#but practicing shading and im learning stuff......slowly
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clowndrawz · 1 year ago
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why are you here?
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the-stray-liger · 3 years ago
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when your current art looks shitty compared to what you used to do that's when you know your getting better at it
ive got an old sketch on my wall from middle school of Typical Not Self-Insert Character In Cool Armor With Giant Sword. It's incredible. How did I do that. I can't draw like that now.
but I can SEE this old picture, despite the embarrassment around it's actual subject, is actually good. When I first hung it up way back when it was just because I wished I had a sword. Now I look at the confident lines, the shading, the grasp of depth perception on so many angular objects, the way the cloth of the cape falls in folds that have weight to them. I can recognize what makes it a nice drawing. I couldn't do that before.
there's this thing i read about once where people who are getting better at a skill go through this cycle of This Is Impossible to WOW I'M SO GREAT AT THIS to I Have Lost The Ability To Preform Even The Most Basic Part Of This And Should Fire Myself Forever
and then slowly they realize they can kinda do it again. Hey, they can even do that one thing they've never been able to do before!
rinse, recycle, repeat. Every year I go through it. Depression doesn't help. For a few years I didn't draw anything at all and almost burned all my old sketches. Now I'm doodling ducktale characters and making fat circular birds with twig legs.
I aged out of school and have never had a job (thank you family for not letting me starve) and my whole damn life people have been asking me why I don't sell my drawings.
because I can't draw, I tell them, staring at the things I made two years ago and couldn't replicate now if someone put gun to my head.
but sometimes, for a few months, I can. I can sit down and have an idea and make it happen. Sometimes the idea is a favorite character. Sometimes its just a random pattern of flowers. Every time it happens I'm scared it'll be the last time.
Then I remind myself of all the other people who go though some version of this stupid cycle. If you like drawing, you'll probably draw again someday- maybe not in the same style as you used to- but if it makes you happy you'll do it for the happy feelings, and if you draw you'll get better at it, and as you get better you'll learn to see all the flaws, and you'll get discouraged, and that's normal.
I also remind myself of how other people always seem to like the drawings I'm least happy with, and pass over the ones I'm actually proud of. People have different taste. Everyone else's sucks compared to mine, for example, which a completely true and unbiased fact (lol).
Right now I can draw because I never show any of my drawings to anyone. They're for me. Mine. And the voice in the back of my head chattering about wasting time and being a useless burden can go stuff itself.
Yesterday I drew a cartoon duck. It sucks. I had a lot of fun WHILE making it though. And the duck looks a lot better than it did when I first drew one a week ago. Practice makes progress. Talent is bullshit. Skills are learned and maintained.
so my advice is draw something badly and giggle while you do.
Hey anon! You're absolutely right. I remember back when I was drawing fulll time going thru a couple art blocks where everything I made looked awful bc I was learning to look at it with more critical eyes and my hands hadn't caught up yet. I feel like that's a big part of my burnout too-I suddenly learned a lot of theory and I had come to a point where I hadn't developped the skills to match and it destroyed a lot of my confidence and self esteem
It's also that at the end of the day I forgot who I was drawing for bc I was so obsessed with social media recognition and with algorithms and stuff the harder I worked the less notifications I got
And I generally have a HUGE problem with guilt and feeling like a burden too like I feel you 600% on that lol I always felt terrible bc I couldn't make a living out of my art
I think Im gonna work again on making art that's only for me and drawing things I enjoy even if it's not like the best quality or quantity. I'm gonna take it slow (even if it drives me up the wall) and have fun again!
Thank you so much for the kind word and advice!!
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tuanhood · 4 years ago
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theta
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pairing: frat!bambam x reader
genre: smut
warnings: 18+, language, cringey frat stuff, fingering
word count: 4,400+ 
summary: you haven’t been doing so well in stats, so your tutor - the last person you thought would be teaching you something - recommends giving you an incentive. 
a/n: hi guys! i’m a little late... but it’s kinda technically still the weekend? ngl this definitely isn’t my best work and I’m sorry for that because I feel like I’ve been lacking a little bit lately! but i promise that i have a few things in the works that will hopefully be better! but nonetheless enjoY! 
lambda | alpha | delta | gamma | kappa | sigma
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“Okay so in a college class, the average IQ is 115. Assuming that the distribution is normal and that the standard deviation is 15. What percentage of the class has an IQ between 105 and 130?” 
You felt like you were going to die. 
When you were a little girl, you’d fantasize about all the fun and cool things you’d be able to do in college. Stay up late, hang out with your friends all the time, eat whatever you wanted, and take the classes that would help you become the best-selling author you aspired to be. 
In all of those daydreams and fantasies, you never pictured yourself in practical agony studying for a statistics class that you never wanted to take in the first place. You were more of an English and critical analysis girl, definitely not a science and math girl. Especially not stats. 
You told yourself probably a hundred times throughout the quarter that you could make it through. That you could maybe actually do this, but sometime between weeks three and four you got completely lost and when you received your midterm grade back, you knew you had to ask for help. 
“I don’t fucking know,” you exhaled in frustration as you practically slammed your head down onto the table in front of you. 
There’s a pause before Bambam lets out a sigh of his own, “let’s come back to that one later then.” 
This was how most of your sessions with Bambam went. He’d read the questions out loud to you as if was going to help, hope that you’d be able to solve it – which you typically wouldn’t – and then you’d give up in frustration. Then you’d call it a day. 
That was another thing. Another thing that made this whole tutoring thing even worse – you were being tutored by Bambam. As in Bambam of Theta Chi.
As dumb as you felt saying it, but you felt even more pathetic for having to be so terrible at stats that you have to be tutored by a frat boy. Sure he came highly recommended by the people at your school that put together and pair people off for the tutoring sessions, but it didn’t get rid of the pain you felt when you had to tell your friends who exactly was helping you pass stats. Or… at least trying to help. 
“Okay, so what is the probability of rolling snake eyes using two fair dice?”
Maybe you were being shallow, but even his voice screamed frat guy and not the master of statistics who is now teaching his peers. You don’t know why but it aggravated you. Traditionally he wasn’t supposed to be good at these kinds of things, someone like you was. It didn’t make sense. 
You groaned, your head still on the table, muffled by the surface, “I don’t know? 1/36?” 
At your answer, you could feel Bambam straighten up beside you. You had to admit the boy was a trooper for being willing to meet you at your apartment today instead of your usual spot in the library or at Starbucks. You just couldn’t be bothered to make the trek to campus, if you were going to have another agonizing day of probability, deviation, and whatever – it was going to be from the comfort of your living room floor. 
“Correct! See Y/N you’re not a lost cause.”
Bringing your head up from the coffee table, you grimace at him, “I never said I was a lost cause.” 
His cheeks turned a shade of light pink, clearly embarrassed by his statement, but being the cool and easygoing frat guy, he is – he covers it up, “I know. Dude, I’m just saying, chill.” Leave it to Bambam to cover up any real emotions. 
Even though it was frustrating that you were being tutored by a guy in Theta Chi and you felt lame whenever you admitted to anyone, it didn’t necessarily mean that you had anything against Bambam. Before he had started tutoring you, the encounters you had with Bambam were fine – certainly not an “oh my god you are so freaking annoying” situation. They were minimal of course, just a hello or a how are you at various school events or parties. You didn’t hate him, which was why at the beginning between the studying you had tried to talk to him and get to know him. But he never said anything real or authentic – it always felt like he was putting on some kind of ultra-frat boy act for you. Whenever you asked questions about him, things he liked to do, what he was studying or his family he would simply shy away from it and talk about Theta Chi. You didn’t get it. 
“Bambam is so freaking deep. I had a two-hour drunk conversation with him at Theta Chi’s party last weekend and my mind has been opened.” Your friend had told you when you told her about him tutoring you. 
So what? Did he have to be drunk to want to talk to you about something other than probability? Or was it just that he didn’t want to talk to you? You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it bothered you a little too much for some unexplainable reason.
“I am chill,” you confirmed with him – a bit too bitterly. You couldn’t tell if your annoyance came from the ongoing frustration of not understanding stats regardless of how many times you’ve met with Bambam or the fact that he was constantly shying away from you two actually getting to know each other. 
“Well…” he began suddenly, swallowing almost nervously, “what if we work on a rewards-based system?” 
You scoffed at him, “what am I? A child?” 
“Do you want me to answer that? Listen… all I’m saying is that rewards or a prize can be a good motivator sometimes. It definitely can’t hurt the studying process.” 
There was a part of you that felt annoyed at Bambam for thinking that the only way that you were going to understand any of this was through some kind of incentive. An incentive that had nothing to do with your overall goal which was to not fail the class. However, you had to admit you were curious as to what Bambam could bring to the table when it came to “rewards,” so you decided to play along – for now.
“What kind of motivators are we talking about?” 
For a second you swear you see Bambam fidget nervously in his seat, but it happens so quickly, you’re sure it must be your brain playing a trick on you, “I don’t know… I’m literally the co-social chair of Theta Chi so I pretty much can get you whatever you want. Booze, drugs… sex.” 
At his last “category” for rewards, your interest is peeked, but not in a weird or perverted way – you swear, “what the social chair orchestrates and plans sexual encounters now?” 
He laughed and shakes his head, “definitely not. I’m just saying… If there was anyone you were interested in at Theta Chi… I could probably set it up for you. I mean you’re definitely not bad looking so I don’t think it would be difficult.” 
You were half pleased by Bambam’s compliment and intrigued that by the fact that it seemed like perhaps his “non-tutoring” personality was emerging from the surface. It caused you to push more regarding his “reward” if it meant that you could see more of it, “So what? I solve the next equation and I get to fuck Im Jaebeom? Is that how this works?” 
He clicked his tongue, “Jaebeom, huh? Wouldn’t have thought he would be your type.”
For some reason, you suddenly felt a wave of nervousness rush through your body and you feel defensive as though you have to explain yourself for some reason, “No- I mean it was just an example.” 
Bambam nodded his slowly and looked away from you for the first time since he brought up the incentive thing. His focus goes back to the textbook in front of both of you, “It’s okay if he is. Jaebeom’s a chill guy.” 
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, for a moment there you almost got a hint of something from him. You weren’t quite sure as to what, but it almost felt like he was… jealous? But then he has to cower away and go back to stats… That was technically why he was sitting in your living room, but right now this seemed like the least important thing going on.
“What is it with you and chill? Does everything need to be chill? Why can’t you just be… normal?” 
He laughed at your query, “What if being chill is normal for some people?”  
You grabbed the pencil in front of you and tapped it on the table rhythmically in thought, “Chill people aren’t masters at stats. That’s just a fact.” 
Bambam’s face goes into fake shock, “really? Damn well, I guess that’s why you haven’t learned anything the last month that we’ve been doing this.”
It’s obvious that it was meant as a playful dig, to tease you, but Bambam feels his heart race when you simply frown in response instead of laugh. It was clear that he had gone too far. This was the thing he had been most worried about this entire time he had been tutoring you. 
He had heard from one of his brothers in Theta who knew a friend of yours that you felt embarrassed by being tutored by a frat guy – by him. Hearing that certainly didn’t make him feel good, but he tried his best to help you the last month or so. He didn’t want to do or say anything that could allude to “frat guy” behavior – so most of the time he tried to keep conversations statistics related. Part of him felt like it was because he was offended by your embarrassment, but another part of him felt like it was maybe because he wanted to impress you. He wanted to prove that he wasn’t the typical frat guy because you probably didn’t like that. 
But he had to admit… in certain ways, he was the typical frat guy and restricting that part of himself meant restricting segments of his personality. The teasing – that was apart of it. 
“Shit – y/n I’m sorry I didn’t actually mean it. I meant it more like-”
At his quick and panicked response, you burst out into a fit of giggles, “dude I can be chill too. I was just fucking with you. Now come on… let’s keep working, I want my prize.” 
Bambam lets out a sigh in relief. Maybe he had misjudged you, “so you do want a reward?” 
“Of course, I want a reward.”
He licked his lips in thought and you have to admit it’s hard not to stare, “okay what should we start with?” 
You began to tap the pencil on your chin instead of the table, thinking about what exactly it was you wanted. When you finally have your grand prize in mind, you figure it’s better to start small. 
“I don’t want to be charged cover at any future Theta Chi parties.” 
He looked at you with surprise written on his face, “you go to our parties?” 
You rolled your eyes at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, he can’t help but admire how cute you look when you do it, “of course. They’re the biggest parties on campus… why wouldn’t I go?” 
Bambam shrugged, “I just didn’t think you liked frat stuff…” drifting off he looks to see the confusion written on your face and he doesn’t know why, but for some reason, he feels the need to keep talking, “Unless it’s for Jaebeom.” Immediately he wants to punch himself in the face for his continual teasing.
You thought it was funny how he was stuck on the Jaebeom thing. You had just said his name as an example – something you already explained to Bambam – but for some reason, it seemed to bother him. Bambam was more your type than Jaebeom, but it would have been weird if you had brought him up as an example.
“What was that?” 
His voice causes your body to jolt up in surprise. Had he heard you? No way.
“Y/N what did you just say?” Bambam asked once again.
The second question regarding what you had just said sends you into a frenzy, considering he was the last person who had just said something based on your recollection. Therefore… he fucking heard you. 
“Did I say that out loud?” You asked embarrassed and judging on the look on Bambam’s face – you have your answer. 
You felt your mouth go dry, “I- shit… Bam I didn’t mean- Well I mean I did, but- Fuck I-” you cut off your stuttering with nervous laughter and you feel more awkward than you’ve probably ever felt in your adult life. 
Rather than saying anything, Bambam looks at you curiously. A hint of a smile appears on his face but soon disappears as if he’s thought of an idea or just something. Hopefully, an idea to get me out of this, you think to yourself. Instead, he scoots closer next to you on the floor and for a moment you have to remind yourself to exhale. 
“Instead of the cover as your reward… What about…” he begins, placing his right hand onto your thigh, “this? Is this okay?” If you had to keep your breathing in check just when he moved closer to you, then you felt like you were going to need to be resuscitated now. 
Rather than verbally answering, you nodded your head, afraid to open your mouth in case the wrong thing came out.
Keeping his hand placed firmly on your thigh, he asked you the next question, “Suppose X and Y are independent random variables. The variance of X is equal to 16; and the variance of Y is equal to 9. Let Z = X – Y. What is the standard deviation of Z?” 
It’s becoming harder to concentrate. All you can focus on is the placement of his hand on your thigh and when you don’t answer right away, he begins to move it up and down your leg. 
“Come on, I know you can do this one,” he said softly. 
You couldn’t believe that your tutoring session was now taking a sharp turn – a turn that you had to admit you were now craving – but Bambam was still expecting you to be focused enough to answer questions. You weren’t able to typically do it even when you didn’t have his hand on you. 
