#me when i used to only sketch in a blue ballpoint pen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yeojaa · 4 years ago

Text

( NEVER LET YOU GO. )

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud. Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t.

(or: Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

pairing. tattoo artist!jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating. slice of life fluff, light smut. explicit (but only at the end).

tags / warnings. mentions of heavily tattooed!JK, casual drinking, tender lovemakin’, JK with the bad jokes, honestly just him being funny and chill like that one guy you never get over...

wc. 7.6k.

beta reader(s). @hobi-gif, @papillonsgf, and @yeoldontknow 💛 ty for always indulging me and most importantly, supporting me when i begin to spiral. 🤠

author note. i got this idea into my head one evening in the shower and now... it is this. it’s not your usual bad boy tattoooist!JK fic but i hope you enjoy regardless. as always, feedback means a lot!

You and forethought aren’t close friends. You really aren’t even distant cousins, or part of the same family tree. You consider it a stranger, wave loftily as it passes you by, squinting like you can’t properly make out what it is. Careful consideration? Thoughtful patience? None of that exists for you. At least, not when you really, really want something.

It’s what has you here now, bumbling your way into the tattoo shop like a newborn baby bird.

You wonder how it must look, whether the shop assistant is used to this. Random girl shows up on a Sunday afternoon looking like a fish out of water, eager yet afraid. By how she greets you - with a curious stare and not quite a smile - you’re sure she is.

“Do you take walk-ins?”

You’d meant to make an appointment. Had sat for hours on the shop’s Instagram page, combing through the residents’ portfolios, trying to decide who to reach out to. When you’d finally decided, you’d realised books were a thing and most of them were closed. (Just your luck.)

Still, it never hurt to try, right?

“Everyone’s fully booked.” The girl sounds bored, apathetic yet genial. (You don’t blame her.) By the way her stare swings over you, it feels like a dismissal. You’re ready to admit defeat - head half-bowed, words draped over your tongue. “But our apprentice might be able to squeeze you in.”

An apprentice? Well— that’s not exactly what you’d been hoping for, but this shop is reputable. Well-known. Considered one of the best in the city. Surely their apprentice would be fine. Just less seasoned, not as experienced.

You all but snap your neck nodding along, gratitude tumbling out in the form of awkward laughter. “That’d be great!”

The girl passes you off with a nod of her head, gesturing down the hall. “Last room on the left. His name’s Jungkook. His schedule says he’s all clear, but maybe knock before you go in.” It’s not the sunniest smile you’ve ever received, but the small thing she offers helps with the nerves. Stills them beneath your skin as you do as you’re told.

“Jungkook?” There’s not really anywhere to knock, every wall neatly frosted glass and no doors in sight. (You had passed a few folding screens but otherwise, it’s open concept, each room offering a glimpse into the artist who works inside.) It feels too disruptive to tap your knuckles on one glass pane, lest it interrupt someone else.

(His studio is minimally decorated but inviting: one big cabinet; two of those typical IKEA shelves in the 4x4 grid that every new homeowner and their mother have; and a shop table, upon which a black backpack sits. Various plants dress the room - both hanging from the ceiling and along the window - and Polaroids string over walls, held aloft by twine. A Roomba sits by itself in a corner and the tattoo bed dominates most of the space, positioned closer to the dividing wall; one teeny tiny rolling chair sits beside it. There’s a bench on your left, with a pair of Birkenstocks tucked beneath. All in all, very homey. Reminiscent of your own apartment.)

Hidden behind the bed, crouched low to the ground beside the cabinet, is a head of dark hair that speaks, drawing your attention from studying the cozy space. “Oh?”

You’re not expecting the face that turns to you, all big doe eyes and the sweetest dimples.

For a moment, you forget what you’re here for. Why you’re standing in the empty door frame, staring down at the guy like you’ve spent your entire life secluded and have no idea how to speak.

The longer you’re quiet, the more his concern seems to grow, single brow disappearing into his inky fringe. It hangs in his vision at certain angles, shields the brightness of his stare with each turn of his chin. “Are you okay?” He’s even risen - stopped what he was doing - so he can see you more clearly, without any obstruction in the way. Good for him, but worse for you.

He’s so cute. Were you prepared to look like an uncertain idiot in front of this… angel?

“Y-yeah.” You manage after what feels like forever, sweeping your nerves under the rug that sits on the floor, separates the sole of his sneakers from hard concrete. “Um— I was told you might have some time? For, uh, a walk-in?”

(Why’re you stuttering? You’re never shy. Or rather, you’re not this nervous mess. People have always called you an extrovert, outgoing as hell, a social butterfly.)

(You aren’t those things but you appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.)

“Oh!” Realisation dawns across his features, throws his kind smile into greater relief, and you have to actively tell yourself not to stare, tearing your gaze away to focus on the wall of stencils past his shoulder. He moves into motion then, stepping around the bed to meet you still rooted in the doorway. “Yeah, I’ve got time. Come in.” Up close like this - there’s only maybe two feet between you - you can make out the little scar on his cheek; the tiny beauty mark below his bottom lip; each individual lash that frames his Bambi eyes and flutters when he blinks. “I probably can’t draw you anything new right now but I’ve got some flash, if you’re interested?”

Even if you weren’t interested, you don’t think you’d say no. You were always a sucker for a cute boy and this Jungkook? He was that. In spades.

“Sure.”

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” He’s retreating back into the room, moving to grab his iPad off the far table. It’s balanced on his arm when he swivels to you, prominent front teeth on full display. “I’ve got a pretty big selection.”

When he drops onto the bench - a wayward vine above his head tickling his cheek - he gestures to the spot beside him. This time, you don’t stare for a stupid amount of time, instead taking up the seat without hesitation.

“So—” He’s swiping through the photo library with his Apple Pen. You’re sure there are pretty sketches on the screen - you just can’t focus on them, too preoccupied by the artwork that crawls across his hand and into the sleeve of his oversized, well-worn shirt. It’s an intricate chrysanthemum, impossibly well-shaded with bold colours that demand attention and stand out over his fair complexion; it creeps halfway up the back of his hand to tickle over his knuckles. He notes your attention with a quiet chuckle, fingers wiggling. The ink moves, flows, ripples with the motion, before his hand relaxes, knuckles unravelling as he offers the limb to you and your curiosity. “Do you like it?”

“It’s incredible.” It really is. You’ve never seen anything like it, as if a painting has been done across his skin, laid in watercolour rather than tattoo ink. “Did it hurt?”

(You almost want to hit yourself for the stupid question. Of course it did. It’s a hand tattoo.)

Jungkook only laughs again, doesn’t hold it against you despite the verbal barrage you’re faced with internally. “Like crazy, but it was worth it. This was my first tattoo and all the rest have just sort of been—” He shrugs, fabric of his shirt bunching around his collar.

“A piece of cake?” You can only imagine.

“Exactly.”

You nod thoughtfully, as if that means anything to you. (It doesn’t. You’re bare as a baby’s bottom, blemish free save for the occasional hellish pimple and the scar you have from surgery on your hand when you broke parts of it in sixth grade.)

If he can tell you’re talking out of your ass, he says nothing, redirecting your attention back to the iPad propped on his lap. “Do any of these interest you?” He’s resumed scrolling, swiping carefully through pages of flash. There are assorted floral pieces (plum stems, lily stalks, fully bloomed mums) and various skeletons (what looks like a deer, a dragon, a wolf). They’re mostly blackwork with fine lines and heavy contrast, so wonderfully detailed you spend too much time studying one piece before he’s flipping to the next.

“That one.” It catches your eye more than the others have. Likely because it’s one of the few pieces in colour, soft hues spilling over neat lines. A pretty little cat with a braided collar, big golden bell centered beneath its head, unravelling petals sweeping around it.

“You like cats?”

You do. “She looks like mine.”

“It’s settled.” He beams then, rising so quickly you’re startled; you watch as he moves around the space with decisive steps, putting your plan into motion. A paper is pulled seemingly out of nowhere, laid on a wooden clipboard and offered with a blue ballpoint pen. “If you can fill all of this out, I can get the stencil ready.”

Well, that was easy. Somehow, you’d thought it’d be more complicated, a ton of back and forth and yes and no. You can’t deny you’re nervous, staring down at the consent form.

(It doesn’t mean you read it any more than you normally would, though. You gloss over all the points, making note of what you’re agreeing to without really considering any of it. You’ve wanted a tattoo for most of your life. There’s really no going back now.)

(You just hope it turns out like you want - that you’re not just being blindsided by a sudden superficial crush and a lack of critical thought.)

“I think I’m done,” you mumble, slashing the date into the paper with gusto.

“Do you have your ID?” You’ve got it ready for him when he returns to take both it and the form. “I’m just going to make copies and then we can discuss more.”

He’s gone with that same smile, disappearing back the way you’d come.

Alone, the nerves set in. You’re actually doing this. Getting a tattoo. Putting something permanent on your body. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, shaking your hands in your lap. Maybe you should’ve eaten more before you’d come. (You’d woken up late - had only shoved two pieces of raisin pinwheel bread into your mouth before you’d made up your mind about this.)

(But had you really made up your mind? Was this going to be it? It feels mostly like yes, though the repetitive thud of your toe against concrete seems to indicate otherwise. It’s as if you’re tapping out something in morse, telling yourself—)

“Okay!” Jungkook’s back before you know it, driver’s license returned to you along with an unsealed envelope. You eye it curiously. “A copy of your form and an aftercare sheet.”

He’s really thought of everything. Or the shop has. Either way, you appreciate that when you’re not so sure, caught somewhere between giddily excited and vaguely worried, as if someone’s pulled a weight off your shoulders, taken on some of the burden of this spontaneous choice.

“So, where do you want it?” It’s like he has a one track mind, utterly focused on the task at hand. (Probably a good thing, given you’re about to voluntarily let him needle your poor skin.)

You hadn’t thought about that. You’d always liked the idea of a back of the arm tattoo, positioned somewhere along your tricep so it could be seen while turned away. “My arm?”

“Upper? Forearm?” There’s not an ounce of annoyance or exasperation or anything else negative. He’s just genuinely curious, peering over his shoulder at you.

“Tricep area, I think? Would that look good?”

“If you like it, it will.” Then he grins - beams so bright you half expect the sun to come zooming out of his mouth - and laughs, a funny little cackle that makes you do the same. “I’m kidding. That was cheesy. But I’m sure it’ll look fine. We can try laying it down first, so you get an idea?”

“That sounds good.” A lot better than endless years of regret for poor placement.

“You’ll, uh— need to take your shirt off though.”

It’s then you realise your mistake: wearing a turtleneck. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence passes, then another, and he smiles so kindly you wonder what your expression must look like. Sour, like you’d sucked fresh lemon? Awkward, as if you’d never worn anything less than double layers before (a proud Never Nude)?

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can reschedule. Or I can put a divider up so you don’t have to worry about being seen from outside. Whatever you’d prefer.”

The longer you stay quiet - a seemingly common occurrence today - the closer his brows furrow, preparations coming to a standstill. You can tell he’s not trying to rush you, politely waiting for an answer with transfer paper in one hand and scissors in the other.

(If only he could peek into your brain, see the whole reason you’re hesitating is because you can’t quite remember which bra you’re wearing, whether it’s the slinky black one that offers absolutely zero support or the lacy blue one with the cute detailing and practically see-through cups.)

(Did it really matter either way? He was probably desensitized.)

“It’s fine.” You find the confidence somehow, nodding firmly. Jungkook’s still studying you carefully, though. Waiting as you strip your purse off your shoulder and reach for the hem of your sweater. It feels funny in your fingers, more like steel wool than sheep’s.

One breath. Two.

You fold your turtleneck neatly, laying it beside your bag and turning back to face him. “All right. Let’s do this.”

“So, which arm?” He’s close now - crossed to you in two strides of his long legs - and holds up the stencil.

Your right rises, fingers wiggling as if to say hello.

He lays the design down, pats it into place with deft fingers. You don’t realise the breath you’re holding until he pulls the sticky paper away, leaving neat line work in its wake.

“Oh.” It slips out of its own accord, almost a whisper as you stare at the design in the mirror. “It’s so pretty.”

There’s pride in his eyes as he stares with you, bounces his gaze between it and your face. “Thanks.” He lets you linger, peering thoughtfully at your reflection before speaking, casually hopeful. “What do you think?”

“This is it. Right here.”

Maybe he’d fist pump, if he were any less cool. As it stands, he simply nods, cheeks round like fresh baked bread, nose scrunched with glee.

