something else more interesting. There’s also some talk about rigid mindset and how overthinking can lead to stagnation.

Contains early silverflint moments, specks of dust, rackham's glasses are found, jealous-Billy spying, desk-Flint gets caught, "squint-squint", a quiet moment and its bird dilemma etc.

And please do not steal and repost elsewhere. But if you do get inspired, feel free to make your own interpretations!

Long-ish post under the cut!

“What are you thinking about?”

“Specks of dust.”

“Liar.”

The idea was to show how much they and their relationship had changed. This was around 2016 when the season 3 began and I was still re-learning to draw with a tablet. Another art from the same time period (and idea) is this art: The Dynamic Duet. 

And for some reason I was really stuck up thinking that I’d have to first do the sketch, then the clean line art, then planes underneath, then shadows etc. and I have always struggled with that kind of approach! Mainly because I hate doing clean line work, lol. And I was a fool for trying to start with a white canvas! It’s so much harder to find values and plan things, or at least in my opinion..

“Rackham’s glasses are found”

To celebrate their new pirate alliance, they share the four lenses of Rackham’s sunglasses as they were also found at the time (because I wanted it to resurface and they could be made into jewellery you know...). This was right after the episode where Anne fights and hurts her hands (here wearing protecting mittens from Max even though she’s not trusted at the moment). Uh, this doesn’t spark joy interest me much and it’s quite stiff and would recuire a lot of redrawing faces, so - discarded!  

I somewhat like the idea still (them having something to share, although it’s on Jack’s detriment). I tried to find a stylished comical easier doodlier? way to draw them and draw clean lines etc, but it just wasn’t for me. Also here too, the background is blank and too bright. Later I started to think things as scenes and draw everything at the same time instead of adding the bg later or trying to show everything (and everyone) at the same time.

Here’s also Billy in the same story:

He’s spying on them and since it’s so bright he’s wearing his diy “sunglasses” and being envious to the others. *cough* uhhh...Idk? Also people were shipping Ben Gunn (and cheese) with Billy, so that bled into this too... Charles’ spirit is riding the “big white bird” that was mentioned in Teach’ story and in this case it’s a pelican.

As you can see, I also wasn’t using the brushes that I use nowadays. A hard (or soft) round brushes with no change in opacity just aren’t for me. For example, in traditional art, I struggle with markers and copics, but really enjoy charcoals and watercolours. I prefer ragged edges, layering and thus blending things into each other (and leaving the viewer to fill in the gaps) instead of having stark or definite things. I also struggle with vector drawings, although I have decided to finally start learning to use them...somedayyyy.

Also, I wasn’t paying attention to anatomy, like, at all LMAO. I was just so happy to be able to put something on the canvas.

This is one of my first ink drawings, but I cannot find the original anymore. Again, I like the idea, but not how things look art-wise. And I was so adamant, that I have to get everything right in the traditional drawing and not fix anything later on on photoshop because then it would be cheating. And thus, I was never able to move on or finish this properly the way I liked it (idiot).

BUT! It was a good practise to just draw and test things on paper and gain confidense on drawing things in overall (as I was still getting back into art). To get over the fear of blank paper you know, and try to find my style whatever it would start to form into.

Oh, yeah, Desk Flint.

Desk Flint was a thing for a while (still is, lol). Another drawing from that time is this Slingshot Pirate (2016). And Desk Flint keeps repeating in many later works too. The point is mainly “Flint sitting behind his desk and people interrupt him and I don’t have to draw him fully”

Well, anyway... moving on.

Here’s a plan that has been stuck for years. It’s name is “Squint-squint.” Left is the sketch (with another sketch underneath because the expressions were clearer in the old one). On the right is the continued piece with colour scheme but I cropped the eyes panel and faces out (it was so ugly for some reason) but if I ever continue/finish this, it will be redrawn there in the middle.)

Left. “On that moment their eyes were literally open(ed).”

Right. “After squinting on the shore for days, they had actually forgotten how pretty the other idiot’s eyes were.”

I still like it, quite a lot, but my perfectionist ass only sees too much “boring” things to draw and get right, so it hasn’t been a priority for a long time and other works have kept me occupied and more interested in them.

--------------------

“Quiet Moment.” 2018 (a wordless comic happening after the events of Charles Town)

I’m going to explain after these pictures, but see how big the difference is when you start to look at references and plan things together (the space, “camera” movement, background etc). I also started to colour with coarser brushes:

I drew this around early 2018. A lot of improvement! Still quite a lot of negative space (empty white backgrounds), but it fits this work. A few things tell where we are (the ship’s cabin and the balcony). Changing distances and how things are cropped/framed make things more moving and focused (and less to draw, lol). Colours and brush strokes are softer, more layered and so on.

But guess why it’s still a wip!

I couldn’t decide what bird is flying over there.

Yeap! At first it was an albatross (doesn’t go to Bahamas?). Then a seagull (but which seagull? there’s so many subspecies! Is the ship at sea or at the harbour? what birds are there on the open water/ close to the shore?? oh noo...) So, yeah, wayyyy too much over-thinking.

At some point I ended up with white-tailed-tropic-bird which was a plus! because it sounds like the bosun’s whistle, but at that point I was so tangled and frustrated and still had so much to finish with this that I left it be. Also Flint’s face looks different in every frame so I would’ve had to change some parts, lol. And then I forgot it for a couple of years! And then I had learned to draw a bit differently and again saw too much things to do, so it’s quite hard to take on this again, especially when there are so many other interesting wips waiting...

But I still really like the feeling of it! And the colour scheme. So I might just limit the things I’m allowed to fix and then post it as it own someday. I mean, it’s 90% finished, but the last reach just feels like miles.

And that’s what usually happens with my wips. They reach a certain point and it suddenly becomes really hard to finish or get back into.

But every time I learn things and then use the information in another work! :D

Final note for this post (altough this has been said hundreds of times): use references and look how things go and try to see the structure and form beneath things. And think where it is happening and how the light and surroundings affects the characters and/or spaces. And maybe think what you’re trying to convey with the art, what idea? what emotions? what purpose? or like, what are you trying to learn with the piece? and so on...

Thanks for checking this out, I hope you had fun <3

[dravenxivuk]

I posted 3,744 times in 2021

658 posts created (18%)

3086 posts reblogged (82%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 4.7 posts.

I added 2,206 tags in 2021

#adam jensen - 337 posts

#q - 336 posts

#deus ex - 305 posts

#s4witcher - 221 posts

#sims 4 gameplay - 219 posts

#witcher 3 - 180 posts

#modded game - 172 posts

#eskel - 151 posts

#witcher eskel - 147 posts

#witcher oc - 138 posts

Longest Tag: 94 characters

#thank you brain for waking me up 3 hours after i went to sleep last night to remind me of this

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

153 notes • Posted 2021-04-15 13:01:17 GMT

#4

Watercolour Letho

157 notes • Posted 2021-04-13 18:53:37 GMT

#3

I declare this Letho finished!

I started this back in June, maybe, whenever it was that I got CSP and started playing with the brushes to find which ones I like.  This is the gouache brush and I love how it blends colours together, it’s so soft and smooshy and tactile to use. However I’m convinced I’m using it in the most inefficient way possible! 