It’s almost as though you’re on autopilot as you put your pencil to paper and work out the problem. The only thing on your mind is the curiosity of what his next move will be if you answer him correctly. 
“5?” 
He gives you your answer by drifting his hand up your thigh until it sits at the top of your thigh, dangerously close to your core. You wonder if he can tell how damp you’ve become, even with the sweatpants you’re wearing. It was probably evident just by looking at your face. 
“A coin is tossed three times. What’s the probability that it lands on heads exactly one time?” 
This was becoming frustrating. How the fuck were you getting turned on by him asking you stats questions? You felt like your brain was about to explode with how completely mixed up it felt. The cause of your stress for the entire quarter was now the cause of you being turned on? Your mind was currently rewiring itself.
For this question, it takes you some time to focus enough to work it out and calculate. Bambam who is usually patient with you when you struggle, has instead been replaced with a much more impatient version of himself as he slips his hand up to the waistband of your sweatpants, delicately playing with the top to tease you, you suddenly wished you would have worn better underwear for what’s about to happen. If you could answer the question that is. 
Just as you feel as though you’ve come to the end of the problem, you feel him dip a single finger underneath the top of the band, rubbing it softly against your stomach. It causes your hand to slip up on the paper, drawing a line right through your problem. 
“What’s wrong?” He asked innocently, completely aware of what he was doing to you, “do you need help?” 
You shook your head in response, unable to say anything. It was becoming more and more difficult to even get your hand to move fluidly on the paper. It was instead starting to get more jagged. Your fives were beginning to look more like threes. When you’ve finally solved the problem, you find yourself pointing at the paper for Bambam to look at your answer. He laughed. 
“Correct again. You’re doing so well,” he murmured as he finally dips his hand beneath the band of your sweatpants and down to your panties. You sucked a deep breath in, waiting in anticipation for his next actions, feeling him so much closer to where you need him the most, but instead, his hand just rests there, over the material. 
Letting a very out of character whine escape your lips causes him to chuckle. “Do you think you can have your reward that fast? No, no,” he tutted, “you have to finish answering all the questions like a good girl.” 
You try so hard to remember the next question he asks, but he soon begins gently rubbing you through your panties and it makes you want to kill him for playing so dirty. How were you able to solve any problems when it felt like an actual ocean was forming in your underwear? You knew Bambam could feel it too with the way his gaze on you got even darker, one of his fingers wandering to the side of your panties, playing with the hem but not daring to slip underneath. 
What the fuck was the question? 
“Having trouble angel?” 
He doesn’t give you time to answer – even if he did you weren’t sure you’d be able to provide him with one – instead, he slips his hand underneath your panties until his fingers find your entrance, slowly stroking up and down. You let out a moan when he’s left his index finger on your clit, rubbing small circles around the bundle of nerves. 
“It can’t be that hard to remember a simple question. Is something distracting you?”
Another sigh of pleasure is released from you when he presses down a bit to place more pressure on your clit, “I’ll ask you one more time. You have to remember this time or you lose your reward, okay? Are you listening?” 
Nodding your head, he smiled, “The standard normal curve is symmetric about 0 and the total area under it is 1. True or False?” 
Bambam himself was losing his patience, he so badly wanted to bring you to your release and see how tight you get around his fingers, how much you ask him for it. He had to admit that wasn’t the original question he had asked you, but at this rate, he just wanted to ask you the easier questions so both of you could get what you wanted. 
“T-True?” You managed to stutter out.
“Doing so well for me,” he whispered into your ear at your response. The teasing had been so achingly painful that when he finally fully inserts his pointer finger you feel like a kid on Christmas. You feel as though you can finally let out the breath you had been holding in since he started the taunting. 
The pace he starts with is clearly another method to get you worked up – which you certainly are – but you also felt thankful that at least it was something compared to the nothing you were getting from him previously. When he curls his finger, hitting you in the spot that drives you crazy, you felt your body instinctively jerk forward in surprise. He had found it so fast and with such ease, you wondered if the two of you had down this before in another life.  
“Bam, I-” you begin, but as his thumb draws circles over your clit, you ultimately lose your train of thought and fall even closer into him, until your head is resting on his shoulder.
“There’s one more question left… Do you think you can handle it?” 
The whimper you let out sounds borderline inhumane and in any other situation you would be frustrated with yourself for giving in so quickly, but right now you didn’t care. All you needed was him to keep going – to really give you your reward. The noise is enough for him to dive into the last question and you feel like you’re gonna pass out at the way he begins to rhythmically tap your clit, his finger now going stagnant.
His eyes drift down to the textbook on the table, gazing through which questions on the page are still viable to be asked. After a moment he locks eyes with you, the tapping still consistent. 
For a moment he looks shy and despite his previous teasing, you feel your heart leap out of your chest in deep want and longing. It’s a weird feeling you have to admit, but somehow it feels just right. 
“What’s the probability of you going out on a date with me after this?” Bambam blushed when he asked you his query and for some reason, he feels so small being in front of you – asking this – despite his current position with his hand in between your legs. 
You, on the other hand, have no trouble answering this final question. The question that’ll get you your reward and perhaps something else entirely. 
“Without a doubt, 100% chance.” 
The smile that emerged on his face is so big, you take a picture of it in your mind, wanting to keep it safe and bottle it up to view later, a hundred times over. 
He slipped in another finger, watching your face as it contorts into even more pleasure, “there we go.” 
You felt a groan arise in your throat as soon as he began to pick up the original pace of his sole finger. With both of them curling and pumping in and out of you, you felt even more overwhelmed than before. Bambam smirked, taking in your tightly shut eyes, “Good?” Opening your eyes, you felt your climax right around the corner, only able to moan his name in response to his question. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, leaning in to place his lips on your own.
Somehow, the pace of his fingers only increased, practically fucking into you over and over, hitting your g-spot each time. Even though you were sat on the floor, already mostly leaning onto Bambam for support, you still felt as though you could melt into the floor. With a final few pumps that hit your sweet spot and his thumb still massaging your clit, you feel your walls tighten around his fingers. “That’s it, good girl,” he said against your lips.  
Soon you fall apart, feeling as though there’s no breath left in your body, your body falling practically limp at your release around Bambam’s fingers. He takes a moment to slip his hand out from between your legs and you don’t ignore the feeling you get in your core again when he slowly places his fingers in his mouth. 
You groaned, feeling like you were practically in a sedative state at how relaxed your release made you feel, “do you have to do that?” 
Bambam narrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “what do you mean?” 
“Be so damn seductive.” 
The two of you look at each other before bursting into laughter at your very serious confession. After a moment when it’s silent you look down at your lap to realize that somewhere during your encounter with Bambam, your sweatpants managed to slip down to the bottom of your thighs. 
“I should probably go get cleaned up…” 
Bambam coughed awkwardly and turned to his things on the coffee table, “yeah… I guess I should probably just get my stuff together too and get out of your hair.” 
Get out of your hair? Who the fuck says that Bam? He asked himself. 
You looked at him with confusion, “I thought you were taking me out? Remember? 100% chance? I mean… unless you didn’t mean it…” 
His eyes went big, “No!” he exclaimed, “I definitely meant it! I just didn’t know if maybe you said it in the moment and- Or I don’t maybe you did mean it- but also if you didn’t that’s cool. Just so you know I would have still given you your- uh reward if you had said no- Sorry I’m rambling. I ramble when I get nervous.” 
When he stops talking, he instantly avoids your gaze. This was the Bambam you wanted to see. This display of authenticity made you feel as though the curtain had finally been drawn. 
“I said it because it was true. The likeliness was 100%. Give me like 15 minutes and I’ll be ready to go,” just as you’re about to head to the stairs, you stop yourself and remember why the two of you were even here in the first place, “shit stats…” 
Instantly, Bambam shakes his head, “if you think we’re going to go back to probability, standard deviation, and bullshit right now after what just happened you are very mistaken. We’ve done enough… work for today.” 
Smiling, you nodded your head in confirmation and begin to go up the stairs to your room. Considering something, you find yourself stopping on the third stop, turning towards the living room where Bambam looks up at you with his head cocked to the side. 
“You picked easier questions towards the end on purpose, didn’t you?” 
He let out a laugh and grinned – another smile that you decided to file away in your memories, something that you figured might soon become a regular part of your life. 
“Let’s just say that I wanted to give you your reward as much as you wanted to have it.”
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s-fellows-art · 4 years ago
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Simplified tips on how to improve your art.
.putting under cut because its long but thats cause i explain these and not just list stuff. 
1)  Flip/mirror  your canvas when working. - it allows you see anatomy and other errors you may overlook. 
2) before uploading look at the image on a different screen or the next day. - this give you time away from it, and as tempting as it is to upload as soon as your done, if you wait  you will see stuff you can improve on and be able to look at it with “ fresh” eyes. 
3) Stop shading with black or grey scale colors- shading with inly these colors make the imAge look muddy, if you shade with a color that is a darker hue of the same color your adding shading to it one in the same tempters ( warm= R Y O cool = B G I V  on the Rainbow ) you get more vibrant art and you don’t muddy what your working on. 
4) Learn to grey scale BEFORE coloring as a draft p2- learning how to shade in black and white can help you identify lighting points and details. When digital painting simplifying something out to a grey scale can help you keep track of what your doing. 
5) Use the tools you have access too- References to learn anatomy , taking time to learn amniotomy will help you a lot in the long term, but doing everything off the top of your head your bond to get something wrong early on, or even later on in art.  Use the sharpen tool around highlights if your program offers it. It saves time. Also play with your filters and line art colors. These will ad detail to your work and takes less time. If you mess around with the brushes in your program and stuff before starting it will help you later on. Its not cheating professionals use it all the time. 
6) practice drawing random stuff- it teaches you the shapes and trains your hand ti make the strokes/motions needed for basically everything. Art studies can be very helpful. Even if it feels stupid drawing 500 eyes on a note pad, it helps. 
7) Simple is good, complex is chaos- over complex art is hard to look at because your not sure what to focus on so the areas you want the eye to go to is where you should focus your details rather then make every single little thing detailed. Another way to do this is to brighten the colors where you want the eye to go at first glance in an image, but make the other areas muted in color, or blurred slightly.  
8) Don’t be afraid to look up tutorials and take breaks if you get stuck - I personally only learned how to shade faces from watching makeup tutorials. And there is nothing shameful in not knowing how to do something and needing to look it up or ask, its how you learn you can just power you way through it all the time, and somethings your wasting your time if you do for something not worth it in the end run. Also the act if stepping back and away to go do something else is sometimes all you need, sometimes looking at the same file over and over again can be mentally exhausting. Take a break. Drink some water. Stretch your wrists. Look away from it for a while then come back. 
9) Stretch your wrists before working- save your self years if pain trust me. I regret not doing this. Also draw from your shoulder not your wrist unless detailing, less stress on your arm and more precision. 
10) Use different line thicknesses - i find using thicker lines for areas that touch the outer parts of your drawing or more important areas, and using thinner for detailing adds a bit of detail and quality to your work even if the line art isn’t clean. Inner face  parts (other then the top bracket of the eyes), lines between fingers, lines marking clothing folds, and things like that should be done in thinner lines then eyebrows and what not. 
Next two some will role your eyes at but honestly makes a huge difference, even if you got to force it at first. Its hard to break a bad habit.
11) don’t look for flaws in your work, look for what you like about it,- if your constantly pointing out what is wring with what you are doing your not gonna go any where, bare minimum go “ okay im not too happy about this, lets see how we can improve it” instead if “ this looks like garbage I hate it”. If you stay in the mentality of I don’t like this , your never gonna be happy with what your making or improve because subconsciously your telling you self you can’t. This slight change in mind set of trying to find at least one thing you like will make a big difference in the long run because slowly you will be moving towards finding a style your comfortable with and going from there, you will be finding things you
12) don’t compare you self to other artist- its one thing to want to take influence in your fave artist, its another to constantly out yourself down because your not like them. Everyone art started as shit. Everyone. We all were that crappy 1 year old can barely hold a pen person at one point. like learning how to read and write or ride a bike....  No one starts as a perfect artists, its something you learn, so comparing your self to people around you is not gonna help you improve and putting yourself down just because your not perfect yet. Even if its something as little as “im happy I finally finished this” is better then “I wish i was like _”. You are slowly moving towards a goal, some people just move quicker then others because they learn different techniques, instead if putting energy into hating everything you do why not try to learn how the people you like the art of got there by learning some techniques your self? 
13) Ignore the notes enjoy the journey-  Regardless , you making art is amazing in itself . Its something only you have made. There may be other things like it but its not like how you did. Your unique and honestly ignore the notes, if your constantly pushing yourself based off of numbers, your gonna burn your self out and give your self impossible expectations to try to complete. Everyone has different tasted and are not always gonna like what you do the same way, if at all, there is nothing wrong with what you made you simply just can’ please everyone and its not your job to. The notes are a bonus, not a goal, you don’t have to try to compete for them the only person you have to create for for is you. Do what ever the hell you want and if people like it, great, if they don’, then they like a different cup of tea then yours, don’s make it bad tea.  Edit 1 as i thought of more : also the reason your sketch looks better then your line art is because your line art is too neet. If you use difrent thicknesses in lines (thicker for outter areas and important areas) and thinner for areas with more movment (bottom crese of eyes or outline of area around puple inner part of mouth clothing inner parts or what ever u feelis needed) it will look better because it will show your brush strokes which is what makes your sketch look good. -You can also add a 3d effect woth the red and blue outlines on areas that are not the central focus of the peice. Blurring has the same sort of effect to where it forces the eye onto the clearer area if the photo and makes it more visually intresting. Having this effect everywhere however can make stuff hard to focus on and diffcult to look at so only keep it on non focus points (most common focus point is the face so wouldnt put it there) .
Idk how helpful these will be but they made a big diff in my progress over the past year. The last bunch made a significant difference for me, though it was really hard to force myself into that mentality. And i still skip doing some of these in occasion ill admit but i hope this helps none the less. 
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kimnjss · 4 years ago
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[ waking up hard ] requested.
@jaiuneamesolitaiire​: (bc iM still not over sleep humping Tae). he wakes up with a hard on.
warnings: dry humping, (slight) somnophilia, cum in pants, suggested penetrative sex, heavy petting, (slight) exhibitionism, mentions of drunk sex; angry sex, some stuff happens in a car.
A/N: requests for reactions are now open and without commissions. if you want to send a reaction request in, simply send me an ask!
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NAMJOON
It has been weeks since you've properly seen your boyfriend. What with the comeback just around the corner, it really called for long hours at the studio or days spent in the practice room. He was always coming home beat, too tired to hold a conversation let alone have sex. Simply sliding into bed behind you, mumbling a goodnight before drifting off into sleep only to wake up early the next morning to repeat the routine again.