“All right. We’ll shave you down and get started. You like the colours, right?” Once again, he’s buzzing around the room, gathering up all his materials and snapping black gloves on once everything is laid out upon his cart. It’s heavily stickered, covered in video game vinyls and anime mattes. (You recognise a handful of them, make a note to ask him where he got them from.) He pats the tissue papered bed top when you make no movement toward him. “Hop on up. Face down, if that’s okay.”

You do as he says, climbing atop with minimal grace. It takes you a bit of adjusting to get comfortable, folding your left arm under your head and allowing your right to simply dangle, uncertain of where it should be.

“You’re sparkly.”

“What?” You’d misheard that, right?

“Your skin. You’re sparkling.” He sounds a little in awe, surprised as wetness spills across your arm, the edge of a razor following closely thereafter.

“Oh.” Heat creeps over your cheeks, slinks all the way up into your roots and has you chuckling awkwardly. “It’s my soap.”

“Sparkle soap?” Whether he’s just making conversation or genuinely curious, you’re not sure. He does seem delighted by the fact, though, as if he’s never seen a girl covered in glitter before. (Which, fair.)

“It’s this specialty holiday soap. It has pigment in it.”

“That’s cool.” He’s laying the stencil down again, smoothing it over your now-hairless arm. “It smells nice.”

Obviously, you agree. It’s honey and citrus, brightly fragrant but not overpowering, lingering on your clothes like the subtle golden glitter does. Still, you flush, heat crossing from a casual day under the sun to burning-on-the-stove hot. “Thanks.”

“Was that weird? I hope not.”

“No, you’re fine.”

He hums a tiny noise, something that sounds like understanding and appreciation all at once.

Then the buzzing starts - a steady, inescapable brrrrrrrrr - and he’s gripping your arm, steady yet gentle. “Ready?”

Honestly, you’re not sure. Hearing the noise makes it seem scary, has your entire body tensing up like Pavlov’s dog. Your honesty can’t be helped, a nervous giggle chased off your tongue. “I think so.”

“I think so too.”

By the time you’re done - a good almost five hours later, your arm stinging so bad you wonder why you’d ever sat down in the first place - you’d fallen asleep twice, started drooling on your other arm once, and really, really have to pee.

“All right—”“ The incessant buzzing stops. Liquid spills where the pain centres, followed by rougher paper towel. “You are finished.”

(You might be imagining it, but he sounds about as relieved as you. Maybe because you’d been sitting for hours on hours, turning down his offer for a break because you just wanted to get it done and therefore forcing him to do the same.)

“Can I see?” You don’t want to leap to your feet - feel a bit too lightheaded for that - but you’re bouncing with excitement, the thrumming in your arm intensified when you shift to catch a better look at Jungkook’s face.

“Yeah, go ahead. Just be careful - you might be a bit—”

He’s right. You nearly topple over the moment you stand, none-too-gently rolling off the edge of the bed and barely landing safely on your feet. It’s only his close proximity that prevents you from falling to your knees, one degloved hand darting out to steady you.

“Careful!” It’s politely reproachful, coloured soft with worry.

“Sorry, sorry.” You seize the edge of the bed, gripping tight as you wait for everything to settle, the lightheadedness to recede. Everything straightens out quickly enough. “Got up too quickly.”

“Do you need a snack?” He’s already up, moving faster than you, rummaging through the cabinet against the far wall. “I’ve got seaweed and Choco Boys and shrimp chips and—”

You can’t help but laugh, hobbling to the mirror to inspect your new piece of art. “I’m fine.” That, and you’re too occupied with the ink that now sits embedded beneath your skin, a flurry of lovely colour and impressive line work.

“Choco Boys it is then.” The familiar yellow package is thrust toward you, a pack of his own already ripped open. Mushroom-shaped treats are tossed into his open mouth, lips curling around chocolate and his next words, “it’ll help with your sugar levels.”

A thank you comes, fingers curling around the snacks, but you’re still in deep, so focused on the lovely hue that bleeds over your skin, marks up previously unblemished flesh and holds your attention. It’s better than you could’ve possibly imagined, a piece of artwork forever yours. It makes you giddy as you stare at it - almost reach for it, but stop when you catch the alarmed widening of Jungkook’s eyes.

“You like?”

“I love.” You’d stare at it for hours, if you could. Likely will, once you get home, sitting in front of the mirror like a zombie. “Thank you so, so much.”

The brunet beams as he polishes off the last of his Choco Boys, tossing his dark hair back with a flick of his head. Triumph rolls off him in palpable waves, sitting pretty in the lines by his eyes, the scrunching around his nose. Seeing how it blooms in his stare is like a straight endorphin shot, as if you’ve done more than just be the canvas he’s laid all his hard work into. “It was a pleasure.”

It’s a whole month later - enough time for the piece to heal - before you decide you want another one. It’s not as spontaneous as the first time, instead led with an Instagram direct message to @jeonink. (You half expect him not to answer; you’re utterly delighted when he responds not five minutes later.)

Maybe it’s fate or maybe it’s luck that has him with availability the same day you reach out, bringing you back to the studio three hours after you’ve messaged him.

He’s just as cute as before, black baseball cap pulled low over his ears, silver-lined ears twinkling beneath the shop lights.

“So, what’re you thinking?”

Truthfully, you hadn’t done much thinking. Just like before, you’d decided you wanted a tattoo and, well, the rest had been history. You figured you’d let him have free reign, given how happy you were with your first piece. “A sleeve?”

That surprises him. His whole face lights up, eyes wide, mouth rounding curiously. “Like, a full sleeve?” It’s not necessarily a no - more of an are you sure? he hides between the syllables.

“I think so.”

He nods slowly, knowingly, arms folded over his chest, expression suddenly unreadable. “You caught the itch.”

Your own features twist, brows shooting high. “The what?”

“The tattoo itch,” he clarifies with a laugh, the sound sweeping your concern away like the sea. “People say once you get one, you get addicted to the feeling.” He’s extending both arms to you now, hands palm up. For a moment, you’re note sure what he’s doing. (In actuality, you’re distracted by the fact that he’s in a tee, muscle cording his limbs, undulating as he turns his arms over.) “I got bit by it when I lived in Japan. It’s actually what got me into tattooing myself.”

You remember what he’d said last time - how he’d spent a handful of years overseas, working in restaurants after having followed his last partner there. He’d shared lots about his life, giving you the Sparknotes version while you’d ground enamel to fine dust.

“I guess I have the itch then.”

“Guess you do.”

Your dream comes to life in four excruciating sessions. It’s some of the worst pain you’ve ever endured (you’re never going to get an elbow tattoo ever again) but you’d do it all again in a heartbeat, utterly in love with the mural that now lives on your skin. A peony caps your shoulder while one runs halfway up your bicep. Another takes up the entirety of your forearm. There’s a darling little bird and delicately inked koi. It’s breathtaking, greater than anything you could have dreamt up.

You’ve been staring at it for at least three minutes now, tracing over the freshly laid colour with a tender touch. You’re grateful for the SecondSkin, the clear bandage that wraps everything up and keeps it safe from your over eager hands.

“You did it.” Jungkook’s grinning at you, feet kicked up where he sits, his usual bag of Choco Boys balanced in his lap. “Big girl.”

From anyone else, it might sound condescending - might rub you the wrong way and have you glaring daggers. Instead, you take it in stride, beaming at him from your seat. He’s been there with you every step of the way, been there for every hour (seventeen over three months, to be exact) you’ve dedicated to finishing this beauty up. Tease you as he might, you know he really is proud of you.

“You mean we did it,” you return, giddy like a child.

“Ah, right.” The chocolate-covered snack he’s devouring goes crunch crunch crunch before he speaks, mouth still full, eyes crinkled. “I guess I did do all the work.”

“Hey! Screw you!” You’re glowering at him, middle finger raised in defiance.

(How curious that your relationship has grown like this, turned from tattoo artist and client to what feels like more. It probably makes sense, given the long hours you’ve spent together, the support he’s had to offer each time the pain has gotten this side of too much, chattering your teeth and dizzying your head. Solidarity in pain and all that.)

(You really had tapped out once, when he’d crept his gun into the ditch of your elbow. You’d asked him whether it’d hurt beforehand and he’d only laughed, shrugged off the question and continued with the careful shading to your inner arm. That in itself had hurt like a biiitch; you hadn’t thought it could get worse.)

(You’d been mistaken.)

“Am I wrong?” He drawls, full of laughter and that big dumb smile of his you’ve grown accustomed to. It eats up his cheeks and disappears his eyes, makes it hard to be mad at him when he looks so sweet.

“Yes, you are.” You’ve got absolutely nothing to back it up, but who cares. This is the sort of banter the two of you have developed, like two old friends forced to spend too much time together. (Not that you’d complain. You’ve loved hearing his stories, all the tales he regales you with whenever you’re in his chair.)

A snort is his answer, the full roll of his eyes over-exaggerated and playful. “You’re lucky we’re all finished or I’d sneak in an ugly fish somewhere on your arm.”

You think he’s kidding - know he takes too much pride in his work to do that.

Still, you stick your tongue out, hopping down from the bed with your freshly inked arm, hands clapping together in celebration. “You wouldn’t dare.” You’re confident, crossing to the bench to tug your flannel on, careful of the dull pain that throbs beneath the thin medical dressing.

“Wouldn’t I? I’m leaving anyway.”

You’re ready to call him out for it, insist he would never ruin the sanctity of his profession in such a way, when you realise the words he’s spoken, the casual tidbit he’s just dropped like it’s nothing.

“Leaving?”

(Is it you or do you sound disappointed? You can’t dwell on it for long, worried you’ll miss his explanation. Had he mentioned it previously? Slipped it in when you’d been delirious from pain? No, you would’ve remembered that. You swear you would’ve.)

“I’m moving to Tokyo.” How he’s so casual, you have absolutely no idea. You suppose it’s not a big deal for him - he’s not from here anyway. Home is back in Korea, the place he’d spent most of his life before moving to Japan and then here, just two years ago. (God, your memory is good. If only you’d retained knowledge like this when you were in school.) “My flight’s next weekend.”

Your face must be hilarious because Jungkook’s laughing, cackling like the evil villain in an anime.

“Gonna miss me?”

Would it be inappropriate to say yes? Because you will, you realise the moment he’s posed the question. You’ve grown to consider him a friend, someone who you send random memes to on Instagram (usually pertaining to #tattooartistproblems or one of your shared hobbies, like video games and finding the best noodle soup restaurant in the city).

You go for the safe bet, answering with a question of your own. “Are you gonna miss me?”

“I’ll miss your restaurant recs,” he answers, offering honesty to your reticence. “You can still send me funny photos though.”

You can’t help your laugh, the tiny quirk of your mouth into a smile. “I guess you’re right. Will you still be tattooing?” It’s an innocent enough question - you really do want to know. You can’t imagine going to anyone else, even if it means you’ll be shelling out an absurd amount of money for a plane ticket.

“Yep, new shop.” Something twinkles in his stare, has him giddy as he rises to his feet, tossing his empty packet of snacks into the trash bin. “Actually, where I got most of mine done.” You understand it then - that it’s a move of faith. He’s finally come full circle. You’re unbelievably happy for him, brimming with delight to mirror his pride.

But you’re still going to give him a little bit of a hard time because you have to. It wouldn’t feel right otherwise. “Whoa, big shot.”

“I am actually,” he sniffs, raking an ink-strewn hand through his hair. It’s longer now than it was when you met him, curling over the tops of his ears, hanging in his eyes at every turn. “You’ll be lucky if I remember you when I��m famous.”

“Famously lame, maybe,” you tease, slipping your bag over your shoulder. You busy yourself pulling your keys from the interior pocket, checking your phone as if you’re ready to go. It’s only when you’re standing in the hallway - you have no real intention of departing like this and he knows that, considering you haven’t paid yet - when you level him with a half-formed smirk. “But I guess I should take you for a drink?”

His hoodie is on before you know it, yanked over his head and tugged into place as he joins you. It’s become your regular routine - leaving together after your sessions, a perk of always booking the last slot he has available. (Not that you relied on that, but simply because your work schedule didn’t really allow for anything else.) “Obviously.”

Jeon Jungkook is a talented artist, a dedicated snacker, a lover of the colour black. You discover, sitting on the patio of the nearby bar, that he’s also really, really good at holding his liquor.

(Not that he’d ever indicated otherwise.)

“Do you think you’ll get anything else done?” He’s on his sixth pint, casually leaned back in his chair as he picks at the fries you’d ordered but that he seems perfectly happy to help himself to. (Payback for all the times he’s forced snacks on you maybe?) “Like, a face tattoo?”

