#got these fun brushes that feel like crayon/pastels
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minori and mogami
#got these fun brushes that feel like crayon/pastels#minori is my ourple daughter#mogami get a life!!(literally)#my art#mob psycho 100#mp100#minori asagiri#mogami keiji
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hii!! i am madly in love with your rendering style & i'm trying to learn how to make my art more textured and paint-y! i wonder if you'd be okay with sharing what brushes you use?? or if you have any tips for creating that effect in general lol <33
!!!
Thank you so much! I am currently in the process of learning how to paint/render again after a ~4 year hiatus so this is really nice to hear.
This got kinda long so I am putting it under a read more but tldr: I use one brush (the Artemus hard pencil for csp) and I never blend out my brush strokes bc I want my lines to be visible!
I use Clip Studio Paint exclusively to do digital art so in terms of brushes all I can offer are brushes that work for csp. That being said I have been a one brush for everything type of artist since ~2019 and the brush that I use is the Artemus hard pencil from the linked set with brush density set to ~50 (to help with some pseudo blending of colors) and texture density set to ~25.
I do occasionally use other brushes for one-off effects but mostly stick the the one linked above.
In terms of creating the painterly/textured effect I wold say that the biggest thing is that I don't blend anything. I want my brush strokes (scribbles) to be visible as I am aiming to emulate a rough oil pastel or crayon texture/stroke quality in my work. As a result I tend to go over areas multiple times to build up color (kinda like one would do in a traditional painting: pick color for canvas-->under-painting-->wash-->render-->light source-->re-render) which is not the most efficient way to work...but it is what it is...I also tend to put in my brightest highlights last.
I am not sure if I am explaining this well but I have added a few detail shots of pieces that I have worked on recently where i feel like the brush strokes are particularly pronounced (also showing some fun use of purple as an undercolor..) which could be helpful.
And below is a vague timeline of a recent piece with notes about each step in the image alt.
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Ill bite
For the ask game 2, 18, 21, 25 and 26.
ty for the ask ^^ if anyone wants, here's the link to the ask game!
2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even): i dont mind either way, but i default to drawing peple facing my left, 3/4 and all that. idk if its easier tho, its just what i do instinctually xd
18. An estimate of how much art supplies you've broken: i have several brushes that have been brutalized, a few times ive broken very thin fineliners (expensive ones too) and felt bad about it for years, plus i have a tendency to break pastels/pencils/crayons sometimes, cuz i press too hard or hold them too tight lol. also i once broke a marker tip. actually probably more than once.
21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways: i love simple cartoony styles, especially ones with cool, exaggerated shapes, but i also love semi-realistic, detailed styles, thus my art ends up in this weird in-between state where i commit to neither :')
25. Something your art has been compared to that you were NOT inspired by: anime. so many people (especially art teachers) say its anime. and like. at one point as a kid i did try to draw in an "anime" style but this was pretty recent. i remember one instance four years ago and once literally last month. luckly it wasnt said in a "kids these days" way or "dont draw like that" way, it was just like, an acknowledgement. maybe theyre right tho lmao.
26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended:
okay this is a bit long, but in my 3rd year of art high school i had the principal as my design teacher for a year (the horror). she's this older lady and tho she acted nice for the most part, she could be rly mean (to this day idk if she said certain things on purpose to make us feel bad, or if she legit didnt know how degrading it sounded). she would often read into every little thing about a piece when it really wasnt that deep. or she would read into it and miss the point and come up with some other, out-there interpretation. she also liked to mention plagarism (asking us if we came up with everything ourselves and whatnot) and she would come up with some wild metaphors and symbols that were not really there. for example once she said that a window i drew made her think of imprisonment, because it looked like the bars of a cell, i guess. so this one time for an assigment i made a piece with four characters representing different emotions (happy, sad, angry and apathetic) and they all had colors assigned (yellow, blue, red and gray). it was only their heads visible and they had no real distinguishing features, just the planes of their face and a mouth to indicate a facial expression. i thought it was pretty straightforward, thought she would say it wasnt rly complex enough as a concept. like you know, emotions are a very simple idea and the colors were pretty basic, "blue for sad" is not exactly innovative. so anyway, she said it really made her think and might be interpreted as racist. didnt even pick up on the "emotions as colors" side of it all, despite it being the only real meaning i intended. she was fun, but only in retrospect.
tysm again for the questions :>
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pinky promise | p.parker, b.barnes & s.rogers
[Warnings] little!peter x little!reader, stucky x reader, stucky x peter, ddlg, ddlb, polyamory, fingering, vaginal sex, sex in little space, age regression, millionaire!stucky, hints of breeding kink
A/N: she’s finally here :) i intended for this to have more stucky but it just didn’t work out lol
In which Peter and you play Mommy and Daddy.
taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mandiiblanche @nsfwsebbie@yanderepeterparker @ttqueen05 @belleknows @write-from-the-heart @sad-ed-noise @quaksonhehe
main masterlist
word count: 2.6k
“Pick out which one you want, baby,” Bucky whispered before walking past the little curtain, talking into his cellphone as he listened in on an important phone call. You went back and forth trying on the same skirt, one white and the other a light pink. You were starting to get a bit frustrated, knowing that you preferred when Steve just chose for you.
You huffed, deciding that you didn’t want to look at yourself in the dressing room mirror for any longer. You decided to put them back on their individual hangers and put your clothes on. That morning, Daddy had put you in one of your “big girl” dresses. It was still light blue with ruched sleeves but, paired with your white sneakers, you looked normal enough to walk around the mall.
When you left the dressing room, Bucky was waiting for you. His face instantly fell when he saw your expression, “What’s wrong?” He grabbed your arm softly and when you turned your face away from him, he grabbed your chin, “Which skirt did you pick?”
“I didn’t like them,” You spoke softly, your eyes slowly rising up to meet his.
“But you looked beautiful in them,” You gave him a shy look and his lips began to tug into a grin. He reached up to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“I can’t decide,” You told him, “I don’t need them anyways …”
“Nonsense. If you can’t choose, then my princess must have both. How else are you supposed to turn heads and make a good impression on the first day of classes?” Bucky easily dismissed the idea, “We’ll have a fashion show tonight and the boys can help you pick.”
You should’ve known that money would be no object to him. It was never to Steve but it seemed Bucky liked to spoil you especially. No wonder Peter was so spoiled.
“Thank you, Papa,” As he heard your voice, the raise in pitch and the pouting lips, he knew what you needed. He kissed your forehead softly.
“Awe, my baby doesn’t want to be a big girl anymore. Let’s get you home then, princess.”
It was true. Your date today was very nice and you loved the bond you were building with Bucky but you wanted desperately to wind down in little space. After a long day of college classes, your favorite thing was coming home to Steve but now you got to come home to three people who wanted to baby you.
From the moment, Bucky buckled your seatbelt for you, you were already beginning to slip. He held your hand the entire ride and as the two of you walked into the luxurious brownstone in Brooklyn that you called home.
You were quite ready to run into Steve’s arms but the first thing you saw was Steve’s arms wrapped around Peter. The younger boy was sitting in his lap, playing a video game, his eyes focused on the flat screen illuminating the living room.
When Steve saw you, he smiled of course, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Steve was Peter’s Daddy as well but, in your moment of wanting to regress, you couldn’t help but want Steve’s full attention.
“Hi, Papa!” Peter shouted, his eyes not leaving the Mario Kart game. He was dressed in his PJ’s, the footie ones that had all the little Darth Vader’s printed on them.
“How was your trip? Successful, I hope,” Steve asked.
Bucky seemed to notice your mood had a fell and that's when you felt his hand on your waist. He lifted you easily, setting you on his hip, all while holding your shopping bags. You were very grateful, resting your head on his shoulder, “Very successful but this one is in need of some tender love and care. I think we need a nice warm bath, don’t we?”
Bucky felt you nod and his lips pressed into a thin line. Steve flashed him a knowing look and Bucky gave him a look that said, “don’t worry, i got this”. The merging of your small family went much better than Steve had anticipated but you still had your moments.
Bucky carried you upstairs into the room you shared with Peter. The walls weren’t painted white but the two sides of the room contrasted each other. Peter’s side was full of pastel blues and greens while yours was rainbow central.
Bucky ran a bath for you and, much to your enjoyment, he joined you inside. You felt completely relaxed as he ran a wash cloth along your skin, soaping you up and massaging your skin gently. Your back against his front, Bucky could feel you slowly relaxing.
“You know, both Daddy and Papa love you very much,” Bucky spoke into your ear, his hand dropping between your legs, slowly spreading them.
“Mhm,” You agreed, shivers running through you despite the warm water.
“And Peter does too …” As his fingers spread your folds, his strong hands began to rub in a circular motion.
“I know, Papa,” His pace was still gentle, every circle he made teased your sensitive bulb, and you found your hips starting to grind against his fingers. Your eyes closed as you tried to focus on the sensation.
“That’s why I think that this weekend … you and Peter should spend some time together, while Daddy and Papa are away on business.”
Your eyes opened at that, surprise evident on your face, “Without Papa and Daddy? But we’re too little-” A small moan escaped your lips as he paid special attention to your special area. You slowly closed your eyes again.
“Your big brother will take care of you, whatever you need, princess,” Bucky spoke softly, his fingers working methodically against your clit.
All you could do was nod, agreeing with whatever Bucky had said. You were too focused on your incoming orgasm to disagree. When you finally did release, Bucky didn’t let you go, he kept going until you were trying to pull away from his body. He wrapped his other arm around your torso, pulling you back, as he made you ride out your orgasm.
“Good girl,” He groaned into your ear, “What do you say?”
“T-Thank you, Papa,” You panted and he began to kiss the skin on your shoulder.
+
You were still deep into little space when you awoke the next morning. After a tearful goodbye to Steve and Bucky, you decided that you’d play dress up in order to cheer yourself up. Peter explained to you that he was going to be a “big boy” and make the two of you food for your tea party. A tea party that he invited himself to after complaining that his own stuffed bear was invited before him.
You’d chosen a cowgirl hat to go with your flouncy pink dress and set the living room up to be your venue. The coffee table was fully decorated and pillows surrounded the table for all your guests to sit.
“Petey!” You called to the kitchen just as he entered with a plate. You told him he had to dress up if he was to join you but he refused to put on one of your dresses. Instead, you had to settle for him wearing a red cape and a crown.
He set it out in the middle of the table, proudly smiling as he exclaimed, “Ta-da!”
You took one look and pouted, “You burnt it,” There were about ten slices of burnt toast with butter, “And where are the finger sandwiches? Cinnamon scones?”
Peter gave you a confused look as he took a seat on the pillow beside you. He was already grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing his mouth, “The toast is pretty good,” Was the great response you received. You shook your head, deciding to just pour the tea for everyone.
“Here’s tea for you Buttons, Sassy Cat, Miss Sprinkles, Sir Horse …. and for you Mr. Parker,” You poured his tea carefully and you smiled, noting how impressed he seemed by the simple act. You set down the pot and grabbed your own cup, “And make sure you sip it like this, with your pinky out, because we’re sophisticated.”
“I thought you were a cowgirl,” Peter chuckled a bit as you watched him try to sip his tea carefully.
“A cowgirl princess,” You corrected him with the utmost seriousness, “I’m still sophisticated.”
“My apologies, your majesty,” He bowed his head slightly and you felt your cheeks heat up.
Your day had started with burnt toast but you had a feeling Peter was going to make it a fun day.
+
Hours later, the living room was now shifted into a small fortress made of blankets and chairs. Toy Story was playing on the TV while you and Peter paid attention to your separate coloring books. Your most relaxing pastime was having your paci, letting it soothe you, while you colored. You stayed inside the lines unlike Peter and he’d constantly tear out his pages before starting again.
The two of you had changed out of your costumes from early, having done a million activities since tea this morning. You were down your panties, a rainbow t-shirt, and fuzzy pink socks. You were flipping the page in your book when you felt Peter’s foot graze the bottom of yours. You didn’t think much of it, even starting to find the feeling soothing after a while.
When you turned your head towards him, you found him watching you, “I’m bored,” He spoke suddenly, “Let’s play a video game.”
You only shook your head, turning back to your drawing, and you heard him let out a frustrated huff of air. The stroking of your foot soon turned into a tapping. Despite your attempt to ignore him, he began to inch closer to you. When you turned your head again, his face was only inches from yours and you were looking into his brown eyes, “We can play pretend some more,” That made you perk up and, despite being in the middle of drawing a castle, you set down your crayon.
You gave him a curious look which caused him to smile, “We could play Mommy and Daddy,” As your eyebrows raised in confusion, he continued, “Well I’d be the Daddy and you’d be the Mommy of course. Don’t you know how to play?”
You slowly shook your head and Peter leaned in. You were frozen for a moment as he kissed your pacifier. You felt your cheeks heat us as he gently removed it from your mouth then pressed his soft lips against yours. You’d never shared a kiss with him while the two of you were alone and, for a moment, it felt forbidden, “We have to ask permission…”
Peter could see your enjoyment as clear as day, “But we’re just pretending. Mommies and Daddies kiss all the time,” You nodded, understanding though you still felt a bit nervous.
“I like your kisses, Petey,” You said and you watched his face turn red. He leaned in again and you were grateful for his touch, how he moved your lips against yours, and how his tongue began to explore your mouth. You turned on your side and you felt his hands roam over your backside.
He dipped his fingers into your panties, causing you to cry out, “Shush, we have to be quiet. We can’t wake up the baby,” He whispered to you and you instantly nodded, enjoying the sensation, “You’re soaked, Y/N.”
You could feel his member growing hard against your thigh, still confined to his underwear. You reached out to touch it and you watched him shudder at your touch, “Geez…” He groaned, “Do you want to make another baby?” Something seemed to shift in his eyes and suddenly he was more eager than before.
“Yes,” You nodded, playing along to whatever scenario he was making up along the way, “I love being a Mommy.”
Peter couldn’t wait much longer and you let him climb on top of you as you quickly pulled down your panties. He didn’t waste time with his own underwear, pulling out his hard cock, and pressing against your warm heat. You felt his tip rub against your clit and then up and down your folds.
You held onto the sides of his torso, gripping his striped shirt tightly as he began to sink inside of you, “Y-You’re so tight, honey,” he began to rock back and forth, looking into your eyes as he hovered over you. He gripped the pillows beneath you tightly, the motion in his hips causing your body to convulse beneath him.
“Peter, peter, peter,” You breathed, biting down on your lip. His head dipped down, kissing your lips again and, distracted, you didn’t notice that his hand moved between your thighs. He fucked you while his hand stroked your sensitive bulb, knowing that would send you over your edge. As you tightened around him, you brought him to his climax.
As he collapsed against you, catching his breath, you welcomed his embrace.
“You can’t tell Papa or Daddy,” He told you, hugging you tight.
You only held out your pinky and he wrapped his around yours.
You wouldn’t tell but you imagined the grand punishment that would ultimately lead to you cumming until you passed out.
+
“Petey … petey,” You tapped the sleeping boy’s nose until you finally startled him awake. He was quite cute when he slept, holding tight to his teddy bear while he was tucked into his baby blue sheets. Peter pouted as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing you hovering over his face, book in hand, “I can’t sleep.”
He attempted to close his eyes again, “Count your sheep, Y/N,” He mumbled as he turned his head away from you.
You bounced on top of him, your legs straddling him, and he awoke again, “I counted all the sheep! Like five trillion-million of them,” As your voice raised, he pressed his pointer finger to his lips. He sat up on his elbows, giving you a frustrated look.
“Shush, you don’t wanna get in trouble, do you?” You instantly shook your head, obeying his warning to calm down. Peter eyes the book in your hand, “Why can’t you read it to yourself?”
“I like the way you read,” You spoke earnestly, “And you can say all the big words.”
You knew that would work, stroking his ego. Peter loved it when everyone treated him like a big boy. He thought for only a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips and suddenly his tiredness was gone.
“C’mon, get under,” He motioned for you to move and, excitedly, you climbed under the covers with him. The twin-sized bed fit you two comfortably and you liked cuddling more than anything. As Peter pulled the covers over you, he whipped out the flashlight he kept underneath his pillow.
You rested your head against his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso, as you listened to him, “Don’ you worry, Harry. You’ll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you’ll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it’s hard. Yeh’ve been singled out, an’ that’s always hard. But yeh’ll have a great time at Hogwarts — I did — still do, ’smatter of fact.”
The accents he used always made you giggle. Peter was quite the story teller but that didn’t keep you from drifting off a few minutes later. Peter kept reading, entranced by the novel, but stopped when he heard your soft snores. He turned off the light and let the book fall against his stomach.
“G’night, Y/N.”