You missed him, of course, but you knew that this was what you signed up for when deciding to be the girlfriend of the leader of the World's biggest boy band. And you knew that he loved what he did, so who were you to stand in the way. It was just going to take some getting used to waking up in an empty bed, having breakfast alone.
This morning was a little different, though. Like normal, the sun shined through your flimsy shades, brushing against your face and filling your bedroom with warmth. You moved to stretch, preparing yourself to fix yourself some coffee, body stilling from the strong hold around your waist. All at once taking in the light breaths tickling the back of your neck.
Was today his day off or had he slept in late? You couldn't bring yourself to figure out the answer, quickly becoming overwhelmed with happiness. He was here and he was with you and holding you and snoring, getting the rest that he deserved. Who were you to ruin that by reminding him of the schedule he could be missing.
No matter the trouble he could get in, he needed to rest. He was perfectly fine here holding you close, leg over your thigh and hands on your stomach and hard dick pressed against your ass... wait. You tried to be subtle with the shift of your hips, only wanting to ensure that what you were feeling was actually what it was.
The sound of the groan that fell from his lips, followed by the upward thrust of his hips were answer enough. Murmurs words fell from his lips and you couldn't help but wonder what he was dreaming of... you, maybe?
It had been so long since he touched you last, since you felt the delicious stretch of having him deep inside of you. So naturally, you did what any sexually frustrated girlfriend of a pop star would do and pushed back. Slowly wiggling against him until his covered cock was wedged right against the crack of your ass.
Joon was quickly shifting behind you, arms tightening around your waist as a whisper of a moan fell from his lips. He was blinking awake behind you, pressing himself harder against you. “What time is it?” His words came out groggy and whimpered, but your attention was so far from what he was saying, no your main focus was the stiffness between his legs.
With a shrug you were turning in his arms, hand finding the curve of his neck, taking in his sleepy eyes before capturing his soft lips into a loving kiss. “I'm sure you have enough time to rest a bit,” Words mumbled against his mouth, hands traveling from his neck down the front of his shirt. “Or something more,” Teeth biting into your lower lip as you looked up at him, hands reaching down to toy with the elastic of his shorts.
Namjoon grinned down at you, eyebrow arching as he leaned down to press his lips against yours fully. “Hm, you're right. I think I could make some time for that,” He spoke on a chuckle, hands inching up the front of your tank, as he moved his body closer. 
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JIN
He was always good about waiting for you when you were working late. Oftentimes falling asleep on Yoongi's couch while he waited for the two of you to be finished in the studio. No matter how often you told him it was fine, that he didn't need to hang around every night during this collab, he didn't mind it. Liked watching you work and liked seeing the look of satisfaction on your face after every session.
Tonight was no different. Yoongi sat in front of his laptop, putting the working adlib vocals into the track while you stood in the studio booth, headphones over your ear while you recorded whatever notes you thought would fit. Jin fast asleep on the couch, laid on his back, his arm over his stomach as quiet snores fell from his lips.
“Let's add some whoas for echo,” Yoongi's voice broke through the speakers and you were instantly nodding, vocalizing the tune in different ways, watching the look on Yoongi's face shift as he listened.
Yoongi was such a serious worker which was why you tried so hard to make sure you were doing a good job. Never arguing, trusting his artistic vision. You learned a lot from working with him and hoped that you could be as talented as he was soon.
He was nodding when he was satisfied, hand lifting to stop you. “I think that should be good for tonight. Thanks, Yn.” Reaching up, you pulled the headphones from your ears just as Yoongi was lifting himself from where he sat.
A small grin spread across his lips as he glanced down at you. “Why don't you get him tucked into a real bed, I'll see you tomorrow.” He was gesturing to your boyfriend with a laugh, a sound that you echoed.
“He's so nice, always waiting.” You commented. “He really likes you,” Yoongi grinned, reaching his hand to ruffle your hair, pulling a grin onto your lips. He was turning to lift his laptop from the desk, making his way to the door. “You did great today, we're almost done,” One last compliment before he was making his way out of the room.
With bounced steps you were heading over to Jin's sleeping body, a single leg slinging around his waist until you were perched up on his lap; straddling him. Palms finding his covered chest, you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose.
A gesture that was intended to be innocent, a cute way to wake up your ever so dotting boyfriend, until you felt it. Twitching to life against your thigh as his nose scrunched from the feeling of your lips. Was he hard? This whole time? Or since you got on his lap?
Something entirely different, something more sultry fueled your motions as you leaned back down, lips finding the length of his neck. Open mouthed kisses pressed against his skin as you began to rock your hips against his, whimpered moans dying against his skin as you shifted to feel him better.
“Oh fuck,” You hissed, feeling him brush against your clit. The unintentionally loud words hitting his ears and making him stir. With heavy blinks, Jin's vision was quickly focusing on the bouncing girl on top of him. Your eyes screwed shut, lips biting into your lower lip as you rolled your hips.
His large hand landed on your hips, forcing your eyes to snap open as your movements stilled. “Don't stop on my accord,” He mumbled with a grin, lifting himself up into a seated position, mouth finding where your jaw met your neck.
Too stunned to speak, arousal buzzing through your veins, nothing on your mind but your nearing release. Jin picked up on that, all too aware with the way you got when you were turned on. “Keep going, I want to watch you make yourself cum,” His words hushed, cheeks tinting from the sound of them.
You were grinning, hands finding his shoulders as you began to move against him again, breathy moans slipping past your lips as he lifted his hips to meet yours.
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YOONGI
Like most nights, Yoongi had fallen asleep with his head on your chest. A leg between yours and fingers hanging loosely off the hem of your shirt. You laid on your back, hand in his hair as your chest rose and fell. It was his favorite position to fall asleep in, part of you were convinced it had everything to do with his slight obsession with your breasts, but with how cute he looked asleep like this, you couldn't bring yourself to argue.
Not like your argument would hold much ground when it came to him. Whatever Yoongi wanted, he got and he made sure to make it well known around your small circle of friends or the millions of fans that were constantly screaming his name. You fell into both categories which made it that much harder to say no to him.
Sleeping like this, though, was more comfortable than you thought it would be. You quickly found yourself yearning for the weight of his head on your chest and an unbearable emptiness rising when he was not here to snuggle you. You just slept better this way.
So your annoyance was understood when you were being pulled from your peaceful slumber by a pair of wandering hands. At first, you were sure that it was all in your head, your sleepy mind playing tricks on you as you were being pulled from your slumber.
But there were things that your mind never seemed to get right and the exact feeling of Yoongi's cock was one of them. Pressed firmly against your thigh as hand slid underneath your shirt, inching higher and higher until he was able to grasp your bare breasts. Arousal pooled between your legs from the sound that left his lips, the breathy groan that had you squeezing your thighs together.
Quick to snap your eyes shut as his head lifted to check if you were awake, his face twisting with confusion but it quickly being forgotten as he turned his attention back to the task at hand. Skilled fingers tugging and pinching at your hardening nipple as he began to buck his hips, rubbing his hard cock against the outside of your thigh.
“I know you're awake,” He spoke in that morning voice that always seemed to turn you to putty, but because you were such a committed actress you kept your eyes screwed shut, curious to see how far he'd go without interruption. “Not saying anything?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.
Yoongi was ripping his hand from your chest, the action shocking you but not enough to stir you; you knew him well enough to know what he was up to. The same smirk still playing on his lips, he reached his hand between your legs, easily wiggling his fingers under the lace of your panties.
“You're so wet,” He whined out, pushing his hips forward to create some friction for his pulsing cock. Fingers completely bypassing your wanting clit to stroke your damp folds, teasing your entrance but careful not to push his fingers inside. Without thought, you were spreading your legs for him, silently begging that he gave you more than he was willing.
“Want something?” He taunted, fingers sliding up to find your clit. He was moving his hips as he would while fucking you, groaning at the friction and creating small quick circles against the sensitive bud.
Your back was automatically arching, hips rounding forward as you tried to feel more of him. “Yoongi, please.” Eyes sliding open just in time to see the smirk on his lips grow into a smile.
All at once he was pulling his fingers from inside of you, hands working to push sweats from his hips. “I have thirty minutes before Hoseok starts collecting for practice,” He grinned, reaching for your waist to lift your body onto his. “And I would really like to watch you fuck yourself on my cock,” 
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HOSEOK
It wasn't the first time Namjoon was calling you to come collect your drunk boyfriend, although you wish it were. Hoseok was a lot of things, talented, artistic, comforting... but someone that could hold their liquor was not one of them.
He wasn't one of those wild drunks that went out and vandalized shit or cheated or anything like that, more of an emotional drunk that would loudly express his love for the people around him before passing out on someone's couch.
Most nights, it would be cool for him to spend the night, sleep it off and head home in the morning. But ever since Joon got a new girl in the house, you found yourself making the thirty minute drive more often than not to come collect the love of your life because his best friend wanted the house empty for him and the love of his life.
An annoying desire on Joon's part, never understood why the drinking couldn't just happen at your place since everyone knew how Hoseok got after a few beers. It would just save you the drive. And having to see Namjoon who never seemed to warm up to you no matter how much Hoseok promised he would.
Met with the signature bored expression and eye roll as he pulled the door open, Namjoon waved you inside. “He's on the couch. You need to be quiet, Hua is already asleep,” He pinned you with that disciplinary glare he was always pulling on the guys. As if you cared about that witch's sleeping habits.
Of course, she never gave you a reason to believe that she was a witch, but someone that would willingly date Kim Namjoon? Yeah, they couldn't be that great in character.
Joon led you all the way to the living room where Hoseok laid sprawled out on the couch, shirt riding up to reveal his well worked on abs and hair sticking up in all directions. “I'm going to bed, make sure to lock the door when you leave,” Nodding, halfheartedly, you waited until Namjoon was making his way up the steps before making your way toward your boyfriend.
“Wake up,” You mumbled, crouching to poke your finger into his side. “Wake up, baby. Time to go,” A second attempt with a harder poke when he didn't as much as stir on the first go around.
A grumbled response fell from his lips, body shifting before he was settling himself again. “Hoseok,” You tried, louder this time, shaking at his shoulder. Slowly, his eyes began to blink open, a sleepy smile taking over his features.
“I'm dreaming of my pretty girlfriend,” He announced to no one in particular, lazy hand lifting to brush his fingers against your cheek. From the dazed look in his eyes, you could pretty easily piece together that he was still drunk. It didn't matter, he could sleep it off in the car.
“You're not dreaming, baby. Let's go home where you can sleep comfortably,” You tried again when his eyes began to shut, hand reaching to push at his hip. You were not expecting to have your small hand grasped in his large on, him lifting it to his lips to press soft kisses against your knuckles. “I'm hard,”
Loud laughs left his lips at the end of his words, his eyes opening to take in your expression that was quickly shifting into one of intrigue. “You want to do it?” He followed your silence. “Right here, on Namjoon's couch,” That dopey grin of his was growing, lips wrapping around your finger leaving a wet kiss against it.
If anyone understood the distaste you had for Namjoon it would be Hoseok, easily picked up on the way you did things just to spite him. Having sex on his couch? Would definitely fall in that category. But at the same time you weren't completely insane.
“What if he comes down?” You uselessly wondered, already lifting yourself from your crouched position in front of him, maneuvering his body until you were able to comfortably sit on his lap. His hard cock instantly meshing against your covered slit.
“So what if he comes down?” He countered with a smirk and that was enough to convince you, get you to push down against him, a hushed moan falling from your lips from the friction. You could feel Hoseok's grin on your lips as he reached his hands up to grasp your ass, fingers gripping the waistband of your leggings and slowly pulling them down.
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JIMIN
Jimin always made you feel loved. Heard. Seen. Special. He knew you through and through and he loved you with every fiber of his being, there was never any confusion with where you stood with him.
Which was why you were riddled with surprise when visiting him today. He knew that you were coming and even if he hadn't, you'd never guess he'd act the way that he was acting right now. Openly flirting with the pretty blonde that was supposed to stand cameo in Yoongi's music video. The same pretty blonde that spent more time with him that you could ever imagine, what with the fact that she was their stylist.
Now let there be no question, you trusted Jimin with your life. He never once gave you a reason not to, it was just that he was standing a little too close for comfort, laughing a little too hard at something that couldn't be that funny, allowing too many suggestive strokes of the shoulder to go unchecked.
Your disgust must've been written all over your features, Jin moving to stand beside you with a plastic coffee cup in hand. He handed the chilled drink over to you, a small smile spreading across his features.
“Why don't you just tell him to knock it off?” If his best friend with no romantic tie to him whatsoever was noticing the blatant flirting, there was no way all of this was just in your head, right?
He was flirting. Right in front of your face. Didn't even bother to check if you came to say hi, because he was too busy talking up this leggy bitch. And what was he even doing here? It wasn't like he was a part of the shoot? Just came to say hi and decided that a simple word took hours to deliver.
So you charged over, gave him a piece of your mind in front of everybody, despite the tint in his cheeks at the fact that he had just been caught you let him have it. He deserved it for acting the way that he had.
Now, you knew Jimin would never cheat on you... it just wasn't in his DNA, but that didn't mean you'd readily excuse flirting, allowing this hussy to think she even had the chance to steal him away. What did he think this was?
Jimin was rushing behind you after the dramatic way you splashed your iced drink in his face, effectively ruining his white t-shirt. You ignored his attempts to explain while entering the car, ignored his apologies the entire way home, ignored his promise that you were the only girl he had eyes on.
Banished him to the couch when he tried to climb into bed beside you. No way would you share a bed with the likes of him. You needed a moment to cool down, get your feelings in order before you were ready to wrap yourself in him again.
But that was hours ago. Now after 2AM and your king sized bed was feeling a little too roomy. You missed the rumble against your back as deep breaths let his lips while he slept, the strength of his arms around your waist. Wide awake with half the mind to go downstairs and propose sharing the couch.
Your pride was too strong for that, so you just laid there, staring at the ceiling as the minutes ticked by. Thinking, wondering if you had overreacted back there. If the drink in the face was a bit too much, no matter how much you wanted to do it since seeing it so often on TV.
Almost positive you had thought yourself into delusion with the sound of your bedroom door opening. The quiet, “Baby?” filling the room in your boyfriend's voice easing your worries. Jimin took careful steps toward the bed, “Are you awake?”
Nodding, you turned your head to the side to see him. He was quick to start up his apologies against, regret written all over his features. A soft smile was quickly spreading over your face, head shaking as you waved him over.
“It's fine, I'm not even upset anymore.” Jimin was quick rushing toward the bed, quickly sliding beside you. His arms wrapping around your hips as he planted soft kisses against the side of your face. “You know I love you so much, right?”
“I know,” Your head moved at his words, accepting the warm kisses with a large smile. He was quick with maneuvering his body onto yours, shifting your legs to either side of his hips as he pushed forward, covered crotch pressed against your panties.