You scoff at the question as if greatly offended. “You think I’d get a face tattoo?”

While a little glazed in the eyes, you can tell he’s altogether coherent, grinning across the table at you. “Hey, I don’t judge. You like making surprise decisions, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Okay, so he’s got you there. Used your own impulsive history against you. “I would never.”

“If you change your mind, do I get first dibs?”

“Dibs on what? Tattooing me?”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “Duh.”

You can only roll your eyes, tossing a wayward burnt fry end at him. “Yes, Kook, you get first dibs on ruining my face.”

His expression twists, mouth shaping around words he’s keeping caged behind his teeth. There’s something he isn’t saying, a comeback he’s chosen to lock up. You wonder what it is.

“Hey - nothing wrong with face tattoos.”

“Really?” You’re leaning forward, a clear challenge written across your face. “Then why don’t you have one?” He has a million others as it is: a hand, nearly the entirety of both arms, his chest, his shoulders, one of his legs. (You haven’t seen them all in person but you have seen them online, memorialised on his Instagram feed.)

“And hide all this?” One inked hand is gesturing toward his own face, gesticulating wildly as if that’ll drive his point further home. “I would never.”

“That’s what I said!”

It doesn’t matter to him, not when he’s fully sober and most certainly not now, when he’s slightly buzzed, eyes glossier than usual. “But I’m cuter. It’d be a shame if it were me. You…” The way he trails off is suggestive, indicative of something mocking and mean. (Except it’s never cruel - far too friendly and soft to ever hurt your feelings.) “—not so much.”

Another fry hits him right between the eyes and then another disappears into the hood of his sweater, lost to the black fabric that bunches up around his neck and hides the flush he’s been battling since you two got to the bar an hour ago.

“Don’t be rude!”

He beams at you then, so unnecessarily endearing you can only throw one more piece at him.

“I’m kidding.” You knew that already but pretend to ignore the pseudo-apology, choosing instead to polish off the last of your now-cold fries. A bad choice, you realise when he continues, surprising you with the words that come out of his liquor-laden mouth so much so that you almost choke. “You’re actually pretty cute.”

(So what if you’ve sort of maybe been waiting to hear them? Wondering if the tiny crush you’d developed was in some way reciprocated?)

(Not that this meant it was. Only that you perhaps weren’t alone in thinking he was the most lovable - and somehow simultaneously hot - person you’d ever met. It’s almost rewarding to know the long hours together hadn’t left him unscathed.)

“You all good?” The look on his face is worse than that smile he usually offers, instead a devilish smirk that makes him look like Satan himself.

Were you? You’re not sure.

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Really? You can’t?” You’re not sure what that means, whether you’re simply reading too far into it. But then he’s dragging his bottom lip through his teeth, head cocked curiously. It’s a bait, you realise—and one you’ll gladly take.

“Should I have expected it?”

Shoulders hike, rising up around his ears. “I thought I made it sort of obvious.”

Had he? Thinking back on it, you can’t really recall. Of course, he’d always been friendly, indulging you in your pursuit of body art, sketching up the loveliest things you’d never even think to dream of; accepting your distracting Instagram messages without complaint, always tossing you a like or some sort of acknowledgement no matter what you’d send (and you’d send some random, random stuff). Chatting with him daily had just become the norm, conversation flowing freely whenever you’d pop in for your next session.

But that was just because he was a nice guy - or so you’d thought. You realise now how wrong you’d been, too occupied with your own crush to notice his (if it could be called that).

“You like me,” you hum, surprisingly nonchalant despite the little pitter patter in your chest, the flutter of your heart within your ribcage.

“I think you’re cute,” he retorts, though there’s no real weight to his rebuff. The two statements are really one and the same and you’re giddy with the knowledge, absolutely tickled pink.

Except for the fact that he’s leaving, fully prepared to start a new life in another city in just one week. The irony isn’t lost on you, like fate’s laughing even as she offers you this little crumb. (You feel like Oliver Twist, frankly.)

“Same difference.”

He huffs - you’re reminded of how adorable he is when he does that - and downs the lukewarm remainder of his beer. “I take it back.”

“No, you don’t.” Where the confidence comes from, who knows. You grip it tight with both hands though, hold it snugly as you level him with a stare that has his own unwavering. It’s almost as if you’re caught in a staring match, a battle of unspoken wits.

It drags on longer than it should, just the two of you locked to each other with nowhere to go.

Then he does the last thing you expect: shoves his chair aside and leans across the table, stealing a kiss and returning to his seat, all in the span of time it takes you to blink.

(His lips are so soft. A little chapped, a tiny bit dry, but soft - deceptively delicate. Bitter, touched with sea salt and something else distinctly him. French fries and beer and his Chapstick.)

(For the briefest moment, you wonder whether you’d just imagined it - if your imagination had truly gotten the best of you and you’ve absolutely lost your mind.)

“You just kissed me.” It seems like you’ve found your new favourite hobby of just repeating things, giving live play-by-plays like an awkward narrator in a romcom.

“Yeah, so?”

“You’re leaving.” Speaking the words into existence feels bad; you see the way his eyes tighten, the subtle sobering of his expression even while he tries to keep his cool.

“I am.” At least he’s realistic. It saves you from any uncertainty, keeping the what-ifs at bay.

You suppose it means you have nothing to lose.

“Do it again.”

And Jungkook does - over and over, sinking the taste of him almost as deeply as ink, offering a piece of himself you want to keep for just as long.

It takes you longer to add to your collection of art, nearly four whole years before you decide what you want next. (It’s a back piece this time - a full body suit from your shoulders down past your ass. Another cat, dressed in traditional Japanese clothing and surrounded by flowers. An ode to your first tattoo, to the one that had started it all.)

(You’re not sure you’re ready for the pain, though.)

“Lay down,” the artist instructs, back turned to you, busy preparing his materials. You’d stripped down while he was occupied, discarded all your clothes to the allocated basket and stood quietly in anticipation.

You do as he says, dropping atop the tattoo bed with a quiet oof. The stencil has already been laid, the entire outline ready to be inked into your skin. You can’t deny you’re more than a little nervous. It’s been years since you’d last gotten anything done, uninterested in finding a new artist since Jungkook had left.

(Which he had, exactly as he’d intended, gone on a 6 AM flight that you’d driven him to, teary-eyed and embarrassed. He’d laughed at you standing outside of the departure gate, his suitcase at his side, arms wrapped around your shoulders. You’d refused to show your face, burying it instead into the warmth of his neck, into the familiar scent of him that was going away for who knows how long.

“Stop being a baby,” he’d said, smothering you in kisses, the full weight of his laughter palpable through your close proximity. It'd rumbled out of his chest all the way into yours, finding a home behind your ribcage, right alongside where your heart fluttered, shaded blue and sad.

“Stop being mean,” you’d countered, petulant like a child.

It couldn’t be helped. You’d had only one week with him - one glorious, chaotic week filled with eating too much junk, rewatching your favourite animes, and generally making up for all the lost time you’d never even known there was. As amazing as it’d been, it still hadn’t prepared you for the goodbye.

That was your fault, though. You’d wrongly entertained the idea that maybe things would work out, that he’d change his mind or ask to take it - whatever you had, that is - with him, keep it going somehow. He hadn’t.)

“Do you have a preference where I start?” You’re unbothered, hair loosely knotted over your shoulder. Ready for the session to start - ready to feel the familiar sting again. (You’re proud of that. It might have taken you years and years but here you were, tackling something huge.)

“Nope.”

“Sounds good.”

The buzzing begins and pressure lands upon the small of your back, a gloved hand laid over the centre of your spine. You remind yourself to breathe in, out, focus on something other than the pain that fizzles over your skin and then ebbs into tenderness. Where he’s started - just above the fattiest part of your butt - isn’t too bad. Tolerable and yielding.

You can do this.

Your back aches in a different way than you’d anticipated, soreness buzzing beneath inflamed skin and making it uncomfortable to move around. It’s not any worse than your arm had been - the lines along your spine had felt comparable to that of your elbow - but it’s fresh, not dulled by years like your sleeve now was.

The artist is stripping his gloves off, your back neatly covered and the bed stripped of its original tissue paper. He’s leaned against the sink, onigiri held in his now-free hands, nibbling at the edge of the rice ball as you turn this way and that in the mirror. “You did good.”

You’re still undressed, admiring the linework from different angles, shimmying closer to your reflection to catch the lighter inking that makes up the undefined edges of the various florals. Something tells you that you should be shy - eager to redress after spending nearly five hours naked in the secluded studio - but you don’t care. Your back is quickly becoming a masterpiece, something that might as well be hung in the halls of the Louvre. You’re in love with it.

“Thanks.”

You mean thank you for his compliment but also for all his hard work, the long hours he’s put into bringing this beauty to life. It means so much - like progressing to the next level.

Which, you suppose it is. This is a fresh start for you. A new beginning in a new city.

“Proud of you,” he hums, suddenly close, broad palms searing heat over your hips. He’s careful to avoid the edge of the bandage that wraps your back and holds you delicately, like fine china or the most precious jewel in the world, lips sweet against your temple.

You meet his eyes in the mirror - the same sweet doe-eyed stare from five years ago. A little darker now, aged by the hand of time but endlessly kind, shining beneath the overhead lights.

“Proud of you,” you chirp, identical smiles spreading over your faces.

Jungkook’s having none of it though, bratty as usual. “Proud of us.”

You suppose you can settle for that. You really are proud of the two of you - for how far you’ve made it and all the obstacles you’ve overcome. From the first few weeks of sadness, all the melancholy that’d set in when he’d left, to exactly one month after, when he’d called you in the middle of the night, drunk and stumbling home.

(It’d been infuriating at the time - incoherent and foolish as he was - but it’d bloomed something between you, something neither of you could ignore.)

Four years of miserable long distance had become this: a love that's brought you back to his side, to a city you’re unfamiliar with but that he calls home; to a city that never sleeps, loud with pachinko machines and some of the best food you’ve ever had; to the place you’ve been missing every minute you were apart.

You’d never thought you would move for someone, uproot your entire life for a relationship, but he’d changed that. Made it worth it in ways you had never considered. Convinced you more and more with each trip you’d taken, two visits twice a year, for a measly two weeks at a time.

“Should we head home?” He means your physical home - the apartment the two of you had decided on in Roppongi, the one you haven’t seen yet, that he’s had to move into all by himself. It’s not quite as nice as the home in his arms.

You say yes anyway.

“I’m so talented.” The words come entirely too whole for your liking, loud somewhere above your head.

“Are you serious?” You’re levelling your boyfriend with the most incredulous look, whole face scrunched up, hands fisted into his dark sheets. It’s uncomfortable at this angle - kinking your neck as you look over your shoulder - but you really can’t believe he’s just said that. He’s knelt between your legs, knees spread wide around his own, his hand halfway up your back and tracking heat over your spine.

Somehow, he has the audacity to look surprised. “What?”

“You’re really patting yourself on the back right now?” Now, when he should be pounding you into oblivion, working that big fat cock of his through your fluttering walls, making you moan his name into his pillows like it’s his only job?

(It truthfully could be. You’d rank his skills in the bedroom on par with his skills in the studio.)

“Oh.” All at once, he’s the devil - sin personified. Or would be, if he didn’t somehow still look infuriatingly cute.

The gentle touch turns bruising, heel of his palm pressed hard into the tender notches of your spine. “You don’t like when I admire my own work?” Asked as he shifts behind you, length dragging out of your dripping cunt to gently tap against your aching clit. The head of it glides through your folds, mercilessly teasing but never slipping back in, never filling you whole like you need. (Because you really do need it. You haven’t seen him in six months, left to your own devices - literally.) It feels like heaven and hell, too good and not nearly enough all at once.

“Kook,” you snap. Try to, anyway, his name far too whiny and breathless to hold any real weight.

“I’m just admiring you, sweetheart.” He’s dragging the hand over your back, tracing all the lines he’s embedded into your skin. They make up his favourite piece, inked permanently into his favourite canvas. A testament to his hard work, his dedication, his love.

Any other time, you might not care. Here and now, after not having felt his touch in what feels like forever, you’re burning from the inside out, a million volts of electricity tripping your circuits. When you speak, it’s more a plea than a reprimand, uttered so sweetly you know he can’t deny you. “Admire me later.”

“I’ve missed you” is his only answer, punctuated by a fluid roll of his hips, the heavy press of his cock back into your dripping cunt. “I’ve missed this,” he breathes out, sinking all the way in, so slow you can feel every ridge and vein as he fills you.