I see looking up tutorials on these brushes and how they work in my future. Maybe. One day. If I remember...

176 notes • Posted 2021-10-14 22:38:48 GMT

#2

197 notes • Posted 2021-09-27 17:32:59 GMT

#1

You are 30.8% evil, 18.3% chaotic, making you true neutral.

True Neutral people believe in the ultimate balance of forces, and they refuse to see actions as either good or evil. True Neutral individuals do their best to avoid siding too strongly with any one force, whether that force is good or evil, lawful or chaotic. For this reason, True Neutral personalities sometimes find themselves drawn into rather peculiar alliances, friendships, and life paths. To a great extent, they side with the underdog, sometimes even changing sides as the previous loser becomes the winner. Such people often see good, evil, chaos, and laws as simply prejudices that lead to dangerous extremes. Like the Taoist masters of ancient China, they tend to believe that the universe functions best when the light and the dark, the yin and the yang, are in balance.

Moral alignment test here

628 notes • Posted 2021-09-02 10:29:04 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[langdxn]

I'm soooo curious how others perceive Cody, like his personality and stuff! Do you think you could write something where the reader is a fellow actress on ahs, and the moment Cody and her meet, the tension is heavy and sparks are flying, and after a while of getting close and hanging out Cody confesses his feelings? You can write it as a fic or as headcannons and add smut it's all up to you! I'm just so curious now hkgjfkfjjd 💕💖❤️

asdfghjkl this has ruined me 💕💕 I’ve never tried headcanons before so this probably sucks but here goes! I’m so sorry this is so long 😭😭😭

The first read-through for a season is terrifying enough, nobody knows who’s returning, who’s not returning, who the newbies are, what to expect.

You’re new this season so you turn up early just to introduce yourself before all the chaos ensues.

You’re the first one in the room and once you’re settled at your named seat, your handbag scooted neatly under your desk, the door creaks open and a heavily-ringed hand curls around it. Cody peeks round the corner and he’s already beaming from ear to ear before he’s seen who’s in the room.

Your heart doesn’t know whether to soar or sink like a stone because Cody freaking Fern just walked in smiling like a soft boi.

He’s stood in the doorway squealing with glee, he’s back for another season and he wasn’t dreaming it! He throws a “oh my god this is actually happening” in your direction.

He can’t decide whether to run over and greet you or sit down before everybody piles in and things get crazy. He settles for the latter because he’s shy as heck, so he saves himself the nerves by waving happily across the room. “Hey, you’re new here! Nice to meet you, I’m Cody!” His Michael rings glint in the early morning sunlight — he must be a morning person.

His Aussie accent is drop dead GORGEOUS by the way, there’s nothing that can change my mind about that, I don’t make the rules.

He spots his seat directly across from you and flings his bag on the table, pulling out his chair and sinking into the (indescribably uncomfortable) plastic chair.

So the read-through goes okay, Sarah Paulson’s front and centre smoking and Evan Peters is slumped in a chair in a dark corner.

Scanning through the script, you searched the pages for any scenes where you and Cody are together. From page one, you’re noticing his name above yours A LOT.

You looked over to him and you find Cody gazing back at you, wearing such a warm smile he lights up the whole fucking room.

You quickly looked back down but you couldn’t help looking again and this time he’s winking.

Or blinking really.

It’s a wink.

But he can’t wink.

So he blinks.

Turns out Cody’s character is hopelessly in love with yours and your character bats him off daily.

So when you’re on set, you never know whether he’s gazing at you longingly because he’s getting into character or it’s real.

You’re just lucky he’s not caught you staring at him back.

Yet.

One day before you settled down for filming, you swore you caught him and Leslie Grossman giggling and gesturing towards you. In any other situation you’d think it was a bad thing but they’re too kind to be malicious, especially not behind someone’s back.

Sometimes you’d sit together at lunch and he’s aaaalways reading, he’s nose-deep in philosophy books 24/7 and he’ll read some paragraphs out loud to get everybody talking.

Well, not quite everybody... Gus doesn’t even bat an eyelid.

Every day he’s wearing a different extravagant ring. The costume department must be out of jewellery because he’s always trying them on and ‘testing them out’.

He’s a people person. If he’s not talking, he’s listening, asking questions and actively getting to know everybody.

He’s forever the most popular guy during breaks in shooting, he’s always swamped by people, cast and crew trying to speak to him. That’s why it’s so hard to catch five seconds to speak to him one-on-one... not that you’ve got any courage for that, at least not yet.

“Ask me who I’m wearing,” he shouts over to Billie, gesturing at some out-of-this-world outfit he’s got ready for a photoshoot later. “BALENCIAGAAAAAA!”

Seriously, he LOVES dropping AHS references. It’s obvious he’s a superfan and he tries to restrain it but he’s just so happy to be where he is, living the dream.

Asking him for feedback on your performance in certain scenes is just impossible, he’d never say a bad word about anybody.

DID I MENTION he tries to wink at everybody but... it’s just not happening. He’s working on it. 

Weeks later, you’re filming a scene where Cody has to try and kiss you and you brush it off.

His hands are resting on your hips and he’s towering over you, his lips are hovering so close to yours and his gorgeous blue eyes are pleading with you to let him touch you.

You keep messing up the scene because you’re shaking and blinking frantically, it’s not that you’re not a professional but he’s literally right there begging you to capture his lips and melt into him.

Cody laughs it off and tries to calm you down by whispering that it’s okay to be nervous... like that’s not how you calm a girl down but bless him for trying.

A bunch of takes later, you were shaking so much your lips accidentally brushed together and finally that contact was all you needed to snap you out of your nervousness.

You nailed the next take and the directors finally called it for the day so you all head back to your dressing rooms.

Just as you’re about to leave, Cody taps you softly on the shoulder and takes you to one side.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he nervously flicks his hair back from his forehead, looking down at his feet. “I was nervous too.”

“What’s there to be nervous about?” You enquire feeling a little intrusive at first but as you’ve got him in private, it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“Haven’t you seen the way I’ve been looking at you ever since the read-through? I can’t take my eyes off you, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

It’s like someone just smacked you with a brick, you’re totally dumbstruck.

“I—I thought that was just method,” you stutter, shaking your head nervously and some of your hair falls in front of your face.

Cody reaches to brush your hair behind your ear, his azure irises burning into yours like he can plunge right into your soul and pluck out your deepest desires.

“Is this method too?” He whispers.

He gazes at your lips as if he’s making a mental map of your face, knowing full well they’ll be the first thing on his mind in the morning and the last thing at night.

You dare to look down at his, he’s caught his bottom lip ever so slightly between his teeth.

Without another word, his fingers snake gently around the back of your neck and pull you in.

Cody’s lips press so softly against yours, begging you to let him know you feel the same.

Your eyes are closed but it’s like fireworks are dancing all around your vision, like a watercolour masterpiece forming in your mind.

You break away from his lips to breathe deeply and open your eyes to see his eyes glistening, a loving, fulfilled spark ignited by finally, finally kissing you.