“And you know you're so sexy when you're upset,” He pushed forward again, hardened cock somehow bumping against your clit perfectly. A soft moan fell from your lips, one that he was quickly swallowing with his own. “You want to?” His hips were moving against yours slowly, hands mapping out the sides of your body.
A quiet giggle was leaving your lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you nodded, reaching down to the hem of his shirt, slowly peeling the fabric from his body.
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TAEHYUNG
Apparently, dating Taehyung meant more than just having him as your boyfriend. He was something of a package deal and that package included going on impromptu road trips with his friends and not offering up a single complaint.
Now you loved road trips as much as the next man living out of his car, but you had your heart on spending this weekend alone with Tae, at your home, where pants were optional. Not squished in a too small car, sat on his lap with his arm as a makeshift seat belt. That couldn't be safe.
You kept a brave face, though. Smiled brightly each time if he asked if you were good, not wanting to let on this was at the bottom of your list of ways to spend the very little time you two had together
Taehyung loved his friends and he loved you, so in turned he'd love it if you got along with his friends. Which you did, for the most part. They weren't your best friends in the world or even your first pick, but you could definitely see why Taehyung liked them so much.
They were cool guys that had a lot of opinions on things that weren't really any of their business, for example your relationship with the second youngest of the group. Oh, if you had a dime for each time Hoseok weighed in on one of your disagreements, the amount of times you rolled your eyes when Jimin expressed how he'd handle a situation.
But this weekend wasn't about you, it was about Taehyung and making him happy. So you were going to endure all the annoyance, suppress all the eye rolls until Sunday night where you two were finally alone again.
Fast asleep with his head resting on your back, fingers clasped together as he held you close to him. Jungkook had taken the spot beside him, head leaning against the window as he tried to get some rest too. Namjoon on the other side, headphones pressed in his ear as he typed away on his phone.
Jimin and Hoseok sat in the singular seats placed in the middle. Jimin argued profusely with Yoongi in the front sleep, while Hoseok navigated for Jin who tried to drive through the heavy rain.
Tae shifted underneath you, grip tightening on your waist as his hips rose. A mumbled sentence left his lips as he rolled his hips. Eyes widening at the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your thigh.
See!? This was exactly why the two of you needed to be alone. That way you'd be able to do something in this moment, instead of trying to ignore the growing dampness with each rock of his hips. “Baby...” He mumbled out quiet enough to not be heard over the arguing men.
Taehyung pushed up into you, hands moving to grasp your hips and you began to wonder if he was actually asleep. Although, there was no way a conscious Taehyung would try anything like this with his friends so close. He had to be asleep.
You could feel his breathing shifting with the way his hips sped up, fistfuls of your shirt being grasped under his palm, ensuing a fire at the pit of your belly effectively melting away all restraint.
Subtly, you pushed back against him, teeth cutting into your lip to trap any moans threatening to slip. There was no telling how worked up whatever was going in his mind had gotten him, but all it took was a few rolls of your hips to push him over the edge. A hushed curse fell from his lips as his body tightened, wetness bleeding through his pants and meeting your legging covered bottom.
Fuck. You definitely didn't think that through. Taehyung flinching awake from the sensitivity of your butt still pressed against his sticky cock. “Move, babe.” He groaned, not fully aware of his surroundings yet.
“She can't,” Namjoon spoke evenly, not even bothering to look up from his phone. Your head snapped in his direction with wide eyes, confusion taking over Taehyung's features as he gently shoved you from his lap, only to catch sight of the wet spot on his upper thigh, the thin wet lines that connected your ass to him.
“Oh, uh... shit, fuck.” He stammered, hands reaching for your hips again to pull your body back down onto him.
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JUNGKOOK
If anyone deserved twelve hours of sleep it was your hard working boyfriend. With his obsession with perfection, he constantly overworked himself to rework every last thing he did until he was satisfied, or until he was being forced away by a deadline.
You loved that about him, his desire, drive to be the best. Loved to see how focused he got and that small smile that would shine when he got close to the end he was hoping for. That didn't mean he didn't mean you were willing to let him work himself to the bone trying to achieve it.
Which was why you texted his management after he had slept through his first alarm, letting them know that he didn't feel well and would be resting for the day. Of course, they were understanding, wanting their golden boy to get his rest so he would be at his best when they needed him to be.
If only Jungkook understood that the world wouldn't implode if he took a day off. That the next day would be business as usual and he'd more likely reach his goal faster now that his body was all well rested.
How lucky he was to have you in his life.
In the time that he slept, you were able to eat breakfast, shower, shave, wash your hair, go to the store and make lunch. You ate quietly in the kitchen, putting away the ingredients you had left out just in case he woke up while you were eating.
Now you sat beside him in bed, back pressed against the headboard as you flipped through your latest read. Recommended by Namjoon and filled with large words that you constantly found yourself having to look up. But other than that, it was a really good read.
His teammates, friends had taken a real liking to you. Constantly congratulating the boy on the lasting relationship that he had with you. You couldn't help but feel prideful at the praise, knowing that it was hard for you two to get to where you were now. A lot of trust was needed when dating a worldly loved pop star.
That was a learned trait that took a while for you to perfect. Jungkook, though, ever gave you a reason not to trust. Took care of you like no one else, loved you like his life depended on it and you loved him right back, just the same or even more. Wanted to be with him for as long as possible.
Your attention was being pulled from the book at the feeling of the bed dipping. Jungkook laid flat on his back, bare chest raising and falling as quiet snores left his parted lips. He must be waking up, the loud snores that usually left his lips slowly disappearing. Planning to finish this chapter before going down to whip him up something to eat, you turned your attention back to the words on the page.
Three sentences in there was a tug at your wrist, gentle but filled with purpose. You let him drag your palm toward his body, until you were feeling his hardened cock underneath it. Eyes snapping up to his face, only allowed a second to take in his smirk before he was sitting up, leaning to press open mouthed kisses against your shoulder.
“Where's your shirt?” He mumbled, fingers brushing against the clasp of your bra while his hand moved yours against his. “I got chili powder on it, I-,” Words cut off by the way his cock jumped from the flex of your fingers.
“You called the boys, right?” Despite his worry, he still worked on the clasp of your bra, grinning in triumph at the snap, wiggling it out of the way enough so he could grasp your breast. You nodded, full focus now on stroking him through his shorts.
“Such a perfect girlfriend,” Jungkook pulled your body back against his chest, fingers teasing your quickly hardening clit as his hand left yours, sliding down the length of your body between your legs. “How could I ever thank you?”
Tilting your head to look up at him, a smirk spread across your features. Hand slipping down the front of his shorts, closing around his heavy length. You watched the way his eyes fluttered from the way you pumped him, slowly you leaned up to press your lips against his. “I think you could come up with a few ways,” You grinned, while pulling away.
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lotus0kid · 4 years ago
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OUaT: Finding Fate
((For the 2020 Rumbelle Secret Santa, using @dorkone's prompt "castle flirting vs. storybrooke flirting”. Hope you like it!))
Regina racks up enemies like it’s the latest fashion.  At least she doesn’t task Rumpelstiltskin with conjuring her wardrobe as well as resolving her current vendetta.  Someday he’ll enjoy making her understand that she was never more than a means to an end for him.  Until then, he sits at his wheel and ponders how to make things difficult for a certain mermaid.
He nearly jumps off his stool when the doors to the hall fly open and a voice that has no business sounding so cheerful within the gloom of the Dark Castle rings out, “I did it!” Belle strides straight for him, a broad smile on her face and a silver platter balanced on her palm.  “I knew I’d get it eventually.  I wasn’t sifting the flour enough.  Thank the gods I figured it out- this batch is the last of the almond stuff!”
As she circles around to stand at his side Rumpelstiltskin catches the scent of something baked and… minty?  He stops the wheel and inquires, “What strange act have you committed in the kitchens now?”
Belle rolls her eyes at him, “If you wanted a cook you should’ve dealt for one.  But you got me, and I’ve just made a breakthrough in my culinary practice.  Here, try one.”
The platter swings toward him, revealing a number of bite-sized macarons tinted an alarming green shade.  The smell isn’t actually bad, now that he’s a had a minute to get used to it, but he curls a lip anyway.  “No thank you, dearie.  I have no need for… whatever this is.”
“‘Whatever this is’ is a delicacy from my village.  We made them every midwinter.  I thought I’d never get to have them again, but with a little experimentation and perseverance, you can hardly even taste the difference!”
Rumpelstiltskin blinks up at her, then returns his attention to the wheel.  “Right, well, congratulations then.”
Belle lets out a soft snort of indignation before saying, “Won’t you try one?  Here, I’ll go first.”  She picks up one of her creations and pops the whole thing in her mouth.  The instant her pink lips close on it her eyes slip shut and she moans in pleasure.
Rumpelstiltskin locks his gaze on the wood grain of his wheel, the only thing that might save him from the in all ways unwelcome heat rushing through his body.  This is made more difficult when something green bobs into the lower right corner of his vision.
“O-pen u-up…” Belle sing-songs as he resists the urge to lean into the fresh, bright scent of the treat. When did I summon mint oil to the cupboard?  “You know food tastes better when it’s shared, just try one.”
In this second, he snatches for his seer’s sight in hopes of some guidance, receiving silence in response. His own imagination offers the possibility of slapping her hand away- perhaps throw her totally off balance and send the lovely tray of treats clattering to the floor.  The thought of the cold glare she would cast on his back sends a chill through him.  Perhaps not. So, he could go the other way. Do as told, and open up, let her set the macaron on his tongue.  He could even close his lips quickly enough to catch her fingertips, and taste her skin along with the delicate crunch and zing of mint.  
Rumpelstiltskin shakes his head to clear these imaginings- one far too cold, the other far too hot. Belle’s hand retreats.  “All right, never mind then,” she begins, but he reaches out and cups his palm under hers, taking the macaron with his other hand and bringing it to his mouth.
He grinds through it with brisk efficiency.  “A triumph, dearie,” he announces after swallowing, “Well done.”
She smiles, nods.  “Thank you.  It’s good to know I can feed you something.  I don’t care what you say about being sustained by magic, it’s just not healthy to not eat.”
The briefest accidental glance in Belle’s direction reveals a look of warm concern beaming down on him and in that instant a thick, heavy sob swells up in Rumpelstiltskin’s chest, tightens his throat, and makes his eyes burn.  She’s right.  He lets the magic feed him, and it feeds on him in turn.  Sometimes he must call up a gallery of memories of Bae in order to keep the darkness from consuming him.  Once or twice, he’s had trouble recalling the exact shape of his son’s face, which causes frigid fear to blast through him.
Remembering that fear, joined with the horrific likelihood that he might start blubbering in front of Belle, drives him to his feet, and he utters pardons a second before whisking himself off to his tower.
Belle is of course the problem, he decides while pacing stolidly and aimlessly and sighing away the ache in his chest.  He swore an oath to love no one as long as Bae is lost to him.  But she’s here, and she is…  That’s not to say he actually…  It’s his old spinner’s heart, the foolish thing.  It still hasn’t learned- the people he loves, they leave.  He needs to show it what comes of entertaining silly little hopes.  He must look ahead, and see how Belle will free herself from him.  He’ll be calm then.
This is easier said than done.  As proven moments ago in the hall, the seer’s sight is finnicky at best, coming and going as it pleases.  And when he can grab hold of it, it sometimes rattles through more possibilities than Rumpelstiltskin’s mostly human mind can comprehend.  But perhaps he can channel it, focus it in one direction.  Indeed, his focus is clear- it’s Belle’s future he seeks.
He shuts his eyes and extends his awareness to find her walking back to the kitchens, and so takes the opportunity to transport himself into her room and pluck a strand of hair from her pillow.  This he carries back to his tower, then flicks through a dense tome of spells on a desk until he comes to a powerful divination spell.  With his eyes screwed shut as he mutters the words that will drag his seer’s sight to heel, he does not notice a hair from his own head come loose and drift down to join Belle’s in his palm.  But as unremarkable days of caretaker duties unspool within his mind, a mysterious golden haze drifts through, and he feels time speed up to a blur.
He tries to haul back on imaginary reins- he has no interest in zooming all the way to Belle’s eventual death.  Slowly his awareness settles on one point in the future.
The first surprise is that he isn’t a ghostly spectator in this random moment to come.  He feels himself present in the space.  Looking down, he finds himself wearing, not his usual silk and leather, but rather loose-fitting wool trousers matched with a jacket and a shirt fastened by a simple row of buttons.  His only silk is a thin strip tied around his neck, discretely folded under the shirt collar.
His second surprise are his hands.  They appear as those of an ordinary man, a state which is anything but ordinary.  His right wraps comfortably around a gold-handled cane- in this peculiar vision he’s aware of his maimed ankle as a distant stiffness.  His left hand holds the bow and neck of a violin.  He doesn’t have much time to study the instrument before the sounds of an opening door and a ringing bell come from beyond a curtain hanging in the doorway of the room he occupies, which appears to be the storage space of a small shop of curiosities.
After a moment, the curtain is pulled back to admit his third and biggest surprise- Belle, carrying what appears to be a sack made of paper and wearing a skirt far shorter than anything Rumpelstiltskin’s ever seen on a woman of her station.  She doesn’t seem at all bothered by this, smiling wide as her eyes fall to the violin.  “Unearth something interesting?” she asks before setting down the sack on a small table nearby.  “You might want to wait until after lunch to tell me about it.  Ruby said Madame Mayor was snapping at everyone when she got coffee this morning, so we may not have long to eat.”
None of that makes sense to Rumpelstiltskin- or, at least, the Rumpelstiltskin of the present.  The Rumpelstiltskin to come replies with ease while his past counterpart observes from within, “If she requires another lesson in patience, I’m happy to provide it.  Come have a look at this.”
She comes to stand before him as he holds out the violin.  Its body is decorated with wood inlays depicting two people in profile with their arms outstretched.  Magic curls away from their hands, meeting at the strings.  “Lovely.  And powerful, I suppose?” she inquires with a raised brow.
“Versatile, more than anything.  Play a certain tune, achieve a certain magical effect, assuming you play well. Shall I?”  Rumpelstiltskin lets the cane fall against his hip and transfers the bow to his right hand, setting it on the strings but pausing there with his gaze on Belle.
She nibbles at her lower lip, but soon says with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes, “Why not?”
“Very well,” Rumpelstiltskin says with a grin of his own.  He closes his eyes and searches the enchantments laid upon the violin, and finds something that might actually be familiar.  An old tune his Aunt Iph used to play for Aunt Im.  The melody slowly emerges as he draws the bow along the strings. 
It’s not long before he hears a soft gasp and then a bright giggle.  Belle’s hands fall on his shoulders and he opens his eyes to take her in as she floats about an arm’s length off the floor.  Light shining through a nearby window gleams every part of her it touches.  He maintains the tempo and volume of the song, which keeps her from drifting any higher. After a moment’s uncertainty, she lifts her hands, swaying and bobbing slightly to the beat, turning a slow circle in the air.  Rumpelstiltskin can’t say when he’s seen anything more beautiful, and his heart melts with love.