“Missed you too,” you parrot back, a little delirious now that you’ve gotten what you want.

Now that he’s right where he should be - with you.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @xjoonchildx

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cricketdrawings · 3 years ago

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Traditional art supplies I like: ✨Cheap Edition✨

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤

I noticed my last post had a lot of more expensive materials, which are great if you save up or are able to get them more easily, but I figured I’d make another post about more affordable materials for my friends out there who don’t have access to an employee discount at a craft store like I do, or family members who like to give gift cards and such!

Pens:

1. I mentioned this in my last post, but ballpoint pens will never fail you. I recommend BIC if at all possible. You can get a pack of 60 in red, blue, and black for around 6 bucks, as well as just a 60 pack of one of those colors for the same price. You can get some really nice shading out of these, surprisingly, and a pack that big will last you years!

2. Paper mate flair felt tip pens. I used to love these growing up!! They still hold up pretty well, and have the same basic effect as, say, a tombow brush pen, which is my favorite. A pack of 3 in black is around $3-4, which is half the price for a pack of tombows! You can also get them in a lot of different colors. A 12 pack in rainbow is about 12 bucks. If a dollar per pen seems a little much, trust me- if you’re able at all to save up for these guys, they’ll last forever and won’t let you down!

3. I also mentioned pentel sign pens in my last post, and they are just slightly more expensive than the paper mate flair. You can get a box of 12 for $14, which is still more on the expensive side, but if you’re able to then these guys are really fun to use and really reliable!

Pencils:

1. In the school supply section of walmart, you can get a pack of generic HB pencils. They usually have either stars, pastel or neon colors, or are holographic on the barrel. Especially in the back to school season, go and get you a pack of these; any sharpener will do. They are surprisingly soft and lay down pretty dark! I get a pack every year and they never fail me. A pack of 20 is only a couple dollars. (Dixon and ticonderoga I do NOT recommend. Ticonderoga has great colored pencils, but their regular pencils are WACK. They’re way too hard so their lines are way too weak for my taste. As for dixon, they don’t erase cleanly, and splinter when they sharpen. No bueno.)

2. BIC mechanical pencils. These are probably the best mechanical pencils on the cheaper side. They write nice and dark, and you can get a pack of 40 for about 8 bucks, which will last you literally years!! Just like their ballpoint pens! If you really want a good cheap sketching set, I’d get a pack of their ballpoint pens and pencils. Basic as basic gets, but it’ll get you far.

3. For colored pencils: I swear, you can never go wrong with crayola. They’re not the softest or most pigmented, but when you’re balling on a budget they’re perfectly fine! I also love crayola crayons. They are my #1 most favorite affordable art material!

Markers:

1. Back to crayola: crayola super tips markers. These are PERFECT for sketching. You can layer the colors pretty nicely with these, and they start out nice and transparent, almost like watercolor. With the shape of the nib, which is almost cone shaped, you can get some pretty nice line variation! I recommend a pack of 50, which is around 7 bucks, and if you’re feeling really fancy, a pack of 100 is about 14 bucks.

2. Artist’s loft fundamentals triangle markers. When I was in high school, I had a pack of these that I wore absolutely ragged. They are pretty much always worth it, and also perfect for sketching. I even still have a set today, along with the super tips! They’re just that good! These babies are skinner than the super tips, so they’re more like the width of a pen, but not exactly like the penmate flair, which you can press down like a brush. With these you can also take a brush with water and use them like watercolor pencils and get some beautiful results! A pack of 36 is about $5 at michael’s. Probably one of the best purchases you could ever make at that price and I cannot recommend them enough, no matter how experienced you are.

3. For alcohol markers: Ohuhu is fantastic. They’re a bit on the pricier side, but that’s mostly because alcohol markers usually are compared to water based markers. A pack of 60 is usually around $20 on amazon, which is how much I got mine for, but I just checked and they’re about $25. Don’t panic though- prices change all the time! The colors on these are absolutely lovely, and it comes with a nice carrying case with a handle, and a plastic sheet you can place underneath the paper you’re working on so it doesn’t bleed through to your desk or the next page of your sketchbook. Absolutely worth the price tag. Ohuhu also has water based markers for slightly cheaper, but I can’t speak for those since I haven’t tried ‘em.

4. Sharpie is a household name, and there’s a reason why! I don’t always prefer them since at times they CAN be overpriced, but depending on which set you get, the price tag becomes more reasonable. For regular black, I recommend getting a pack of 6 with 2 chisel tips, two fine (regular) tips, and two ultra fine tips for around $7. They last forever, and that way you’re getting a pretty wide range of lines you can get! As for their colored markers, I honestly can’t recommend them as much since I find their colors to be a little darker than I’d personally prefer as compared to the ohuhu markers, but if you so choose you can get a pack of 12 for about $9 on amazon! My favorite color has to be the fuchsia. No matter what they’re fun to color with and easy to obtain just about anywhere!

Sketchbooks:

What’s this? A sketchbooks section? (You didn’t have that in your previous post, Cricket! Well, no, I did not, but I’ll have to fix that soon!)

1. Artist’s loft hardbound sketchbooks. You can get these at michael’s for about $6, and they pretty frequently go on sale for bogo or bogo 50%. The paper is actually super nice, a little on the smoother side, and just thick enough where you’ll feel pretty fancy using it, and also not guilty if you need to tear out a page. They’ve got classic black, and also currently they have a lovely pink, blue, and green. The inner cover page is the same color as the cover, and it gives for a more professional, almost published feel. They come in 6x9 and 9x12 sizes. Artist’s loft is generally a pretty reliable, affordable brand!

2. Pacon sketch diary. If you prefer spiral bound, these guys are also pretty nice! They’re about $5, and there are other similar generic brand sketch diaries you can get that will never lead you astray. Walmart has some pretty good ones too for around the same price, and some even have a clear plastic pocket on the front where you can insert whatever you like!

3. Spiral bound notebooks are easily accessible, and during back to school season in certain places you can get them for a dollar or less. There’s no shame in needing to use lined paper! It works just as good as other paper when it comes to needing to draw something, and no matter what your art is your art, no matter what materials you use! I love getting lisa frank notebooks or notebooks with puppies or kittens on them during the back to school season. (Walmart back to school season SLAPS for cheap art supplies if you can’t tell already.)

4. Daler-rowney simply soft cover sketchbook, 3.5x5.5 in. I list this one because it’s the nicest cheapest sketchbook you can get at Walmart for about 2 bucks. It’s a much smaller size and very flat so you can keep it in your pocket or bag and take it with you. The hardbound 5x7 is also super nice, and it used to be my ultimate top choice. It’s about $4-5. I would get one like once every 3 months, and if you’re able to afford it, they’re great for stocking up and great to take with you anywhere. The paper is a pretty unusual texture that I haven’t seen anywhere else, and in my experience there’s very little transference from one page to another if you’re using pencil, which is always pretty annoying and great to avoid when you can.

5. Royal and langnickel essentials hardbound sketchbook. I came across this one when I was shopping at Ross. Yeah, Ross!! A good tip for cheap art supplies is to check Ross! I’ve gotten some pretty great things from the art section there for very cheap. Since it’s a discount store though, it’s usually a crap shoot regarding what you might find. These sketchbooks have pretty similar paper to the daler and rowney, and you can get a 4x6 for about $3 at Walmart. A larger one, depending on where you look, has pretty inconsistent pricing, but when I was at Ross I found some 9x12’s for 2.99. Although I can’t promise you’ll have the same luck as I did!

Paints:

Watercolor:

1. Jerry Q watercolor palette. I had one of these right before I first tried gansai watercolors, which are my favorite and a little more expensive, but the set I had I kept for around 2 years with almost constant use. They can be a little light and not super pigmented, but if you’re able to get something like a spray bottle and wet them before hand, let the water soak in a little bit, they’re much easier to activate and you’ll get brighter colors out of them. They just need time to soften. You can get a 24 color set for $14, and a 36 set for $18. If you’re able to, I recommend the 36 set since that’s what I had, but 24 works just fine and it’ll be better for learning color mixing!

2. Rule of thumb is crayola is usually the way to go if you can’t afford much else. I will say the older formula for their watercolor paints was much better. Brand new is still good though, and you can’t go wrong with a regular 12 set. (I do NOT recommend prang, which is their similar competitor. Their paints are sticky as hell if you use too much.)

Acrylic:

Craftsmart or apple barrel craft paints. These guys were my first acrylics I ever used, and I still have some older pieces that I made with them that still hold up in my eyes today. They have a much different formula than most acrylics, and are powder based, so you’ll notice they sort of have a different texture. Careful not to glob it on too thickly, however! If you do the paint will form huge cracks in it when it dries. I’m pretty sure it’s because of the formula and that it shrinks when it dries, which can also make thinner paper buckle. Also, if you’re painting on paper, if the paper is on the smoother side, areas where the paint is thicker might crack and flake off. It’s still good reliable paint just as long as you’re able to avoid this! You can get a set of 16 colors for $11, or if you’re able to, a set of 36 for $25 at michael’s. You can also buy them individually if you’re only able to afford the primaries like red yellow and blue, or cyan magenta yellow and black (CMYK.) The individuals sell for about $1 each, and the craftsmart paints in particular come in a few different finishes like matte, satin, and metallic. I recommend just the matte to start with though.

Paper/canvas:

1. Canson XL watercolor paper. You can get a pad of 30 sheets in 9x12 at walmart for about $5. The 11x15, if you’re able to afford it, fluctuates from $10-18 depending on where you shop, but michael’s often has a sale on this particular brand of paper pads for bogo or bogo 50% off. They also now have spiral bound books of the same paper that you could tear the pages out of and display, or use as a watercolor sketchbook. Canson also has mixed media paper for about the same price, and the spiral bound book is a very popular choice for a sketchbook, although I’ve used it and I personally prefer the watercolor paper texture much more. If you like your paper on the smoother side though, the mixed media is probably the way to go!

2. Creatology is, I think, a michael’s brand of kids’ art supplies, and they honestly make some pretty nice paper. If you like to draw on thicker paper, they’ve got a paint pad that you could use as just mixed media or regular drawing paper. It’s nice and thick and smooth. Their watercolor paper is also pretty nice! The 9x12 pad is around $3, and has 40 sheets. It’s slightly thinner than the canson watercolor paper, but you get 10 sheets more and it’s cheaper! Also, most regular price items at michael’s (there are a few exclusions, such as their artist’s loft value canvas packs, and their sets of rolling shelves, and cricut products) can be discounted with a coupon! Pretty much every single day the site has a 20% off regular price items coupon, for in store and online (the online code is usually 20MADEBYYOU), so you can always get basically anything for a discount! If you have a rewards account, which you can access through the site or on the app, you’ll get points with the more you buy, and you’ll eventually get $5-10 vouchers! If you’re still trying to be frugal, it’s great for getting basically free items. But I digress.

3. Canvas is expensive as hell, I know. I barely buy it myself, and only started getting it recently, since I mostly worked on paper beforehand. But if you’d like to hang your work easily and are able to put pins/nails in your wall or use command strips, you could get a value pack of canvas from michael’s. I mentioned these before, and they’re one of the items that can’t be discounted with coupons, but they work great and you can get a pack of several at a time. Each pack is the same exact price- $12.99- so it’s easy to remember since it’s consistent. The smaller the size of the canvas, the more canvases you’ll get. For example, in a pack of 8x10, you get 10! If you want the best value and want to create more pieces for less, that’ll be what I recommend! You can also get canvas panels, which lay flat and are easier to store if you’re low on space. The best value there is a pack of 5, size 9x10, for $10. So, it’s not as much material for the price, but if you need the canvas to be smaller, that’ll work just fine!

4. Copy paper!!!!!!!!!!!!! Get a pack of copy paper!!!!!!!!!! It’s literally hundreds of sheets for very cheap, like $5 or less!! Walmart has a pack of 500 for $5. That’s 100 sheets for a dollar. While it won’t work well with paints, it’s great for drawing with basically any drawing material. It’s thin and more fragile than most art paper, but if you need to discard it you won’t feel bad, and there’s literally another sheet right there if you gotta start again. I had a period where I would only basically draw on copy paper when I lost access to free art materials from art school, and it’s fantastic for sketching. Just get a cheap paper folder for about 50 cents to keep your drawings safe, and you’re golden. It’s also great if you don’t wanna use lined paper but can’t afford a sketchbook.