You lean back in to sink into his lips, drawing into him deeper and deeper, you feel him smiling so hard against you — he took a risk on you and it paid off.

His large, gentle hands ghost down to your waist and pull you close until you’re flat against him, feeling his heart beating so frantically in his chest it might burst out.

You wrap your arms around him and he breaks your kiss for a moment, drinking in the sight of you flush up against him and feeling you still shaking in disbelief.

“You don’t need to be nervous anymore, Y/N,” he coos, “I’m falling for you.”

[padfootagain]

Dreams Come True

Here we go with my second fic for my 3600 followers !!!! This one is for Chris Evans. It's still super cute, like crazy fluffy, you have been warned!!

I hope you all like it :)

Gif not mine

Word Count : 3053

There is a particular hue that is quite indescribable, when the light of the sun crosses the leaves of a tree. It gives the tree different shades of green, lighter as the sunbeams kiss the leaves, and darker for the ones embracing the shade of those above them. It is similar to the work of a painter who's brush lost pigments on the way. It gives them the strange appearance of transparency that one matches only through watercolour, and it seems that one could even see the sky between the veins of the green leaves. And it is an ever-changing colour, that is set by both the tree one is examining and the season. It even depends on the time of day, actually, as the sun is different in the morning and in the afternoon.

To reach this particular colour you are witnessing now, one needs to lie down in the grass in Boston's Common Park on a Friday afternoon, at exactly 3 pm in June, under one of the oak trees. There's a cherry tree nearby in full bloom, that abandons its pink petals to the wind that carries them to you. A few petals pass above you now and then, bringing more colours to the green of the leaves and blue of the sky.

Dodger moves his head on your arm, but doesn't move more than that, still lying on the grass by your side. A dragonfly passes before your eyes, circling a couple of times above you, the light caught in its shining wings, before zooming away, a blue line flying through the park.

You hear Chris's loud laugh coming from your left and turn your attention to the source of the happy noise. He's running after the baseball ball, picking it up with his gloved hand, before turning back towards the child who's laughing too.

The tenderest smile forms on your features at the sight of Chris laughing with your daughter as he picks her up.

Seven years… how time flies… You can see her again as a new-born, tiny and fragile and so light in your arms, wrapped in a pink blanket. Her first steps and her first smile, and her first day at school, and her first time watching baseball…

She adores the sport now, and wants to become a player. You're not one to discuss her dreams, and neither is Chris. On the contrary, he's happy to train her as much as she wants… which means training her a lot. And so are you.

You think about that day almost eight years ago when you announced him the wonderful news. The evening had changed your life forever, and for the better too. You laugh at yourself when you think about how nervous you were to tell him then. How silly of you.

You remember, it was on a Tuesday, it was in September, and it was raining outside. You had run three tests a week before, but couldn't bring yourself to tell Chris.

You knew he had always wanted to have children, several, actually. He grew up in a large household and has a sharp sense of family. He's always wanted several children, a warm home to share with his family and large Thanksgiving meals oozing with love. So it wasn't the eventuality that he didn't want to have children that made you so nervous back then, it was the fear that he might not want to have children with you.

In your two-years long relationship, not once had you and Chris talked about children, or marriage, or any engagement involving more than a shared rent. You had been living together for a year, but that was all. You loved him more than anything, and you believed him when he told you he loved you, but none of you in a year had spoken about taking another step further. And you hadn't minded at all, to be fairly honest. You were happy with him, and that was all that mattered. Buyt then you were pregnant, and your little world was shaken from bottom to top.

Dodger moved on the sofa next to you, and you absent-mindedly stroke his ears, the feeling of the soft fur under your fingers bringing a little bit of comfort to your heart.

But you had to tell him, no matter how scared you were. He wouldn't abandon you, of that you were certain, but you didn't want him to feel like he had to stay with you. You didn't want to force it upon him.

You rested your hand on your stomach. Despite your fear, you were in pure joy, there was no question about keeping the baby or not. You merely had to gather your courage and tell Chris that despite the fact that it wasn't planned, you were pregnant.

You heard his keys turning in the keyhole, and you sat a little straighter on the sofa while Dodger was barking a couple of times and running to the door to welcome Chris. You had prepared dinner already, the table was set and all was ready. Chris was whistling as he walked inside your shared home, Dodger following him to steal as many strokes as he could, and he gave you a tender smile as he spotted you on the couch, the TV on although you had been paying no attention to the news.

"Hey, babe! Did you have a nice day?" he asked, throwing his leather jacket on the armchair and leaning to give you a quick kiss.

"Yeah. Normal, nothing interesting. What about you?"

"Great, actually. It's all good. New script has arrived, I'll get it tomorrow."

"That's great."

"Are you sure you're alright? You look tired, love," he insisted, a little frown darkening his features.

"I'm tired. I didn't sleep so well, and work was a mouthful. But I'm okay," you lied.

He nodded, apparently satisfied with your answer, before he would take a deep breath and frown again, before grinning.

"Did you cook?"

"I did. Yes, it's ready."

"Oh, I love you."

"I love you too."

You would have usually answered with a sassy remark, but you couldn't then. You were too nervous for that. Your throat was tightening a little more at each second that passed and you couldn’t imagine how you could tell him…

But you had to. You needed to.

It was late already, and you moved to the table to eat together, turning the TV off.

Chris was serving the meal you had prepared, and complementing how good it smelled and looked. You weren't listening to him. You had planned on waiting till the end of the meal to tell him, but you reckoned then, right before the precipice wide open at your feet, that you would never muster the strength and courage to tell him if you waited. It was now or never.

"Chris? Can I ask you something?"

He nodded as he sat opposite you, picking up his fork.

"Have you… Do you want to have children?"

You reckoned it was a little blunt, but couldn’t come up with anything smoother. He froze, his fork halfway up to his mouth, sauce dripping back into his plate.

"Well, yes. You know that. I'd like to have kids, one day."

One day.

You took a deep breath, your voice shaking when you spoke again.

"Do you think that… could you imagine having some with me?"

He put down his fork altogether.

"Could you? Imagine having kids with me?" he asked back.

"I asked first," you replied with a nervous smile.

He took a second to gather his thoughts, and find the right words to be spoken.

"Actually, the more I think about it, the more I think that… why not?"

"Why not?"

You were hoping for a little more than a why not?, but at least it wasn't a no.

"I mean… not now," he hurried to add, as if he longed to reassure you, but he was making you panic more and more instead. "But in a few years, maybe. I mean… I'm happy with you. I love you. And I think I can make you happy too. When I picture myself in five years, you're still by my side. And why not with a kid then, if we're still together and everything is alright, you know? Not such a bad prospect to look forward to, is it?"

He was almost falling into babbling and instead chose to fall silent.

You wished you could have a drink at that moment, but you obviously couldn't. Instead, you had to gather the nerves to tell him without the strength of alcohol. Being pregnant truly has its disadvantages.

"What if… What if I wanted that… sooner than in five years?"

He seemed to relax, and gave you a smile.

"I think we could talk about it, yeah. I think I could do with sooner than five years."

"What if it was now instead of being in five years time?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but stopped before he would say anything. He narrowed his eyes, clearly thinking hard.