When she faces him again her hands return to his shoulders.  Beaming down on him, she murmurs, “That’s the tragedy of musicians- they don’t get to dance.”
Her brow furrows slightly and her hold on him tightens, and he actually feels the magic he’s emitting flow through her back into him, settling in his feet as a lightness that almost tickles.  Then he’s rising, rising up to meet her.  Belle’s arms slide around his neck as the distance continues to close between them.  Her lips brush his and in that instant there’s a blinding flash of gold light behind his eyes and the vision snaps out of existence and Rumpelstiltskin drops hard against the desk, knocking the tome of spells into a mess of fluttering pages on the floor.
He grips the edge of the desk, feet and lips still tingling, trying to understand what just happened. Because it can’t be the future, what he saw.  It’s not possible.  Him and Belle, together, really quite unmistakably in love.  True love.  No, it cannot be.  Anyway, in that world it didn’t seem instantly apparent where Bae was, and therefore it was no world Rumpelstiltskin wants to live in.  Not at all.
He crouches down to pick up and turn the tome over and check for damage.  The spell on the page it falls open to is something to do with happy dreams.  Ah, clearly he misread earlier and cast this instead of a divination spell.  Of course.  He should try again.  Ensure he’s on the right page, and figure out what fate of Belle’s will take her away.
He definitely means to.  It’s just that a half-finished project catches his attention, and he forgets all about it.  And when it crosses his mind again, the hint of an old tune he only just remembered wanders through his mind, and he decides he doesn’t need to know.  Not yet.
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cheryllcher · 5 years ago
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Marinette: Guardian of the Miraculous
part 2
i have too many wips but im writing something else again :)) (woes of a writer/artist/just creators don’t @ me here)
so my brain clearly isn’t prioritising so here’s a really very long lil one shot based on this post i found by @aly4son and it’s pretty cute and fluffy. i decided to make some changes and add some stuff here as well becuz i love fluff hope it’s okayy. this took pretty long becuz i had to figure out how to put everything together ://
and as it stand it is getting way too long so im gonna have to put up a second part whoops.
“Hmm… Add a little of this…, a drop of water from the Dragon’s Tears Fountain… Oh, don’t forget the edible glitter…”
Marinette was adding different ingredients to her pot, swirling her wooden spoon at the same time. She was preparing for her final test before she was officially declared the new Guardian of the Miraculous. However, she needed a break from all the formulas and power-up functions. So, she decided to continue playing around with the concoction she’s been working on for weeks, hoping to complete her experiment that afternoon. She knew she could just finish it after her test, but she could feel that she’s so close, and was eager to observe the results.
Ever since she started learning the recipes of the power-up potions, she wondered what other power ups she could try making, if it were possible. She’s been trying over and over again, playing around with different kinds of ingredients. She’d even brought some items from the bakery, if only to give it a little taste and colour. (And also to test a theory of whether it can be used to make power-up potions. It did work out in the end, but only some foods.) She remembered Chat mentioning that Plagg hated those power-up cheese (said it tasted like “liquidy goo you humans take when you’re sick”) and decided to mess around with flavours.
“And… Done! Tikki? Up for another round of taste testing? I think I’ve got it this time!”
“Of course, Marinette! I’m curious though, why did you add the glitter?”
“It’s for flair, for the potion I’m brewing. If this works, you’ll see why I wanted glitter in there.” Marinette threw in a wink, and dipped a little spoon inside the pink, glittery liquid. Tikki floated towards it and took a sniff, noting the scent of champagne coming from it. I wonder if kwamis ever get drunk, didn’t think we’d try that before in all the time we spent in the miracle box.
She quicked sipped the delicious brew, and immediately felt a tingling sensation.
“It’s happening! It worked!”
In a flash of pink, Tikki transformed, her usual self now a sparkling crystal-like texture, her centre spot and tail (?) now dazzling diamonds.
“Wow… Well, what power up is this?”
“It’s called the Elegant power up, ooooooor Exquisite. Haven’t really decided on the name yet. It’s just a little fun power-up I came up with, you know, like a fancy dress transformation.”
“Cool! I’m sure Kaalki would love to try this power-up. It’s glorious.” Tikki laughed at her own little joke.
Oh, how she wished she could snap a photo of Tikki, but kwamis don’t show up on cameras. It was a great accomplishment, and she was really proud of herself. Specially created with an original outfit designed by her, a sketch of the design slowly added into the mixture while it boils. (Another absurd theory that flitted through her mind.) Never thought this crazy idea would work but here we are.
“Alright, I’m going to try transforming. Ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be, Marinette!”
“Elegant Tikki! Spots on!”
The familiar feeling of transforming washed over Marinette, yet it feels completely different at the same time. The swirls of pink magic disappeared to show a red cocktail dress with exquisite black sequins scattered on silk, the fabric a darker shade of red than what she usually wore. Extremely fancy indeed.
A Mandarin collar wrapped around her neck with a mini brooch which had a symbol engraved into it, a representation of her Chinese heritage and the pattern associated with the Miraculous. The top half had black polka dots, embodying her super-persona’s namesake, along with a matching mask and gloves, both of which had intricate embroidery. Her hair was pulled up into a stylish updo, braids twisted to form a crown above her head. Her red heels has little ladybugs on them, just like the one in her hair. Just how she imagined it.
“Wow, this is even better than what i would have done!” Marinette twirled around, noticing that the outfit has a litte glittery shine to it. Now she wish she would get to wear this someday; she felt like a princess! (Well, it was pretty funny because Chat would always call her civilian self that.)
In the midst of admiring her work, Master Fu walked into the room. His eyes widened at the sight in front of him, and Marinette shrieked, quickly transforming back to her usual self.
“Ah, sorry Master! I was messing around with an idea I had and I completed it just now. Don’t worry, I was practicing potions before that.”
“I’m not mad, Marinette. On the contrary, I’m actually very pleased that you have managed a feat that even my masters were unable to achieve back when I was in training with them. Perhaps I could show it to them when I return for a visit.
“In the mean time, how about you use this power-up for your Guardian officiating ceremony. It is something to celebrate after all and you deserve it.”
Marinette didn’t know what to say. She just thanked the master profusely, grateful for the opportunity to try out her new invention. She didn’t bother trying to refuse because she knows that there would still be one no matter what she says. Master Fu simply waved it off with a chuckle.
“Now, would you like to have your final test today or prefer to still wait for tomorrow? I feel that you are ready.”
School was still a priority, being in senior year and all. Marinette could only work on designs during her free time, and with Hawkmoth around those are scarce. Marinette would sometimes sketch out ideas besides finishing her homework, for fear if forgetting them. She absolutely hated it when an idea struck while she was busy fighting an akuma.
Good thing was, she didn’t need to worry about measurements. The miraculous will ensure that everyone’s suits and dresses would fit them to a t. So all she had to do was make sure that the designs represented each of the holders perfectly.
Tikki wholeheartedly agreed that Marinette deserved to be celebrated as the new Guardian, she hadn’t had a holder who was a Guardian since millennias ago. She was positively buzzing with exhilaration, moves animated with so much zest Marinette was afraid she might explode.
Chat was the first person she told about becoming a Guardian. He was surprised, after all he wasn’t aware of her receiving training, but that was short-lived as he immediately tackled Ladybug in a humongous bear hug for her sensational achievement. He even said, and I quote, “My, I’m honoured to be graced with the presence of the great and powerful Guardian of the Miraculous Box,” topped off with an exaggerated bow and a kiss to the knuckles.
He was also ecstatic about the prospect of a new transformation. Ladybug told him to assure Plagg that she had added a different flavour to it, and will add some cheese to his batch on top of infusing it in his beloved camembert. That night, Plagg denied purring loudly in his sleep. (“You were dreaming, Adrien. Hallucinating!”)
Three months of constant sketching and resketching, coloring in and retracing it for the potion, Marinette finally got the designs out. She asked the kwamis for their opinions on the designs, (after a mini celebration of their own, obviously.) and they gave their input. Some even made flavour requests, though they still kept the champagne in there as they loved it and it made the power-up more fancy.
Then it’s another week of measuring, mixing, and carefully infusing the correct batches into the different snacks. She almost put Wayzz’s herbal tea flavoured potion into Pollen’s honey comb, if not for Tikki and Wayzz’s interference. Oh, the look of horror on Pollen’s face would send Plagg laughing with tears.
With everything ready, it’s time to paaaaaaaaartay! (Clearly Xuppu was here :) )
With the help of Chat Noir, they managed to get the miraculouses to the respective holders’ rooms before they arrived home from school. She handwrote all the dissolving letters containing the information, taking care to use her cursive. Those online lessons really paid off, even Tikki couldn’t recognise that she was the one who wrote it.
Ladybug hid behind a rooftop as she watched Max open read the letter, coming to the conclusion that everyone else is doing the same. She hoped that she had made her instructions clear enough, considering how… excited some of her classmates could be.
Everyone was confused when they found a box in their rooms, realising soon after that it was a miraculous box. Alya and Chloe immediately opened their boxes, paying no mind to the paper that were below.
“Oh, finally! Ladybug is giving the Miraculous to me! It’s about time.”
“Trixx! Does Ladybug need me?” An extremely loud gasp, “Oh my gosh, is she here? Do I get to hold on to my miraculous?”
The kwamis questioned had to clarify that no, Ladybug was not nearby as there is no emergency, no, it was only for a few short hours, and no again, the miraculous was technically not theirs but “belonged” to the Guardian for safekeeping unless they are permanent holders. They were only temporary holders who are called upon when their help were needed.
(Ladybug and Master Fu had them make sure they got it through their heads after getting irritated when some people kept begging for it again. And also to inform those whose identities were compromised that it was their last time using theirs.)
“Please read the letter before you do anything, Alya.”
“It contains some important information that you really must know before you call upon me, my queen.”
All holders read through the letter:
“Dear [Name],
I hope this letter finds you well. I’m to be officiated as the new Guardian of the Miraculous, and it would really make my happy if you could join me tonight. Along with your miraculous, you will find a small snack for your kwamis. It is to be consumed strictly before transforming, so do not waste it as I’ve only provided a small piece.
You will transform tonight at 4am, going going to the address listed below. Don’t worry, the kwami will be able to help you with that. I know it is late but this is to ensure no reporters or your parents will see you sneak out. Hawkmoth rarely comes out at night anyway, so that’s a bonus.
Chat Noir and I are greatful for your contributions as the heroes of Paris, so we would also like this to be a celebration of thanks. Hope to see you there!
Signed, Ladybug
Address: 53 Rue de Corentin, Petit Fortune Hôtel 3rd floor”
The letters dissolved with a flame of green sparkles, kwamis reaffirming the chosens that they know the address and will help them navigate.
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thechekhov · 6 years ago
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Im sorry if this have been asked before but how did you get your art style whats the story behind it(?)
I think I actually have answered this type of question, but I can’t find where I put it, so let’s have a do-over!
This beautiful story starts with some confessions, which are not news to anyone who follows me:
CHEKHOV HATES COLORING THINGS!
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I do. I was a terrible and strange child and coloring books annoyed me more than they entertained me. I always preferred drawing only in black and white. 
BUUUUT as I grew older and started sharing my art online, I realized that a PROPER Artist has to COLOR THINGS. So I was like ‘yes, hum. I shall do that, because I want to be taken seriously.’
This was known as my ‘i have no artstyle’ stage. From…. my initial introduction to art through about 2014 I fluctuated between several types of art, and never really settled into any defining features. I was still trying to grasp things like anatomy and shading at this point, and most of my coloring attempts came from trying to copy what other artists were doing (which is not a bad way to learn!)
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I think I really wanted to find something, but the fact that I wasn’t finding anything naturally really frustrated me.
Until one day in 2014 - and I can pinpoint this with fairly good accuracy - I decided:
“You know what. Fuck it. I’m just gonna make the most INKY piece of art ever. It’s gonna be super lazy.”
And I sat down and just DREW - for the sake of it feeling good, instead of to create something specific. I just kinda did everything ONLY how I liked it, instead of seeking something that would ‘look cool’. 
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And I drew this pikachu.
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And I think I just remember sitting back and thinking “this is like, the easiest shit ever, because I don’t have to color anything”. But it still looked really good, and I really liked it.
That was my catalyst. 
I started drawing more - I started drawing in ONLY black. I used only one brush. I used only one layer. I stopped trying to use what I thought was ‘proper’ and instead just started throwing down really heavy, really thick lineart and just drawing whatever.
And I ended up creating a lot of stuff I really liked!
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And a lot of this came from a place of legitimately ENJOYING not only the final product but just the PROCESS of drawing.
I think for a style that is supposed to be your own, that’s a really important thing:
 That PROCESS of CREATING the art has to be enjoyable for you. 
Maybe it’s sometimes annoying, maybe it takes a long time, but it should bring you some sort of happiness to create the art that you do.
And honestly, having FUN creating my art is what allowed me to draw more, and spend more energy on things that I COULD improve, like anatomy, like posing, like cleaner lineart. 
Now that I’ve taken my time and settled into my style, I actually do use a lot of color, because I’ve had time to iron out my own style and roll around in it and now I can focus on other things and slowly make them better. 
So I guess you could summarize this as:
Practicing many different things as an artist is good for you... but doing stuff you enjoy is ALSO good for you, because it stretches your other muscle - your imagination!
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stormcrawler75 · 6 years ago
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A Stitch a Day Keeps The Bad Thoughts Away Part 4/Final Part
Summary: Virgil has given his gifts to the Light Sides at last. There’s just one more person he has to give a gift to.
Warnings: Self-deprecating thoughts
Virgil fidgeted with his hands nervously. He stood in the Common’s kitchen area and was internally debating if his plan was actually a good idea. The weight in his pocket seemed to grow heavier with each second he stalled. He could do this, he knew he could do this. He reached back and put his hand in his back pocket, rubbing at the yarn in an attempt to find some courage.
Things had improved in the weeks since the Side’s family meeting.
Patton, Roman, and Logan had divvied up the box full of Virgil’s gifts with Virgil there to point out which gift was meant for which Side. He couldn’t believe just how much he had knitted over the years. 
Virgil had felt like sinking in the subconscious and never coming back when Patton pulled out the blue, snot and tear covered scarf that Virgil had knitted before he had been accepted. But Patton had just given Virgil a sad and shaky smile and patted his cheek. 
“Don’t worry, kiddo. It just needs to be popped in the washer and it’ll be good as new.” He had promised. “The worst thing that could happen is that it needs to be hand washed. It’s not ruined though.”
Things had gone back to normal, well, as normal as their little ragtag family could be. With the notable exception that the other’s outfit now usually included something that Virgil had knitted. 