As for digital art; digital is often the most affordable option for a lot of folks, since it requires only, at the minimum, a computer or phone and a drawing program. I’m not as experienced with digital art, but I highly recommend the XP pen tablet. It’s a 4x7 inch little usb tablet, and you can get one on amazon for $20. One purchase that will last you a long time! I’ve had mine for 2 years now, and I haven’t even had to replace the nib yet! For a drawing program, I recommend Krita, which is the only art program I’ve ever used other than microsoft paint 3D. It’s completely free, and has some really lovely brushes. My absolute favorite is the 4B pencil tool, which I use for basically every single digital drawing I make, no joke.

I’d like to also mention that if you’re not able to buy art supplies at all, recycling is a great way to gain materials! Go dumpster diving! Cut open a cereal box and draw on the inside! Draw on old envelopes! Paint on cut open cardboard boxes! Borrow a pencil or pen from a friend! There is sooooo much waste in this country (USA), and even if you’re not on a budget, if you’re able to reduce and reuse, you’ll feel better about reducing your carbon footprint and giving back to the planet.

Lastly, I just wanna say that you don’t need fancy materials to make wonderful art. Nice art materials are good to have, but they’re absolutely not a requirement. You don’t need to pay thousands upon thousands of dollars to go to art school, most often just to get torn down by instructors who don’t care about you or your well being. YOU know what’s best for yourself. Do what feels right. Make art however and whenever you like. Make it for yourself. Learn from yourself and which materials you prefer. I’ve been making art for a long time so I’ve tried a lot of things and a lot of materials, hence why I can make these recommendations, but you might discover something completely different that you really love! Materials do not make the artist, full stop. The art you make will always be valuable and important, no matter what. If you’re still in school, live at home, don’t have a job, or are just not able to buy art supplies for whatever reason, there’s always, always a way to make art. You might have to get a little creative in finding out ways to make art, but I promise you there’s always a way. If later in life you’re able to afford having art as a hobby or a career, you’ll look back on the time you could only access these cheaper materials, and cherish the work you made then. Especially if you’re just starting out, and by the time you’re able to afford higher quality materials, you’re a more experienced artist. I personally think it’s so important to remember where you’ve come from, so you can feel proud of yourself as you grow. There’s nothing more fulfilling than looking back on everything you’ve done and the improvements you’ve made throughout your journey. And like I said, you don’t need to spend thousands on art school to learn. The internet is an amazing resource for tutorials, and there’s no shame at all in using any resource you can to learn and expand your skillset. You deserve to create. You deserve to learn. You deserve to feel proud of yourself and what you make.

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤Art is for everyone.🖤🤎💜💙💚💛🧡❤️

#art supply reccomendations #art supplies #cricket chat #art materials #art resources

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lilbabycee · 5 years ago

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sundown // steve rogers 🌇

↳ summary: steve’s little ray of sunshine isn’t shining so bright.

↳ relationship: steve rogers x reader

↳ word count: 2.5k

↳ warnings: angst angst angst (i was in my feelings with this one), hurt/comfort and some fluff

↳ author’s note: hi! i wrote a kind of sequel to daybreak today! i’ve been stuck in a writing rut for like two weeks but then @pinksdaydream inspired me to write some more for this! 🥰

READ DAYBREAK

A year later and Steve still hasn’t learned his lesson. Every day, he stares for hours at the brightest light that he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing in his many years of life. He can’t believe how close he is, how easily he’s able to touch and feel something- someone so precious. It’s a wonder that he hasn’t been burned yet, but he knows that it’s because this light doesn’t pose a physical threat to him - emotionally, perhaps, but rather, it’s much more the contrary. He basks it in, soaks in its warmth and revels in its brilliance all because he’s allowed to. He’s allowed to because this light is his.

It’s you.

You’re not perfect - you tripped on the fluffy white rug in the living room and subsequently ran into the sharp marble corner of the kitchen island this morning alone - but you’re still his. However, this time you’re awake and standing in the kitchen - too far away from him. One of his grey Henley’s shields your entire upper half from his eager gaze and he silently curses himself for throwing you that shirt when you’d asked for one - if he was smarter, he would’ve just insisted that you walk around naked. He knows that your legs are completely bare, but his vivid imagination has to be the one to conjure up the image of those miles of exposed skin because his view is obstructed by the kitchen counter. For now, he’s stuck admiring you from the waist up. He bets that he could rip the counter right out of the tiled floor if he tried hard enough, but he knows that as of right now, he has more restraint than that.

No matter what time of the day, not once in any of those twenty-four hours for the past one-thousand-one-hundred-and-eighteen days has he failed to be amazed by how you can make him feel like the asthmatic man he was all of those years ago by simply walking into a room, no matter whether or not you even know that he’s there. You’ve been quieter than usual lately, running endless back-to-back sprints as opposed to marathons inside your brain that wear you out because you refuse to take a water break. He knows what this is - he’s seen it before, watched you run so far only to drop the baton in the relay race at the most critical moment. And as much as he can coach you to not push so hard and pace your running, in the end, you’re the only one who can really make those decisions for yourself.

Of course, you always take his advice in stride, using it to propel yourself those last few meters to the finish line. But time and time again, he’s watched you fall short, letting all the different facets of your overactive and often noisy brain speed past you to snap that finish line tape in half much like the way that they break your soul. Your aura dims considerably in moments like these, despite the glow of the late afternoon sun swallowing the white walls of your apartment and spitting out rays of golden light. One shines right on your face and Steve almost laughs - it’s as if the sun itself knows how deserving you are of the limelight - a star in his eyes having taken center stage in the production of his life.

He’d let you take all of the attention any day. But you’re not like that - as much as you can be his little social butterfly, the taste of pink lemonade and cherry lollipops in your speech, there are still those days when he can both physically and emotionally see you sink in on yourself, the words you speak stinging him in a way that makes his entire body shudder just thinking about it. They always taste like copper to him.

He knows that you don’t mean it. It’s the way you’ve always been and who is he to think that he’s entitled to make you change it? But the way that you deal with what goes on inside your head isn’t healthy. He knows that. You know it, too. And you’re trying. That’s all he can ask for.

And so here he sits on the floor of your living room, large body wedged in the sizable space between the coffee table and the couch that his back rests against. You’re directly in his line of sight - still too far away - but that’s okay because even though you haven’t spared him a glance or uttered a word to him in the past hour, at least you’re together.

Sometimes he regrets the mantle that he carries around - Captain America. True, it is such an integral part of him but he can’t help but resent it some days. It keeps him away from you all too often. Time and time again, people have chased him just to meet the man in red, white, and blue. They’re not interested in the man behind the shield and honestly, he doesn’t know if he is either. There have been plenty of times where he’s spiraled into an identity crisis, unable to separate Steve Rogers from his superhero persona.

But every single time, you’ve been there to work through it right alongside him. You’ve dealt with him at his very lowest - when he was in a hole deeper than rock bottom and couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed in the morning. So there has not been even one moment when Steve has thought about leaving you alone when you get like this. He now knows not to pry just as well as he knows that you don’t want to be by yourself in times like these. You may not explicitly vocalize it, but in the seconds when you do meet his stare across the dinner table or right before you fall asleep, he can see the love housed in the depths of your eyes and that’s more than enough for him.

His own eyes haven’t left you for the better part of the hour. His favorite black leather-bound sketchbook is open to what was once a blank page at the beginning of the day but is now an almost complete sketch of the angel in front of him. The luminosity of the sun on your body reveals your halo, usually hidden during the day but in rare moments like these, he’s able to appreciate your otherworldly presence casually standing in the middle of his kitchen with a hand propped against the edge of the counter. A notebook is set in front of you and Steve never thought that he could be so jealous of an inanimate object before - it’s held your undivided attention for hours.

His eyes widen as you shift, leaning forwards to rest both of your elbows on the counter top to type something on your open laptop and giving him a clear view of your breasts through the gap in the front of your shirt. Your lips have been wrapped around a ballpoint pen for virtually the whole day which is how he knows you’ve been working hard because sucking on the ends of pens always helps you focus. He, on the other hand, can’t seem to focus at all as soon as you whip out one of those godforsaken pens. Steve swallows hard - almost immediately regretting wearing grey sweatpants as he adjusts the crotch as subtly as he can - and tears his eyes away from you to flip to a new page, sketching profusely so as to immortalize this moment in his sketchbook before his mind can even dare to forget it.

In his haste, he doesn’t even realize when the silence is broken by the chime of your voice.

“Steve. Steve.”

His hand moves fast and he’s squinting at the page in concentration, willing his brain to hold onto the picture of you bent over the kitchen counter as if he doesn’t have the real thing standing right in front of him-

“Stevie,” you call out, your brow furrowing slightly in concern. This makes his head snap up - finally - and you can’t help but notice how blown his pupils are and how strategic the placement of his sketchbook seems to be. You can pinpoint the exact moment that he starts to panic. For someone who is usually so stoic, he wears his heart proudly on his sleeve. Realization quite literally dawns on his face but it does nothing to alleviate the dusting of light pink across his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, baby,” his unused voice is raspy but he doesn’t bother clearing his throat, as if he knows exactly how it makes you clench your thighs together where he can’t see them. “I was just really invested in- uh,” he hesitates, gesturing vaguely at the page that you can’t see, “the sketch. What’s goin’ on, doll?”

And the flower of your heart blooms at the look in those eyes that remind you so much of April showers, those eyes that are filled to the brim with the rain that has watered all of the dead and decaying blossoms that line your stomach, crawl up to your ribs and up your throat, their vines climbing up through your skull to wrap around your brain. That look alone, framed by those insanely long eyelashes, has extended a helping hand to your beaten-down spirit, telling it to dust itself off and keep going.

“You’re staring, sweetheart,” Steve’s sinfully pink lips quirk up into a demure smile as he teases you, his thick beard shielding the brief flash of white teeth. You decided a long time ago that the beard has been the best thing to happen to you, as is the long hair that he’s currently running his hands through.

“Sorry,” you say but continue to stare unabashedly at his beautiful face because you don’t mean it. You can’t help the way that your eyes trail down his chest that has woefully been covered by one of his too-tight black t-shirts, though you don’t miss the way that it strains against his bulging biceps, nor the way that it’s slightly rucked up at the bottom which gives you an eyeful of the dark blonde wisps of hair that travel downwards towards one of your favorite parts of his body.

Steve, always so perceptive, doesn’t miss where your gaze has traveled, and he can’t help the self-satisfied smirk that grows on his face. It’s easy to forget that you’ve been down for these past few days when you have seconds like these in between those tired hours when you oversleep and he hasn’t slept at all because he’s too busy watching you.

“See somethin’ you like, baby?” he hums, continuing his sketch absent-mindedly because he knows that the image of you standing in front of him like a dream will forever be ingrained into his memory.

Heat ignites your veins and blooms in your cheeks; you can’t help it when you look away, smiling shyly to the side. Steve has resigned himself to the fact that you won’t answer, going back to tracing careful lines with the point of his pencil.

“In fact, I do,” you murmur, knowing that if it was anybody else, they wouldn’t have heard you. Steve’s eyes meet yours and you can almost taste the saltiness of the ocean on your tongue as he drowns you in their depths. He stands abruptly, casting his book to the side carelessly and taking long strides to get to where you are.

Once his hand lands on your hip, the warmth seeps in through the cotton of your shirt and melts your entire body; it catalyzes the small eruption of the volcano in your chest, causing the burning lava of the breath that you didn’t know you were holding to spill over and out of your mouth in an audible sigh. His other hand soon joins the first, framing your body and pulling you back into him. You stare down at the dusting of hair on his forearms when he slips them around your waist and you squeal when he turns you around in his hold, meeting your eyes with a softness that you weren’t expecting.

“Do you wanna talk about what’s goin’ on with you, sweetheart?” he probes lightly in that same low voice, recognizing your deflection and not wanting to cause that volcano to explode. You bite the inside of your cheek, avoiding eye contact because you don’t want him to worry (you don’t know that he worries about you every second of every day because you’re almost his entire heart) but he grasps your jaw in his right hand. He ducks his head down a little, trying to catch your darting eyes. When they finally rest on him, he thinks that he’s dying because your stare is glassy and your lip is trembling.

“Baby,” he coos, tugging you into his chest. You relent, releasing your hold on his forearms to throw your arms around his middle. It’s hard to hold back the tears anymore: Steve’s concern has kicked down the fragile floodgates of your emotional control. Pressing your head into his chest, he says nothing while your body shakes but it’s better this way. You know that you’d only cry even more if he started speaking. Instead, you inhale gasping breaths between babbling as you try to explain why you haven’t been yourself recently. He listens attentively, rubbing circles into your back and dropping frequent kisses on your forehead.