"Y/N? What…? What do you mean?" he asked in a breath, and you could read hope in his blue eyes.

Hope for a no or a yes, you didn't know yet. Or well, you weren't sure, but you had your suspicions.

"Are you…?" he went on, and you noticed that he was out of breath, his eyes going a little round. "Are you…?"

You slowly nodded.

"I'm pregnant."

His mouth fell open, and he was frozen for a few seconds. A grin slowly formed on his face, and he let out a couple of gasps. He ran a hand through his hair as he stared at you, the shock painted over his features slowly turning into awe.

"You… You're pregnant?" he asked in a shaking voice made hoarse with withheld tears.

You nodded, feeling tears wetting your eyes too.

"Are you disappointed?"

"What? Disappointed? How could I be?"

"That… I don't know…"

He let out a nervous laugh, before jumping to his feet and reaching to wrap his strong arms around you.

"We're gonna have a baby…" he whispered, as if speaking the words out loud would make the realization settle in. You could hear the tears of joy in his voice.

He swept you off the ground, making you giggle.

"Yeah, we're going to have a baby," you grinned, letting your own tears escape too.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too, Chris."

He gave you a passionate kiss, and then gently pulled away, looking at you, and you could see that he was trying to carve the moment in his memory. He looked so happy… and you felt silly for being afraid to tell him. He cupped your face in a gentle caress as you ran your hands through his hair, taking in the joy that bathed the world around the two of you at this moment.

But then he dropped you back to the ground. And with a bright and dreamy grin, he asked you for something else entirely.

"Marry me."

You froze, and you saw that your reaction was making his confidence falter.

You gently pushed him away, clenching your jaw. That was precisely what you dreaded. Him feeling like he had to marry you, to take the next step, because you were expecting his child and not because he wanted to take the step with you.

"Chris… No, that's not… I don't care about that. I don't want you to ask me because I'm pregnant."

"I'm not. I'm asking because I love you."

"Chris, you don't have to act like this because that's what you feel like it's what is expected of you. I don't want that…"

"But I'm not. I just want to marry you. I… I wanted to ask you before you told me you were pregnant."

You snorted, clearly not convinced.

"I… hang on."

He walked back to the armchair where is jacket still rested, and reached for the inside pocket of the piece of clothing. He took a little, dark, velvety box out of it. You frowned at the object.

Chris walked back before you, and went down on one knee at your feet. Dodger tried to lick his face a couple of times, but Chris gently pushed him away with a smile, and the dog sat by his side instead.

"I had planned to take you out to a nice place, that's true. Romantic evening and everything. But I guess now is the perfect moment to ask you. Because I love you, I love you more than anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And yes, Jesus, yes, I want to build my family with you, I can't imagine anyone else but you to build a home with."

He opened the box to reveal a delicate silvery ring shining in the light of the room. You were crying even more by now.

"I received it today, I had to wait because they didn't have the right size. I guess it arrived just in time. I'm not asking just because I feel responsible for you. I'm asking because I thought about it for months, and when I try to picture my life without you, I can't. I never want to be parted from you. So… would you let me stick around till the end?"

You were too shocked to answer for several seconds. Meanwhile, Dodger was licking Chris's face again, making both of you laugh. And this time, Chris couldn't break free before he had stood up again.

"Even bubba can't wait for your answer. So?" he asked with hope making his blue eyes shine a little brighter than usual.

Of course, you had said yes.

You run your finger on the metal, the wedding band golden against your silvery engagement ring.

It was the best decision of your life you had taken that day…

"Mummy!"

Your daughter came running to you and let herself fall by your side in the grass. Her Red Socks T-shirt was stained with the green of the grass, and her matching cap stood lopsided on her head. She grinned at you, a couple of teeth still missing, but you reckoned it was the brightest grin in the Universe nonetheless.

"What's going on, sweetheart? Did you win against dad?"

"We weren't competing, he was helping me throwing. And I'm getting better, cause he couldn't catch it three times!"

"Three times! That's very good, darling."

You sat up, careful because of your large belly. The baby moved a little with you, and you rested a soothing hand on your stomach.

A month and a half left to wait and there would be another girl added to the family.

Chris appeared behind your daughter, carrying your son, who wore the same cap as his sister.

"Daddy said we're going to get some ice-cream!" the four years-old exclaimed with a grin.

"Ice-cream? Are you sure?"

"Yes! And I already know what I want."

"What flavour do you want then, Danny?"

"Vanilla!"

"Vanilla? Excellent choice," Chris approved. "What about you, Lizzy?"

"Chocolate!"

"Yeah, you're right, chocolate for me too," you nodded, moving to stand.

"Wait, love…" Chris started to put his son down to help you up, but you shook your head with a chuckle.

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

Lizzy was petting Dodger by now, who was more than happy to receive lots of hugs, while you slowly rose from the ground.

"Mummy, when are you going to play with us again?" your son asked.

"After the baby has arrived, darling."

"She can't run fast enough with that big belly, she wouldn't stand a chance against us anyway then," Chris teased, making you roll your eyes. "It wouldn't be fun."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Danny?"

"How do people make babies?"

You and Chris exchanged a glance, and you exploded with laughter.

"You laughed at me and my big belly, so you know what? You're the one to explain it to him," you ordered him.

"Okay, but… tonight, okay? I'll explain it tonight."

"Why not now?" your son naively asked.

"Because it's complicated, so we'll explain you when we're home."

"You, Chris. You will explain him when we're home."

"Alright, Alright…"

"Mum," your daughter called, taking your hand as you slowly started to advance across the grass.

"Yes, darling?"

You walked under the cherry tree a few petals falling upon you and making you all laugh at the sight of petals in your hair.

"Is that true that you can do magic?"

"Magic? Me? Who told you that?"

"Dad, did."

"Me?" Chris asked with a frown. "I've never said that."

"You said that Mum had made your dream come true. And that's magic. Or she's angel. Are you an angel, Mum?"

You gave your daughter a tender smile, before looking at Chris, who reached for your hand.

"No, sweetheart, I'm not an angel. And I can't do magic."

"But then, how did you make dad's dream come true?"

"She loves me, darling," Chris explained. "And my dream was to have you, and Danny, and the baby. My dream was to have a family. And your mum made it all possible, because she loves me."

You leaned to give him a kiss as you walked, and you felt both touched by the situation, tears rising to your eyes and Chris's alike.

Next to you, Lizzie was thinking hard.

"So… does that mean that love is some kind of magic?"

You chuckled.

"Yes, you can say that. It's the only form of magic there is, and it's very powerful."

"And it makes dreams come true, right? Every time?"

Chris wrapped his free arm around you as Dodger was passing next to him, walking a few steps ahead, wiggling his tail happily. In his arms, Danny yawned and rubbed his tired eyes. You guessed he would fall asleep before reaching home.

You turned to your daughter again.

"Yes, it's what makes dreams come true. Sometimes it takes a little time, you have to be patient. But in the end, you'll learn that it's all you need."

You left the peculiar green shades of the trees in sunlight and the cherry flowers behind, but you didn’t mind. The laughter and happiness were by your side.