Virgil still could hardly believe how much they really liked the gifts. He had almost cried when Logan had walked downstairs a few mornings after the meeting wearing the dark blue knitted tie that Virgil had knitted for him when Thomas was twenty. He had started crying when Roman came downstairs after him with his usual red sash replaced with his new bright golden one.
The others had tried to comfort him but Virgil had just waved them off grinning. “I’m not sad. Just, I guess they’re happy tears.” Logan had been confused at the notion of “happy tears” but Patton had understood and pulled Virgil into a tight hug.
Patton had approached him about a week afterwards with a pair of knitting needles and asked if Virgil could teach him how to knit. Virgil had been floored and asked Patton if he was sure. Patton had been adamant and insisted that he wanted to learn from Virgil.
“Besides, can you imagine if I get good enough!?” Patton had gushed. “The two of us can knit a quilt big enough that all four of us can cuddle under it!”  Virgil had hidden a smile behind a hand and agreed.
Roman had led him aside one day and gave him a box, about the size of the one that had all of the gifts Virgil had knitted in it. When he had opened the box, Virgil had found about a hundred or so different colour balls of yarn.
“I thought that you might want some new colours.” Roman had explained, a mix of embarrassed and pleased. “I made sure that there’s a bunch of different shades in there. And there’s even a few balls that have a whole bunch of different colours in them! So, you can knit more stuff, if you want to of course!” Roman probably had a lot more to say but Virgil had interrupted him by dropping the box and diving into Roman’s arms for a hug.
That had been two weeks ago. And in those two weeks, Virgil had been working on a special project.
He had worked hard on it. He had spent time researching the pattern he had wanted to use by going looking at the gifts he had given the others and spent the same amount of time choosing the right different colours of yarn he wanted to use. 
Virgil had asked Logan if he could knit this project in his room instead of his own. He didn’t want to fall into the same trap he had before. Logan had agreed and asked if, in return, he could watch. Virgil had accepted and had come into Logan’s room every day for two days and spent about an hour knitting his special project as Logan sat on the bed with him and watched curiously, asking questions every so often.
And now he was done. Virgil was done with his special project and was wondering if this was actually something he should do. What if he didn’t like it? It was pretty stupid after all. Maybe he should just go back up to his room and forget all about it.
Virgil shook his head and gripped the object in his back pocket. He had worked on this and had gone over it critically. There were no mistakes, the colours were nice, not any of Virgil’s favourites but still nice, and it was the right size. Logan had looked over the gift and assured Virgil that the receiver was going to love the gift.
He had shown Patton and Roman too just to make sure. Roman had gushed over the stitching and colours. Patton had gathered Virgil in a hug and said that he was so proud of him for not giving up on knitting and that the person he was going to give the gift to was going to love it.
He could do this. He could do this.
Virgil straightened his back just like Roman did before he left on dangerous quests and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. Both Patton and Thomas sat on the Commons’ couch. Thomas was waving his hands around animatedly, obviously telling a story. Patton was leaning against the arm of the couch with a content smile on his face. 
Patton glanced up and grinned when he saw Virgil standing there. He raised his eyebrow questioningly and practically beamed when Virgil gave a short and tense nod. He placed a hand on Thomas’ arm.
“I need to go upstairs for just a sec. I’ll be back in a bit.” He promised. Thomas nodded and relaxed back into the couch. Patton stood up and bounced out of the room, shooting Virgil a thumbs up on the way.
Virgil took a deep breath and made his way over to Thomas. He kept repeating over and over in his head, ‘He’ll like it, he won’t be mad. He’ll like it, he won’t be mad.’
Thomas was hitting his hands on his thighs to some unheard rhythm and did a double take when he caught sight of Virgil. “Hey!” He turned in his seat and beamed at Virgil. “Where have you been all day? I haven’t seen you since yesterday!”
Virgil joined Thomas on the couch. “Been busy.” He said nonchalantly. The object in his project seemed even heavier now that he was closer to the person it was meant for. “I’ve been working on a project.”
Thomas leant forward and bumped Virgil’s shoulder with his own. “Does this have anything to do with all the new knitted stuff the others have been wearing?” He smiled gently when Virgil blanched. Had someone told Thomas what he had been planning? “Yeah, Patton told me what happened. I’m glad that things are all cleared up.” He grabbed Virgil’s arm and squeezed it comfortingly. “How are you doing?”
Virgil smiled and shrugged. “Pretty alright. It’s, nice, to know that they like my stuff.” He ducked his head. “I honestly feel pretty stupid though. For making it such a big deal.”
Thomas shook Virgil’s arm gently. “C’mon, none of that.” He chided. “It was a big deal and something that you guys needed to talk about. Don’t feel stupid.” Thomas leant down and caught Virgil’s eyes. Two small grins appeared on both of their faces.
Virgil huffed out a laugh and pulled away from Thomas. Butterflies were flying around in his stomach. But, they were the good type of butterflies. He was nervous and scared (what if Thomas didn’t like it?) but also excited (what if Thomas liked it?).
He pushed his bangs back and moved his gaze up to the ceiling. “Speaking of gifts.” He glanced back down at Thomas and managed to catch the sight of the grin growing and an excited gleam shine in his eyes.
“Virgil,” Thomas said, drawing out Virgil’s name. “Did you knit me something?”
Virgil smirked and shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, you won’t be able to wear it outside the Mindscape so I guess it’s sorta useless but I thought you might like it.” He reached inside his back pocket and pulled out what he had been working on and tossed it at Thomas’ chest.
Thomas caught it, barely, and held it up to his face. It was a red and yellow striped beanie. Virgil had got the idea from Joan’s beanie which Thomas liked to admire from time to time. 
Virgil looked away. The butterflies in his gut were going crazy now. What if Thomas didn’t like it? “I wanted to knit something for you like I did the others. Should’ve asked you to buy some yarn in the real world so you could actually wear it outside the Mindscape but then you would’ve known and I wanted it to be a surprise.” He waved his hands nervously. “So, yeah. Knitted this for you and you can’t wear it anywhere. Sor-”
Virgil yelped and tensed when Thomas pulled him into a hug. “What are you sorry for?! I love it!” Thomas cried. Virgil blinked and slowly brought his arms up to hug Thomas back. 
“You, you do?”
Thomas nodded. He was bouncing up and down excitedly on the couch, making Virgil bounce with him. “Are you kidding?” He pulled back and plopped the beanie on his head. He adjusted it and tucked his hair back into it. When he was finished, Thomas spread his hands. “I love it! What do you think? Does it look good on me?”
The red and yellow of the beanie clashed terribly against the purple of Thomas’ hair that poked out. It was also a little too big on hung down a little too low in the back. Virgil grinned and laughed.
“It looks amazing on you.” He said truthfully. Thomas laughed and ran his hands over the beanie lovingly. He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to lose his words halfway through. He pulled Virgil back into a hug, tucking Virgil underneath his chin. 
Virgil relaxed and let loose a little sigh. Thomas cuddled Virgil closer to him and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Thank you, Virgil.” He whispered. He hesitated before adding “I love you so much. You know that, right Virge?”
Virgil snorted and nodded. “Course I do, Moron. Love you too.”
taglist
@punsterterry
@iris-sanders-athena
@heck-im-lost
@sanders-trash-4ever
@tiredfluid
@sevenatee
@i-really-dig-the-purple
@detroit-become-pan
@shadowjag
@phlying-squirrel
@ab-artist
@lil-storm-cloud
@dr-gloom
@grape-soda-city-kid
@karmels-stuff
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jamiethebeeart · 2 years ago
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I don't know if that's weird to say but your art improved SO MUCH lately!! Their proportions are so nice now and your art in general is just so pretty
i - you - me - i - gimme a moment
i was thinking about the proportions part of this for a couple hours and just realized you called my art pretty im -
ok. this message has lived rent free in my head for days, DAYS ANON. Just, asdfghjkl. you, you have my love and appreciation and just 🥺🥺🥺😭😭💞💙💙💙💙
pretty?!?!?!!??!?! ✨ p r e t t y ✨
(excuse me while i ramble about art below:)
pretty???? literally have a post sitting in my drafts as i cry over my style and how much i've struggled with feeling like it's not attractive enough to make people follow???? (my art accts have always had abysmal engagement much less follower count no matter the platform) every like makes me happy and every single tag/comment on my stuff makes me fucking lose it i treasure those 🥺
i'm very aware my technical progress is slow but i've been trying to use references more (or more often take reference pictures to use) and i've felt more comfortable with certain proportions recently so???? someone noticing??? just,,,, excuse me while i lay down and cry.
overall i tend to go through periods of drawing a lot and then life happens and i don't draw for a while, which definitely makes progress, uuuuuh, weird lmao
i've also starting figuring out that i'm not really a colorist and that i'd rather sketch/line things out. i'm slowly learning to pick better color palettes but how to shade/highlight remains a struggle 🙃 i feel like i change it up every single piece, and i've yet to find something i vibe with in terms of both progress and outcome.
can't believe i've been "consistenly" drawing for about 9 years and i'm still only figuring out basics (within the context of stylized, non-realistic work..... i'm pretty damn good at pencil/charcoal still lifes but that's about as much "professional teaching" i've had lmao i'm a ceramicist at heart truly and have never taken a gen art class, but i did teach it so 🤷 , which is possibly MORE annoying. i know the knowledge very well, but my application is still lacking /sobs in lack of time to practice and my inability to do studies more often than twice a year/ )
ANYWAYS not weird at all to say that!!!! you noticed improvement that being worked on!!! like, asdfgh, you saw the results of someone's hard work and that's always a nice thing
i'm still fucking losing it over "pretty" anon anon anon im???? pretty???????? my stuff???? "so pretty" even i'm,,,, crying
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destiny-islanders · 7 years ago
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I absolutely love your artwork and I would like to know how you got into digital art and if the transition from pencil and paper to the artpad was hard, Im trying to get into digital art myself however nothing feels right and it's frustrating. So I'm curious if you had the same problem too. Also I thought your reaction to all of us telling you all the soras you forgot to draw was hilarious but still I'm sad over Anti form not being in it because it's one of my favs. It was just a prank bro
Thank you!
And yeah, the shift from drawing traditionally to drawing digitally has a bit of a learning curve! I’ve got some tips below, for anyone who’s interested:
It’s tricky at first to put the stylus down on the tablet and get it to go where you want it to.Your instinct is to look down to see what you’re drawing, but your focus needs to be on the screen of your computer! Hahahaha. 
To anyone having trouble with that– be patient and give yourself time to adjust! Your tablet should come with software that helps you calibrate it, where you have to touch certain points of the tablet with your stylus so that it can be more responsive. Boot up your art program and run a calibration test of your own! Practice being able to place your lines and shapes more precisely. Soon, it’ll get to the point that you won’t even think about the fact that you’re using a tablet; you’ll be so focused on the screen that everything feels natural. It just takes time. You’ll get there!
(Another good habit to pick up with digital art is to make quick strokes with your pen instead of slowly drawing lines. 
You can’t be quite as precise with your lines this way, but one of the best parts of digital drawing is the undo button! And you can always erase if you make a line too long.)
Once you’ve gotten the hang of using your tablet, the next step is to acquaint yourself with your art program. When you’re just getting started, I guarantee that there will be a bunch of features your program has that you don’t know about. (I’ve been using Photoshop for a year, and I learn new stuff about it all the time!) Look up a video on YouTube about your art program. The artist using it will be able to show you how to use basic functions and offer tips about other features you may not have noticed!
If you can, work with a resolution of 300 ppi
Otherwise, your art will look blurry online (thanks to websites’ formatting) or in print
Use and abuse layers! 
You can sketch out a drawing as many times as you like, then draw the line-art on top, and then delete or hide the sketch lines as if they never happened! 
For detailed doodles, I actually have multiple line-art layers. That way I can draw clean lines over each other and not have to worry about roughing those lines up when I erase them. This is especially useful when you’re drawing hair over faces or seams/patterns on clothing
When you color, add the color layers UNDERNEATH the line-art layer so that you can stay inside the lines.
Naming layers (e.g. “Line-Art,” “Red,” “Blue,” etc.) might want to be something you want to make a habit of
SAVE OFTEN! Omg I can’t tell you how many times my art program crashed and I lost hours of work. Please make saving often a habit or you will be like me and you will cry.
Basic short-cuts that will save your life:
Crtl + S (To save your work and your sanity.)
(Crtl + Shift + S is To Save As… I use this to duplicate doodles. It’s useful when I’m drawing comic strips, so I can have the characters already drawn and colored for reference)
Ctrl + Shift + Clicking a point on the canvas (To automatically jump to the layer that the point you clicked is on)
Ctrl + 0 (To zoom out so that your entire canvas fits inside the screen)
Ctrl + Z (To undo)
Ctrl + Y (To redo)
Ctrl + A (To select the entire LAYER THAT YOU ARE CURRENTLY WORKING ON– either to erase, move, etc.)
Crtl + C (To copy)
Ctrl + V (To paste)
Ctrl + E (In Photoshop at least, this will let you merge a layer with the one beneath it so they’re on the same one)
Ctrl + - or + (To zoom in/out)
Most programs have their own unique short-cuts, too! Be sure to look them up. They’ll save you a bunch of time.
Play around with color!
These days, I hardly ever use black or gray. Instead, I use shades of purple, blue, or red
Not just with coloring, but with line-art! Try drawing something with purple lines! Or blue! You’ll probably like how it looks.
That’s not to say that using black and gray should be off-limits! I’ve seen some artists discourage people from using black, and I disagree with that. Nothing should be off-limits!
Explore your program’s blending modes
Once you’re done with a piece, try putting a soft light or overlay layer on top. The color you set this layer to will help balance out the piece and set a certain mood (e.g. warm lighting, cool lighting, etc.)
These blending modes can also help when you’re drawing a piece with “effects”– like things that glow
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attempted-writing · 7 years ago
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a day well spent
fandom: Homestuck setting: Earth C summary: Dave and Karkat spend the day together warnings: food, under age drinkin(?), a tonne of fluff pairings: davekat word counter: 3715 author notes: my second fic, sorry it took so long. korina is a kind of wood and i thought it would fit as a name for a background character. also, thanks to @ejusticeonthenet for helping me name the story
A gentle voice softly sounded in the bedroom as Dave woke up his boyfriend. Karkat slowly opened an eye as he saw sunlight drip though the crack between the curtains before burying his head in the fluff of the bed again. “MORNIN DAVE” a dry voice came from somewhere between the sheets. “mornin? Dude, its 1:35” the troll now sat up in bed and got distracted for a moment. He knew his boyfriend sat next to him on the bed but he didn’t count on him being that close to him and it left him flustered for a moment. After feeling himself go red in the face he said “SO? ITS NOT LIKE THER’S SOMETHING HAPPENING TODAY” Dave looked at him with a sly grin after seeing him blush like that. “eh, I thought “the weather ‘s awesome, let’s go have fun time with the dude I love most” but if you’re not up for it I just might have to ask Dirk” Karkat sighed and as he turned to his side he answered “5 more minutes” “heh, sure, but don’t forget that I’m knight of time” the only answer he got was a murmur from the sheets that sounded a bit like fuck off strider. “I’ll have your “breakfast” ready in a bit” Dave responded teasingly.