The room is more orange than yellow by the time you can finally speak coherently.

“M’sorry,” you sniffle into his shirt, fists clenching the material tightly. He pushes you away from him so there’s just enough space for him to lift his hands to your face. Slowly, he wipes any residual tears from your cheeks and underneath your eyes with this thumbs.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, baby,” he speaks softly, your face still in his hands when he presses a kiss to your nose, both of your now mostly dry cheeks, and then right on top of your lips. It’s chaste, only lasting about a second but it makes your soul sing nonetheless.

You stand in silence for a beat longer, merely staring into each other’s eyes before something flashes in Steve’s eyes. You squish your face to his body again, feeling his chest rise slightly, signifying that he’s about to speak.

“What did you need before, sweetheart?”

You’re confused.

“What do you mean?

“When you were calling me before - what did you need?”

Now you get it.

“Oh- I was just going to ask what you wanted for dinner...”

Your voice falters at the end because - and you have no clue why - this makes Steve throw his head back as he barks out a surprised laugh. You frown, narrowing your eyes at him slightly.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing - I just love you, that’s all,” he clarifies, casually throwing the sentiment out there because it’s so easy with you. It’s always easy, even when it’s not.

“I love you, too,” you place a lingering kiss on his jaw before pulling back to stare in his eyes with a grave expression on your face. Now it’s his turn to frown in confusion. “But seriously, what do you want for dinner?”

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oldguardhc · 4 years ago

Text

Old Guard hc #43

Prompt number: 7 - “Yes I did, what about it?”

Fandom: The Old Guard

Rating: PG-13

Warnings/Tags: joe x nicky, sad Joe

AN: It was supposed to be happy and fluffy.

Nile holds up an old plain blue sketchbook. There’s a tiny heart etched into the bottom right corner with the name Pedro written in a neat scrawl in the center. Joe’s 92% sure it was Booker who did it and not Andy. “Did you really fill out an entire sketchbook with just drawings of a frog Pillow Pet?”

Joe grins and holds his hands out. “Yes, I did! What about it?”

Nile tosses him the book, her forehead crinkling, no doubt wondering how this is her life. “How do you know about Pillow Pets?”

“How do you know about Pillow Pets?” Joe shoots back, flipping the book open. Most of the sketches were done with a ballpoint pen, the cheap BIC ones that came out to be pennies at the end.

“I was in the targeted audience,” Nile says, arms crossed and shoulders raised. “They played those commercials so much that I was dreaming about a ladybug Pillow Pet every night.”

Despite having absolutely no idea what Nile looked like as a child, a little Nile begging for a bright red Pillow Pet easily forms in his mind. He pictures little Nile quickly ditching the usual begging method when it doesn’t work to begin listing all the reasons why she deserved one. “Did you get one?”

“Did I—of course I got one! Did you really think I would take no as an answer?” Joe laughs and shakes his head. If he didn’t personally know Andy, he would think Nile was the most stubborn person alive. How she survived so long in the Marines was an absolute mystery to Joe. “I was part of a kid’s debate team. My mom likes to joke that it was the worst decision of her life.” The light in Nile’s eyes dim as she realizes what she just said and she falls silent, face closing off.

He would be so much better at this than me, Joe thinks and viciously slams that train of thought down. He wracks his brain for something to say, anything that isn’t a bad apology.

Nile blinks, clears her throat, and any opportunity for Joe to say something disappears. “Your turn, why do you have a frog Pillow Pet? At least, I’m assuming you have one because,” she trails off, pointing to the book in his hands.

Joe shrugs, aims for casual as he flips through the pages. “Booker gave it to me.”

He fails. Spectacularly, if the way Nile’s lips twist says anything. Joe pretends not to see it, stares down at a rushed sketch that’s sloppily shaded, rubbing his thumb across the sharp edge of the paper.

“Oh,” Nile says, small and quiet, falling silent once again. It’s like now that they’ve acknowledged it, the only thing they can feel is the gaping hole in the shape of a depressed French man.

Anger wells in his chest.

Fuck you, Joe wants to snarl, Fuck you, you selfish asshole. Pedro smiles innocently at him from the page and it’s too much. It’s too much.

Joe slams the sketchbook shut, flings it onto the table. “Excuse me,” he doesn’t wait for Nile to reply, already making his way to the backyard.

For a couple of blessed seconds, the loud bang! from the door drowns out Booker’s disbelief laughter, his small, “You really like it?” Joe’s stupid, “I love it!”

Joe wants to strangle them both.

Joe closes his eyes and Booker’s pleased smile haunts him, the stupid one he always got every time he saw Joe with Pedro.

Fuck you, for making me love you.

Joe sucks in a sharp breath and is mortified when it catches in his throat.

How could you give us up? How could you—

“Joe?” Joe whirls around, fists raised and ready to strike. It’s just Nicky though. Nicky, who takes one look at him and proceeds to wrap him up in a protective embrace.

Joe crumbles into Nicky’s body, giving up the losing fight against the tears. He buries his face in Nicky’s neck, hiccuping as a fresh wave of sadness crashes over him. It curls in his chest, wraps it’s cold tendrils around his throat and heart, squeezing until Joe regrets ever loving Sebastien Le Livre.

“I hate him,” Joe chokes out. “I fucking hate him.”

Nicky squeezes him tighter, rests his head on top of Joe’s. “No you don’t,” he says softly. “It wouldn’t hurt if you didn’t love him.”

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Joe loved him, loved that drunk bastard so much, that he let him take a too big piece of himself and now Joe doesn’t know how to live without that piece.

That asshole. That fucking asshole.

“I hate him,” Joe repeats, shaking as another sob wracks through his body. “I hate him.”

He wishes he never met Sebastien Le Livre.

Joe has never been good at lying to himself.

#joe x nicky #the old guard #nile freeman #booker #fictober20 #hc

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paint-lady · 4 years ago

Note

for the artist ask meme if thats okay. 6/7/9??

6. tag your favorite artists/inspirations!

I take inspiration and lessons from a variety of sources. Some I have met in person and studied with. Some I gaze longingly at their artbooks, aching for the opportunity to see them at a con. Some are long gone.

Heavy Inking Style: > Tim Bradstreet: known for his VTM drawings and black and white and grey drawings. I prefer bradstreets ink style and realistic detail to Lief Jone's more cartoony (but absolutely fitting) methodology. Below is one of my favorite pieces, and you see it all over the place for VTM things. I did my inktober challenges to teach myself his style. And I haven't regretted a single moment that I can utilize this technique.

Frank Cho and Sabine Rich Now. I use this artist more as a frame of reference of what not to do. However, there is technique. How Cho does his crosshatching to convey depth and form is wild to me. I have attempted this a few times and my results vary. Freehanding with ballpoint pens isn't easy. Keeping consistency with all your line work and weights BY HAND is harder. He tends to have a harsh outline to all of his comic book characters- which I find visually appealing. I borrowed his stylistic hatching and outlines in my work- and i really dig my version of it.

Sabine Rich is Cho's go to colorist. I find her soft shading a challenge to replicate, but ultimately it has aided my comic book style. I really like how she does shiny surfaces and how she utilizes blues/turquoises for highlights. Her ability to see shadows and highlights in plain lineart is really cool.

Comic Styles Inspiration:

MONSTRESS by Sana Takeda and Marjorie Liu

Yall. This comic is beautiful. I study this one for details and monsters, and watercolor style. It is absolutely breathtaking- every single page.

The Marked by David Hine, Brian Haberlin, and Gierrod Van Dyke

This one reminds me "less is more" in a very magical way and modern comic book style. The movement in each panels is always really compelling- even when the story isn't. There is a wonderful pacing their panel work enhances that some comics do not have.

I also take a lot of techniques from my scenic art studies and from the lord of the paint, Bob Ross. Work background to foreground and there are no mistakes, only happy accidents. I translate this to this:

The beauty about paint is if you mess up, you just go over it. The beauty about digital art is if you mess up, you press control z.

7. do you prefer sketching, outlining, or coloring?

Depends on the day and my mood and if Artemis has been given proper tribute. I really enjoy sketching, but sometimes the movement is not with me. I find coloring very relaxing, but a lot of times go back and change my colors because I don't like the way it looks when it has color. I like my line art to be crisp and clean, which counters my rough sketch style and paint techniques. So probably sketching.

9. what drawing program do you use? (if the artist does digital art)

I use a variety of programs. Mostly, I use Clip Studio Paint EX. I paid real people money for a Pro License and right now pay a monthly subscription for EX's publishing software. When work is more steady I will bite the bullet and fully upgrade. Clip Studio has a free version, with some severe limitations. I purchased the Pro license when they had a sale, reducing the cost to 60 USD. Absolutely worth it. The downsides to Clip Studio: It sometimes markets itself as Vector Software. IT! IS! NOT! Its vector capabilities are geared towards animation (iirc) and that differs from Logo design and text art. There is no need to purchase EX unless you are animating, creating webcomics (like me), or doing massive files (like me but thats just cuz im dumb and couldnt find the purge button).

Prior to CSPEX I used Autodesk Sketchbook. It is a much more basic software, but let you get decent resolution on BIG canvases. I recommend it to people who have tablets but find Photoshop overwhelming. I recommend it for people that want to do digital art on their phones but Photoshop and Clip Studio drain their battery.

I use Adobe Illustrator for text. Clip Studio's text editor is GARBAGE. It is slow, clunky, and has limited options to manipulate the text. I tend to use the program to create placeholder text and speech bubbles, but then do all the real editing in Illustrator.

#steph answers questions #thanks for the ask!#art stuff #stephanie's sketchbook

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landeg · 4 years ago

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31 Days of Apex: A Retrospection

I participated in the incredible #31DaysOfApex challenge hosted on Twitter, where fans created new content for every day of July based on a one-word prompt. I’ve signed up for/started lots of similar challenges in the past but always ended up having to drop out or trail off before the end... but this time, I managed to complete something for every day of the challenge!

My only goal was to make something by each day’s deadline, and it was a really interesting exercise both in technical skill and also in my management of not only my time, but my expectations and energy. Below, I go into more detail behind each piece.

To preface; the beginning of this challenge coincided with the beginning of a new personal time-management exercise where, for 5/7 days a week, I would only go on the computer at night. Combined with the deadline, this had an interesting effect on my time management and the quality of certain pieces.

Day 1 - Memory

From the start, I wanted to use the challenge as an opportunity to do more studies and to push myself wherever possible. This was the first piece I did and I had more time to work on it, so I used it as a digital painting study. I still think it’s a strong piece and it’s probably my favourite of the month. Symbolically, this character’s backstory doesn’t match up with her own memories, so the idea is she’s missing information she can’t quite place or remember, and this both scares and comforts her.

Day 2 - Blood

Another digital painting and lighting study that didn’t work out as well as the first, mostly due to time constraints meaning I couldn’t scrap it and start again. While I don’t like how it turned out, I did learn a lot. The character on the right is a field medic, and my intent was to show the calm after a successful rescue.

Day 3 - Mercy

Some days I relied more on the humour of a piece’s concept than the skill of its execution, though I also liked how this piece turned out artistically. After two days of intense studies, though, this was very quick and easy for me to turn out as it relied on existing skills.

Day 4 - Prize

This one thankfully came together very quickly, which I credit to the two previous painting studies making it much easier to achieve what I wanted. The character is searching for the disembodied head of the man who killed her parents, who is now acting as a robot, hence the vaguely half-machine-half-human silhouette in her hand.

Day 5 - Family

Another quick, simple illustration under a time crunch. The character framed by the nameless foreground figures has no memory of herself or her family.

Day 6 - Noise

For some pieces where I was under a time crunch, I experimented in an opposite direction; instead of studies, I played loosely with different techniques/brushes/etc to see what came out. This was a lineless style I ended up employing a lot when short on time. The piece pictured here was just one of four alternate colourways, presented in a pop-art style. The character is almost always depicted with thick coverings over her ears, so I thought she might be sensitive to auditory overload. This particular piece was retweeted by the character’s voice actress!

Day 7 - Mask

More relying on humour for lack of time/a better idea. A fun experiment in colour, though.

Day 8 - Healing

Another technically “easy” piece but with a stronger concept. It was actually pretty hard to get the reflection & condensation elements balanced right. The character pictured has a narrative thread relating to an old ex he has trouble moving on from.

Day 9 - Weapon

While obviously another joke, and made to be finished quickly, it was surprisingly difficult to get the duct tape and knife to read clearly without over-cluttering the lineless image. This little ‘bot is a drone used by one of the playable characters to hack areas of the map; it’s not NORMALLY an offensive weapon. This image was promo’d in a video stream by the character’s voice actor!