#peter parker x reader#little!peter#little!reader#stucky x reader#stucky x peter#daddy!bucky#daddy!steve#daddy!stucky#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x reader#chris evans#sebastian stan#tom holland#little space
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The Colour of Love: Sesskag oneshot
This oneshot is dedicated to @chierafied as thanks for all her hard work and organisation in the sesskag community, particularly on tumblr for sesskag week and monthly prompts. She's also a wonderful sesskag author and always offers advice or a kind word ^^
Rated T
Summary: Shippo puts a spell on Kagome that allows her to see emotions in colour. It's fun to test out on her friends, but why is she seeing an awful lot of magenta around Sesshoumaru whenever she comes near? Sesskag oneshot
The Colour of Love
"I just need to test it on someone. You'll help, won't you?"
Kagome eyed the ominous glowing beverage in the fox's hands dubiously. She winced and picked up a basket, walking away with every intention of weaselling out of the conversation.
"Shippo, no offence, but the last time you tested something on me for class, horns sprouted out of my head and green pimples covered my face for an entire week. I'm not super keen on being your guinea pig this time, buddy."
His tail twitched and lowered, but her words did little to deter Shippo. He followed the miko as she attended to her chores; freeing swaying sheets from where they'd been hanging out to dry and folding them neatly into a basket.
"Oh pleeassee, Kagome! Sensei oversaw my casting process this time- there's no danger, honest! It's not even that cool of a spell."
Kagome arched a brow, lifting off another sheet and smoothing the cool creases. That was odd, Shippo always preferred the flashier spells. "What does it do?"
"It would let you see everyone's emotions in colour."
She tilted her head, "in colour? How would that work?"
Shippo grinned mischievously, holding up his cup and shaking it gently. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"
Giggling, she thought for a moment, biting her bottom lip. "I guess it sounds pretty harmless. And this is for a grade?"
"Yes!" he nodded rapidly, eyes widening as his tone became pleading. "Sensei already graded all the other kids! I'm the only one who hasn't passed yet, and everyone else in the village refuses to help me! I'd owe you big time, Kagome. Please?"
Giving a large, put-upon sigh and folding the last of the sheets, Kagome squatted down before him. "Alright, alright. I just have to drink it?"
Green eyes brightened, and he handed the cup over eagerly, the contents nearly spilling. "Mhm! The effects should only last for a few days~!"
The glowing blue shimmer within her cup didn't exactly fill Kagome with confidence, but she didn't want to stifle his progress. It was wonderful that Shippo could advance in his magic at a kitsune school. Secretly, she felt somewhat guilty about the subject. She hadn't been able to witness his growth for three years after being stuck in the future.
Steeling herself and deciding to support him, Kagome downed the foul-tasting concoction. Coughing and blinking away thick tears that stung her lashes, her tongue roved around in her mouth as though trying to escape the taste of sour candy mixed with spices and mint leaves. What an odd combination. Shaking herself and noticing Shippo watching her worriedly, blue eyes widened as a faint shade of grey coiled and moved around the outline of his body like a shining aura.
"I-I think I see it?" Kagome gasped, reaching out and trying to touch the thing, though it had no solid form.
"Really?" Shippo lit up, the colour immediately becoming a tentative yellow, which only shone brighter into a canary hue when she nodded.
Giving a happy cheer, Shippo asked her about any side effects, which were none as far as she could tell.
They then decided to walk around Kaede's village together, Kagome noting any people they passed by and the colour of their current emotions. Shippo hurriedly took notes.
"There's Miroku meditating-" Kagome pointed to the quiet meadow they passed where the monk sat calmly, having gained two pupils to teach. Monks in training. Inuyasha had voiced his doubts that it would last long once the monks witnessed Miroku's less than savoury habits.
"His aura thingy is lavender and seems controlled," she observed in a hushed tone.
The little kitsune made a noise of affirmation, writing that down on a trailing scroll. "I think purple must be linked with spirituality then? This is great info!"
Giggling, she nodded, noticing how faint the pupil's auras were. She wondered if her own focus on spirituality would be strong or weak.
Moving on, noticed Sango outside her hut, who seemed absorbed in rocking her infant son while he dozed. Her twins were playing with some spinning tops that Shippo had given them.
"What do ya see, Kagome?" he tugged at her pant leg.
She hummed, gaze gentling. "Sango is radiating a kind of baby pink glow. The twins are like yours earlier- yellow and excited."
"So I guess love is pink," Shippo nodded.
Noticing something, Kagome waved a hand slightly. "Hold on-"
"Hm?"
Kaede and Rin were walking towards them, engaged in conversation. The little girl chirped on about something or other, while Kaede nodded indulgently.
"Kaede and Rin have pink auras too, but it's different. It's a pale pink, more like a pearl."
Shippo tapped his small chin with a pen Kagome had lent him. "Hmm…"
"I guess it makes sense since there are different types of love, don't you think?" gently prodding him, she smiled.
"Oh! So like they're feeling something kinda similar to Sango, but different."
"Right," Kagome grinned wider, proud of him. "Familial love for Sango, and platonic, friendly love for Kaede and Rin."
The old miko and her charge stopped to greet them on the path. "What are ye both up to today?" Kaede's single eye slid down to the scroll questioningly.
Kagome waved it off. "Just some schooling."
"Yeah, but it's fun! We're testing magic!"
Rin gaped at Shippo, aura turning green. "Aww, can I help them?" she turned to Kaede with a pout, clasping both hands and making big brown eyes even wider.
"Ye have your own training to attend to, Rin. Come along," the old woman kept walking with a dusty chuckle.
Whining good-naturedly with a now agitated orange glow about her, Rin trudged after her guardian, giving a despondent farewell to Shippo.
At that moment, foul cursing filled the air. The loud, booming swear caused nesting birds to take flight from their trees near the village.
The miko and kit shared a dry look.
"Inuyasha," they sighed in unison.
Needless to say, their former travelling companion's emotions glowed a vibrant red- outshining even the robe of the fire rat. He held his sore thumb, having accidentally hammered it while fixing a neighbour's chicken coop. Kagome wisely hid her laughter, feeling a plume of affection for him, since he'd taken it upon himself to help a neighbour.
I wonder what colour surrounds me when I look at Inuyasha, she wondered, fishing out a small mirror. Unfortunately, she couldn't see the colour. Though they'd broken up after a couple of weeks of dating, that candle of first love between them wouldn't be snuffed out completely. Since she couldn't coax that flame any higher than a tiny, nostalgic flame, she wagered it to be a kind of pastel pink colour.
After a few hours, Shippo looked down at the list of emotions they'd observed. "I think I got most of em' for now. We did great today, Kagome! Thanks so much!"
She giggled and ruffled his hair. "Don't sweat it, kiddo. I need to collect some herbs now, so if I see some new ones while I'm out, I'll let you know," Kagome grinned, leaning a basket against her hip. "I'll be able to see these emotions for a few more days, so no sense in turning in your test results early."
Shippo gave her a brief hug, before racing off to go organise his notes. Beaming with pride, Kagome walked out of the village and up a hill towards Inuyasha Forest with a small skip in her step. She'd helped! And luckily there'd been no side effects or worries of any kind.
Maybe I should help him out more often, she mused, noticing a certain Daiyoukai step out from beneath the shade of trees, powder blue shifting around his aura calmly. Smiling amiably, Kagome lifted a hand in greeting as their gazes met- before freezing.
Sesshoumaru's expression didn't change from its usual combo of placid, haughty and stoic. However, the energy surrounding him immediately dyed a deep, vibrant colour.
Kagome's breath hitched, eyes widening.
It plunged into a bold magenta hue, becoming a solid outline that coiled and thrummed.
She did not understand what it meant, but that she could elicit a change in emotion from him at all felt startling.
He stared at her, unblinking. As he drew closer and closer, Kagome tried to make sense of what he could be feeling, but his guarded eyes refused to risk any secrets being revealed.
"Miko," he acknowledged in his usual crisp, silky baritone. His way of a greeting.
"Sesshoumaru," she said, muscles tensing as he passed by, the silk of his billowing sleeve brushing the hypersensitive skin of her arm. Kagome blinked rapidly, reeling.
Shifting to watch him leave surreptitiously, she watched the magenta remain long after they'd parted ways, spying him duck into Kaede's hut to pay Rin a visit.
What the heck was that about?
Maybe it wasn't anything worth noting. Surely, just like anyone else, the Daiyouki had various emotions linked to things. People elicited different feelings from him; that was perfectly normal. But his mood had changed so swiftly upon seeing her that Kagome couldn't help but feel curious. What did magenta mean? Had she offended him? Did he always feel that specific emotion around her, or was it a one-off?
Turning on her heel, Kagome dismissed her task of fetching herbs in favour of seeking Shippo out again.
---
"What does magenta mean to you?"
"To me?"
Kagome nodded seriously.
Thinking for a moment, Shippo hummed and nommed on a lollipop, leaning back on the log he'd perched upon outside. "I dunno, it's a pretty colour but not a favourite. Can't get much use outta it with my crayons."
"No, I mean like - surely there has to be some demon opinion of magenta? Is it associated with a powerful emotion or something?"
Shippo shook his head, consulting the forgotten scroll. "My guess is- since purple is spiritual stuff, Sesshoumaru feels uh...like you remind him of holy things?"
Huffing out a sigh, she flopped down beside him, placing her chin in her hands. "Doubt that. He didn't seem calm," she mumbled, remembering the vivid intensity of his unblinking stare. "Hm, maybe since red- which is anger- and darker blue- which is sadness- has to mix to make the right shade of magenta, that means Sesshoumaru is both angry and sad when he looks at me." Kagome's stomach dropped. "Oh God, do I make him smad?"
Shippo snorted and tossed his lollipop aside to shake her arm, noticing the dazed look of worry glazing her eyes. "You don't make him smad."
Kagome remained unconvinced. The kit groaned, hopping up and grabbing her hand. "You don't! I'm sure it was just a coincidence he was feeling magenta around you. Let's go see!"
The miko stumbled after the exuberant fox, not fully realising where he intended to go until it clicked they were heading toward Kaede's hut. Kagome's heels abruptly dug into the earth, dragging. "Shippo!" she hissed. "He's visiting Rin- I don't want to interrupt."
"You won't be, it looks like they're saying goodbye already."
Blue eyes widened and her attention snapped up from the fox to land on some distant figures up ahead. Even from far away, Kagome could see the pearl pink aura coiling around Sesshoumaru as he lay a gentle hand upon Rin's head of brown hair. The girl beamed, giving off her own warm shine.
Kagome bit the inside of her cheek, heedless of her own approach now. She realized then just how personal and vulnerable the emotion spell could be- how rare and revealing it was to witness Sesshoumaru experiencing such a wholesome bond, free from violence. Enemies could potentially use it on each other to find out secret information easily.
The Daiyoukai seemed to inhale- abruptly stiffening and lifting his hand away from Rin as claws twitched, curling into his palm. Kagome witnessed the moment his aura bled darker, slipping from innocent pink into the strong shade of magenta- just as he turned his head in their direction. Golden eyes pinned her in place. Sesshoumaru seemed to grow tense and watchful, showing none of his previous warmth.
Shippo paused when they weren't too far away, glancing up and noticing Kagome's pale expression. "Uh... has it happened again?"
"It's even worse than before," Kagome whispered.
"Kagome, Shippo!" Rin called over to them, waving. "Are you still playing with magic?"
This seemed to catch Sesshoumaru's attention, ripping his heavy gaze away to land on his ward. "Magic?"
"Mhm! They're doing some kitsune homework with a spell," she smiled, seeming to gain a devious expression and hurrying over to grab Kagome's freehand, pulling her the rest of the way towards her lord. "Kagome! You should take a quick break and sit with Lord Sesshoumaru. Share some tea together!"
Horror churned fierce and fast through Kagome's system. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable, and prolonged exposure to her would no doubt suck for him if magenta was an irritated colour.
"That is unnecessary, Rin," Sesshoumaru uttered, confirming Kagome's suspicions. She winced a little anyway, wondering why it stung. "This one was just passing through, I will leave now."
Making a noise of complaint, the girl's grip tightened. "Well then, she should accompany you! W-we need medicinal herbs and you didn't gather any earlier, did you Kagome?"
She willed the earth to swallow her whole. "N-no…"
"Then it's decided! She can walk you to the forest since she's heading that way." Rin poked and prodded them to get moving. In all the confusion, Shippo slipped away to make some notes, giving Kagome a thumbs up- which she returned with a death glare.
Wondering what had come over Rin but being trapped by politeness to refuse, Kagome grimly started walking alongside Sesshoumaru, picking up a basket from Kaede's hut.
I shouldn't feel guilty or weird around him, she thought, trying to ease her worry. If he's getting bent out of shape just from seeing me, that's his problem. I'm pretty confident I haven't insulted him recently.
Kagome nodded silently to herself, endeavouring not to let Sesshoumaru's secret magenta emotion matter so much-
"You appear well."
Jumping, Kagome whipped her head up to the regal demon. "Huh?" she blinked, heat touching her cheeks. "Oh! Thanks!" the magenta outline grew bolder, much to her chagrin. "You look nice too. Aha-! I mean not nice- well, you look handsome- but in a good health way! Not a 'compliment on your looks' way. That's totally what I meant. "
Open mouth, insert foot.
His aura only seemed to fluctuate more, and Sesshoumaru's lips thinned. Kagome inwardly groaned. No doubt he hated her even more now!
She decided an attempt to smooth over everything was in order. "Sesshoumaru," she said, taking a breath. "I know we might not be what you'd consider close, but I'd be totally fine with talking about anything that might be bothering you. Even allies can talk about that stuff."
Sesshoumaru blinked languidly, looking as though she'd blurted out a foreign language. He then faced forward, features becoming tightly controlled. "Nothing unsettles me, miko. It is a foolish, human sentiment that I should be 'bothered' by anything."
Kagome rolled her eyes, mouth twitching. Proud, stubborn guy. She didn't know why she found it kind of endearing.
"Why are you so certain I am troubled?"
Her steps faltered before she strode on, biting her bottom lip. "I have a knack for feeling out these things. A woman's intuition," she grinned, noticing his stare rove lower, south from her eyes.
"Hn," golden eyes lingered. Kagome wondered if she'd gotten something stuck in her teeth. "Your intuition is certainly lacking if you are only just noticing something amiss."
A victorious noise escaped her and she immediately swooped in on the slip-up. Sesshoumaru seemed to wince. "Aha! So something IS wrong!"
"Miko-"
"It's just that you've been dealing with it for such a long time that it's become almost normal to you. That about right?" she grinned.
Kagome took his moody silence as a 'yes.'
"I'm sorry I didn't pick up on it earlier. Shippo's um...spell...has made me extra sensitive to how others are feeling," she revealed a half-truth. "I just can't work out how you're feeling. Heh, you're mysterious even when I've got magic to help me understand you."
"You wish to understand me?"
"Well, yes? You're our ally. As established; I'd like to be your friend too."
"I see."
"Sooo...?" Kagome hedged as they arrived at the border of the trees. The Daiyoukai stopped and turned to her once they were beneath the branches, having stepped under cool shade. Kagome quieted, wondering at the assessing, guarded look he pinned her with. Why should the mighty Lord Sesshoumaru guard himself against her of all people?
Pale lips quirked, and he hummed, giving a haughty, arrogant smirk. "Figure it out yourself."
Her mouth fell open. Ire immediately simmered real and hot beneath her skin. "That's not helpful, Sesshoumaru! The whole point of having friends is to share stuff! You can't expect people to know how you're feeling without you telling them, I'm not a mind reader."
He moved in slightly closer then, leaning down. Kagome swallowed but tensed her legs to keep from bending back, holding her ground and straightening her spine. It proved difficult. Sesshoumaru's cold features had a way of unnerving even the most hardened warriors. It was the lack of empathy or emotion in his animalistic gaze; the terrifying sense that something was missing; humanity.
But...
Kagome's eyes strayed to the magenta aura that only blazed thicker and larger, practically drowning her. The spell revealed, albeit without his consent; that Sesshoumaru was a man of feeling. In fact, whatever emotion plagued him, it roared stronger than any other persons she'd seen that day. Besides all that, she'd witnessed his care of others before. Been on the receiving end of it when he'd saved her a few times.
In the shade's hush, he tipped his head slightly, silver hair falling free from behind a pointed ear. "I am not a being that 'tells' other's information freely. Demons can glean enough from my body language, scent and actions enough to understand my feelings."
"And I appreciate that," Kagome said in a softer tone. "But I'm not a demon."
"Rin-"
"Is a child who has spent a lot of one-on-one time with you. I'd also wager that while she understands a lot of your intentions...she doesn't always understand you either."
Sesshoumaru begrudged her point, though seemed ever unwilling to let his mask slip to reveal anything.
Searching his gaze, she wet her dry lips. "What does the colour magenta mean to you?"
His aura flared, and Sesshoumaru surprised her by leaning back and stepping away. His features became a mix of things, the colours changing for the first time around him- grey, yellow, black, fluctuating on magenta and orange before settling on a particular shade of red that made her squeak.