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

 Tag list : @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi

@madamrogers @marvelcapsicle

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Pigments

Art Teacher Molly! Based on a set of head canons I posted a little while ago

Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment on Ao3!

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Caleb’s school had been a handful of rooms in the town hall building. He and the other children of the village had been roughly divided into two groups by age and taken by either the town’s only cleric, a dwarven priestess of Erathis who’d been sent to Blumenthal years ago to establish a strong faith amongst those people of the earth and had remained despite the local’s pleasant indifference, or the herbalist whenever she left the store with her nephew. Caleb would complete every task set for him within ten minutes and, instead, would be allowed to sit in the corner and read while the other children staggered their way through multiplication and verbs and basic Dwarvish. He read everything that could be found within the building, even staying in during playtime. The herbalist would share her tea with him and bring him scones when she could see that his parents were having a rough month.

Even as everything between who Caleb was now and that small child with unruly red curls and hollow cheeks and big eyes, even as all of it cracked and broke and rotted away for a number of reasons, it wouldn’t take much to bring him back to that little room. The dust motes dancing through the sunlight slanding in through the windows and falling on the blackboard with lines and lines of loopy handwriting that was clearly made to draw intricate sketches of plants and write labels on bottles of strange green liquids. The taste of flour and sugar baked together on his tongue, heavy with cherries, nettle tea, the taste of reassurance that maybe his stomach wouldn’t ache so bad when he went to bed that night, that maybe his mother’s heart wouldn’t break quite so much when she saw him. The promise of new words, so many it felt like he could barely hold them all in his mind, but he’d still always want more. Feeling like maybe one day he would be somewhere that would appreciate him for everything he knew.

It didn’t take much to send Caleb back there, to remind him of his days at school. Any little similarity would do it. But standing here, in an actual school, all he could think was how different it was from his own.

Molly’s hand hadn’t left his own since they’d gotten into the taxi. Caleb thought that meant the date was going well. The thought gave him a happy warmth in the bottom of his stomach, though he was very aware of his own inexperience. He wouldn’t really know if it was going well one way or the other, he had next to no data to fall back on.

But there was something in the way Molly kept stealing glances at him, leaving Caleb to just catch the slightest edge of his glance, the way there would always be a smile on his face whenever it happened. Almost as if just the sight of Caleb still sat beside him was enough to make Molly smile.

The hallways were left by the wide windows to alternate strangely between pitch black and wonky squares of yellow streetlight. The only noises were their own footsteps and the muted rumble of cars and voices outside. Of course, at nearly midnight, there was absolutely no one in the school.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here so late?” Caleb finally asked, his voice reverberating off tiles in shadow that he couldn’t even see.

Molly turned a little from where he was determinedly leading the way through the corridors and up the silent stairs, “Of course.” His hand, the one that wasn’t entwined with Caleb’s, reached into his shoulder bag and flashed a red lanyard with a faded, blurry picture of a far younger purple tiefling, “I’m staff. And you’re my guest.”

If he couldn’t see the staff badge for himself, Caleb wouldn’t have been able to believe that the loud, extravagant, naturally hedonistic singer he’d been dating for a month now was a teacher by day. The idea of Molly being an authority figure was like trying to imagine a fish climbing a tree or a shark swimming backwards. Something just wasn’t right about it.

But there was his name on the door they were approaching, Mr Tealeaf, neatly typed out in large, rounded letters surrounded by childish cartoons of paint brushes and easels, clearly added by whoever had made the sign in an attempt to make it brighter. But the stickers that had been placed around it with a heavy, generous hand and the graffiti style doodles done in loud, colourful marker were undoubtedly the work of Molly himself.

“Also I leave stuff in my classroom all the time,” Molly added, a little bashfully, “They gave me a key after the one time they found me trying to climb through the window. Someone called the police.”

Caleb had to smile at the mental image, “What did you forget that time?”

Molly suddenly seemed very interested in his keys as he put them in the door, “Uh, my phone.”

Caleb’s smile grew, “The same thing we’re having to come back here to get right this moment?”

Molly turned and poked him in the chest with a finger tipped by a long, deep red nail, playfully challenging, “What’s your point, Widogast?”

“Nothing at all,” Caleb showed his palms, his grin not fading at all.

Molly flicked his tail at him and disappeared into the classroom, “I wouldn’t bother but it’s got the cinema tickets on my email…”

Caleb nodded along, more absorbed in looking around. Even with the light off, the small space was a riot of muted colour, there wasn’t an inch of the walls that wasn’t covered in an art piece of some description. One was groaning under what looked like three classes worth of crookedly sewn embroidered patches, one dripped with just as many watercolours, one had bunting haphazardly strung up that boughed under a store’s worth of bead bracelets and paper flower garlands. Even things that couldn’t be pinned up found their place; the long banks of sinks that circled the room like a moat had sculptures standing sentinel, frozen in the act of listing slightly to the left or right.

Where there wasn’t displays of work there were boards on different artists and movements, one about Frida Kahlo backed by loud, patterned fabric, one about Van Gough set against a recreation of Starry Night done with twists of blue silk. The others were people Caleb had never heard of but he was sure he’d know everything he needed to after reading all of the carefully typed out squares of information.

Though the colour could only slightly be seen with the lack of light, Caleb could practically smell it. The scent of charcoal and pigment and fresh paper was on nearly everything, buoyed by strong coffee and sugary tea. Less pleasant was the slightest smell of stagnant water, probably left in paint trays and clinging to brushes, though it was mild enough that Caleb didn’t mind.

Molly went straight to his desk while Caleb was still staring, digging around in drawers that looked like they were overflowing until he came up with his phone, “There you are, you bastard. Yasha said she was going to super glue it to my hand if I left it at work again, let’s hope she’s forgotten that...”

Caleb made a soft noise of affirmation, ninety nine percent of his attention still on the room around him.

Molly gave a soft chuckle, “Do you like it? I know it weirds some people out, they can’t imagine me actually doing this as a job.”

Caleb’s eyes flickered over to Molly, managing to pull himself out of a sudden hyperfixation on L. S. Lowry. He allowed himself a long moment just to look at him, standing there in the half light. Though all they’d been planning to do was go to the pictures and get a few drinks afterwards, he was dressed as extravagantly as ever. Enough piercings to make his ears droop a little, a shirt made of nothing but glittering mesh patterned with stars over a tight vest and leather pants tucked into boots that went up to his knees. Not much on display but everything hinted at, his tattoos vibrant even in shadow. He looked as far away from a teacher as anyone could imagine.

But Caleb could see touches of him everywhere in the room they stood in. He saw him in the messiness of the desk but how he clearly knew where everything was regardless. He saw his guiding hand in every single work of art on the wall, he saw him in the gushing praise scribbled in red pen on the front of the pile of test papers near his computer. He saw him in the tin of biscuits right by his elbow, ready to be brought out at a moment’s notice for a child who was having a hard day or who’d achieved something after trying so hard.

Or a child who maybe hadn’t had any breakfast that day.

Caleb felt his lower lip wobble dangerously for a moment but he quickly brought it under control, managing to smile, “I don’t think it’s weird. I can’t imagine a job more perfect for you.”