Day 10 - Truth

I only had less than an hour to finish this one by the deadline, but I still tried to experiment with silhouette and colour. It was surprisingly hard to get the interior silhouette to be legible. The outer silhouette is a playable character (not easily readible unless you’re familiar with his design) and the inner silhouette is his sister, whose disappearance he is trying to investigate.

Day 11 - Shield

A fun, self-indulgent one. Had a blast simplifying the game’s characters down into little caricatures. The character in the centre has abilities related to shields and protection, so many other people were drawing him for the prompt; I wanted to try and flip it, so I picked other characters he would be friendly with, and picked a non-lethal, lighthearted setting.

Day 12 - Ruins

Short on time so did a quick lighting study. A recent game plot has changed one of the areas of the map, submerging it in water and leaving it to “ruin”.

Day 13 - Hero

Another painting study. Really didn’t like how this one turned out, but had to turn in something, and I did learn a lot in the process. If I’d had more time I probably would’ve scrapped it and started again. This characters had recently been revealed to have been manipulated by another character who used gas-based offenses, whom she admired.

Day 14 - Rest

I was going to be away from mt computer until after the deadline, so I decided to make a traditional piece. I ended up enjoying it so much I tried to take the time to do a few more traditional pieces later. This piece was sort of a comedy of errors; I had to do it while I was out, and the pen I had brought with me to ink my sketch ran out, so I had to make do with a blue ballpoint pen, and I was missing several colours of coloured pencil. I think the finished piece reflects how rushed it was, and it did’t meet my concept, but I do still like it.

Day 15 - Skull

Another quick one but I wanted to experiment with a different line style. Wanted a sort of “graffiti” effect. One of this character’s skins includes a skull-shaped mask.

Day 16 - Growth

Extremely quick play on words because I didn’t have the time to work on anything meaningful and couldn’t think of anything better!

Day 17 - Home

Another traditional piece, this time by choice and with more time. Markers. It looks extremely like some janky art school homework on 2 point perspective because it extremely is. Perspective and backgrounds are very difficult for me - they just don’t “click” - but I had a lot of fun with this one. I kept my mistakes intact because I didn’t want to edit it too much. A lot about the technical perspective is wrong, but I think I achieved the “mood” I wanted. This location is a bar owned by one of the player characters where many of the other characters are shown to meet.

Day 18 - Sky

Very happy with how this one turned out, even though there are still lots of problems. Markers again. There’s a lot I would fix next time, and I think technically it’s lacking, but there are some specific areas I feel happy to have achieved, such as the almost brushed texture of the curved metal above his shoulder and the values of the shadow/reflections on the underside of the head piece. I’m also happy with how I was able to draw from my shoulder rather than my wrist when inking the curved lines, something I struggle with.

Day 19 - Target

An experiment in pushing the lineless style I’d already been playing with for a stronger likeness. The pose and expression in this could both be pushed more but I like the result. This character had just learned that one of the other players, whom she had trusted, was actually sharing her secrets with her enemy, and she didn’t know which one it was.

Day 20 - Friendship

I had this one concepted from when I first looked over the prompts. It was a fun challenge trying to simplify all the elements into the lineless, blocky style while being legible. This character has a strained relationship with one of his friends, and finally pushed her too far with his selfishness, and she now no longer responds to him.

Day 21 - Scar

Quick joke. This character was introduced briefly as a red herring for another character before being killed off. He was stabbed through the chest by another character’s hand, hence the scar pattern.

Day 22 - Dream

I wasn’t sure about this one while I was making it but I ended up liking how it turned out. I wanted to capture the character’s robotic legs bent at an unnaturally straight 90 degrees, like a Barbie doll. The flat background and lighting make it feel like an indoor stage. The little “electric sheep” are inspired by iDogs.

Day 23 - Meal

After a few days of not having time to really spend on any piece, it was fun to get to spend time on concepting and composing this. I always admired these kinds of watercolour-like food illustrations and this is the first time I’ve had any success in creating one myself. I concepted and sketched out the individual items traditionally before working out the composition within the box digitally. Each food item/utensil is inspired by the different characters’ design elements. Only two of the now-current characters are excluded due to plot reasons. In particular, I like how one of the character’s dome-shaped shields acts as the base and cover of the box.

Day 24 - Hobby

Wasn’t a fan of how this one turned out. I think the likeness is a bit off, and his facial anatomy is skewed. But I also like how the general composition, tone, and bee turned out. This character’s concept art originally imagined them as a beekeeper who would use smoke to fight.

Day 25 - Fear

An incredibly rushed piece that I intended to go back in and add more detail to, similar to day 4, but I actually took a step back and decided I liked the blocky, flat-colour version. This character is the youngest of four, all of whom are MIA or worse, along with his father, and his mother is losing her memory. He’s talking to her through a handheld holographic device. This piece gained more traction, most likely thanks to the subject matter since this is a popular character.

Day 26 - Holiday

I didn’t want to do a religious holiday like Christmas or Easter. A lot of other people also interpreted the prompt as a vacation, but I had already done a sort of “beach vacation” piece for day 11, so I instead went for a “public holiday” and chose NYE/NYD. This was fairly quick but the lighting was an interesting experiment. I knew this one wouldn’t be as popular because it wasn’t as “flattering” but I personally really like it. The girl on the left is kind of goofy and completely un-self-conscious and I think it’s captured here.

Day 27 - Music

Really didn’t like how this one turned out. I don’t think the likeness is good at all, the lighting is poor, and the gold detailing feels lazy. But I liked other elements, such as the pose and the clothing.

Day 28 - Treasure

This is my least favourite of the entire month, but I also had the least time available to work on it before the deadline so I had no opportunity to scrap it and start over, which I sorely wanted to do. The likeness is terrible, but more than that the base anatomy is off, the pose is stiff, and the lighting/colours are cheap. I wish I could’ve done better by this character; but, I am glad I had something finished at all.

Day 29 - Skin

This was probably my third attempt at this picture and I’m still not happy with it, but again, I had to finish something. I almost considered scrapping the concept entirely and choosing something easier but ended up seeing it through. The concept itself is actually recycled from an older piece of mine for an entirely different fandom, because I didn’t think I did it justice then, either. Would still like to revisit this concept with this character and take more time.

Day 30 - Trust

After a few days of feeling really dissatisfied and uncomfortable with the art I’d been making, I finally more time to dedicate to a piece, and I’m overall happy with how this one turned out. I decided to go for a different medium entirely with pixel art, which also gave me the opportunity to try and animate it. I started off confident and then started to get worried towards the end, but all the elements came together when I added the portal colour effects. This is an alternate reality version of one of the player characters, who appears through a portal and allows that character to escape the facility she’s being kept in, encouraging them to trust the “voices” she hears which are actually versions of herself trying to help her. This piece was retweeted by the official Apex Legends Twitter account!

Day 31 - Freestyle

I had this planned out early in the challenge and I’m really, really happy with how it turned out. It’s probably tied with my favourite along with the very first piece (how fitting). I was worried about how I was going to capture the movement without over-complicating the lineart, having so many people in one image, etc. before I realised the focus was entirely on gesture, and then everything clicked. I went for a thicker brush, which forced me to conserve my lines, and tried to simplify each character down to the bare minimum needed to recognise them. They’re also all wearing new non-canonical outfits so I used their familiar colour schemes for the same purpose. It’s not perfect, but I love it, and it’s everything I’d hoped I’d be able to end the challenge on.

I really, really enjoyed the entire month and the way it tied in with my new time management schedule. It gave me some achievable short-term goals which added up to this long-term achievement I can now look back on; I learned a lot both about balancing my energy and about technical skills, I found ways to stay motivated, and most importantly I learned to not get caught up on the individual slip-ups and pieces I didn’t like as much and to instead focus on the bigger picture. Thank you to everyone involved in organising and supporting this event! I found so many other incredible fanartists, writers, and content creators through this challenge and I can’t wait to see the bonus content released over August!

#31 Days of Apex #31DaysOfApex #highlights

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caesarsbuddy · 5 years ago

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your art is fucking amazing! any tips for people trying to learn? things like shading and sketching or whatnot that you can think of!!

((Hahaaa I wrote the longest reply and then my worthless laptop crashed :) Round two!))

Thank yoouu

A quick note before rambling on (again) that if you only see art as a hobby and fun thing to do once in a while, don’t feel the pressure that you *have* to improve, there is no one way or correct way to create art. Some people might argue with me on that but, who made the rules? No one, there are no rules. Just have fun!

I’m no professional, this is a hobby of mine that I can’t live without, and had I followed my own advice I would have come further. I highly suggest you do anatomy studies, whether it’s humans or animals, and even separate body parts to better understand how they move. A tip is to draw what you see and not what you (already) know. Might not make sense now, but it will! Don’t be afraid to use references when actually drawing, if something feels off about maybe an arm, do some google searches and odds are you’ll find out what’s wrong and fix it and you’ll remember for next time how it’s supposed to look! I still do this, it’s a never-ending learning cycle.

Shading comes down to how things are shaped and how light bounces off of it. You usually get some shading/lighting practice done while doing anatomy studies, but it’s always good to look at photos with harder lighting to better see how things are shaped/built. Pay attention to hard and soft shadows! And don’t start off with multiple lightsource photos, start simple with a single lightsource, those can be hard enough.

There’s no correct way to sketches, just work how it feels right to you. The sketch is the most important part of a piece, so if it takes an extra three hours, that’s fine. With digital art you get a million do-overs, so there’s no harm in experimenting and trying different things. If you want to feel more confident and perhaps be able to sketch faster I’d suggest you do those anatomy studies with a ballpoint pen on paper, or any other pen you can’t erase, so you can see the errors and prevent them the next time.

If you don’t have a naturally improved or highly observing eye when it comes to colours I’d suggest you do colour studies from photos and movies, and study colour theory. I’ve never done this, but I don’t know if it’s because of either two options or that I’m stupid, but I’ve been doing fine I think, by looking at other artists and how they do it, picking out small details and using those techniques myself.

General tips:- If you’re drawing/painting digitally, don’t shade with pure black unless you’re doing like a stylized and high contrast piece. Use blues, reds, purples etc of the darker values. - Shade with a cool dark colour and highlight with a warm light colour, or vise versa for a I guess more natural look, but don’t make them overly saturated.- Explore with brushes, what works for another artist might not work for you. The skill is not in the brush itself, but the use of the brush.- Do the other eye- Don’t hide the hands… no not the feet either- You don’t need to have one singular style, I mean look at what I do, it feels like every single piece is in a different style, depending on my mood and what I have time for- Eyeballs are not pure white- You can make something highly contrast-y without using pure black and white or really dark and really light, it’s all about what the colours look like next to each other

Here’s some neat-o sources;Anatomy360ProkoExpression practiceFigure drawing onlineVishstudio (male bodybuilders, great to see how muscles work and look)Blender Guru colour theory (there’s a bunch out there, this is just one)

Always good to kinda like sit down and look at the artists you like and ask yourself ‘why do I like this artist’ and go into detail. Like how they use colour, how they do lineart, hair, anatomy, whatever, and then you can study their techniques and try to implement that into your art (without copying their style you know).I think the most recent time I did something like this I was wondering how an artist made the seemingly blue reflective light look so good but when I did it it looked too saturated and I just couldn’t get it to work. I simply used the eyedrop tool and checked what the actual colour was and who woulda thunk, it’s not blue at all, it’s grey! It only looks blue because of the colour it’s next to. I took that shit to heart my dude.

This got extremely long and I couldn’t possibly have included everything, so if you have any more questions, please feel free to send me another message!

#Anonymous #this is extremely long #so bear with me #long post

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nautiscarader · 5 years ago

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Wendip Week 2019 day 2 - Why are you wearing my clothes?

(Ao3)

- Why are you wearing my clothes?

Strangely, the first question Dipper asked the kid standing in front of him wasn't the one he should be asking. Fortunately, he came to his senses just a minute later.

- And why do you *look* like me?!

The mysterious kid blinked, though he apparently couldn't see the striking similarities. He was younger than Dipper, maybe around 10 years old, but he was wearing his trademark white-blue hat, a dark blue vest, and an orange shirt. The only element of his physique different from Dipper was his red, curly hair, well-hidden under his hat, and green eyes, looking at him with curiosity.

- I... I don't know.

Perhaps the only stranger thing about the boy's appearance was where Dipper has found him: in the forest, just a few minutes away from the Mystery Shack. Dipper was cataloguing the ever-changing routes and landmarks of he forest, when he spotted the boy that seemingly has appeared there out of nowhere.