No way- is he embarrassed?
"Why ask that?" he asked in a removed, steady tone. If she focused though, Kagome could pick up on the faint slip in his voice.
Kagome for once couldn't answer, heart hammering in her ribcage. She wasn't sure what to interpret from his reaction, but the colour obviously meant something to him. Shaking her head, Kagome waved it off.
"Never mind. I'll take your advice and work it out for myself."
He blinked and arched a brow, seeming to recover from his surprise. "Oh?"
Kagome made a noise of affirmation, turning on her heel and taking a few steps away. Pausing, she flashed him a smile over her shoulder. "And if I guess correctly, you agree to start telling me the important stuff. Deal?"
Sesshoumaru's face flashed with intrigue. Slowly, thin lips curved. His expression transformed into something quietly eager, the colour aura deepening into blazing magenta once more.
"Hn."
---
After asking near everyone she could think of for their input or ideas, Kagome ran into a brick wall, utterly stumped. That was- until she heard a certain irritatingly high, grating voice.
"But WHERE did Lord Sesshoumaru go?"
"I don't know, he said he was just passing through."
Jaken.
If anyone had insight into Sesshoumaru, it would be the little green imp. Kagome hurried in the direction of the helium sounding voice.
Finding Rin and Jaken by the village well, and struggling to pull a bucketful up together- Kagome quickly lent a hand, hefting the bucket up onto the side. The little girl grinned and thanked her, while Kagome crouched before Jaken, causing him to squeak.
"W-what is it? What do you want?!"
"I need to talk to you," Kagome said seriously. Resting her hands over her knees and leaning forward intently. "Magenta. Tell me your thoughts on that colour."
Bulbous yellow eyes widened. "Hah? Have you lost your senses, strange girl?"
Rin pouted and lifted the heavy bucket down, spilling some water. "Just do it, Master Jaken. If Kagome is asking, it must be important."
Kagome smiled a little, before schooling her features back into complete seriousness.
The imp sighed and squinted, before thinking for a moment. "Hmm, well. I would of course associate it with the most illustrious Lord Sesshoumaru!"
"H-huh? Why?"
"His cheek and wrist stripes are that exact shade! Don't you pay attention to anything?"
Kagome realised he was entirely correct. They matched up perfectly. Excitement built in her chest, feeling like she was FINALLY getting somewhere with the big mystery. "So it's linked with him… I see. What do you think the colour represents?"
"Haven't the faintest idea," he tilted his head back with a haughty sniff. "But since they adorn Lord Sesshoumaru, I can only conclude that it must be a royal, prideful colour."
Her elation fizzled out. Kagome wilted, sighing and standing once more. That didn't fit at all. No way would Sesshoumaru feel pride while looking at her.
Stepping away with the dismal thought that she was back at square one, she paused upon noticing a tugging on her sleeve. Rin clutched the trailing end of it, looking up at her in quiet earnest. She bit her lip and seemed to struggle with something. "I-I'm sure the answer is there if you just try asking more questions, Kagome."
The miko softened and petted her wild hair, smoothing the locks back from her face. "You really think so, kiddo? Because I'm kind of stumped right now."
"Mhm! I don't know what homework you're helping Shippo with, but if its causing you to take an interest in Lord Sesshoumaru, I encourage you to dig deeper!"
Kagome wasn't sure why she felt so strongly about the subject, her smile becoming a little confused. Nonetheless, she decided to take the advice and try again.
The right question…
Grabbing the back of Jaken's robes and tugging him back before he could walk off, Kagome knelt down. She decided to shift her focus. "Those markings on Sesshoumaru's face and wrists- I was wondering if they mean anything."
"Bah! Such things have a multitude of uses! Ahem!" he lifted up a tiny green claw. "Firstly, they are to show that he is poisonous."
Kagome stifled a giggle behind her hand, smiling with her eyes at Rin. "So he's like a flower."
"No! Nothing like a flower! He is deadly!"
"Poisonous flowers exist- but never mind that," she waved off. "What else?"
"Second, the positioning of the markings represents various things. The ones on mi lord's cheeks represent superior jaws, the wrists and ankles represent superior strength in his arms and legs, while the hips represent that he will produce superior offspring."
Kagome turned steadily red, wondering how low those stripes hooked down his hips. She hadn't even known he possessed hip stripes and was now picturing him half-naked. Kagome quickly shook the fantasy away. Rin didn't seem to understand that last part but thankfully remained quiet.
Jaken continued on, bolstered by such a captive audience and happy to talk about his favourite subject. "Lastly, they are to catch the interest of a mate."
"They... are?"
The imp nodded with vigour. "If you were the slightest bit observant, you'd notice that the vibrancy of his markings has emboldened recently. This means he is displaying for a female."
She had noticed that, actually, but Kagome hadn't thought anything of it. She felt close to a conclusion then, so achingly near to the truth. Swallowing to moisten her suddenly dry mouth, Kagome soldiered on.
"I saw that the ones on his cheeks had become bolder. What about his crescent moon?"
Jaken waved a tiny hand, "the moon is just to show which clan he belongs to. In relation to your original question, it is the magenta markings that are paramount. They are intrinsically linked with all that I noted; intimidation signals and mating."
Kagome nodded, inwardly reeling. She mulled this over and thanked him for the valuable insight. Magenta obviously meant more to Sesshoumaru than she'd ever thought.
In light of Jaken's words, Kagome found herself having to observe a certain set of emotions. Since mating was on the list, she reluctantly wandered in search of a known pervert.
Sweat beaded on her forehead as she took Miroku to one side. After explaining the situation in a succinct manner, she took a breath.
"I need you to get horny for your wife."
Miroku stared. He then pushed back his sleeves, clearing his throat and righting his collar. "My time has come."
Kagome's eyes widened and she held up her hands, "wait- I'm not asking to be weird or anything. M-maybe I should explain more."
He lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, patting. "No further explanation necessary, Lady Kagome. If this is in service of deeper understanding between allies, I am more than happy to help. Observe."
Miroku breezily walked away, gravitating towards Sango who had set down their son, attention on the crawling toddler. Kagome groaned and buried her face in her hands- shifting some fingers aside to witness the moment Miroku's calm blue aura darkened.
For a moment, panic leapt down her windpipe as it deepened into purple, hovering over magenta- before the aura settled on a lush hot pink.
The sound of a slap sounded out, Sango moving away from Miroku's groping hand. "I've told you before; not in front of the children!" she hissed.
Her husband laughed airly, stroking his cheek and giving her a fond smile. Kagome's heart warmed slightly, witnessing the hot pink glow into a warm pinkish red.
I think that must be the colour of love.
This, unfortunately, didn't answer any of her questions.
The possible things Sesshoumaru could be feeling toward her made the miko's stomach twist into knots. She went over what to say in her head a dozen or so times- and then a dozen more. It was no easy feat to wait on pins and needles for the demons' return. Inevitably though, word of his return reached her a few days later.
---
Sesshoumaru had been spotted by the trees bordering Inuyasha Forest so she'd set off alone immediately.
Since the sun beat down mercilessly, Kagome was unsurprised to find him by water. Elevated temperatures were likely brutal on those who regularly wore armour- evidenced by the fact that she walked in on him very much without it. Sesshoumaru knelt by a river, eyes closed and hankimono parted- exposing a thin sliver of firm, pale muscle. His head slightly dipped forward, hair held over one shoulder as one hand cupped cool water and splashed it over the back of his neck. Droplets ran down the length of his throat to dip around his collarbone- some sliding down his back. Sesshoumaru massaged the base of his skull, before cupping more water and repeating the process, long fingers running over the back of his glistening neck.
Kagome stared. She'd suddenly never been so thirsty in her life.
His lashes fluttered open to glance at her. His continued silence prompted her to clear her throat and murmur; "I'm not sure if I've got it right."
"Explain."
Kagome felt a blush rise to her cheeks and panic erupted in her chest. She suddenly wasn't ready. She wasn't nearly as ready for this as she needed to be. Approaching the Daiyoukai dressed in a white tank top and dungarees had not been the plan but she'd impulsively sought him out without thinking about it.
His voice turned softer, almost coaxing. "What conclusion did you reach?"
Kagome bit her lip and felt the need to explain her process of elimination. "First off; I feel like I should be honest with you. I can see the colours of people's emotions around them due to a spell Shippo used on me. That's why I was asking about magenta. It's...it's the emotion you keep feeling whenever you see me- I just had no idea what it meant."
Golden eyes cracked a fraction wider, exposing the liquid honey swimming inside, glinting in the afternoon sunlight with interest.
"I asked Jaken about the colour since he has an insight into you more sound than other people. He told me that magenta was linked to your markings- which can represent intimidation signals and m-mating interest."
He arched a brow, something unnamed flickering over his expression. Kagome began pacing back and forth before him. "So! The first thing I did was follow Inuyasha into a fight. There was a weasel youkai bothering a farmer. I noticed Inuyasha's aura turned a brownish, orangey-red during the fight and concluded that was likely aggression! So I figured you weren't feeling defensive around me," she gave a nervous giggle. Why was the sun so damn bright? The humidity only elevated the spike of nerves pricking the back of her neck.
"Next came the... other thing," her voice dimmed and Kagome evaded eye contact. "I noticed Miroku feeling uh...frisky around his wife. His aura turned hot pink- so it wasn't magenta- not that I thought you could ever feel that way about...me," she babbled. "Hell, I've consulted Shippo's scroll a thousand times. I've run through all the emotions we could find and- gah! I couldn't find anything that explained magenta. I guess I failed in figuring out what's bothering you," her shoulders slumped in defeat.
"You went to all that trouble?"
Kagome lifted her gaze to his, loosely holding her arms. "Well, yeah. I kind of realised that I wasn't being fair to you the other day. You shouldn't be expected to verbalise your problems if you're not comfortable doing so. It's a different method than what I'm used to in order to communicate- but if you're happy doing that I won't push you to open up to me."
Since she'd failed to work out his problems, however, Kagome grimly figured there was no hope of them being friends. The thought somewhat bothered her. Sesshoumaru was a solid, assuring presence to have around. It would've been nice to have a deeper insight into the inner mechanisms of his cerebral mind.
Maybe priestesses and demons just can't understand each other.
A shadow fell over her, bathing Kagome in shade. She looked up, finding his curious, burning gaze bearing down on her.
As usual, magenta coiled and expanded around him. So large and encompassing.
Sesshoumaru tilted his head slightly. "Some actions do not require words in order to understand them."
Kagome could only blink, face heating as he hooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted it up- before her heart burst into overdrive in time with lips pressing against hers.
Her squeak came out muffled, hands scrambling uselessly and finding his shoulders, quickly lurching away from the firm muscle to hover uselessly in the air. Sesshoumaru grabbed one of her hands and forced it to his broad shoulder, holding it there as he explored her open mouth.
The miko reeled, dazed eyes picking up the shining magenta aura before her lashes slid shut. Kagome let out a breathy noise as his tongue slid over hers, reciprocating for a moment before her mind caught up with the situation and- WHAT THE HELL WAS SHE DOING?
Kagome's palm pushed against his broad shoulder, ripping her mouth away from his and panting. Sesshoumaru remained close, breath shuddering slightly, gaze hooded.
"That-" she started, having to lick her lips. "That requires MANY words, buster. So many words are needed to explain what the hell just happened."
The Daiyoukai managed to look put out, eyes turning flat. "It seems your ignorance requires a lack of subtlety, but I do not mind. If it is necessary to have you- I will adapt and explain myself."
"To... have me?" Kagome's breath hitched. Somehow magenta was all she could see- his cheek markings so bold and bright.
Sesshoumaru's jaw ticked, eyes squinting and attention shifting away as he seemed to gather his thoughts and construct them onto his tongue.
"Magenta is the colour of love to inuyoukai."
He said it so easily. After all that confusion and so much second-guessing, Kagome was almost angry with him. Almost. The rest of her brain was too focused on processing the unthinkable thing he'd just said and the implications behind it.
"But...your markings…" she croaked.
"Have little to do with it- though Jaken's explanation was not incorrect."
Kagome shook her head, searching his face. "I just...I'm struggling to understand h-how? I mean, you can't feel that way about me."
"Why not?"
"B-because!" she squeaked, cheeks blazing red. "Isn't love a bit of a leap? You barely know me."
Sesshoumaru huffed, placid features shifting to become slightly guarded. He didn't know when it had started happening for he was in the middle before he even knew he had begun, but more and more, he sought her opinions and company. She spoke well and intelligently after all- had destroyed Naraku and the jewel with such power and finesse that had made his instincts stir. "I know enough. This is not something recent. I have watched... and wondered for some time."
"Wondered... what?"
"If it was possible to bridge the gap between us. Perhaps it was foolish to think we could be compatible."
He had a point. Even a spell hadn't helped her understand him any easier. But when Sesshoumaru slowly stepped back, quiet disappointment simmering behind his blank mask yet clear in his eyes- something like panic possessed her. Kagome grabbed his sleeve, blushing harder.
She wasn't sure why alarm had shot through her- but the idea of losing their soft, hopeful flickering flame before they'd even coaxed it brighter to see what heights it could reach felt like something she'd regret forever if she let him go.
Kagome stepped closer. "Not foolish. This is just really unexpected for me."
Golden eyes roved over her face questioningly.
"The colour of love is different for humans, so it never even crossed my mind that THAT was what you've been struggling with. Jaken mentioned you were displaying for a female but- wow," she murmured, gentling. "Thank you... for telling me. No one's ever said that to me before."
Sesshoumaru's expression warmed, just a touch. He inclined his head slightly and Kagome felt an odd flutter in her belly.
"I'm not in the same place as you emotionally but- if- if you'd want to try this human thing called 'dating' we could give it a shot and get to know each other better."
"Hn," Sesshoumaru gave her a considering look, and she almost thought he might decline before the ghost of a smile tilted up his lips. "What is 'dating?'"
Kagome's face burst into a grin, and she took his clawed hand. "You're gonna love it. It involves a lot of talking."
He gave a mock groan, aura glowing brighter.
Naturally, Shippo passed his test with flying colours. His sensei was particularly impressed by his observation of both human and inuyoukai emotions in particular.
He decided to use the spell on himself several months later, laughing and chasing Rin around the village, happy to see the yellow aura dancing around her. Something of note he noticed when rushing by was a certain miko and demon lord practising archery together in a field. As Kagome corrected his large stance, hand guiding his elbow down slightly as he aimed, the warm colours of pinkish red and magenta entwined, lacing like long, seeking fingers gently interlocking.
End
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flowers in your hair
↬ Johnny Suh x Reader ↬1.8k Words ↬Your allergies and creating art are two things Johnny holds dear to his heart
You hated the outdoors. Anything to do with bugs, dirt, and even plants made you itch and sneeze and scared that you’ll get some rare unknown disease and die because the innocent looking flower you picked by the bench turned out to be poisonous.
Johnny on the other hand, enjoyed nature and embraced it to its fullest. Every day he’d make time to bask in the grass, and soak up all the sun while working on his latest art inspiration.
Today, he decided that sitting in a field full of sunflowers would be ideal for his newest project, and what would make it more worthwhile and perfect was if you, his girlfriend were with him to occupy his time and add further enjoyment to his favourite hobby.
Horrible idea on his part because you’re allergic to flowers, and tall fields of grass would most likely break you out into hives and have you coughing up a lung. Johnny wouldn’t bat an eye though, because despite loving you with all his heart, he had a knack for making fun of you and the simplest inconveniences that occurred within your life.
He always says you’re over dramatic when it comes to your “spring allergies” and that nothing like some water and the fresh air will clear your mind and nasal passages.
He’s a dumbass, and he really will be the reason you die one day.
But Johnny didn’t care, because as long he had you, a bottle of allergy medicine for your sneezing and itching, and his paintbrushes, he was content, even if you spent a great amount of your time in this damn sunflower field teary eyed and stuffy nosed.
“Johnny, please tell me we can leave soon, I'm itching way more now than I did when i had the chickenpox as a kid,” you whine, rubbing your hands across your bare arms to provide you with any relief as you watched the bees swarm past you in their search for some nectar in the flowers nearby.
“Mhm,” he whispers, continuing to stroke the paintbrush across the now detailed page, completely oblivious to the words that just left your mouth.
This always happened. Whenever he took you somewhere new, he’d completely block out the world, yourself included, in order to capture the essence of life whether it be through his camera or canvas.
Of course there was silence, why wouldn’t there be. Every time Johnny asks you to accompany him anywhere outdoors, you always think you’re going to explore and embrace nature, and every single time you are wrong, because the second you find something beautiful to look at, he sets his small backpack down and busts out either his camera or painting utensils to capture it.
You’d say it pissed you off at times, but art is his passion, and you’d never do anything to get in the way he feels so alive and free whenever he consumes himself with something as minuscule and simple as a paperclip. He finds the beauty in anything and everything, never ceasing to amaze you with the wonderful creations he illustrates.