Molly beamed at that, some pride warming his eyes now as he gently touched a piece of paper lying on his desk, a pencil drawing done in bright colours that was clearly meant to be himself done by a child that had clearly just been introduced to Cubism.

“Well,” he was even blushing a little, around the edges, “I do enjoy it. And that is about the nicest thing anyone’s said to me about my job.”

“Well, it’s true,” Caleb leaned against one of the tables, one hand awkwardly seizing his arm, though the smile on his face was undeniable, spreading across his face the more Molly kept looking at him like that.

Molly twirled his tail between his fingers. Was Caleb thinking wishfully or did he always do that when he was feeling charmed? His eyes roved over his desk, looking like he was trying to decide whether something was a good idea or whether it would come off as dorky.

“I...I have something for you,” he eventually grinned, eyes flickering up to Caleb, “Call it a prize for coming on this rescue mission with me.”

“Oh?” Caleb leaned forward slightly, hoping it might be a kiss.

Molly swept up, ringing slightly as he went with all his adornments, “My students were learning about mosaic and glass work? So we did a little jewellery making and seeing how I have to demo everything, I ended up with this…”

Caleb suddenly found something small and smooth in his hand. He looked to see a bracelet, a simple loop of black string with rounded, oblong beads in alternating sea green and vibrant blue.

“They’ll really bring out the colours of your eyes,” Molly murmured hopefully, “They always remind me of the sea so I guess I must subconsciously have been...thinking of you? While I made it? I must have always meant to give you it, even before I realised it.”

Caleb’s mouth opened, hoping words adequate to express just how much the gift meant to him would just come pouring out. Of course they didn’t, he was just left stammering until he stopped himself and just looked Molly in the eye as he slipped the bracelet over his skinny wrist.

“I love it, Molly. Thank you.”

Judging by Molly’s face, Caleb’s eyes must have said what his words couldn’t. That was when he got his kiss, sweet and gentle, coloured in moonlight.

And the bracelet would stay on his wrist all night. And the many dates they’d have after their slightly delayed trip to the cinema.

And the years they’d have together after that.

[sylleboi]

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 | 30/03/20

For this week, we have a new workshop to do, tying into the first brief (Pick & Mix), focusing on surrealism and the theories linked with this by psychologist Sigmund Freud. 

Attached was the following text written by our teacher to introduce this workshop and the tasks that come with it;

“After a successful week with the post it note comic, and some excellent write ups that are really well documented, this week's task revisits some of the work from Term 1 (as we started in our drawing sessions) with some of the ideas stemming from Surrealism, dada and the psychoanalytical theories of Sigmund Freud.

This task is presented by Bristol based artist & animator Will Barras who will be offering commentary on your work at the end of the week. Follow the PDF attached and work through the tasks at your own pace. You have all week so take your time and experiment as much as possible.

We have more challenges to come, so try to put time into these as they will form the main body of your experimental work.

Upload your results and be as creative and imaginative as possible, but most importantly let go and embrace the ride.

Good luck peoples!”

Consider the primary objectives of a Final Project:

Collect information (Research) 

Recall knowledge (Use learning)

Apply understanding through application and review (Propose & make exciting work and evaluate it)

I find that the above points refer to a simplified process of working through meet the final goal that is set by the FMP, althought this also applies to workshops and side projects that gets documented on this blog, as well as the productionfile.

Question: Are you doing these things and how can we improve and develop this?

I feel that I already do these, althought I yet have to further improve on evaluating the things I do, asking “Why” more often.

Answer: Experimentation - (The action or process of trying out new or revisiting ideas, method and activities)

≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡

This weeks aims & objectives:

To review basic principles of automatic practice in relation to a specific artist

To experiment with working from abstract starting points

Be generate experimental work that shows progression of learning

To compare your work to the work of others

The surrealist/dada movement was an art movement, as well as a literary movement, that began around 1915 - 1917. Some of the key artists leading this movement was Hannah Höch, André Breton & Max Ernst. The movement aimed to break free from the chains that weighed down everyone during the great depression- The artistic field had now begun to evolve into a playground for ones’ imagination, challenging what used to not be acceptable in common culture.

Accident & chance

Embracing Improvisation (What does improvisation mean to you?)

BEING AUTOMATIC!

Surrealist automatism is a method of art-making in which the artist suppresses conscious control over the making process, allowing the unconscious mind to have great sway

Unlocking the unconscious mind.

In Sigmund Freud's psychoanalytic theory of personality, theunconscious mind is a reservoir of feelings, thoughts, urges, and memories that are outside of our conscious awareness.

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𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍:

This weeks challenge for experimentation is bought to you by Bristol based urban artist and animator Will Barras. Your task is to analyse his work, considering the effect of the visual language (how he uses line and tone for example). Find out about him and considering the aforementioned surrealist principles write a short statement to suggest how he uses those principles in his own work. 

Will Barras

Illustrator, artist and animation director, Will Barras, currently lives and works in London, althought he grew up in Birmingham and later moved to Bristol to study graphic design. He quickly became known for being part of a group of young artists, working within Bristol’s street art scene. This then led to him appearing in a book titled “Scrawl”, alongside the artists Steff Plaetx and Duncan Jago, becoming a core and founding member of the Scrawl collective. “Scrawl”, originally published in 1999, was an influencial book made to document a new movement in street art, graphics and illustration. 

Barras was selected to be one of the original artists for this collective. He was selected due to being renouned for his methods of portraying fluidity in movement. He also worked closely with creating pieces that were more narrativly driven compositions, incorperating such narratives into his line work. Barras’s unique composition of these three key elements, made his mark as an artist all the more inspiring, pushing new ideas against the grain of classic art. All of this has led his work to become staple pieces in many galleries across the globe. This includes Asia, Europe and the U.S.

He has painted a variety of different murals around the world, within this mix is one that he did with the members of his Bristol group at Tate Modern’s tubine hall, as well as one that he did for Pow!Wow! Festival in Taipei. In the studio Th1ng, located in central London, he worked as the head of animation.

Visual analysis and study:

His artwork has a very recongnizable style and feel to it. It has an urban flare to it, making it feel very fitting within the scene of street art.

“A big barn I painted in Dumfries with Amy Winstanley for the Spring Fling festival and Recoat gallery based in Glasgow.

http://www.amywinstanley.com

http://www.spring-fling.co.uk

http://www.recoatdesign.com”

The painting below has little information about it, as for what I can find, but somehow the piece almost speaks for itself. The play on perspective, composition and values is very eyecathing. It impresses me how he is able to convey motion to such an extend that you can almost just imagine it moving before your eyes, but perhaps that’s just me.

“#divinestyler #defmask #gammaproforma #kallenbachgallery”

I attemped to do some simple continuous warping animation to convey what I mean a little better:

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𝖁𝖎𝖘𝖚𝖆𝖑 𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖙𝖞:

01: Using a wide brush create a large sheet of accidental/automatic/ unconscious blots & splatters, organics shapes and curvaceous marks using a range of coloured ink/paint. The brighter and more acidic the better!

Because of the fact that I don’t have paper made for paints/ink, I decided to try doing this task digitally- simulating the analogue look of watercolour or watered down ink, or even arcrylics.