True to his word the sleepy troll came down the stairs a couple of minutes later. The smell of freshly fried egg wafted from the kitchen to the living room. Dave had started to learn how to cook after the dust settled. He had asked john for lessons who taught him how to make a couple of dishes, one of which was how to fry an egg. After that he and Karkat ate eggs for breakfast for a week straight because “he needed to practice”. Truth be told, he did get quite good at it. With a little smile Karkat walked into the kitchen “SMELLS GOOD, MAN” Dave looked up from the pan and said “thanks, honey”. Karkat quietly giggled “HEH, YOU NEVER CALL ME HONEY”. “oh no, I just needed the honey for a sec” Dave said with a teasing smirk “NICE SAFE… HONEY”.
After a healthy breakfast the two left their house and headed for the park in the centre of town. As they walked they talked, about the house, about their friends, the party Rose and Kanaya are throwing next week and other small talk until they arrived at a bench in the park. The bench was in a beautiful spot, under the canopy of a big old oak tree that stood behind it and with a view of a small river that slowly flowed between the fields and tree clusters. it was busy with a lot of people swimming, sun-bathing, children playing and couples picnicking. “WHY IS IT SO FUCKING HOT” Karkat said as he wiped the sweat of his forehead “ITS ALMOST LIKE IM BACK ON ALTERNIA” Dave looked at him through his old and trusty pair of shades. Ever since they arrived on earth C he had been taking them off more often. When that started happening Rose praised him to high heavens for gaining enough confidence to do so, but on an day as sunny as this one he gladly made an exception. “well it’s a good thing I talked you out of wearing that thick fucking sweater you initially insisted on wearing” he said without a hint of seriousness “HEY, THAT THING WAS VERRY COMFY ON THAT GODAMND SPACE ROCK, OK. WE CANT ALL-…” Karkat had started yelling like he usually did until he looked at Dave who just stared at him with an expression that told Karkat “it’s a joke, fucking chill”. To give his boyfriend this look Dave had taken of his sunglasses and was now holding them in his hand. “OK, OK, ILL CALM DOWN” “thanks dude, people were staring for a sec” embarrass Karkat looked around and saw no one even glancing there way. “OK, HAHA, VERRY FUNNY” the troll said looking at his boyfriend with a face of annoyance as he playfully punched him in the shoulder, who only reacted by giving him a playful and teasing giggle. Dave was still holding his shades in his hand and Karkat noticed that. “HE DAVE, CAN I ASK YOU SOMETHING?” he asked, Dave looked at him with a questioning look “yeah sure dude, what’s up?” “WELL… I WAS… WONDERING…” he started and Dave interrupted him as he stopped after one word for three times in a row “dude, whatever it is, it won’t be awkward unless you make it” Karkat looked at the ground for a sec, looked his boyfriend straight in the eye and asked “CAN I TRY ON YOUR SUNGLASSES”. Dave fell into a fit of laughter leaving Karkat as awkward as he made it “hehe, sure man, but hehe, why was that such a weird question” Dave asked still a bit shaky with giggles as he hands him the sunglasses. “WELL, I KNOW HOW IMPORTAND THEY ARE TO YOU, WITH THEM BEING A GIFT FROM JOHN AND HAVING WORN THEM THROUGHOUT THE GAME AND STUFF” he said as he put the glasses on his nose. Dave looked at Karkat and something was off. “THIS IS WONDERFULL, NOW I GET WHY YOU USED TO WEAR EM ALL THE DAMNED TIME” Karkat said with glee on his face… “wait, you’ve never worn sunglasses?” “EEH… NO… IT WAS THE TYPE OF STUFF ONLY BLUEBLOODS COULD AFFORD AND DURING THE THREE YEARS ON THE METEOR YOU ALWAYS WORE YOURS AND EQUIUS’ ARE ALL GROSS AND SWEATY AND BROKEN AND AFTER THAT I DIDN’T DARE PUT YOURS ON WHEN YOU WERNT LOOKING…” “aww babe” Dave said and Karkat looked at him with annoyance (Dave knew babe was his least favourite thing to be called and thus he called him that occasionally to “get his goat” as Rose put it). “Can I have em back now?” Dave asked after letting Karkat enjoy the thing for a bit. “SURE” Karkat answered with a smile and proceeded to not give the glasses back… “so, will you give em now” Dave said with an acted tone of losing patience in his voice “OH, FINE” Karkat answered annoyed as he handed the pair back to Dave “they didn’t really suit you anyway” Dave said when cleaning the lenses on his shirt “BULLSHIT, I LOOKED WONDERFULL” “no, not really”. Now properly annoyed with his companion Karkat raised his voice and said “FINE, LET ME TAKE A SLEFIE WITH THE THINGS ON AND SEND IT TO KANAYA, SHE’LL BACK ME UP ON THIS” Dave saw how determent he was and said “fine, but I keep em until she answers, if she agrees with you, they’re yours for the rest of the day” Karkat looked kind of shocked at Dave almost like he didn’t expect it to be this easy, or him to let him have something that was so valuable to him even if it was only for a certain amount of time. He eventually muttered something that sounded agreeing enough and Dave gave him the glasses. Karkat quickly ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it look a bit better, put the glasses on his nose and took a selfie. “good, can I have em back now” Dave asked. “HMM, NO THAT’S NO GOOD” Karkat said to himself loud enough for Dave to understand, and he snapped another selfie, and then another, and another and that went on for a couple minutes. “do you need me to take a pic?” Dave said annoyed at this point. “OH FINE, THIS ONE WILL HAVE TO DO” Karkat said to himself, send the pic to Kanaya and as he went to give Dave the glasses his phone buzzed. It was the reaction from their fashion savvy friend. “Oh Dear Lord, No, The Shape Of Those Glasses Don’t Fit Your Face At All. With Your Face Shape You Would Be Better Off With Something More Square” those were the first sentences from the message but Kanaya didn’t stop there, she went on about, colour and materials and a whole heap of fashion related info. Karkat was kind of taken aback by it. Sure, he liked clear answers that didn’t beat around the bush and that this pair wasn’t the ideal fit for him but it still left him with a bit disappointed, and Dave saw that. “guess she said no?” “YEAH… HERE ARE YOUR GLASSES BACK” Dave took the aviators and put them back were they always had been. After a bit of silence he asked “what did she write” Karkat took his phone back out and started reading the message Kanaya had sent. “ok, let’s go” Dave said as he got up from the bench. “GO WHERE” Karkat asked as his boyfriend took two steps towards the main path. The boy turned around and with a smile so cute Karkat’s heart skipped a beat answered “to get you a bitchin pair of shades, of course”.
The two walked hand in hand to the end of the park were they found a small shop selling news papers, ice creams, sun-block and other things one might want for a relaxing time at the park. The two stood in front of one of the racks with sunglasses and started looking for something that would fit Kanaya’s description. After a minute or so they narrowed it down to three. A pair of fake black wayfarers, a pair that was half plastic with a faux tortoise shell look and half metal, and a pair of rectangular see-through with mirroring glasses. “WHICH DO YOU LIKE” the crabby boy asked and his companion answered “well not those, that’s for damn sure” he spoke as he pointed at the see through  with mirroring glasses. “WHY NOT THOSE?” “Couse every time I look at you I don’t wanna be reminded of my own fuckin face. I’ve seen enough Daves for a lifetime” he added with a grin. “WELL OK, NOT THOSE I GUESS” “how about those” Dave said wile pointing at the half plastic model. Karkat put them on and looked at Dave “they work I guess” he said with a tone in his voice that sounded like he wasn’t sold on the them. Karkat looked at the little mirror above the rack. “OH HELL NO, I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING TOOL” Karkat said maybe just a little bit too loud. “guess that only leaves one, huh” “YEAH, I GUESS” the two agreed. Karkat put the wayfarer copy on his nose and looked at the mirror and then at Dave and they both agreed  again and went to the checkout. “these please” Dave said handing the shop keep the glasses. “ah, yes, these sell like hot cakes” the man said to just start some banter with customers “they sell so well, a new shipping arrived this morning”. “oh ok, anything interesting with that shipment?” Dave asked politely. He was still kind of new to the “polite banter at the till” thing due to bro’s lousy attempt at raising a kid. After they arrived on earth C Rose and Kanaya had taken him clothing shopping a couple of times and after he was very rude to the personnel in the first shop they went to, the two girls gave him the speech of a lifetime. “oh yes, of course” the man answered enthusiastically “you see, the colours are always the first to go, so that’s what the biggest part of it is” now Dave moved closer to the man behind the counter and whispered something to him and the man nodded “yes I have those, I’ll be right back sir” and he walked off through a door. “WHAT DID YOU ASK” Karkat said to Dave who with a tease in his voice answered “you’ll see”. After a moment the man came back “sorry it took so long, they were all the way at the bottom of the box” he said as he put a pair of sunnies on the counter similar to those Dave just gave him but this one had a bright red frame. Karkat looked at the glasses and then to Dave… and back to the glasses and now to the shop keep. “just out of curiosity, how often do you sell this color to trolls” Dave asked while looking at Karkat “oh very often, in fact I think they are a lot more popular with trolls than with humans… is there a problem, sirs?” Karkat looked at the thing and back to Dave until eventually “SIGH, OK”. Dave looked at him with an adoring smile as he gave the man the boon dollars asked for the thing. With a grin on their faces and a greetings from the shop keep the two walked back into the park.
The two walked in a comfortable silence until they reached a fountain where Dave said “oh dude, this is the perfect spot” Karkat, kicked from his thoughts asked “FOR WHAT?” “a picture of course, we’re gonna need to show Kan we put her advice to good use”. It might have been a hobby of Dave’s years ago but he still took photography very serious. Karkat had never seen Dave quite this exited. He watched as his boyfriend walk around checking the lighting and walking back and forth between a couple of places ‘hey Karkat, mind getting over there for a sec?’ Dave spoke kicking Karkat from his adoring daydream. ‘OH, SURE’ he quickly answered trying to act as natural as he could and failing. He walked over to the spot that was pointed out and Dave started messing about with the phone until he said “ok, smile”. Karkat was rather uncomfortable. It just felt strange, this whole situation. He thought it would just be a simple picture with a simple phone and Dave was treating it as high art or something. While Karkat was zoning out again Dave had gotten up, drew a line in the dirt path were he had first been and walked over to him. Karkat snapped out of thought as Dave wrapped his arms around him. He started blushing a bit and a moment later asked in a hushed voice “eeh, Dave, why?” “Couse you were somewhere else” Dave said as he lifted his head from Karkat’s shoulder and looked him straight in the face as he felt his face go red. “will you now smile for the camera?” Dave asked still hugging the troll “…yeah …sure” he eventually replied. Dave walked back to the place he had marked, got on one knee and took a picture of the awkwardly smiling Karkat. After a couple of pictures Dave asked him to strike a pose. Karkat made a flexing pose as awkward as his smile. “next pose” Dave said and Karkat struck a new pose a bit more confident this time and his confidence grew every time Dave had asked for a new pose. This continued for a while until Dave said all t the good lighting was gone. That made Karkat look up and only then noticed the sun had crept behind the tall trees surrounding the fountain.
They walked to the exit of the park and talked about what to do next. “I was thinking we could go to a restaurant and score some food n’ drinks n’ stuff” “NAH, I DON’T REALY FEEL LIKE IT… THER’S A MOVIE ON LATER TONIGHT I’D LIKE TO SEE”. Dave looks at his boyfriend a bit disappointed “aww dude, I was looking forward to taking you out to dinner” Karkat sighs “OK, HOW BOUT THIS. WE STEAL TEREZI’S THING AND FLIP A COIN”. Dave agrees with a nod and hands Karkat a coin. Karkat flips the coin and as the piece of metal twirls through the air Dave says heads. Karkat catches the thing and shows the result, it came up heads. The two walk to the centre of town. Dave noticed that Karkat was deep in thought again “how bout you pick the place” the troll boy looked up at his matesprit and with a friendly smile he answered “SURE”. They strolled through a street filled with shops, cafés and restaurants and people looking through the store windows, having drinks right outside café’s and people having a good time in general. The pair walked until Karkat stopped in front of a sign that read
“Tony’s Italian cuisine
- Pizza 10$
- Spaghetti 8 $
- Lasagne 12:50
Bar open after 7 o’clock
No reservation needed”
Karkat looked at Dave and before he could get a word out Dave said “looks good to me”. The two enter the restaurant and took a place. “WHAT IS LASADGNEY?” Karkat asked Dave who looked up with a smirk and answered “Dunno, but lasagne is a pile of dough leaves separated with tomato sauce”. Karkat question wasn’t really answered by this but at least he now had some idea of what he could get himself into. A waitress appeared, introduced herself as Korina and asked for their orders. Dave decided on pizza right away, it’s one of his favourite dishes but Karkat hesitated for a moment until he asked her the same question he asked Dave. After an explanation that was a bit more in depth Karkat’s decision was made, he was having lasagne. The waitress asked “would you like a drink while you wait?” Dave looked at the menu one more time and said “I’ll have a beer” Karkat looked at Dave and said “I’m having what he’s having” a moment later she returned with two cold beers, foaming white on top and a pale yellow shining through the fogged up glass. The two talked a bit till the drink was half gone and the waitress returned with the food and after having warned Karkat that not just his dinner but also the bowl it was served in was hot, the two dug in.