“Johnny,” you say a little louder, unamused with the silence you receive, and the continuous strokes he continues to make on the page.
You call his name again, and again, and again, and it’s only the third time when you yell out his full name, that he finally drops the brush on his palette and focuses his attention on you.
“Were you not listening to me?” You question, seriously surprised that out of all the times you’ve called his name, he either completely ignored you or has gone def within his 25 years of life.
“Oh, I was listening,” he hums, raising his eyebrows whilst providing you with his staple cheeky grin, one he always does when he wants to get on your nerves.
Always a cocky one that guy, and how you manage to stay dating him truly blows your mind.
Sighing, you focus your gaze away from the way he picks up his paintbrush again and gently strokes baby blue across the page, looking towards the tall stocks of sunflowers gently breezing in the wind a few feet away from you.
“You’re such a crappy boyfriend,” you chuckle, picking up one of the untouched pastel crayons and examining its fluorescent blue hue. “You never pay attention to me.”
“I never pay attention to you, hm?” He asks, causing you to stare back at his now stoic stature, face still focusing on his notebook and nowhere on you, but more contoured and rigid this time.
“Well, you’re speaking to me now yet your attention is never on me, always on whatever you’re painting or drawing,” your tone slightly angered.
Obviously you were lying. Johnny was the most attentive boyfriend you could ever ask for, always checking in on you and ensuring your day goes smoothly, always hanging out with you when he’d rather be napping or out painting or doing photography, and almost always is down to make out with you whenever the opportunity arises.
You just like to pull his leg most of the time because it’s funny seeing how riled up he gets when he believes that you think he’d rather focus on his hobbies over having conversations with you.
“Here,” he signals, shoving his book in your direction, encouraging you to look through the worn out leather book he kept hidden for months, wanting you to see what he has been working on secretly whenever you were together.
Confused, you run your fingers along the enclosed ribbon on the cover of the sketchbook, hesitant to allow yourself in the work he’s immersed himself in for hours whenever the beauty in nature took over his attention span away from you.
Raising his eyebrows, he nods in a manner that demands you open the book. “If I don’t pay any attention to you, look through the book.”
Untying the string , you decide that whatever is in this book isn’t a secret anymore, because it wouldn’t even be in your hands if Johnny didn’t practically throw it at you to shut you and your curiosity up.
The first few pages are beautiful, really. He has a way with his sketches, always seeming so simple yet so realistic you’d think they were actual pictures edited just to appear more striking to the eye.
“Nature really is what inspires you hm?,” you ask, more of a rhetorical question because you already know the answer that’ll come from his mouth.
Chuckling, he brings his body closer to yours so his chin is resting on your shoulder, watching as you delicately turn the pages of his book. “Yeah, but there’s something more encapsulating that ends up being my muse, just keeping looking through.”
Golden sunflowers, vibrant pink sunsets, the giant pumpkin you both visited at the fall fair last year, everything you two experienced together when hanging out was documented in this book and reinvented through his drawings or paintings of them.
And then you saw a sketch of yourself. At first you thought it was cute, because he’d always draw you and all your other friends whenever he got bored. But four pages later all you found were several pages filled with you, ranging from when when he placed different coloured tulips in your hair that one time you went on a walk in the new community garden not far from your favourite ice cream shop, or when you experimented with makeup and put glitter all over your eyebrows.
Every moment you deemed minuscule and fun was captured so deeply in Johnny’s eyes, that he decided to relive it all again through the many strokes and colours that seamlessly came together to create something so beautiful.
Your breath was absolutely taken away.
You always thought nature is what captured Johnny’s attention the most, but turns out it’s always been you.
“I’m. Wait Johnny this is so-,” you begin to say, but your words become jumbled and your emotions a tangled mess, leaving you with tears in your eyes and so much more love for him in your heart than you’d ever had before, all because he drew some pictures of you.
“Do you like them?” he questions, raising his eyebrows, awaiting your answer of approval, his question only promoting the waterworks to begin and your head to aggressively nod.
You place the notebook gently on the blanket you two were sitting on, and crawl into his lap, pressing your body closer to his as you wrap your arms around his neck.
They were absolutely perfect. He was perfect.
Everything Johnny Suh says and does is absolutely incredible and you’re so incredibly lucky to be dating the cheesiest, most loving goofball the earth has to offer. Even if he’s a giant pain in your ass 97% of the time.
Pecking his cheek, you stare into his gleaming brown orbs. “I absolutely love them, Mr. Johnny Suh, and I love you a million times more.”
Tightening your arms around his neck, you couldn’t help but embrace this moment for much longer. You don’t care that you’re five seconds away from bursting into hives and that your throat feels like it’s closing up. Holding on to your very sweet, thoughtful boyfriend for as long as you could right in this moment was all that mattered to you.
“I was joking by the way, I know you care about me alot and pay more attention than most boyfriends would and I appreciate you tremendously.” You could start to feel the tears well up in the corners of your eyes, because you honestly don’t know what you’d do without Johnny.
He was your best friend, and has been such an uplifting, inspiring person ever since he entered your life your freshman year of college, the thought of him not being in your life one day was a scary thought you never wanted to come true.
“I love you always.”
“I know babe”, he whispered, kissing your cheek and running his fingers delicately through your hair, trying to calm you down as he could sense you were feeling rather overwhelmed.
“I wouldn’t keep dragging you to places you hated if I knew you didn’t love me,” he exclaimed, bursting out into a loud, body shaking laugh that provided you with the comfort to let your tears go, and laugh in unison with him.
Lifting you off his lap, Johnny grabs his art supplies and gently places them in his bag, grabbing your hand and pulling you up from the dry, matted grass you were both sitting on.
“Where are you dragging me?”
“Back to my place.” He winks, quickly pecking your lips before intertwining his fingers with yours, pulling you into the direction of his car.
“It wouldn’t be romantic to be making out with my girlfriend that I love very much in a sunflower field if she kept sneezing in my face, wouldn’t it?”
#johnny scenarios#johnny seo#johnny suh#nct#nct 127#nct scenarios#nct scenario#nct 127 scenarios#kpop scenarios#johnny nct#nct fluff#nct soft hours#johnny suh scenarios#nct au#nct 127 au#johnny fic#nct fic#nct blurb#johnny blurb
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February 2021
Irises and purple, lavender and white hyacinths. For merely three bucks. What a gorgeous bouquet.
My own thai curry recipe. It's THAT delicious.
A pep talk from Manu. Realising I really need to take more chances. And get rid of that dude I've been hanging out with. I've been feeling so stuck lately. I'm toying with the idea of giving it all up. Quitting my job. Leaving the country. Just to see what happens. Because I'm pretty sure I'll love what happens next. / Whatever worlds you live in, there are other worlds out there. If you are uninspired living life a certain way, it’s your duty to change. Nothing, not a relationship or job or housing situation, is worth sacrificing your ravenous hunger for life for. X
I feel my obsession with artificial cherry flavour creeping back up on me. Cherry-flavoured diet coke is one of my guiltiest pleasures.
I keep seeing those multicolour graffiti tags everywhere and I finally found out what kind of pen they use for this effect! I ordered one, I just had to, and it's fantastic. So beautiful and vibrant! I've already asked around how illegal it is to walk around the neighbourhood signing my tag on random surfaces...
Fresh pineapple.
The ocean. Talking about diving. Watching documentaries about marine life like My Octopus Teacher and Blue Planet. Drawing nautical objects, sea dragons and mollusks.
Learning more about apophenia.
It actually smells like spring in the forest and the days are already so much longer. I even saw a deer jumping over the path last night. I even got Frank to join my on my walk for the first time.
A little glimpse of summer. The south of France is my happy place I keep going back to. But there are more little reminders of the world out there, of travel and summer, that I thoroughly enjoy. Like watching Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat with Samin Nosrat. Not only do I really want to try making my own Tahdig now but I also kept smiling throughout the whole show because they filmed episodes in Italy, Japan and Mexico. Just imagine walking across a citrus market in the Yucatan right now. Or making Pesto Genovese with an Italian nonna in a Ligurian castle. Maybe even learning how to make your own miso in a remote corner of Japan. There is so much longing within me at the moment. What made my virtual culinary travels even better was Netflix's Street Food series. I especially enjoyed the episodes from Bolivia and Mexico.
I May Destroy You. Different, and very relevant.
This year's Valentine's Day happened to be pretty rad. So I've exchanged the boring nerd I had been dating with an exciting artist from Colombia. John is a painter, a poet, photographer and filmmaker who gave me a Spanish copy of an Oscar Wilde book with a poem he had written for me. My cold and cynical German heart is not used to wooing on this level but I love it. On Sunday we walked through the English Garden and Schwabing in the sunshine, took photos, looked at some art and antiquarian bookshop windows. We saw two cats inside the cat café, bought fancy macarons at Maelu and just kept talking. I even found a few interesting books about dream interpretation on my way home. John has a reference to Kleist's tragedy Penthesilea tattooed on his collarbone - Küsse/Bisse ("das reimt sich, und wer recht von Herzen liebt, kann schon das eine für das andre greifen"). He is a Scorpio with impeccable taste and sends me songs he plays for me on the guitar / Cocteau Twins tunes upon waking up. I really needed this.
Having my students create English comics with Pixton. I love how much their avatars actually look like them! I hope they had fun, too.
The smell of cherry-flavoured candy wafting through the air.
Semolina pudding with banana. The subtle heat does something to the bananas; the combination is simply delicious.
I watched the first season of Chef's Table and was really impressed by Francis Mallmann. I admire his courage and lifestyle. The constant change he craves. The way he speaks foreign languages and just bravely does his very own, unique thing. I want to live like that, too.
A crystal clear view of the Orion constellation.
Very fine snow powder against the sunlight. As if it was raining glitter.
Feeling cool and confident. A fleeting feeling but it makes such a big difference.
When we practice forgiveness, we let go of shame. Embedded in our shame is always a sense of being unworthy. It separates. Compassion and forgiveness reconnect us. / reading bell hooks' all about love.
Mustering up enough motivation to go through all my stuff in the basement and put a few items on eBay. I'd been putting this off for years now.
I'm amazed how good my phone camera is. I took some pictures in the pitch-black forest and you can make out the moonlight on the path and even see star constellations on the photo.
Spending quality time with a cuddly kitty boi.
Blue corn quesadillas prepared for me by a bloody gorgeous Mexican metalhead.
Writing that message I should have written weeks ago (letting Simon know that I wasn't particularly interested in dating him anymore).
Trolli burgers. The best gummy candy out there. Arguably the most fun. I love being able to disassemble my food and eat it layer by layer.
John's story about that acid trip on a boat somewhere in the ocean off the Colombian coast. They lay under the bright moonlight and were suddenly surrounded by Gray whales communicating with each other through song.
The spicy smell of a fresh, moist loaf of rye bread. Eating it with soured butter and salt.
The first snowdrops of the year.
Another one about the moon: walking home late one evening there was a lunar corona in the fog. I loved how the light illuminated my arms in that cool, white light.
The morning after the worst weekend in months or maybe even years (with both a mental breakdown and a medical emergency because misery loves company, eh?) Waking up early, pain-free. With a little spark of excitement and motivation. Just lying around for an hour in the darkness. Meditating. Falling back asleep for a little while. Getting up eventually, brushing my teeth and hair, painting my nails.
Painting more. Just experimenting with colour, intuitively. Without putting pressure on myself. The other night I painted with oil pastels and chalky pastel crayons while watching Dawson's Creek (I successfully avoided this series for 20 years and now, in my thirties, I start watching it?).
Bananas with nut butter, dark chocolate and sea salt.
Meditating with the blanket covering my nose. Breathing in fresh laundry smell.
Riding home from school with Anastasia, talking about diving adventures.
Reading Jill Heinerth's book Into the Planet. Her career as an explorer and cave diver is breathtakingly exciting. I couldn't put that memoir down. And it made me even more antsy. I'm really unhappy and bored right now - I wanna go out and learn something new, explore, live a little more.
Going to work without make-up. In the last ten or even fifteen years I put on make-up every single day I went to school. I'm done. Lockdown made me come to terms with the look of my bare face.
Learning about Antarctica cruises. It only takes about 24hours to reach the area from Argentina! I'd really love to go but the cruises are crazy expensive.
My house plants sprouting new leaves.
The moment the pain suddenly stops and you can breathe again.
Tropical breakfast. Banana, kiwi, mango, pineapple. And plain yoghurt. Decidedly non-tropical.
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Klaine one-shot “On Your Mind” (Rated NC17)
Summary: Blaine is sitting at a bar, ill-advisedly looking for Mr. Right ... and failing. But as he plans to leave, he sees an incredibly gorgeous man who captivates him. He sits back down and watches him, fantasizing about who he is, what he's doing, and why he's there. But before too long, Blaine discovers that this man is far from ordinary. (3448 words)
Notes: This is a re-write.
Read on AO3.
Being a New Yorker isn’t for the weak-hearted. Living here is rough.
And as the days go by, it doesn’t get any easier.
The city can be cruel. But it’s exciting, too. Blaine loves living here. He may be a small town boy, but he can’t imagine living anywhere else. But he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t overwhelming.
Back home in Ohio, people wore their hearts on their sleeves. That made it easier for him to survive as the token gay kid at his high school. From bigots to allies, he pretty much knew where everyone stood from the start. But in New York, everyone has their own unique brand of armor, forged through the give and take necessary to thrive in a diverse metropolis. It’s harder to tell from the outset who’s truly on his side and who’s faking it.
When Blaine first moved to New York, he stumbled into a few hornet’s nests. He learned a valuable lesson, but now he has a habit of being super-cautious about everyone, over-analyzing behavior, picking actions and conversations apart in search of clues.
It keeps him safe, but it also leaves him lonely.
He feels the weight of that as his butt falls asleep on the hard-as-a-rock barstool he’s monopolizing, stirring the watered-down rum and coke he’s been nursing for over an hour. He doesn’t actually like rum and coke too much. He’ll drink it, but it’s not his preferred choice overall. If he wasn’t so concerned about looks, he’d order a strawberry daiquiri. But a tall curvy glass filled with pastel pink drink and topped with a colorful umbrella isn’t the impression he’s trying to give off. He’s afraid it might scream flaming gay. A rum and coke always struck him as a man’s drink, probably because that’s what his dad used to order. And if there was a man’s man anywhere out there in the world, it was definitely his dad.
But Blaine, sighing in the solitude that is his corner of the bar, really wants a daiquiri.
He runs a hand over his tired face and up into his hair, mussing what was once a helmet of meticulously plastered curls, though he figures that the way he looks far from matters now. If not a single man looked him up and down when he was fresh faced and crisp as a brand new hundred dollar bill, then no one’s going to look at him now.
Not anyone who’d want to spend more than one night with him anyway. And even then, he’s giving them too much credit. More like fifteen minutes in the bathroom. And as much as Blaine has had fun in his fair share of bathrooms, he’s really looking for something deeper. Something more.
Of course, this bar that he’s scored most of the ass he’s tapped since he’s lived in New York probably isn’t the smartest place to go looking for it.
But his choices are limited. He’s a creature of habit, and this bar happens to be a block away from his apartment. Aside from that, he’s a certifiable workaholic, and he doesn’t like to shop at work. He’s a producer and a songwriter, currently slumming the orchestra pit down at the Lyceum Theater as a favor for a friend, and even though Broadway is rife with gay men, the ones he’s hooked up with have mostly been social climbers, warming his bed, hoping for the opportunity to snag something better than chorus line.
Blaine Anderson is no one’s stepping stone.
He takes a sip of his drink, checking to see if it’s any more salvageable than it was five minutes ago, and since the answer is no, he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, preparing to settle his tab and head out. Who knows? Maybe if he hits Whole Foods on the way home, he might stumble across a nice, eligible bachelor in the organic produce department.
And this is where his imagination runs wild.
They’ll both reach for the same Asian pear. They’ll brush fingers, giggle bashfully. Blaine will offer it to him, but the man will insist Blaine take it instead. Small talk will ensue. They’ll find out they have tons of stuff in common. They’ll go for coffee and end up talking till five in the morning because time will fly by. And as the sun peeks over the horizon, they’ll share Blaine’s pear, along with a few sweet kisses …
It’s the rom-com variety meet-cute New York City is known for.
The romantic in him says it’s worth a shot.
The realist in him says don’t hold your breath.
He puts a tenner on the bar and tells the bartender to keep the change.
High-pitched laughter cuts through the murmur of drunken conversation, stopping Blaine cold, half-standing with his hand thrust awkwardly down the back pocket of his pants. He doesn’t understand why he has such an extreme reaction to it, but it calls to him, goes through him – in his ears and around his brain like a silk sheet, sliding down his throat like a rich mouthful of hot chocolate and settling in his belly. He’s never had that reaction to a laugh before. It’s almost ludicrous. He waits for it to continue, but it doesn’t, and the heat in his belly begins to cool.