I did this by using a variety of different watercolour brushes, made to emulate the look of the analogue mediums. I used them as randomly as I possibly could, trying not to plan where I would put the next brush stroke.

Once I had put down all the paint stokes, I then went over it while the layer was locked with a big soft edged brush, layering up different colours until I was happy with how it looked.

02: Make 3-4 sheets of these and then let them dry.

Digital 01:

Digital 02:

03: Then using fineliner develop these marks into faces/characters/scenes by adding details/features and developing these into detail illustrations that are spontaneous and free flowing.

For the linework, I primarily used one single brush; hard edged and circular. (The one selected in the picture below)

I chose this for the reason being that I have found it to be very responsive to the use of a drawing tablet & pen. It does a good job at making expressive lines with its tilt sensitivity, making it a pleasure to use; It reminds me of how brush pens work and feel.

Here are a few tests on some of the lines I can create with it;

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Digital 01: 

Digital 02:

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Digital 02: Process

1. I have always found that beginning these blob doodles are the most diffucult for me. Perhaps because it takes me a little while to really get into the flow of continously seeing images in the randomness.

2. I began from the left, slowly working my way to the right and the top, since I felt that I had more clear lines to go from being around the edge of the paint.

3. Eventually I braved it and went right for the middle of the piece. This was the turning point for me in the process of doing this. It enabled me to truly let get, have fun, and not feel intimidated and nervous to do the next doodle.

4. This is when I began drawing creatures of the sea, slowly building up a story/narrative.

5. I don’t actually remember what I was even thinking at this point anylonger- I was simply just letting the pen guide me around the canvas; letting it all flow together however it felt as to do so.

6. I began to delve into the little details. I felt as if they would add to the general flow of the piece; being busy, yet in a manner that lets your eyes wander with curiosity.

7. I was now moving on to doing the right side of the piece. I had a little more trouble visualising the top right corner, so I did that last.

8. At this point I felt a little stuck as to what to do, hence it being, yet again, dedicated for adding some more little details here and there.

9. Eventually I overcame the frustration I had built up and took to do the right side of the artwork.

10. I tried to convey motion and flow by the way the animals are positioned and posed, trying to make it calm in the middle where the girl is, and then busy/chaotic the further away you get from her.

11. This second to last step was, again, for adding detail. I wanted to fill up any bits that I felt appeared too empty and spaced out, so to no disrupt the feeling of flow in the painting.

12. With the inking done and rendered to my satisfaction, the last step was to play around with colours.

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Digital 01: Colour variations

Digital 02: Colour variations

04: Scan/photograph and upload to Moodle.

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𝕱𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖊𝖜 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓:

Which of these words would you use when discussing the work of Will Barras and your own art pieces:

I would most definitly use;

Organic/Fluid

Figurative

Automatic

On top of these I would probably add;

Harmonic

Dynamic

Epochal

Visionary

Can you construct a comparative sentence/paragraph using at least 5 of these words. What are the differences and similarities between the works you have created. What conclusions did you make about this experimentation?

[megalony]

Baby of mine- Part 4

Another part of my latest Ben Hardy series which has gained some lovely feedback.

Taglist: @marshmallowmae  @langdonzvoid  @butlegendsneverdie  @jennyggggrrr  @luvborhap  @caborhapch

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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Ever since the date had been added to the calendar (Y/n) could no longer stop her eyes from drifting over to it. As if the cursive writing on the page was a beacon that she could do nothing but be drawn over to.

The couple had a calendar hanging on the kitchen door to remind them both of special dates such as auditions, family birthdays, going out with friends or just general notes. This was the first time Ben had added Tommy's birthday to the calendar. He didn't need to remind himself of the date that was looming closer and closer, now only three days away. The date was burned into Ben's memory and flashed before his eyes whenever he closed them, but it was the first time that (Y/n) knew when the date was. It meant a lot that he was letting her know when this day was, having concealed all of his emotions to himself for the past four years they had been together.

Now that the date was there it allowed (Y/n) to know that Ben's sudden change in behaviour was for good reason. He was less talkative than usual, his mind often drifting but he was a bit more... clingy now. Hugs seemed to last longer as if he couldn't bear to let her go.

As promised, children had not come up in any conversation that the couple had had over the past month. (Y/n) was sticking to the agreement that Ben needed time and knowing he was at least thinking about it made her happier than ever because he wasn't shutting down the idea instantly. Her happiness had been dampened ever so slightly last week when Ben suddenly came home with a new dog. (Y/n) wasn't against pets and the dog was gorgeous, but she couldn't help but wonder why he suddenly decided to get a dog now. Something inside of her was telling her that this dog was Ben's substitute for a baby, God knows Frankie was now like a child to them over this past week.

Shaking that thought from her head, (Y/n) walked out of the kitchen, drink in hand as she made her way down the hall to the stairs. Ben's car was here and so was his keys and jacket meaning he hadn't gone out and he wasn't downstairs so her next bet was upstairs.

(Y/n) found that her guess was correct when she quietly pushed open the door to their shared bedroom. Her eyes instantly finding Ben sprawled out in the middle of the bed, Frankie tucked away neatly under his arm. The sight made (Y/n)'s heart swell and break at the same time, if Ben was like this with their dog then she could only imagine what he would be like if they did agree on having a child together. Ben held no problem hugging Frankie, taking her for walks, feeding her and just treating her like their family and child but the thought of another child didn't seem appealing to him. She couldn't quite wrap her mind around this, but then again (Y/n) hadn't been the one to lose a child before.

Ben had no interest, or at least not a very high interest in children because he had always told himself Tommy was enough and that the fears of another child and just going through the process in general wasn't worth it to him.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, (Y/n) took a moment to study the actor who simply looked drained at this point. The colour had been darkened beneath his eyes, his face a lot paler than usual and he generally seemed worn out which (Y/n) could tell was from stress. He didn't know how to keep himself calm and this week was getting progressively worse because the clock was ticking down. Three more days and Ben would face a day that made him feel sick. There was never a way that Ben could feel able to celebrate Tommy's birthday because of how he had been snatched from them. All Ben could do was feel cheated and inconsolable.

Turning her gaze to the side table on her left, (Y/n) felt a wave of confusion flow through her at the item sitting delicately next to the lamp.

There was a dusty coloured baby blue box that looked to be a show box of sorts sitting on the table. The box didn't look new, the corners were beginning the flake revealing the brown cardboard that was tearing just a little at the top and bottom of the corners. There were little indents here and there that showed it had been regularly moved about and handled meaning Ben hadn't bought or found it today.

Intrigue sparked to life in (Y/n) as she knew for definite this wasn't something of hers, and Ben had never gotten this out before. She would have noticed if it had been in his chest of draws since she regularly had to stuff his clothes back into the draws when he pulled them all out looking for something in particular. Ben's wardrobe wasn't much better except it held fewer items, she would have noticed this box at the top or bottom of the wardrobe over the past three years they had lived together.