After the plates were cleaned the two had desert with ice cream and when all the food was gone it was about 7:30. “wanna move to the bar” Karkat’s eyes shot up from the table straight to Dave’s eye’s. Dave had taken his sunglasses off right when they walked through the door of the restaurant and after having peeked into the red eyes of his boyfriend for a moment he answered “SURE”. The two did just that and sat at the end of the bar with Dave between Karkat and the wall which was adorned with beautiful pictures of the Italian country side. A waiter came over to them and took the order of two more beer. They talked about this and that until a couple of glasses were emptied and the two started to feel the effects of the drink. Karkat once again was lost in thought and Dave was just about done with that. “ok dude… you’f been, zoning out all vucking day… what’s up” Dave said as Karkat slowly turned his head to try and keep it from spinning. Trolls react differently to alcohol than humans, it effects the balancing organs earlier but on the other hand they don’t feel “drunk” quite as quick. Karkat sighed and with the same motion closed his eyes. “IT’Z NO USE SAYING IT’Z NOTHIN RIGHT?” a little smile played around Dave’s mouth when he answered “nope” “SIGH… FINE, FINE.” The crabby boy muttered “DO YOU… D’YOU EVER WONDER HOW ZHE VUCK YOU GOT WERE YOU ARE IN LIFE…” Dave looked at Karkat with a raised eyebrow but Karkat continues “AND WHEN YOU LOOK AT THE PEOPLE YOU’RE WIV… AND JUST… YOU JUST” Dave started tapping his fingers with annoyance but still Karkat hasn’t shut up. “AND THE THINGS YOU DO TOGETHER AND… THE LOOK ON THEYRE FACE WHEN… WHEN…” Dave has had enough of this useless muttering “spit it out Vantas”. Karkat tore his eyes from his boyfriends and looked at the 2/3s gone glass of beer in front of him “SIGH… HOW DID AN ASSHOLE LIKE ME GET THIS CLOSE TO AN AMAZING PERSON LIKE YOU” he spoke as his eyes started getting teary. Dave just sat there. Looking at Karkat with a happy, tender and intoxicated smile. Till one word escaped his lips “dude”. Karkat looked him straight in the eye and made Dave tear up as well. The two without saying one more word got up at exactly the same moment and hugged like they rarely did before. With this face buried in Dave’s shirt Karkat whispered “I just love you so vucking much” and Dave answered with a similar, shaky and tear riddled voice “I love you too man”. Some other patrons saw the hug and looked on endeared. The two employers who happened to be at the other end of the bar whispered to each other “oh that’s cute… we’re going to have to stop serving em aren’t we?”
But it wasn’t necessary to stop serving them because after the two had finished their glasses, payed the tab and left with their arms around each other’s shoulders. When they got home it was just passed 10 o clock. “it’z a bit early to go to bed isn’t it” Karkat looked up from taking off his shoes “WELL, ZHERE IS THIS ROMCOM I WANTED TO SEE… WE COULD WATCH THAT” “you know what, sure”. they sat themselves down on the couch with some snacks and something to drink that wasn’t alcoholic and when they got to the channel that broadcasted the movie they found it had only just begun. It was a troll movie so it was all new to Dave but Karkat had seen it 10 times already but it’s one of his favourites, so he wanted to see it again. the two fell asleep during one of the commercial breaks with Dave resting his head on Karkat’s lap and Karkat with his arm across Dave’s chest. Dave woke up in the dead of night. The movie was long over and the channel was now broadcasting infomercials. He looked at Karkat who was in a deep sleep. He turned the tv off, lifted Karkat off the couch and put him in bed, got in next to him and fell in a deep and dreamless sleep.
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stellar-stag · 8 years ago
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Wow it’s been a while since I did a personal update here huh
I’ve honestly transitioned a lot of my venting/personal stuff to twitter
(I promise I havent abandoned you for my furry friends)
(I kinda have)
(I totally have)
(sorry)
But I feel like the last couple months have been a whirlwind for me, so I may as well keep y’all in the loop. I’m gonna sort these by topic.
First off, I had some issues with my romantic feelings. There’s a guy, a very very good friend, who is just fantastic in so many ways. Friendly and kind and supportive, progressive and enthusiastic, and shares so many of my interests. Seems natural that I would fall for him, right?
Well I did, and it resulted in a lot of emotional duress.
He has a girlfriend, and I knew this going in, but I didn’t fight my attachment. In the process of admitting my feelings to him and working through everything, I learned a lot about myself and got some practice in controlling my emotional state and how I react to things. But I also relied on him as an emotional crutch and used him for validation, especially during some particularly low emotional points, which is unfair to him. It is only because he is immensely understanding that we remain close friends, and this could have easily resulted in disaster.
But through this process I have grown, and identified a new issue blocking me from being of completely sound mind: Low self-esteem and reliance on others for validation. During my more anxious periods, I would slip into joking self-deprecation, and somewhere along the way it stopped being so joking. But surely, now that I’m taking meds for anxiety it would stop, right? Well, no. Turns out, even if I stopped consciously having thoughts of “Wow, I’m so bad at this”, I didn’t automatically gain appreciation or acceptance of myself. This manifests in a particularly dangerous manner when guys who are attractive are nice to me. 
I end up conflating kindness with romantic intent, and decide that obviously, if someone doesn’t have romantic interest in me, I must be irreparably flawed in some way. This is bullshit, and I consciously understand that, but my subconscious doesn’t play by the rules. So I end up in a self-loathing spiral that only manifests in periods of intense romantic desire, and a month later I’m exhausted, bruised, and have run the risk of alienating those around me who care about me.
So how to fix it? I suppose I’ll need to work on drawing validation from within, so that rejection feels less of a condemnation of my character and everything I am. It won’t be simple, to be sure, but understanding the issue is the key to overcoming it. 
Here’s hoping.
Secondly: I started working out! As of today, March 24th, I have been to the gym 12 times this month (half the days, holy shit) and thats because I, last week, decided to go from 3 workouts a week to 5, solely because I wanted to. If you told me a year ago that I would, of sound mind and body and my own volition, wake up every weekday at 5:45am to go workout for an hour, and enjoy the experience, I would have called you a liar. 
But I am, and I do. I think it’s benefitting my mental health and self confidence, and I’m thankful that I’m in a place where its even an option. This is only possible due to a coalition of so many factors: A free gym in my office and a natural predilection to waking up early to remove barriers, I started taking Vyvanse in January to aid in my attention issues (not sure if I have ADD/ADHD or what, but it’s helping me remained focused in all aspects of my life and for that I am grateful). And, of course, two people who aided in the impetus for beginning and making it a habit: My dad, for giving me crippling self-worth issues my entire life and then visiting in February and criticizing my health and weight (because I was sweating after walking up a hill, which more and more I realize is not actually an indicator of my exertion! I am just a person who sweats easily, and its more a function of temperature and endocrine system than anything else) and giving me the sheer spite to begin working out, and the guy I was crushing on (who is intensely into working out, and I wanted to impress him. Yeah, I was hella thirsty. Sue me). 
Regardless of the reasoning, I found that (once I cut cardio because seriously, fuck cardio), I enjoy working out in the mornings. It’s calming to wake up by exertion and then cool down slowly at my desk before other people even wake up. It’s given rise to a ritual of sorts where I get to my desk, deal with my emails, make breakfast and tea, all before anyone shows up, so that I can really hit the ground running. And more than that, I don’t have a goal in mind. I’m doing this because I know it’s good for me and I want to be healthy, and I enjoy the exertion and following “good” tiredness. If I was trying to lose weight or trim  fat, or stuck only to cardio, I would have given up by now. But its a habit, and I love it, and I’m sleeping better, eating better, and feeling better.
Again, this is only possible because of an alignment of several factors, but I’m thankful for it, and I’m glad I got out of the mindset that “workouts must suck but people do them because they wanna lose weight”. You don’t gotta do anything you don’t want to do, and I wish I had realized that sooner. Im feeling way better about my body, even, because despite the fact that I haven’t lost weight or gotten trimmer from working out, I know I’m eating (pretty) well and working out, and that my body does everything I need it to. I can take pride in the callouses on my hands and the soreness of my body, because they’re proof of dedication, exertion, and effort, and those are way better things to feel good about than shape and size, anyways. If people think I’m unhealthy because I have fat, they can suck it.
Thirdly, I’ve begun looking for a condo to buy! Housing in the bay area is STUPID EXPENSIVE (and yes everyone knows this, and I know this, but it bears repeating). But I can put a down payment on a one bedroom in a good location, and I’m prequalified for a loan, and I just need to keep waiting and pouncing on leads. I think I’ll be happier living by myself with a kitchen to myself, and still going out to social events to prevent becoming a hermit. Plus, with this setup I can maybe bring dudes back and not have to show them the pigsty that is our living room or the shoebox that is my bedroom. I was terrified at the start of this process, but my mom and the realtor have been awesome about taking this step by step and ensuring nothing is confusing or surprising, which is sweet.
Fourthly, possibly because I’ve been taking Vyvanse but also possibly because I’ve finally begun understanding what the hell I’ve been doing, I’ve really hit my groove at work. The project I’m working on is complex but interesting, challenging but well understood, and I don’t feel alone but still get to feel a sense of ownership. It’s not the most fulfilling thing ever (I don’t know that working on payments platforms for a corporation ever will be) but I enjoy work, I don’t loathe going to work, and despite the fact that I was sick as a dog all this week, I came in everyday (after working out) to work full productive days, and I was happy at the end of each of them, more or less. Its not perfect but its head and shoulders above what most people get from their jobs, and I’m immensely fortunate to be in this position.
Fifthly, this is more a continuation of already known things, but I’m making cool friends in the furry fandom. I’ve made good friends, some who I hope I will keep as friends for the rest of my life, and I’ve already made plans to go to Reno in June and Disneyworld in November to hang out and have fun with them. As nerve wracking as being an adult is sometimes, the freedom is something I wouldn’t trade for anything. 
Sixthly, I’ve been taking a creative writing workshop in SF! It finished last weekend and I’m happy to not need to commute each week anymore, but I learned a lot about reading like a writer and choices you can make as a writer to achieve desired effects. The workshop focuses on narrators and how who is telling the story tells it, and the model they use for exercises is SO HELPFUL. We would read an excerpt of something, discuss how the narrator/choices/tense/mood all work together, and then we would write something in a similar format about whatever we wanted. Lemme tell yall, that is so much more helpful to me as a student than just prompts. Having a guide to format is like drawing from references, its helpful and and great for learning and gives you the tools to make your own things later on. I highly recommend it, and I can’t wait to get back to my book. 
Got a lot of art to make first, though. I’ve definitely improved a lot in artistic skill and confidence, and I’m loving finding niche styles that I like and mimicking them. The stained glass pic I posted yesterday is proof of that, I feel. Its drawn from Mucha and various real life stained glass windows and a bit from Kingdom Hearts, but I took these and the tools at my disposal and wove it into something that feels complete. I figured out how to apply a cloudy “glass” texture, glows, stabilization, symmetry tools, pattern design, and more all through the process, and I know theres so much room to iterate and grow, in shading and coloring and proportion. But even knowing I have room to grow, I’m proud of what I put out and I put a lot of my heart into that piece (yes, its a birthday gift for workout boy. Shut up). I think I’m going to accept commissions for pictures in this style, even. It’s great fun.
So yeah, the last couple of months have been intense. I’ve had ups and downs, but I’ve learned and grown a lot, and I think I’m in a really good place in my life right now, and I hope that every one of you achieves a similar level of peace.
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abynauts · 7 years ago
Text
ooh bummer I fell
welp
guess whut I like someone
and I haven’t liked anyone suddenly like this before //again.
The last time my heart skipped a beat is when I was in High School. And that dude in HS was supposed to be the last man I’d like o_o 
I sound like an old lady who will never love again lol but LOOK I GET TO NOTICE SOMEONE out of the blue... 
Im olredi in college, 4th year o_o 4 years of unmoved feelings from one man in HS.
I thought I made a perfect appearance, being childish, boyish, and unattractive o_o HEY BUT LOOK SOMEONE MADE IT to my tiny black heart lol
HOW DO I even speak of this... can’t tell any of my friends :) Why? well...
1. One of my friends declared their liking over this guy
2. I kept telling them I will graduate with no other feelings or whatever, like ain’t nobody got time for that xD Time will come when its ready or something... You have that kind of figure hahahahaaaaa... but I don’t know for how long could I contain that...
You know when your friends already dibs onto something or someone, you just respect the fact. Even respect it even more because they got the guys to tell it so... Unlike me, who was still unaware of things... of having feelings... this... butterfly--eelliy feelings... its even embarrassing to have this now Im getting old and sht. Like just a few more years, you can date whomever you like because you’re an adult lol but here’s that dilemma that would ruin that.
Its irritating that you get to understand yourself even more as time passes. When she notices the goodness of him, you, yourself also see the light in him. Then slowly you appreciate the part of him... but... also it reminds you that he is claimed... this is just so bittersweet to feel...
When this one friend has not made any declaration, you notice this particular dude being friendly... Treating you unlike how the others treat you usually... or normally... so this treatment was foreign... but... nice...
As a lady, remembering a part of me as one... not just some boyish unattractive college gal who wants to graduate with flying colors, being treated with that old fashion of gentleman-ess... is... I dunno, eye opening. Like halls of doors, instead of windows, just goes so welcoming... Whatever I believed back then, what I wanted to stay as is... is changed by one single man... do you know how that is?? It is refreshing and nostalgic.
I did not really care what was going on... but I know how weird he was being nice and suddenly asking questions that can be intelligently answered by anyone near him or someone he knows. I never had a contact to him that much before... Never talked, never looked, never got close enough to start something... Just this particular semester... His gestures were appreciative, awkward... but appreciative. 
Maybe I only see this on my own perspective but... maybe if there is one proof that this is not a one-sided feeling is... he brought my bag along with the other bags moved under the shade during practice. He did that because I was slow or preoccupied on learning the steps... he could not do that... he could grab someone else’s bag that was still there, his friend’s bag... why mine? Does this connect how his friends making him noticeable towards me every time I pass by him or they pass by me? Or those sudden questions out of the blue? I... from that single act... My heart fluttered... hammering to a sick beat.
A very sick beat... a guilty feeling, knowing how your friend has her eyes on him... and I get to enjoy some of this... its... uncomfortable in a way but... I don’t know. They are both wonderful people. She is nice and girly and intelligent... but also talkative and proud. He is quiet, which makes a complement, and a lot of things interesting... something likeable about him, being ideal man and some stuff... according to her, which is also approval to anyone’s opinion, especially me. 
I also cheer for them... but here I am, having fantasy towards a distant memory of a little romance and sht... Maybe this is the type of liking wherein it came at the wrong place... at the wrong time. There’s no time for this, especially its already finals... I want to let go what ever was started in me... Maybe if this is what the mind wants for escape... maybe this is just not right... I’ve ruined relationships... bestfriend, old love, good friends... and now this?? How is my heart validating such act??? Does my heart doesn’t know when to stop?? when to know that it is enough???? It just... hurts a lot...
It hurts knowing that he and her are going so well these past few days... Going to errands with her where I can see him... Standing next to her where she can have a perfectly view of him... Those stolen glances of her to him... I had those glances with him, back then... back then when I wasn’t aware of whatever that growing here... Back when I was just testing the water... It mortifying to be with her and pretending to be happy on what achievement she has...
I wish that... if he did liked me back then... if now he noticed that I am acting strange... I hope... he can also restrain himself... like how I restrained... how I stop interacting to him for her... or just for me...
Maybe he did those back then so I would notice him, but I had to brush it off... So he would give up... But look, he already carved his way to me. Etched enough in my brain of what could be more of this... or maybe he had done those of nothing, just because I am one of his colleagues... simple as that... I probably am the only one acting this strange :) 
If there was a pill that would make me forget these feelings, then that would be nice...
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