But I didn’t just imagine it! he thinks as the sensation drifts away. It was clear as day!
He turns his head, eyes sweeping the dingy bar for whoever made that sound, pausing at the front door as traffic flows in and out. A thin stream of average, uninteresting faces make an appearance but nothing that fits that voice. A few faces later, Blaine decides to go with his first instinct and leave, but he stops for a second time when a gorgeous, almost otherworldly man with pale skin and impossibly blue eyes walks into view. He turns to the bartender as he passes Blaine, not even sparing a glance for the man staring numbly like a dumbstruck teenager. When the stranger speaks, his voice sounds even more magical than before.
“Shirley Temple, extra cherries if you please, Ronnie.”
Ronnie, a surly manticore of a man with a handle-bar moustache and bright red suspenders, raises a hand to acknowledge his order.
“Sure thing,” he says, his gruff, smoker’s voice sounding happier now that he – whoever he is – has arrived. Other patrons at the bar turn to welcome him with a wave or a smile. Blaine notices that the overall atmosphere of the bar has become lighter, less depressing, as if whoever this man is swept in and cleansed the aura of the room.
Or maybe the rum, weak though it is, is finally hitting him.
Either way, this man, taking a seat at a table not too far from him – this ethereally handsome, fashion-forward man with the sea blue eyes, and (Blaine can’t help noticing) incredible ass stuffed into ridiculously tight jeans - convinces Blaine to sit back down and hang out a little while longer.
Whoa, those jeans are tight! he thinks. I mean, I guess I can’t talk. My pants are pretty tight, too. But those look dangerously tight. Like … health endangering tight.
The man sits up straight and runs his hands down his thighs, stopping briefly at his knees, then continuing back up to his hips again. Blaine leans forward at the sight of this man touching himself, stroking the dark denim pulled tight over trim legs, and nearly falls straight off his stool.
Blaine pinches his lips together tight before he can accidentally moan out loud and make a fool out of himself.
N-not that I’m complaining. If you’ve got it, flaunt it. And you definitely got it. I mean, have it. And that voice … are you a singer? I think I would have heard of you if you were a singer. You’d have Broadway wrapped around your finger if you were …
The man bites his bottom lip, holding back a smile, eyes searching the bar, looking for someone. His hand trails up the buttons of his shirt, fidgeting with his open collar, touching his neck lightly with his fingertips.
He must be waiting for someone special. Probably a lover with a reaction like that.
Looks like I don’t stand a chance, huh?
Blaine watches his fingertips move, envisioning opening the man’s shirt, button by button, following with a kiss to every newly revealed patch of skin, ending at his long neck, tracing a path up to his ear with the tip of his tongue. Blaine blinks his eyes, snapping back to reality.
Okay … I don’t know where that came from …
The man looks distracted as he peers off into the crowd and swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bouncing when he does. A waitress comes up to his table with a tray carrying a single drink – a bubbly beverage overflowing with crayon red maraschino cherries. The man’s eyes flick up to the waitress and he smiles, the distracted look dissolving with his enigmatic grin. The waitress sets a napkin down in front of him, and then the drink on top of that. The man nods and watches the waitress walk away before he regards his drink.
Blaine has become positively fascinated with this man, every minute detail of him, even though apart from being inconceivably sexy he has yet to do anything more extraordinary than smile and sip his drink.
But that smile.
It has more character, more personality than the half dozen men he’s tried talking up this week.
The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. He opens it up on the table in front of him and looks at it intently, reaching for his drink again and forgoing the straw this time to take a healthy sip.
That’s an awful lot of cherries for one poor drink, Blaine muses. And here I was, stressing over a daiquiri …
The man looks up from his paper (list? letter? Blaine can’t tell from where he’s sitting …) and chuckles. He pauses for a moment, as if he’s expecting something to happen, gaze shifting left and right, and then returns to the words on the page. The smile on the man’s face drops an inch, than an inch more, until none of it remains.
Sucky news, huh? Blaine commiserates. I understand how that is. I hope that’s not a Dear John letter. Blaine’s mind drifts to thoughts of an envelope resting against his lamp on his bedside table, the letter inside months old but read so many times that creases from the folds in the paper are tearing.
But the edges are still sharp enough to sting.
Someone with gorgeous eyes like yours shouldn’t have to read something like that, he thinks with a sigh.
The man sighs as well, eyes skimming the last few lines. His smile returns. He folds the letter back up and puts it in his pocket.
Guess not, huh? Well, good for you. A man like you deserves love letters … and poetry …
The man shakes his head, but this time he’s staring straight ahead at someone approaching his table. Another unspectacular man from the bar - this one wearing a long, tan coat - walks right up to the only vacant chair at the table and sits down without being invited.
Rude, Blaine thinks. The man he’s been watching for the last half-hour raises both eyebrows and nods his head once, as if he agrees. Blaine watches the second man closely, observing the way he sits, how his eyes bounce from face to face around him, how he keeps his hands folded in his lap, suspiciously close to his hip. The waitress comes up to take his order but the man waves her away, and Blaine gets it.
This second man is a cop.
Suddenly, this show he’s been watching has just become way more interesting. His thin rum and coke forgotten along with all pretense of ever leaving this bar, Blaine focuses on the couple, no longer concerned whether they know he’s watching them or not. He debates finding a chair closer to their table so he can hear what they’re saying, anything to give him a clue as to what his mystery man is up to.
The cop monopolizes most of the conversation from what Blaine can see. He starts talking, low and calm at first, but then more and more animatedly, gesturing with one hand since he keeps the other pinned to his side, probably where his holster is. Blaine prides himself on the fact that he has watched enough episodes of Law and Order that he’s well-versed in many aspects of police behavior by now. In fact, he’s considered becoming a police officer. He thinks he’d be really good at it. He’s athletic and smart (if he does say so himself). And he can be assertive. Only problem is he’s not too keen on guns … or chasing after people … or getting shot at …
In the middle of the officer’s speech, the man with the iridescent blue eyes starts to laugh, apparently at an inappropriate moment because the officer stares at the man with mouth agape and eyes wide, offense written in every line of his strained face. The blue-eyed man peeks up at his companion and waves a dismissive hand. It looks to Blaine like he’s assuring the angered officer that he wasn’t laughing at him or anything he said. He quiets down, gesturing for the officer to continue.
Blaine watches in silence as the two talk back and forth, concentrating on their lips to see if he can catch any snippets of conversation. He narrows his eyes until he gets a migraine, but the only words he thinks he can catch are ‘lost’ and ‘help’, and maybe ‘dead’, though it could have been ‘den’ or ‘desk’. Blaine’s eyes begin to cross, and more and more he’s starting to wish that the police officer guy would just leave so he can go back to unraveling the mystery of this man with the prismatic blue eyes.
The man (Blaine has decided to call him ‘Noel’ since he bears a striking resemblance to a young Noel Coward) closes his eyes and puts his fingers to his temples, pressing and massaging tiny circles into his skin.
Is Captain Overbearing bothering you? Blaine thinks. Is he giving you a headache? I know people like that. They walk into the room and pow! My head throbs. I used to let them walk all over me, mostly because we’d been friends forever. It happens with my brother, too. I could tell them to eff off, but I guess I have a phobia of not having any friends. But now, being a New Yorker for the past decade, I opt for revenge. Not the big kind of revenge. I mean, I don’t think I could hurt anyone, or ruin their lives, or anything. I have been known to slip a few drops of Visine into their soda. Gives them the poops for hours. That’s fairly satisfying …
In the midst of massaging his temples, the man smiles. He opens his eyes, throws his head back and laughs, and again the officer looks entirely put off. The man shakes his head, leaning toward the man across the table, putting a hand up to either amplify his voice or shield his lips from view. Blaine pouts, feeling intentionally left out of the conversation. Even though his lip reading skills have so far gotten him nowhere, now he has no hope of finding out what’s going on between Noel and his police officer friend.
The officer nods, his eyes performing a cursory glance of the bar one last time before he gets up and heads for the exit. The man at the table stands as well, reaching into his back pocket, squeezing his hand into the tight fit and pulling out his wallet. Blaine deflates when he sees the man pull out a bill along with some other thin piece of paper, something that looks suspiciously like a business card, from his wallet. He places the bill beside his half-drunk Shirley Temple on the table, and then turns on his heel. Blaine expects the man to head out the door after the police officer, but instead he looks straight at Blaine.
Blaine pivots his head left and right, then turns his head completely around and glances behind himself to be sure, and yes, he’s the only one in Noel’s sight line at present. He heads right for Blaine, eyes locked unnervingly on Blaine’s face, and for a moment Blaine becomes confused and frightened all at once. The man is striking, but he also has an undeniable air of confidence and power that makes Blaine want to drop to beg for forgiveness and do whatever this man tells him to do. But why does Blaine feel so guilty? He hasn’t said word one to the man! He’ll admit, he has been staring, but that’s all.
Maybe he should have just gone home when he’d planned. Now he’s about to get into a fist fight in a bar.
Not really. Blaine has no intention of throwing a single punch.
The man stops before Blaine, hands resting on his hips, doing nothing but look at him, eyes going over his body from head to toe. A range of emotions pass over his face from amusement to sympathy to curious. He lands back on amusement and stays there. He holds the thin card out to him. When Blaine just stares at him, speechless, he leans forward and slips it neatly into the outer pocket of Blaine’s button-down shirt.
“The name’s Kurt,” the man says, “not Noel, but I appreciate the compliment. Also, I appreciate your concern about the effects of my pants on my health, but I promise you, they’re no tighter than I can handle.”
Blaine leans against the bar, knocked out of his stupor by the man’s opening line.
“Believe it or don’t, I understand what it’s like to feel alone in a city of 8 million people. We have that in common. And by the way,” the man Blaine now knows is Kurt, not Noel, says, “I’m not a big fan of rum and coke, either. So when you take me out on Friday night, just order the damn daiquiri? Life’s too short for shitty friends and crappy drinks.”
Kurt pats Blaine’s pocket where the card is safely tucked and winks, turning and heading toward the entrance where the police officer has ducked back in to wait for his companion to follow.
Blaine still hasn’t said a word, stunned into silence as he watches Kurt leave. Kurt says something to the officer at the door, motioning vaguely in Blaine’s direction. The officer’s eyes find Blaine and the weary man smirks. He holds the door open for Kurt, who turns one last time to see Blaine stuck in the same position that he left him. He raises an arm and waves, blowing Blaine a kiss. He steps out the door with a satisfied grin, and like that, he’s gone.
Blaine waits a moment longer after Kurt has gone, trying to wrap his mind around everything that happened. But try as he might, it’s too surreal for him to comprehend. Noel – not Noel, as it turns out, but Kurt – had called him out on everything he’d thought while watching him. But how? How in the hell is that possible? Well, he works with a police officer. Is there a chance that maybe he … what?
What, Blaine? he asks himself. What on God’s green earth could possibly explain all of that?
Remembering the card waiting for him in his pocket, he pulls it out carefully, not willing to lose it and the opportunity to contact that fascinating man. Blaine reads the words embossed on it, then he reads them again. He reads them over and over, close to a hundred times, and after their meaning sinks in fully, he’s not sure if he should laugh or find the nearest rock and hide under it.
Blaine mentally goes over everything he saw tonight – every inflection Kurt made, every movement, every shift of his inquisitive eyes. Blaine has spent the past ten years of his life being a skeptic, constantly questioning everyone’s intentions and emotions, feeling like no one he’s met has truly understood him, nor has ever really wanted to. But after tonight, none of that matters.
This might be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
Kurt E. Hummel
Medium
Psychic Investigator
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The Tales of Old Vilnius
Ašmenos gatvė
- ...and also acrylics in those large jars, - says insatiable Tony, - yeah, all the colors, except maroon. And brushes. No, not these, the ones in the corner. One, two, three, and zero. And maybe... yeah, this palette knife. And that one, too. Wait, what's on that shelf?...
While we are packing everything into our backpacks, a tiny, gray-haired saleslady restlessly rummages the cashbox, like a bird in a feeder, searching for the change from Tony's 200-litai bill.
- I have no change at all, - finally, she sighs. - Maybe you can take this?
She puts a box of colorful chalks on the counter. Not pastel, not even oil crayons, just simple chalk, like the ones we used to write on a blackboard with. And, of course, on asphalt.
Chalks don't interest me, I'm trying to zip the bag, and Tony automatically puts the box in his pocket. The saleslady, assured that the problem is fixed, smiles freely.
- Good, good, - she says as we walk away, - Present it to your kids, they should be happy.
Neither Tony nor I have any children. But we leave this knowledge to ourselves, not to disappoint the tiny gray bird.
Outside the doors, two suns are shining - the sky one, and its reflection in a silver puddle that fills the entire roadside. And wind is blowing, spring-warm and so strong that we promptly give up our right to choose the path and turn, so it hits our backs.
- Sunny wind, - says Tony, and squints, like a pleased cat.
We turn around the corner, to Ašmenos gatvė, and there - who would've known?! - Wind stops. And we instantly remember that we wanted to stop for smoking a long time ago. Even before we stopped by the shop. And now we want it so much, no words could describe the feeling.
While Tony is busy with the cigarette rolling machine and empty tubes, I loiter around, pretending to be in any way helpful. And, naturally, rubberneck at the surroundings, automatically framing all I see - click, click, click.
- Look, - I say, taking a cigarette from Tony, - someone couldn't finish a hopscotch game.
- Not even the game - they couldn't finish the drawing, - he nods in agreement.
The sidewalk is, indeed, divided into squares, but the artist never got a chance to write the numbers. Maybe they were called for lunch, or just got clipped by the ears for damaging public asphalt.
On the other hand, we, two overgrown fools, don't care about the rules. No one will call us for lunch. And it's pretty hard to smack our ears.
Drunk with a sudden (like thirty years ago) and still captivating permissiveness, sunny wind, tobacco smoke and the weight of paints in our bags, I pull the box of chalks from Tony's pocket and squat next to the first square, confident in my intention to write a tremendous number 1. Bright-blue, like the sky in the puddles under our feet, or yellow, like the joyful spring sun, or green, like the future, not yet visible, foliage, or red, like Tony's old coat. However, as I pick up the chalk, all ideas disappear, and, for an unknown reason, I cover the entire square in blue. Not satisfied with the result, I shake out the leftover chalks and begin drawing fishes. Because the blue square is quite indeed the sea. Based on the bright colors of my fishes - the Red Sea. Exampli gratia. Though, in a matter of minutes, the fishes take such weird forms that the sea is clearly gifted to aliens. Let them communicate with these fishes themselves, cause human race, presented by me, gives up.
- Wow! - says Tony.
He already finished his cigarette, and now wants to enter the fight.
The second square Tony confidently shades with green and blue, and I already know that it will be Venice, the one he is so crazy about. Quickly, the colorful houses rise from the water; however, instead of gondolas and motor boats, the landscape suddenly fills with winged creatures, looking both like humans and foxes.
- Mother of God, who are they? - I ask dazedly.
Tony laughs:
- No idea. They came here themselves and decided to be. It's not my place to judge.
- Well, then let my fishes live in their waters, - I say, - They perfectly match to your foxes, I think.
- True, - agrees with me Tony, moving the box so I could also take chalks.
The third and fourth square we paint simultaneously, almost racing. Tony, of course, is the champion on this competition - he is a professional. He gets up, stretches, and observes the results with pleasure.
- Oh wow! What is it? - he asks me.
- A city map, I guess, - I reply uncertainly, setting aside purple chalk, - Right, the map. You know, the one with tour paths for tourists. Every day it is drawn on the city wall. And at night, the rain washes the picture away. Which is why in the morning comes a duty artist and paints a new one. He, of course, doesn't really remember what was on the wall yesterday. To tell you the truth, he doesn't even try to remember, drawing whatever streets he wants. But tourists can still use this map: while the artist draws his lines, the city changes to match them.
- Well, then there should be two artists, - Tony says, - Firstly, the man can't work every day. Secondly, then there is even more changes and chaos. And everyone is happy.
His drawing in the fourth square perfectly matches this statement. On the surface two very pleased winged fox-humans, a bit - as much as it's possible with their fox faces - similar to us, levitate over the city-lake, with large red mugs in their hands.
- They are drinking coffee, no doubt, - I say.
- Naturally. Whatever you look and wherever you live, it can't happen without coffee.
We might as well just go for coffee now - we wanted to, anyway, - but instead Tony begins to roll another cigarette, and I paint the fifth square. Its impossible to stop.
- What is it? - asks Tony, - It's beautiful, but I understand nothing.
- Probably, it's a book. Or rather their version of books. When you continuously fly above water, it's great to have some fun things reflect in it. For example, books with illustrations. It's also better to prepare the texts on the clouds, in the mirrored way, so that they reflect as needed.