Her head leaned to the side as her hand reached out to trail a finger over the lid. Feeling the smoothness of the cardboard and the flecks of dust tickling her skin. (Y/n) didn't really think before her hand was carefully lifting up the lid to see what contents it held inside if any. Her sparkling eyes catching sight of a pair of dark ocean blue shoes that held a small layer of dust that showed they had been cleaned but not lately. The size of the shoes implying they were for a child, more specifically a baby which allowed her mind to make the connection that this was something to do with Tommy.

Her heart hammered away at her ribcage so suddenly (Y/n) was sure she was suffering some kind of heart attack as she could feel the adrenaline bursting to life in such a dramatic way it actually hurt. Her lungs freezing in their movements when a rough hand suddenly clamped down around her wrist, yanking her hand away from the box. Causing the lid to fall limp over the box, slotting into place once again as if it had never been opened or touched.

Turning her head sharply to the right, (Y/n) locked eyes with Ben.

His emerald green eyes were beginning to darken like they were a canvas being tainted with watercolours. His chest beginning to heave as she could see the muscles surrounding his jaw pressing outwards under a thin layer of skin. Allowing his jaw to move an inch either side as his teeth were clearly grinding together at her actions.

The box was Ben's property, (Y/n) had no need to go snooping around. She knew it wasn't hers that was obvious and since it wasn't then it obviously had to belong to Ben. Normally he wouldn't mind her glancing through his things but it was common courtesy to ask instead of looking when she thought he was asleep which he clearly wasn't anymore. That box meant more to Ben than (Y/n) knew and he didn't want her looking inside it didn't matter that they were together. Ben didn't want anyone looking inside and if he had woken up earlier he would have put it away again.

"Leave it alone." His words came out barely more than a whisper but the way he said them showed he wasn't messing around.

"I- I'm sorry... I was curious." It wasn't as if (Y/n) knew that the box held Tommy's things. If she had known she wouldn't have tried to look inside because she knew that was personal, her curiosity got the better of her, now she knew that curiosity may well have killed the cat.

Letting go of her wrist Ben slowly pushed himself up, watching Frankie hop off the bed before he did the same. Clicking his spine back into place before taking hold of the box so delicately as if he was afraid it would shatter in his hold. Ben's thumbs brushed over the box before he decided to put it in the wardrobe, no point putting it anywhere out of the way now.

"Babe, I didn't mean to be rude. I just don't like anyone looking in there." Moving back to sit beside her on the bed Ben wrapped his arms around her, realising he had come across cold and a little cruel which wasn't his intention. The box held personal things of Tommy's and Ben didn't even let his parents look in there, it was his and he liked to keep it that way. He rested his head on her shoulder, sighing in relief when she held onto his hands that were wrapped around her middle showing she wasn't upset.

"What are you doing on Friday?" (Y/n)'s voice was delicate, showing she was testing the waters in case Ben either didn't know yet or didn't want to talk about it.

Friday would be Tommy's birthday.

"Me and Cora always go to the grave for a while... then Mick said he'd head out for a drink with me." It was a tradition for Ben and Cora to go to the grave together, just the pair of them. If that wasn't a tradition then Ben would ask (Y/n) to go with him because he couldn't ever do that on his own. Mick was one of Ben's closest friends, he had known Ben before and after he had Tommy and was there to help with whatever Ben needed.

Turning her head to look down at Ben (Y/n) frowned, confusion in her eyes as she remembered that Mick was working away, he wouldn't be in London this week. So how was he going out for a drink with him?

"I thought Mick was away?"

"He's coming back." Ben's response was rather quick, showing (Y/n) that Mick was coming back for this very occasion. That wasn't a bad thing, far from it but it didn't really make her feel very good. (Y/n) had been with Ben for four years before he decided to tell her that he had a son. She wanted to be able to help him get through this but he was still refusing to acknowledge that she even knew it was as if he was still acting like no one else knew Tommy had ever existed. He was going out all day and wasn't wanting any help or support from (Y/n) when they were meant to be getting married.

"He's coming back for Friday specifically, isn't he? Ben look at me." Unwrapping his arms from around her middle Ben pulled back so he could do as she requested. Watching as she moved so she was properly facing him, hurt in her eyes that made his heart ache. "I want to help you but I can't if you carry on like I don't know Tommy ever existed. Every time I ask you how you feel you change the subject, I ask if you need anything you just shrug it off. Let me help."

"How?" Ben's shoulders sagged as he wondered how she thought she could help him. Ben was coping with this in his own way just like he had for the past seven years now. If he thought there was something (Y/n) could do to help him he would tell her but there wasn't.

"I don't know, be support for you? How exactly is getting pissed going to help? I thought you said Mick was the one to stop you from drinking so much." The thought of Ben disappearing with Mick to a pub didn't seem like a good combination with Tommy's birthday. It seemed more like they would get drunk to drown Ben's sorrows and drink with grief never mixed well. surely there was another way to help Ben.

"Alcohol numbs the pain, it dulls the senses and that feels so much better than sitting in bed with a hole in my heart." Ben's eyes burned into her own with an igniting passion. Alcohol had the ability to dull everything down and make people feel dumb or just in another body, Ben loved that effect because it stopped the pain even if he became useless and senseless for a few hours. "Mick is coming down because he doesn't trust me, alright? I'm not an alcoholic but I abuse the effects it can have when I get upset and Mick knows I can drink myself under the table and keep drinking. He threatened to take me to rehab because I was drinking when I was taking antidepressants and painkillers, he is one of the best mates I have and I'm glad he doesn't trust me because I don't trust myself. This is what has happened for the past six years, (Y/n)."

Ben had told his friends, Cora and now (Y/n) time and time again that he wasn't an alcoholic and that was true. The only times he got bad was when his mind started to slip into a state of depression and that was only when the thought of Tommy got too much, usually around his birthday.

Alcohol numbed everything and Ben would do anything to have that feeling because he knew he wasn't and would not be likely to get addicted to drinking. He could drink in moderation or none at all but when he lost Tommy he had been put on antidepressants and then painkillers for something else. Alcohol wasn't allowed when taking those tablets and Ben washed them down with drink because he didn't care. Mick was the one to find out and help Ben, threatening to take him to rehab was what pushed Ben to agree that he needed councilling and support.

Mick couldn't seem to trust Ben to drink on his own and Ben was thankful for that because even if Ben wasn't going to do anything rash, it meant Mick would be there to keep him in line. It was a precaution Ben was willing to take to keep himself above water.

"How is it possible that I've been with you for four years now and I don't recognise the man standing in front of me?"

This wasn't the Ben that (Y/n) had come to know. She was learning more about him in this past month than she had in the last four years they had spent together. This Ben had a child she didn't know about before, this Ben had a drink problem when times got tough and this Ben was reckless and uncaring about himself.

"Because you know a different version. I'm not the careless pained person I was back then, I'm not reckless or broken anymore because I have you this time around. There are just some things that are different, you think you're not helping but you are, I just need to keep these traditions to help me that's all." Ben had changed. He had stopped himself from wallowing every day in his pain and from abusing substances that were causing his health to worsen. Ben had learned to take care and of himself and to care what happens to him which he didn't before. This was him, right now in front of her, what (Y/n) didn't know about him was just the bad things that he didn't want to remember. He needed her in so many ways that she couldn't even begin to understand, but he also needed the stability that those traditions gave him too.