- Alright, - Tony nods. He gives me a cigarette, grabs the chalks, and, while I relax, quickly draws flying writers in the sixth square. They carefully cover the clouds in reflected letters.
- Yep, that's exactly how they work, - I nod and begin the seventh square. Toni takes the eighth.
I draw streams of colorful wind above a rich blackness of coastal fruit gardens, and Tony works on the main square of the city, where underwater trees grow - so tall that tired creatures can relax on their branches, expanding high above the waters.
In the ninth square, I draw a bridge, but not between two riversides - between the earth and the sky. Precisely like the Old London Bridge, it is covered in buildings, at least on the visible part. What happens above the clouds? I don't know. It's not my business.
Tony is still drawing, so I roll the cigarettes. After finishing the last, tenth square, he takes the rolling machine and, stunned, freezes looking at the skies. I observe his picture, and, finally, ask:
- So... what is it?
- A map, probably, - Tony smiles, - But not the city map like yours, but how to get there. From here, I mean. In case of an emergency.
- Wow, - I say, peering at the drawing, - wow.
What else can you say?
We sit on the edge of the road and smoke. Honestly, it is a bit cold outside, since our friend wind has returned. While we were drawing, he relaxed, and now he is entirely ready to blow again.
Honestly, we should get our butts off the edge of the cold road and go to the coffeehouse or home. But we are so tired that for now, we can only smoke in the icy sunny wind and blissfully smile, looking at our work.
A girl, about ten years of age, exits the apartment house. A ginger girl in an old red coat, chubby enough to earn a nickname "bomb" or something like that. She has a waist-long ginger braid, round green eyes, straight forehead and such a forceful chin that no one would've wanted to be her hypothetic enemy. In the left hand, she holds a gray knitted hat; she probably took it off just a minute ago. In the right hand, she holds a flat round box, that one could surely use like a bat. Her face almost screams her uncompromising intention to play hopscotch in the squares she, herself, diligently drew before lunch; so they belong to her only; so no one disturbs jumping or laughs at the mistakes.
When she sees my and Tony's pictures, the girl freezes in amazement. For like five seconds, not more. Then she lands her bat on the first square, straight on the head of one of my fishes. And begins to jump.
The girl jumps very delicately. Stands for a long time in each square, preparing and calculating the next move. She tries hard - maybe to save the pictures, or to get perfectly precise movements. She seems to succeed at both.
Reaching the ninth square, the girl freezes and observes the tenth. Finally, instead of jumping, she carefully pushes the bat with her colorful boot towards the edge between the squares.
There, the bat slowly crawls on the edge, and slowly moves farther. There... hell, where is it?
The curvy girl in a red coat stands in the ninth square, on my bridge between the earth and the sky. She confusedly examines the tenth, on which nothing lies, except for Tony's picture. A flat white box couldn't possibly mix with the image. And yet, it's not there.
The girl drops her gray hat on the ground. Automatically puts the end of the braid in her mouth. Thinks. Squats down and observes the picture. Carefully, touches it with her hand. Finally, she stands up and makes a step.
We look at her as if we were enchanted.
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what do you want to be when you grow up?
as a kid, i heard this question countless times and i’d be rich enough to buy myself a jolly meal if a penny came with it. but what do i really want to be when i grow up? my very first answer at five would be, “i want to be a painter!” and so i wrote it in my kindergarten yearbook. my teacher saw it and asked, “what kind of painter?” with a look that read she equated it being a painter of buildings and other constructions. my already six-year-old self by then thought, how could this human, who i call my ‘teacher’, be that absurd? not that i don’t like painting buildings because i have always wanted to try it, like those you see in bgc. what i meant though was to be a painter of scenery, portraits, flowers — all those stuff! i brushed off my encounter with her and proceeded in getting my picture taken wearing a white toga for our yearbook pictorial. i’ve always wanted to become a painter or do any form of art since the moment i discovered crayons, colored pencils, oil pastels, watercolors, paint brushes, and all those belonging to that category. so every birthday, christmas, and random occasion, those were the gifts i’d usually receive and i’d pretend i’m surprised as to not kill the joy of opening presents. don’t get me wrong, though. i have always appreciated the thought and effort that is given and exerted. i also participated in every coloring contest there was and while i made sure to win so mommy and daddy would be proud, i enjoyed every moment of it as well because coloring and drawing were the most enjoyable activities for me. and not to brag here but i always win (or at the least, end up in the top three). i knew it was my niche, my element, my forte, as a kindergartner. a painter is who i want to be and it was crystal clear. so as early as grade school, i knew i’d take up fine arts as my course in college at whatever university i may end up with.
when i turned twelve, i still knew i wanted to be a painter but i found myself designing clothes in between or even during classes. i’d have sketchpads in my backpack but they were not for art class. they were with me so i can bring to life my random ideas, visions, and concepts at random parts of the day. so at that age and stage, i decided to become a fashion designer. that remained until high school. i was so passionate about it to the point that i voluntarily designed prom dresses for friends just because i get sudden bursts of creativity and i wanted to dress them up. some people did not understand the dedication i had for my craft and hobby, but creating something out of my bare hands kept my soul breathing and growing. and so i do not need to explain myself to anyone whose opinion do not matter. “those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind”, as the saying goes. so i read more fashion blogs, researched backgrounds of famous designers, and reflected on the latest seasons of brands i adore. along the way, i have found “allies” in my high school who understood my passion for fashion and it was great comfort to me. they come with the names of “jennifer” and “dwayne” and both remained good friends to me until today. they are now more fashionable, sophisticated, and chic. i’d like to think of that way with myself, too. anyway, back to my story, i decided to take up fashion design and on my senior year in high school, i filled up entrance forms of colleges which specialized in it. my second choice was fine arts and i knew which universities that offered best programs for it.
but on a twist of fate, the university my parents planned for me to attend did not offer fashion design... nor fine arts. oopsy daisy! what a tough dilemma for a teenage girl to face! i knew in my heart that those were the only courses i wanted to take since my heart was set on those fields. how can i spend years sitting in classes and learning a course that is not of my slightest interest, right? “that is how you slowly kill your soul”, my sixteen-year-old self told me and i agreed with her. that was like committing suicide internally. so i did not take university exams seriously. i dreaded them. in fact, i drew on the scratch papers inserted in questionnaires. sorry, parents! see, this is why i did not like becoming an adult! i got very anxious in making an “important life decision” for i know it will either make or break my future. i wanted to run away from it so i procrastinated it, and yes, cried over it. my last option was the Man above. i prayed so hard each night that i may make the right decision and counted on my lucky stars as well. it even became my 11:11 wish! yes, i believe in it. considering also that it was 2012 that time, “11:11, make a wish” was a slogan written all over the internet. that was an angel number after all and angels are to help us. but that’s another story.
fast forward to college, i ended up in a green and white university located in taft avenue with a mascot famously called, “green archer”. no, my course was neither of my top two choices. no, i did not also want to become a psychologist nor a psychiatrist. and no, my parents did not choose my course for me. so you may wonder, how and why? i honestly don’t know too but if it was God’s answer to my prayer, then so be it. all i know was, when i was still contemplating what course to take, a random thought struck me like a light bulb moment. it was during one beautiful orangey afternoon while our car passed by luna street in iloilo city. i recalled thinking, what if i try a course that can answer my what ifs and hows? the spark of the thought lingered on me. so when i got home, i opened the manual of courses in the college of liberal arts and the page flipped on bachelor of arts major in psychology. not so bad, i thought. i wrote it down as my second choice in the application form while the first one was bachelor of arts major in communication arts (the closest i can get to my original top two choices). and that’s it. come what may. as what filipinos would also chant in making tricky life decisions, “bahala na si batman”. so please mr. batman, don’t fail me and make sure joker doesn’t get in the way. but deep down inside, in the innermost of my heart, i had faith that God will take care of my situation and turn it around for the best.
to cut the story short, i took up ab psychology but told myself that if i didn’t like the first semester of majors, i would shift to communication arts or what available course there is for my liking. i cannot commit internal suicide, right? that was when another twist of fate happened. i enjoyed my majors and so i decided to stay in my course. who knew i’d really develop an interest in psychology? i couldn’t quite believe it, too, and truth be told, i studied my lessons diligently and listened to lectures attentively. but i still painted, drew, and designed at home. i only stopped diary-writing and journaling which i have been religiously doing since i was ten. college was a jungle and i am a busy bee, i would say as an excuse to myself. okay, whatever floats your boat, self. college life really got a toll on me. it was a period of adjustmemt, growth, and discovery. i could not sit down long enough to process my thoughts before another requirement and responsibility came rushing along. thank God for giving me friends in the halls of green and white! they were the few, who i did not even expect to develop friendship with in the first place, but became my home away from home and made me permanently decide to stay in my course. i am contented and comforted by their company and so college became one of my most fun chapters ever. they were happy days when i look back but even happier on thursdays, if you know what i mean. life is indeed full of surprises.
what now after college? that degree was nothing but a piece of paper. yes, it was a privilege but i realized it’s hard work and determination that take you places with consistent prayer. what do i want to be now? funny how this question still haunted me and as all grown-up as i appear to be, i did not have a clear answer to it yet. part of me still wanted to be a painter or a fashion designer but i also wanted to simply answer “i just want to be happy” which was very vague. i guess what i meant to say was to be in a state of happiness. but then o learned that happiness is only a part of a spectrum of feelings and emotions that we humans experience. there is also sadness, anger, fear, and contempt to name some and we have to go through each one of them. that’s what makes us human, after all. another part of me also wanted to become a lifestyle writer but my only experience in writing were few feature writing awards from contests i have joined in grade school. not enough. suddenly, i realized i wanted to be a pre-school teacher. finally. a career related to my chosen course. how satisfying it would be to mold young minds and hearts? i believe early intervention makes a huge difference in a child’s development of morals and values so it would be great honor to be a part of one’s formative years. for some odd reason though, it did not push through. so scratch that for now. i’ll save my empathy and nurturing nature later on if i really get the chance to be a pre-school teacher or when i become a mother. i had a “sure and secure” job in a bank back then so “why risk it?” adults would point out. uh-oh. how sad that they have let the child in them die! but again, inam not in the position to judge anyone who stays and settles in a “sure and secure job” if that’s how they can make a living.
now, i work for my father. i’ve always known this time would come and so i welcome it. the very least i can do to give back to my parents is to be of their helping hand. the fourth commandment even said, “honor your parents” and so shall i do. what i want to be is still unclear to me but i am secured with the faith that as long as i do what is right and do not step on anybody, i will become who i am supposed to be. so if you ask me, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” my answer is, whoever and wherever life shapes and takes me. i realized i cannot just answer that question based on life stages unless i am royalty. but even royals can still abdicate their thrones! so there. we always have a choice. why do you think God gifted us, humans, willpower unlike animals? because through it, we can choose to do what is right and not base our decisions on pure instinct as what animals only have. through willpower and steadfast spirit, we can become the persons God has called us to be. maybe i’d end up with any of those professions that i have mentioned — or maybe not. but there is no need to dwell on things only heaven knows the answer. meanwhile, i can choose to paint my days the way i like them to be, make life as my canvas, and place God as my inspiration. so ‘til then, i’ll keep on painting.
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Cutie Reviews: NMNL March 19
Okay, I wanted to let you guys know that I’m probably going to be moving. Long story short our land owner gave us an ultimatum we don’t agree with, and we only have this month to find places, check them out, pick one, pack, and get moved. We might be able to extend this to September, but we’re not sure. A month seems like a long time but not when you can only work on it a few days of the week.
I was devastated when I was told this back on Friday, I felt really sad and angry over the whole thing. But at the same time there is actually a whole, HUGE list of positives in this move; like a bigger home, an actual porch and backyard, I can modify my room to fit the current me instead of the me that moved in almost 20 years ago, we’ll finally go through things we’ve been putting off, central cooling~
Basically, I just wanted to keep you guys updated so if my activity slows down you know why.
“Tired of the cold? Don’t worry, spring is on its way! Everything is coming to life: flowers start blooming and colors around us are becoming more vibrant. That’s why in March’s box we’ve included Japanese and Korean beauty products that are also giving off vibrant vibes so that you can create colorful and fun spring looks!“
Contest Prizes
This month, the winners would get Cherry Blossom cleansing oil, and 5 hyaluronic acid face masks.
Glam Gift
This month the glam gift seems to be focusing on pretty pastel colored items for the face. The two featured brands are Missha and Nihonshu.
Meanwhile, this months horoscope is a Must-Try Activity. For example, mine (Libra) suggests a new recipe to work on cooking skills, my friend is a Gemini and it suggests she take friends on a picnic. The featured celebrity is JooE from kpop group Momoland, who is also the face of the makeup brand Baker7.
Hair Curler Set & Mineral Ion Hairbrush
First we have this unique set of hair curlers (you get 4 of both pieces), that bind the hair over night to produce lovely waves without the use of a hot curling wand. Depending on how you use them, you might also produce curls instead... which happened to me because I didn’t realize I was putting my hair into it wrongly. The book gives you no instructions, and the back of the packaging just made it look like gibberish to me. You’re supposed to like... flatten/spread out the hair, if you just wrap it around you get curls.
Rating: ♥ ♥
So curls or waves, I’ve used this twice and as a warning, this probably wouldn’t be a good item if you get headaches easily. I got one both times of use. Once I wore them over night (9 hours give or take), the second time about a few hours, and I actually got the same results: curls that hold for a limited amount of time and still look kind of messy.
But to be fair, you do get a result. If you want it to last then you'll need spray or something to hold it.
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Our next item is this mineral infused mini-brush to repair and nourish the hair by stimulating the blood flow. If used repeatedly each day, there should be a noticeable improvement with split ends. The brush was available in pink or blue.
Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
As a brush, I use types like this (my current is a really old bamboo brush that I was obsessed with and need a new one of) because any other type hurts me. Initially I thought it’s smaller size would make it difficult, and it did feel a little weird holding but the more I use it, the more natural it feels. I also feel like there has been some difference in my hair since using it a few days ago, so I think it works.
Cake Hand Cream
Our next item is a Baker7 Cake Hand Cream, which was available in Pink Berry, Banana, and Blueberry. The creams are made with ingredients that brighten, prevent aging, and protect the skin.
Out of the 3 I could have got, I’m sure you can tell I got the one I really wanted x3 it has a really pretty pale pink color, and it has a faint strawberry scent, it kind of reminds me of strawberry chocolate; and a very light hint of banana.
Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Well besides the adorable packaging, scent, color, it’s pretty much a typical hand cream. My hands feel really soft and nice after using it, and it seems to soak into the skin pretty quick so your hands don’t get greasy.
Candy Lip Tint
Another BK7 product, this time with JooE on the package as you can see. This lip tint comes in 3 delicious candy colors; from cherry red to red orange to coral. They’re also scented.
I think the creative design of the package was adorable, but after you take away the stick you’re left with the top half; so I was like “how does this open? Is it just liquid? is it on something?“
Well here’s my answer; it’s a wand. According to the back of the package I got Cherry Red. I agree there is a scent, but it doesn’t bring cherry to mind. Initially I was getting like... cinnamon? But now I can’t really place it.
Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
I really like the unique packaging of the product. It’s really cute looking and fun to use, and the wands brush is very soft on the lips so the product glides on with little effort. It does tint though, so yeah it did take me like five washes to get it off my hand, and even now it’s still barely on my hand. On the lips it seems to come off easier, but you’re left with a pretty pink hue.
One oddity is that I noticed that when applied, my lips feel weird. I’m not really sure why that is. I did notice it lacked a foul taste though, which I appreciated. A lot of tints and “lip tattoo” products taste horrible.
Etude House Eye Shadow
Our next item is the Etude House “Look At My Eyes eye shadow“, available in red or pink with an adorable heart pattern in the product ♥ As you can see by my finger, the product is a bit of a... smoky copperish red color and has a vibrant shimmer with sparkle.
Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
The product applies very easily, you can use it as is or build it up. I feel like the color would work with a lot of things, and I can’t get over how nice it looks. The hearts etched in the product is very cute, and I love how the container is clear.
Color Mascara
Our next item is this colored mascara, available in either red or blue (like delicious snowcones~) which as you can see is by Crayon Touch-me, like the lip product in February’s box. Ironically, this one says it’s made in Taiwan, rather than Korea or Japan.
As of late colored mascara seems to be growing as a trend, and I really like the concept but worry I can’t pull it off. But given my hair color, I feel like this would actually be a really nice color to compliment it.
Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥
The image on the package shows the product being applied all over the eyelashes, while the book suggests giving your lashes an ombre look with it. I’m not really sure a full lash is possible, because the product is fairly scarce on the wand (which the book also shows) and in most cases, applying too much mascara makes your lashes clumpy and gross. I noticed that I had an easier time applying the product with my eye shut and doing it in swooping down motion.
But if you don’t mind a medium-minimum look, then the gradient/ombre is pretty good, and you can tell the product is there. It’s definitely noticeable though, and I’m planning on using it when I go to the mall, either later today or tomorrow.
Facial Cleansing Brush & Animal Mask
Okay, so any long-time readers will recognize the facial brush. I recently got in some boxes back and I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend it if you can find it! It’s super-soft and feels amazing on the skin, and your face will thank you.
In saying that I won’t be reviewing it since I already have.
The next and final item though is an adorable animal mask by berissom: available in either collagen kitty/tiger, Vitamin C + arbutin sheep, blackberry panda, or hyaluronic acid puppy. These are called animal masks because they resemble a specific animal. All you do is wear it 15-20 minutes, then pat the remainder of product onto the skin.
Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥
In terms of scent, it smells really good in a pleasant sense. Oddly enough, I get a combination of the store Target and shampoo. It was very wet and moisturizing when I put it on but it ended up being a lot longer than my face actually is, so I probably wasted three minutes or so fiddling with it. Because of that (I assume anyway) the ask dried very quickly, so I barely wore it for even 15 minutes before it got on my nerves.
But my face did feel better than it did prior to using it.
♥ Cutie Ranking ♥
Content - 4.5 out of 5. Everything is practical and I like the items a lot. I just think some of them could have performed a little better.
Theme: 5 out of 5. Yeah, I guess I see it. I mean, the items are very vibrant looking and fun, I’m not sure they all fit spring well but I do like how all of the items were in pink-red and blue themes, to match the cover design.
Total Rank: 9 out of 10. I’m pretty happy with this box, I liked it a little less than the previous box, but I still thought it was really good. As I noted above, there was some minor issues, but nothing was useless and I know I’ll use these.
♥ Cutie Scale ♥
1. Mineral Hairbrush - I was kind of surprised by this decision, but I actually really really like this. I’ll probably be using it for now, if I can force myself to throw away my old brush...
2. Eye Shadow - the color is really pretty and I love how the piece looks; the product reminds me a lot of my favorite eye shadow palette to use.
3. Cake Hand Cream - Again the packaging says a lot, I love it! It smells so good it makes me want to eat shortcake... or strawberry chocolate.
4. Candy Lip Tint - I’m still not sure about the scent, but the color is really pretty. I can’t get over the unique package~
5. Color Mascara - I really like how it looks, I just wish it was possible to get a fully coated eyelash without having to use so much product...
6. Animal Mask - The package is very cute, and the smell was lovely. But the quality wasn’t doing it for me.
7. Facial Cleansing Brush - I’m not rating it low because of quality, if I went by quality this would probably be the #1 item! I just put it here because I already have it, and because I really liked the other items too.
8. Hair Curlers - They’re very unique, and although they are a little uncomfortable and can induce headaches, they aren’t unbearable. I would probably reach for my curling wand over these though.
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I'm game, at least partially because reading your list got "Shining Collection" stuck in my head. XD
1) Fanfiction. Writing is my passion and my vocation, and I've been doing it since I could hold a crayon, so I will never feel guilty for anything involving doing it. Sometimes I may feel a tiny twinge because I "should" be working on my original stuff, never mind that I've got over a dozen AUs that are close enough to original if I "file off the serial numbers", but in the words of the Prophet:
And sometimes it helps get the creativity flowing to work on something where the characters' personalities and histories and relationship dynamics are already established so I can get on with telling the story. Nothing to feel guilty about there.
2) Anime/Manga. Having survived to the "ripe old age" of thirty-five, I have of course heard the usual detractors who think "cartoons" and "comic books" are for kids and unmotivated teenagers. These people are what I like to call "WRONG". There is no upper age limit on enjoying watching Sailor Moon transform in a splash of color and sparkles, or giant mecha ripping into each other, or for retracing the familiar adventures of Cutter Blood of Ten Chiefs and his family. I refuse to let anyone make me feel ashamed for enjoying watching Doc McStuffins or Diego and Dora or Dinosaur Train right along with my kids, why should I let them shame me over enjoying Laputa: Castle In The Sky or Gravitation or Yami no Matsuei or Voltron?
3) Supernatural. I resisted getting into this fandom, and good gods does the show have some issues, but I love the characters to pieces. I've watched the show, studied the episodes in detail for the fics I write, and I can rattle off a dozen things that could be better in any given episode, but you will never get me to say that I don't love this stupid, inconsistent show. So there.
4) Glitter. I'm a grown-ass adult of inconsistent gender. I can damn well like iridescent lip gloss and body glitter and sparkly nail polish if I want to! Why should my kids get all the fun of the pastel rainbow and silver glitter rain boots?
5) Candy. In a culture that's turned fat shaming into a horrific and manipulative artform, someone who goes to the gym and eats salads instead of pizza and lean curry instead of fried chicken is often expected to eschew desserts, especially when the person in question is lactose intolerant and can't have ice cream. Screw that! Gimme my chocolate covered espresso beans and my honey drops and Wintergreen mints and anise drops. Give me strawberry Twizzlers and giant bags of M&Ms. Give me my tasty little morsels of sugar and sunshine. I brush my teeth twice a day, I can have a bloody lollipop in between if I want to!
6) Country music. Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson and the Dixie Chicks and Jana Stanfield and all those songs that you think have to be coming out of Nashville even though they're sung by Bon Jovi. Take me home, country roads, past those ghost riders in the sky waving goodbye to Earl, because the trick is to learn to enjoy the ride because we can. I love a lot of different kinds of music, but country is the one that gets me the most flack and it's not fair. There's too much awesome in the genre to let someone shame me for liking it because some of it is crap.
How's that for starters? And yes, "Shining Collection" is still stuck in my head. XP
A long time ago, I had a therapist who asked me a very simple question. In 2004, he asked me, “what would make you happy right now, this very minute?”
And I thought about it and said, “buying a plane ticket to San Fransisco to go to Yaoi-con and meet my favorite manga artist.”
(Side note in the interest of being a huge geek : it was Yamane Ayano, who was making her first overseas appearance, and wrote about the experience extensively in the omake for her Viewfinder series several times. To which I discovered later actually mentioned me briefly, and not directly by name, since I’d been one of her convention staff escorts.)
ANYWAY, my therapist asked me if I could do that, and I said, yes. So he said to do it. So, I did. And I came back after that weekend and told him that I had had the best time of my life out there.
So, he was amused by discovering how big of a geek I was. And also acknowledged the reason not a whole lot of people knew at the time. Geeks were starting to mainstream then, but nothing like today.
And he suggested that every now and then I should make a list of things that unapologeticlly make me happy. Not stuff I’ll talk to my mom about or whatever. Stuff I was a total geek for and probably kept to myself or even felt a measure of shame over.
Therefore, I present my current list with an air of :
1. J-Pop. The more pop, the more synth, the more I want it. In fact, give me like, anime theme songs. Or the whole soundtrack for Gravitation. I’ll also take the other end of the spectrum with Macross Plus, or frankly, anything by Kanno Yoko.
2. Opera. Fuck, I love opera. I’ve loved it since I was 11 years old and heard it for the first time.
3. Andrew Lloyd Webber. Eat me, I will watch all of his musicals.
4. Romance Novels. Bodice rippers. Beefy dudes falling for average women who are all around better them no matter the time period. Dark Ages, Old West, A Hundred Years Later In Space, women being amazing and causing men to pop inappropriate boners for them all over the place.
5. Supernatural. I realize I’m preaching to the choir here, but holy shit, it’s embarrassing how much I goddamn love that show.
6. Disney and Pixar films. I will watch them with or without my daughter and cry every time.
7. ゲイーコミ/BL/Yaoi manga, etc. Not saying there aren’t so so so so many titles that push through all the wrong ideas about two men having sex and falling in love, especially during the boom in the late 90′s-mid-00′s, but I was published as a BL Manga expert and historian in an actual, real, respected anthropology journal. That’s how much I knew about the whole genre and its roots when it took my interest. So, yes, I will read FAKE, Gravitation, Yubisaki no Koi, Viewfinder, and, Haru wo Diete Ita a million times.
8. Fanfiction. I’m 37 years old, I won’t be embarrassed by this anymore. In fact, the last time I dated a man, I told him I wrote fics and gave him my screen name (as a challenge) when he asked, and he live-texted me his reading of Protect and Serve, and actually really liked it.
That’s all I can think of right now, but it’s a good start? I was so depressing earlier, I thought this would help!
Anyone else wanna join my in sharing their “refuse-to-call-them-guilty-pleasures” pleasures? XD
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One of the things that I love most about being an artist and designer is the great variety of supplies and techniques that are available to us for creating. With platforms such as YouTube and Facebook, we are living at a time when we have exposure to many different types of art materials like we have never seen before. While some look at places like Facebook and other social media sites as negative places that take up a great deal of our time, I choose to use it as a place to meet people, share ideas and make friends with others who enjoy creating and learning. As with anything, it is what we make it. I choose to make my online experience inspiring and fun and positive. We follow where we focus.
Just over a year ago, I created my own group on Facebook that I called “Let’s Paint with Sheila Landry” (https://www.facebook.com/groups/paintwithsheila/). In a short year, we are now over 1500 members and it is a wonderful place to ‘meet’ and share positive ideas regarding painting, drawing, and just about any type of art or creating. I am thrilled at the quality of the group members and I find that they contribute not only to each others’ lives but to my own life as well. It is one of my favorite places to visit on the internet.
Like most artists and creative people, I have quite a hoarding of beautiful supplies. While laypeople sometimes don’t understand the need for so many supplies or the difference between say colored pencils and watercolor pencils, those of us who use these products know that they each have their own function in the art world, and while they may look similar to someone who doesn’t create art, their characteristics are quite specialized.
A few weeks ago, when we flipped the calendar to 2019 I made a resolution to myself. While organizing and taking inventory of the many supplies I have accumulated, I realized that many of them were sitting in my cupboard untouched. The realization came to me that my own fears have thus far prevented me from using them. It was then that I made a vow to myself that the year 2019 would be “The Year of Discovery” for me as far as my own art was concerned. While sets of paint and pencils always looked beautiful when they were pristine and new, I knew that I needed to force myself to dig into those beautiful boxes and actually USE the supplies that I spent so much money on.
But that was easier said than done.
Some of you may ask what was stopping me. After all, hadn’t I been creating for most of my life? Hadn’t I made some things that I was really proud of? Hadn’t I achieved some level of success with my art?
These statements may be true, but somehow it didn’t quell the fears I had of using ‘new’ tools. Those (sometimes expensive) blank sheets of paper can be pretty scary. After all – some cost over $1.00 per sheet!
When I realized how ridiculous that way of thinking was, it was then I decided to “Go for it!” It was time to overcome my fears and venture out to explore new things. How else was I ever going to learn?
So that is my goal and I hope to be showing many different types of artwork in the future. I hope that I inspire you to do the same.
Last week, I received my issue of the digital magazine The Pixelated Palette. It is a monthly magazine that includes many wonderful designs for decorative painters (you can check into it at their website here: https://thepixelatedpalette.com/
On the cover was a design by one of my friends and mentors – Peggy Harris (www.peggyharris.com). The design was a cute Valentine bunny called “Be Mine” :
I fell in love with it immediately and KNEW I had to paint it. I did so as soon as time allowed and painted it using DecoArt Americana Acrylic paint (www.decoart.com), as I showed in my previous blog post.
I painted it on my own surface (SLDPK710 – Elegant Portrait Oval Ornament) available on my website. I was thrilled with how it came out.
The bunny was quick and easy, and simple enough to finish in an evening. So I thought it would be the perfect project to use for me to practice using my other types of supplies. I pulled out my Mission Gold Watercolor paint by Majillo and thought I would give it a go with them.
I also used just a touch of the Paul Rubens metallic watercolor paints that I recently got:
I also just received a new watercolor sketchbook, which had 140 lb cold press paper. (The cold press watercolor paper is the ‘bumpy’ paper) and I used that to recreate the bunny. I was happy with the result, and it really helped me ‘get to know’ my watercolor paint a little better. With each project I paint with it, I feel a bit more comfortable.
While it was not perfect, it was fun. You can’t see in the photo, but the banner, bow, and heart arrows are all painted with the shimmery metallic paint. It gave me the courage to keep going.
The next ‘medium’ that I decided to use was Inktense pencils by DerWent:
I have had this beautiful set for about three years now and barely touched them. The way you use them is to lay them down dry (color with them) and then use a brush and clean water to ‘activate’ them. They turn into beautiful, vibrant, permanent ink. They also come in block form (Which I have as well) and you can draw with them as you use crayons, or just use a brush and clean water to brush them and pick up color from them as you would brush onto a pan of watercolor paint:
They come in 72 colors, as do the pencils. The colors for both versions are identical. The blocks are therefore far more economical, as they go much further than the pencils. But it depends on which type of drawing you plan to do. I want to note that it is very difficult to tell the true color by looking at the blocks or pencils. They change quite a bit and for example, the “Mustard” block or pencil looks quite GREEN, while it is a light brown. So I created a color chart and swabbed the colors with water to see what they would look like while using them.
If anyone wants a blank sheet of this, email me and I will email you one. I used this ‘cheat sheet’ quite a bit in order to choose the color I had in mind. It helped me a great deal.
In any case, for my purposes, I used the pencils this time. As I mentioned, the Inktense pencils turn to INK after being wet. Unlike watercolors, this means that if you re-wet them, they color does NOT move. This allows lots of layering without disturbing the layers underneath. But it means that if you go too dark too quickly, you may have a dark mess on your hands. The colors are very strong with Inktense, so you need to use them sparingly and build layers. It was a great exercise in an entirely different method for me to try and I did enjoy it quite a bit. I was pleased with the outcome:
The ‘graininess’ of the paper helped add some texture on the fur. I again used my sketchbook and the 140 lb watercolor paper.
The final method that I decided to try this design was to use my Carbathello pastel pencils by Stabilo. I love using pastel pencils and have both them and Conte a Paris pastel crayons, that I usually use together. But for this, I wanted to try with just the pencils.
I used Pastelmat pastel paper by Clairefontaine, which makes a HUGE difference in creating with pastels. Not only does it allow many layers, but it ‘grabs’ the pastel so that you don’t have a load of colored dust to deal with. I worked on it in my “white studio” without having any dust issues whatsoever.
This time I was really pleased with the result. Even though the Carbothellos only come in 60 colors (it seems a lot, but there are no colors like soft pink, medium turquoise, etc.) I was able to blend several colors together to create the shades and tones that I desired. To me, this was probably my favorite of all four drawings. You can see right away how beautifully it blends:
. . . and the finished drawing.
When you put them side-by-side, you can see the subtle (or not-so-subtle) differences:
I am really happy with ALL the versions, though, and in the few days that I created these designs, I learned a great deal.
I encourage you all to try this sometime. I think that sometimes people get hung up on finding “exact” colors for projects they are painting. But really, if you start to just pull colors and make your own mixes, you learn not only about color theory, but you gain confidence in choosing colors for other projects you are creating.
I hope you enjoyed seeing this comparison. I hope it inspires you to spread your creative wings and try something that you are afraid of trying. What have you got to lose?
Have a happy week ahead!
Different Strokes One of the things that I love most about being an artist and designer is the great variety of supplies and techniques that are available to us for creating.
#decoArt#Decorative Painting#Inktense#learning#Mission Gold#ornaments#Painting#Patterns#Paul Rubens#Tutorial#watercolors
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hi holly! i was going to message you but then I got too shy, do you have any tips for someone who wants to start painting? i know you're an artist and thought you might be able to help, I really have no idea how to start, I'm just a clueless newborn fawn :( if not thank you anyway for reading this!
hello lil fawn! im sorry that u got 2 shy! i would love to talk to u if u ever want to, oh pupper i have so much to say and its all fuckin shit but maybe it could be helpful! im not a teacher idk remember this is all my perspective and u should do what u feel u should do!firstly i think you need to look at making art in two separate ways that should inform one another and sometimes work together, but while youre first figuring out how u draw/paint i would suggest working more with the 'honest kind' though i know a thousand tutors who say the opposite!!!! the honest kind~~~the im sitting with some paper and idk fuckin know what media, i just found this chewed up crayon on the floor and im going to run it across the paper,the i feel like drawing a dog and im just going to draw it like fuck proportion just draw it and have fun fun fun draw so many dogs that you start laughing because this one has the longest snout and you're imaging he would make a knughling noise, but this one! has the roundest belly with the smallest legs and would plod around wowthe i am hurting or so happy or so obsessed with this one thing and i am just going to put it on the paperthe technical kind~~~~i dont know what resources you have access to but life drawing is invaluable, if u arent on a course that offers it then i'd highly suggest looking for sessions in your community that u can go to! im gonna assume ur alone in this and not on a course, i'd say research proportion, medias, other artists and how they work, i really dont know what to say for this but try to learn how to really look? and how to accurately draw an object or figure or whateverum go to public places and try to just draw people, practice practice practice im not really the right person to ask idk idkthe thing is~~~i know alot of people who have, and i did for years, not separate the two, sometimes not even engage in the 'honest kind' which is so sad because then everything is empty!!! its so fuckin flat!!! like i used to work on hyper real drawings and they were pretty but they were nothing? they werent excited, they wouldnt get anyone excited except for people to be in awe which is useless??? and im all for pretty, like if u want to design things like patterns for use that is no lesser than fine art (i mean im a designer so?) u just have to love ur craft or learn to love it and it might take forever but pal go go go! honestly you need to learn your process, its kinda very personal and very fun to work on,say mine is~~~for my bowl ladies (my really crumby art blog is @hgjosephine u can find examples there) : process lead, where i spend days and days in the ceramics room and teach myself how to throw pots but then learn how the clay moves and how it can be manipulated into non-traditional shapes, then from making shape i look for patterns across my work, analyse it and see how the shape feels feminine and that when i hold the they feel like wobbly stomachs, then also see how it reminds me of all of the many traditional paintings depicting women dancing naked in a circle, so figure out how to show this with illustration bla bla bla in other process lead projects i have sat for a week just fuckin drawing, using paint, mixing paints, seeing how they layer! how they can be translucent! what colours work! and my project will go on from thereOR often its research lead, where i spend weeks over sketchbooks filling them with thoughts, conversations with myself, article clippings, artist works that make me go wow!fuckin!what! and from there i get a thousand ideas and experiment with them and then just search out the good, the things that excite you and make you run home to tell everyone how EXCITED you are TIPS~~gouache is the king of layering and translucency and clean work? its my favourite paintone good paint brush is ur main man, if u can afford to then a £10+ brush (art is expensive, however it doesnt have to be this is just helpful, but tbh u could use a kitchen spoon to paint with and make the best thing ever!) also tiger sells some real cheap soft brushes dont leave ur brushes in the water 4 too long (lol @me) also dont let paint dry on ur brushes (particularly arylic the most evil dried paint) good paper is worth it!!!! when ur painting with water based paint u need a high gsm paper, i dont really paint with acrylic much but i think thats chill on most paper oil is an arsehole (v beautiful tho) and wants all sorts of paper prepping bc otherwise it will make the paper go weird and oily like chip shop paper however oil pastels r my fave pals!!!! and indian ink!!!!!! ink ink ink ink (play with water and ink, like putting water on the paper and then painting on ink in the wet its FUN) idk i just started talkin and didnt stop but good luck, have fun!!!!
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At heart, I am a passionate learner. I am 100 percent introverted in the sense that my inner world is my playground. I could stay there for hours. My passion for learning takes me in countless directions, and that is precisely why I don’t specialize in any one thing. And that is okay with me.
I grew up in Jersey City, which is right across the river from New York City. I grew up around other immigrants, which I believe gave me the ability to connect with people on so many levels. Despite our different ethnic backgrounds, we had a lot of the same struggles and goals. So basically, I am a city girl with a passion for learning and making connections.
I don’t remember creating for fun before 2014. I tell people that I discovered the world of papercrafting accidentally, but I am a big believer that everything happens for a reason. Getting into the world stamping and making handmade cards led me to discovering the world of coloring mediums. I have only ever used color pencils or crayons in school, and school was decades ago.
The only things in my stationary stash were pencils, pens, and erasers. In 2014, I invested in ink pads for stamping, color pencils, watercolors, and alcohol markers. When I get into a new hobby, I go all in. Before crafting, I was reading a lot and I still have so many books sitting on my custom-made bookshelves. I’m a bit of a collector. I get that from my father.
Initially when I started making cards, I focused on using alcohol markers to color because I believed they gave me more control. I didn’t get serious about watercoloring until this year (2018) after a fourteen-month hiatus from crafting due to marriage and working full-time. If I am being honest, it was also because I needed a break from the pressure I was placing on myself to do better.
I learned to let go. I learned to accept myself and accept where I am. I learned that it takes time, patience, and hard work. And I learned to focus on progress, not on feedback or numbers.
I can’t believe how much I love to watercolor. What I mean is that I can’t believe I didn’t start earlier when I had the tools within reach. I invested in artist quality watercolors around the time I had my daughter in mid-March of this year because I was not going to let a little human take away my passion for learning. I set all kinds of goals and start different “series” and then I stop. That’s because I am going with the flow. I like to try things out.
Anemones
In the last few months, I have invested in different watercolors — liquid, tube, pan, brush, marker, pencils, etc. I invested in other mediums as well — gouache, acrylics, and pastels. Most of my clothes may be neutrals, but I love color. I love surrounding myself with beautiful things. I want to try everything so I can learn and grow.
My favorite watercolors right now are Daniel Smith Extra Fine Watercolors. They were my biggest investment, and I am learning about each color slowly. I use various brushes, but my favorite has been the Escoda Reserva Travel Round 0 brush. I love detail work and having a sense of control. Most of the paper I now use is 100% cotton, cold-pressed, and 320gsm in weight without caring too much for the brand.
Since I live in the city and at home with a baby, much of my inspiration comes from reflection or online through Pinterest, Instagram, or just browsing online images. It also comes from the stamps I use. I have books, magazines, and prints that inspire me, too. I only got into sketching this year so freehand watercoloring is still new to me. I started sketching and watercoloring flowers, trying to learn depth, dimension, and details. I have a long way to go, but I am proud of my progress and proud for trying.
I also have a fascination with the fact that the world is so much bigger than we realize so I started watercoloring some landscapes, skies, and galaxies. They are not accurate representations, but realism isn’t my goal. It is through practice that I am trying to teach my eyes to relax so I can find more and more details that I have missed.
Every time I watercolor, I learn something new. It has taught me to be patient, merciful, compassionate, and to connect with my inner child and artist. It brings nature to me when I cannot go to it.
I don’t know where my watercolor practice will take me, and I admit that I do not commit to it daily. When I get tired, I learn to rest and not to quit. That is one thing I carry with me, knowing that I can pick it up anytime and always learn something new. You can set big goals, but make sure to break them down into small, attainable goals. Otherwise, you’ll feel easily overwhelmed or discouraged. Focus on your own progress because comparing to others makes no sense.
My life experiences and my cultural and religious backgrounds have made me a helper. I am a student that loves to help. Whenever I learn something new, I teach it to someone else and that helps us both. It is important to improve yourself whenever you can, but I believe that it is just as important to touch lives.
I have so much to learn and share, and that excites me beyond belief. Being able to create is a gift in and of itself. Embrace it, share it, and let it take you to places you’ve never gone before.
Rubeena Ianigro Blog Instagram Facebook Pinterest YouTube
GUEST ARTIST: “The Journey IS the Goal” by Rubeena Ianigro - #doodlewash #WorldWatercolorGroup #watercolor #watercolour At heart, I am a passionate learner. I am 100 percent introverted in the sense that my inner world is my playground.
#WorldWatercolorGroup#artist#artist postcards#doodlewash#featured#flowers#illustration#lettering#painting#watercolor#watercolour
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‘Mugen’ Analogue Experiment
In this session, I’m creating a flashing character design walk cycle, inspired by the works of animator Oscar Barany.
In response to my research into freelance animator Oscar Barany, I wanted to create a flashing character walk cycle, inspired by his ‘Mugen’ example.
The sequence is essentially a one-man exquisite corpse of exciting and rich character designs, drawn digitally in photoshop. Oringially, I had assumed the artist used the program to create the actual animation, but after chatting online, I found out that this wasn’t the case. Barany created a normal walk cycle in After Effects, using a character rigging tool named DUIK. ‘Once I'd got a nice looping walk cycle I rendered it out and I put that into photoshop and redrew each frame using the walk cycle as a guide.’
It Never Ends. (2017). Oscar Barany. Mugen.
I asked why he chose to create a walk cycle of this experimental nature for the project, if it was a stylistic choice or out of budgetary reasons. The artist chose a walk cycle due to limited time he had in which he could create a visual that would have ‘a lot of impact’. The project had no budget, Mugen was a music experiment from the start and so Barany was working on the sequence alongside other work. He used different styles for each frames because he wanted to ‘use it as a quick illustration challenge, and as an excuse to test out a load of different drawing styles’.
Oscar Barany. (2018).
Looking at the animation, I can see this. There’s a range of experimental character designs but they alll evidence new approaches and drawing styles. They’re all digital illustrations, of course, but the approach to character is different every frame. The collective used the different frames for different single covers out of economy - ‘the creative director realised we could use the different frames separately, so they were used in various campaigns for the project’.
Finally, I mentioned how I’m asking animators in the industry for an opinion of my work. ‘Looks like you’re on the right track practising walks, deffo read through the animator’s survival kit there’s a wealth of knowledge in there. A lot of people start with the feet and legs, and then do the rest after’. Here, Barany suggests that a walk cycle is a great challenge to start with, and the work I’m creating is interesting, atleast. His last comment, though, is something that I’ve never considered before: animate the legs first, and then add the torso, arms and head. This allows us as animators to focus on the leg and foot placement first, and then isolate the other parts.
What I find the most exciting part of Barany’s walk cycle is the very concept of it. Having the animation feature variations of a character design isn’t something I’ve seen before, and it’s very visually stimulating and engaging to us an audience. The flashing character designs asks us to pause the video, and appreciate each one. It’s almost like a challenge for the viewer, and that’s inherently engaging and fun. The flash of colours and styles give the animation a lucid feeling, matching the overall tone of the track It Never Ends very nicely.
I’ve already explored this digital, clean approach to character designs in my FMP, looking at my experiments in Character Animator for example. In response to this research and analysis, I wanted to create a flashing ‘mugen’ style walk animation, but challenge myself to use a range of traditional, analogue mediums and materials.
The process began, however, by creating a simple walk cycle using Photoshop. Like Barany, I wanted to create a looping walk animation that I’m happy with and then use these as a guide for the final frames. It was important that this walk possessed a different character from my other experiments, however, so sketched a few designs in my sketchbook. These were simple thumbnail sketches just exploring potential shapes and proportions, settling on a large, circular body, small head and long legs.
I wanted a design that contrasted my Michael walk animation in shape and proportions, and this did just that. Happy with this basic design, I moved into Photoshop and created a quick walk cycle, using my understanding of the movements that I’ve been able to grasp through my FMP. For the walk, I’m using a traditional frame by frame animation technique, just on a digital workspace rather than punched paper and a Lightbox. I’m not worried about any character design or perfect line quality here, just about getting a smooth walking motion that I can then use as reference.
Oscar created the template walk in After Effects with a rigging tool, but here I wanted to develop on from my photoshop animations and continue with the hand-drawn, traditional technique.
Whereas my Character Animator pieces were reserved in movements, with Michael having his hands in his pockets, and my stop motion tests showing a rather slow and tired character - I wanted this walk to have an excitement to it, almost like a leap from each step. It’s quite a smooth motion, but I was able to create this dramatic effect through empathising the extreme poses so my character raises his foot very high off the ground.
With this completed, I exported the animation frame by frame and printed these off, to use as a guide. Before jumping to the animation stage, I wanted to explore some potential ideas, materials and styles for the frames. In my sketchbook, I created some quick sketches of my character in different drawing styles and materials, sticking to a primarily analogue approach.
I found the crayon and charcoal sketches to be the most interesting here, due to the textural quality of the medium. In this animation, I wanted to create a clearly hand-drawn aesthetic, and I think embracing the obvious mark making style of these naive materials will help me to achieve this.
After setting a Lightbox up and some paper, I began re-drawing each frame, in a variety of styles, mediums and drawing approaches from biro to oil pastel.
In this process, I was able to create frames using traditional drawing styles using pencil, biro and finaliser, but also more experimental technwieus such as continuous line and charcoal markings. The point of this was to work fast, treating it as an excuse to play around with drawing tehcniwus and mediums that I’ve neglected to explore so far in this project. The purpose was to explore a range of drawing processes and mediums, and embrace the textural quality in comparison to the flat, minimal character designs I’ve already created.
I was able to record myself creating these frames, as a way to visually document the process instead of discussing each one at length. Personally, though, I feel like the oil pastel and charcoal frames were the most visually exciting and interesting, due to the inherently textural quality of the material. There’s a physicality to the medium that I’m really engaged by, and it’s this grainy, visually rough aesthetic that communicates hand-drawn and ‘analogue’ the best, I think.
Having produced these, I then scanned each of these into Photoshop, cleaned them up using a simple Levels edit and compiled them into a frame by frame sequence. This was the result, a collective walk cycle exploring a range of analogue mediums and materials.
The textural quality of the animation is what stands out to me as the most important element of the sequence. If we compare this to my digital animations, or my zoetrope experiments, there’s a rich physicality to the marks I’m making here. It’s what has the most potential, I think, in terms of development.
The flashing character designs work well, with the audience still being able to understand the character’s walk cycle. It’s an exquisite corpse of character designs, analogue materials and styles ranging from a crayon-coloured superhero to a loose charcoal sketch. The flashing character designs work to make the animation visually engaging to the audience - it hooks your attention straight away, and asks you to take a closer look at each one. I’ve been able to successfully convey the ‘leap’ walk from my digital reference, and the animation loops smoothly.
Fellow student Jack mentioned the effective quality of the animation, and how it successfully represents my project as a whole. The experimentation of analogue drawing materials is something I’d neglected to do until now, and the use of oil pastel and charcoal is something he identified as exciting and visually quite engaging. This is something I wanted to explore - up until now my animations themselves have been singular pieces, which I want to curate into an exquisite corpse. Here, however, I wanted to take a more simplistic approach to the idea, putting a focus on the walk whilst also being a frankensteins-monster of character designs.
The sequence, though, isn’t without it’s problems. The most glaring issue for me was the brush frame, which juts out from the others due to the bold and large brush strokes. It’s a little jarring, I think, and the blend of a digital Illustrator-based frame doesn’t really fit with the sequence. On the whole, though, its quite entertaining and the walk animation itself is successful. I’ll be using this in the final animation, and the textural quality of the oil pastel frames inspired me to explore the medium further.
As a development of this animation, I sat by the beach and produced a series of quick observational sketches using the material. I’ve been told to draw people at cafes, but I’m not quite that confident yet, and drawing people down by the beach has brought me success already in my FMP, so I thought I’d continue.
The sketches aren’t realistic - there were no green or red people walking down the beach - I was focusing on their body shape, proportions and poses mid-walking. It was a way to continue to explore a walk, but also get inspiration for more character designs - drawing from life in the process. The sketches I created aren’t accurate to life, but they serve as an interesting document of the people I’ve seen, to refer to for character designs. From this, I was able to capture a range of shapes, sizes and proportions and was developing on the rich textural quality and bright, colourful nature of oil pastels as a medium.
Having created those, I then produced a walk cycle using just oil pastels, using the same walk cycle as reference. It was a quick process, but I feel that transitioning from this sequence to the flashing design animation would work well when compiling a final reel. The bright colours evoke a childlike sense of creative, fun and life with clear mark making and rough, granular texture that we as an audience can almost feel.
The combination of these two sequences creates a singular exquisite corpse in itself, flashing between varying character designs and drawing styles whilst also bringing focus to the walk itself. It’s an entertaining piece of animation, challenging my digital predisposition in place for a textural, experimental and naive appeal.
The purpose of this session was to explore experimental materials and drawing mediums, and create a more exaggerated walk cycle animation in the process - responding to Oscar Barany’s ‘mugen’ example. In the process, was able to talk with the artist about his approach and the Mugen Project, explore oil pastels as a drawing medium for quick observational sketches and produce a sequence that effectively represents my project as a whole.
This session was about me putting a heavy focus on analogue materials, and experimenting with different drawing processes whilst also producing an animation. It’s something that I’ve somewhat neglected to do so far in this FMP, sticking to pencil and pen for the most part. Having looked at oil pastel amongst other mediums, and created an animation with a rich textural quality I’ve been able to do just that.
After speaking to Barany about his process, I want to explore Adobe After Effects and character rigging within the software. It’s a digital animation program with a completely different approach and mechanics to Photoshop or Character Animator - and it’s a program that I’ve always felt a little intimated by, due to the extensive controls and user interface. After speaking with Oscar about using the software for a walk cycle, however, and discussing with my tutor about rigging characters using After Effects, I want to challenge myself to learn the program, in an attempt to ready myself for the industry.
After Effects and motion graphics are quickly becoming the standard in commercial animation, and even narrative-based animations from studio Animade. My next move is to play around with the software, and attempt to create a walk cycle exploring a new approach to animation.
Producing these analogue animations has resulted in some exciting pieces here, however, and I want to look further at traditional animation as a process before I continue with my digital exploration into new software Adobe After Effects.
Actions
Explore traditional animation further, create a sequence using punched paper and a Lightbox
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