Dipper walked around the boy, paying close attention to all the details he might have missed. He spotted a badge of some sorts pinned to his vest, a ballpoint pen tucked in his pocket, and some sort of notepad sticking out of another. The boy took out a package of chewing gums and began munching on one, while he eyed Dipper with equally confused looks.

- Hey, dude! - a familiar, jovial tone reached Dipper's ears, together with rustling of grass, moving away under Soos' heavy footsteps. - Whatchu' doing there? - Soos, I found this weird kid, and-and-and he looks like me!

Dipper grabbed the kid and pushed him to his side, much to his surprise.

- See? - Woah, dude! You're right! - Soos exclaimed - It's like a mini-you... except the hair... - I know, and he just... appeared here. I was redoing the maps, you know, and he... he was just here, as if he teleported or something! It was weird!

Soos' eyes suddenly opened wide, and he grabbed Dipper by the neck to pull him aside.

- Dude! I figured it out! - he whispered, turning back to the newly found kid. - What? - You say he came out of nowhere, looks like you, and even behaves like you!

The two looked back and stared at the boy, sketching something in his notepad.

- Don't you get it? - No...

Soos grabbed his shoulders a and pushed his face uncomfortably close to his.

- He. Is. Your. Kid! - he spoke - From the future!

At that revelation, Dipper gasped and took a step back, looking back and forth at Soos and the boy. His first thought would be that it was one of the clones he made years ago, that must have mutated... But Soos' explanation made much, much more sense.

- You... you're right! - he wheezed - But why would he be there? You think there's a problem in the future he wants to warn us about? - Maybe... - Soos scratched his chin - Maybe there's a robot uprising! Maybe he was the last human to solve those annoying anti-robot puzzles on-line, and he had to escape! - Wow, my son is so brave... - Dipper shed a tear - Why is his hair red, though?

Soos raised his brow.

- Er, isn't it obvious, dude?

It took Dipper another second or so for the realisation to hit him, and the sheer power of future consequences forced him to fall to the ground.

- We-Wendy? Me-Me and We-Wendy?

A massive mixture of joy, pride, but also guilt and pain seared through his chest. He was still in love with her, no matter how hard he tried not to, cherishing their friendship and every moment with her, but the memories of their not-exactly break-up was still vivid in his mind, and the thought he might screw something up again was devastating. But at the same time, a new sensation filled his soul, inflating him like a balloon. In front of him stood the proof that not everything was lost, and that he still might have a chance.

- Okay, but how do we prove it? - Dipper asked Soos in the conspiratorial voice. - Easy - he replied - Hey, kiddo? Where are your parents? - There - the boy pointed to the Shack, barely visible through the trees. - See? - Wait, we need something more... - Dipper muttered - Hey, do you have a phone? - No. - he replied, not taking eyes from his notepad, where he was tracing leaves. - I knew it! - Soos said under his breath - He's from the future, so they probably have laser communicators! Okay, one last proof. What would you name your and Wendy's child?

Dipper's cheeks turned crimson again, at the mere thought of him and Wendy sharing their future.

- I, I don't know. - he stuttered - I, I would have to talk it over with Wendy, I mean, it's our kid, so I can't *not* take her opinions into consideration. I mean, if it was a girl, then her mom's name, and if it's a boy, then-then... - Dude, quick answer! - Soos slapped him gently to stop blabbering. - Danny! - I would call my son Danny, Danny Pines. That sounds nice, right?

Soos turned to the boy, who seemed to have lost interest in an adult and a teenager talking about him all the time.

- Hey, boy, what's your name?

He looked up from his drawing. The boy's eyes met with Dipper's, and he said his name.

- Daniel.

Dipper and Soos let out a breathless gasps, as they stormed to the child, who now looked a bit concerned, moving his head back and forth, as he eyed the two.

- Okay, son, I - Dipper paused - I mean, sonny, Danny. You have to tell us about where are you from. I mean, what year are you from? Is the economy stable? Are-Are the ice caps still there? - Is the Super Panda Ninja still on? Please don't tell me they cancelled Super Panda Ninja! - Er...

Danny looked at the two weirdos and tucked his legs and arms closer to his body, as he curled up on the rock he was sitting on.

- I... My parents tell me not to talk to strangers. - Oh, right. - Dipper suddenly regained his senses, and let go of him - That is right, of course, that's what I would have taught my son to do.

The two took a step away from Danny, letting him have some of the personal space.

- That drawing you made looks cool - Dipper smiled, and watched as Danny's face brightens. - Really? - Sure, dude! - Soos added. - Thanks - he sniffed - My dad likes to draw. - Yeah, I'm-I'm sure he does - Dipper replied, feeling goosebumps all over his skin. - But still, er, we would like to know, why are you here, exactly? - We... we came for a trip... - Danny relaxed - To see the forest and mountains.

Dipper and Soos exchanged nervous looks.

- Me must have messed up the planet badly in the future. - It's all because the plastic straws... - tears appeared in Soos' eyes - Why do I always take two of them? - Soos, relax, maybe there is time.

He turned towards Danny again.

- Listen, my great uncle is a scientist, he will be able to help us. And you too, assuming when you go forward in time, timelines would update. Will you go with us? He's in the Shack, just... Just like your parents. - A scientist? - Danny raised a brow - Like, with a secret laboratory? - Only the best Gravity Falls, Oregon can offer!

This piece of information had the reaction Dipper and Soos expected. Danny jumped off the rock and ran towards the two, eager to follow them.

- Okay, let's go and see Ford, he'll know what to do.

A few minutes later, the two walked behind the Shack and opened the hatch to the underground lab. The sheer idea of it made Danny ecstatic, and Dipper and Soon had to restrain him from rushing down the narrow stairs. They found Ford sitting by his table, with several samples of what looked like pladypus fur being exposed to various chemicals.

- Interesting... - Grunkle Ford! - Oh, hello, Dipper, what are you-

Ford turned to his side, and he nearly fell from his chair when he spotted a third person between Soos and Dipper.

- Dipper! - he exclaimed, jumping to his feet - How-Who-Why have you brought this child here, this is supposed to be a secret! - I know, Ford, I know, but... - Dipper approached him - This... This is my and Wendy's son from the future! - he stepped closer and whispered in one go.

Flabbergasted by the news, Ford kept looking back and forth at Dipper and the new kid, who was now just inches from touching a canister of highly volatile substance, and what's worse, Soos was as well. Dipper and Ford quickly grabbed the two, pushing them away to the center of the cramped lab. Soos and Dipper relied the few bits of information they have managed to gather from him in the glade, explaining their reasoning to Ford.

- Well, I... I can see the resemblance. - he muttered - What's his name? - Danny! - Danny exclaimed - Are you the scientist that lives here? - I sure am, kid. Listen, do you mind if I ask you a few questions? - Uh-uh. - Okay. First, how did you get here? What vehicle have you arrived in? - A car? - Danny titled his head. - What's that? -

He pointed to the samples on Ford's desk.

- Oh, I am just conducting experiments on some local fauna. Animals, I mean. Remarkable animals, pladypi, their skin is in natural plad! - Heh, my mom wears that!

Soos heard Dipper sniff loudly.

- I hope I am a good husband...

Ford opened a drawer and took a elongated machine with an LCD screen hastily mounted on it.

- Back to my questions... - Ford continued - So, about place where you came... - We live in Calafornia! - he exclaimed. - Okay, so California is still present. - Ford scribbled his notes - Can you tell me about your world? - Like, the playground and stuff? - Precisely, the playground. And stuff. - he smiled. - Well, I like football. - Danny replied. - The one you kick, or the one where you throw the ball? - Eh, the kick?

Suddenly, Soos turned to Dipper with a concerned frown on his face.

- Things aren't looking so good. The British may have come back for the colonies! Danny, please tell me you don't drink tea... - Sure I do. I love ice tea! - Okay, everything's fine then. - Soos let out a sigh.

Ford took the portable biometric scanner and began moving it around Danny's head, much to his amazement and amusement, as the machine produced steady beeping.

- Woah! What's that? - I'm trying to detect any time anomalies around you... They tend to cause fluctuations around one's magnetic field up to twenty-four hours after the shift... - Hey, is Soos down here?

A sudden, new voice reached Ford's ears, though it was followed by a blood-freezing shriek. Ford nearly dropped the device on Danny's head when Melody ran towards him, wearing an expression of utter shock and anger.

- F-Ford! Why-Why do you took Danny here? And what are you doing to him?! His parents were looking all over for him! - Dipper and Wendy? - Ford asked - Did they come with him as well?

Melody took a moment to process his question.

- What are you talking about? - she shouted, and grabbed Danny's hand - Come here, sweetie, your mom and dad are waiting for you...

And sure enough, when Soos, Dipper and Ford peeked from the secret door behind the soda machine, they spotted Danny in arms of his mother. She was tall, wore plad jacket, and had blonde hair. His father had red ones, and was distinctively not like Dipper at all, with a rather big nose and beard.

- I'm- I'm so sorry - Melody apologised - We're, uh, we're remodelling the, the basement, and he must have walked downstairs. Please, take anything from the gift section as a compensation. - No problem, ma'am. - the woman replied - As long as our lil' Danny is safe, we're fine. - Mommy! There is a secret lab downstairs! And a scientist that makes experiments! - Really? - his father smiled - You'll tell us all about it when we drive home...

Melody walked the couple to the exit, and stayed by the door, making sure they were far away, before she turned on the spot and stormed to the three men, now all wearing guilty expressions on their faces.

- Can anyone tell me what the hell was that about?

Dipper and Soos explained briefly what lead to them to the discovery of Dipper's "son", and with each line, the two realised they might have jumped to the conclusions a bit quickly.

- For the love of... - Melody hid her face in hands - Soos, if you find a child in a forest, YOU DON'T ASSUME IT'S A TIME TRAVELLER! YOU BRING IT TO THE NEAREST ADULT! AND NO, YOU DON'T COUNT!

She looked at Dipper.

- You're glad Wendy has a day off, or I would have told her all of that right now, and ruin any chances of you two ever hooking up. And you, Ford!

Ford flinched when his name was uttered.

- You, out off all people here, fell for that?! - Well, the evidence was there. - he scratched his head - He did look like Dipper's and Wendy's child... - And he had no phone! - Soos added. - Because he spent 300 bucks on microtransactions - Melody replied - He won't be playing the "Sweets Squash Saga" anytime soon... - But the hat! - Yes, bought here.

Melody showed the rack with t-shirts and caps, where one was missing.

- But... - Dipper asked - Then why was he in that glade? - He was taking a pee. Unheard of, I know.

The three men exchanged guilty looks with one another.

- Has neither of you thought to, you know, ASK him?!

She let out another, deep sigh and sat on her chair.

- Listen, the attractions in the parking lot needs cleaning. I want to see them shining by the dinnertime. And no science-y do-dads! - she addressed Ford - Just water and soap. - Hey, on the bright side, I can still use plastic straws and not feel guilty! - Soos cheered up as they walked out.

Melody leaned in her chair, glad the parents didn't want to press any charges, and for once, hoped for a customer-less afternoon. A minute later, however, the door behind her opened though, and Melody turned towards it.

- Oh, Wendy, I'm glad you came, you're not going to believe what hap-

But the woman in the back entrance wasn't Wendy, though Melody had to rub her eyes to make sure she was right. She was wearing large, round glasses, green jacket, a somewhat singed backpack, and had long, red hair, tied into a ponytail, which at first made Melody mistake her for her friend. She was panting and gasping, as if she has just run a marathon.

- Oh, apologies, ma'am. I though you were another shopgirl. - Wendy? - the woman asked, her eyes widening at the sound of the name. - Yeah, she was supposed to have a day off. Anyway, the customers entrance is there - she pointed to the other set of doors.

But when Melody turned her head back, the woman was gone, as if she evaporated into thin air, leaving Melody in a state of even deeper confusion.

Ten feet below the ground, Ford's scanner made another noise and printed an output.

#wendip #wendipweek #wendip week #wendy x dipper #dipperxwendy #gravity falls #dipper pines #wendy corduroy #nautiscaraderfics #why are you wearing my clothes

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ajuimaginary · 6 years ago

Text

Soulmate Mingyu

Part of the Seventeen Soulmate Series

Your pen tapped out an absent minded pattern on the paper in front of you, note-taking long forgotten. You were sitting in the middle of your classroom in high school, ignoring your teacher in favour of your own drifting imaginings.

It wasn’t your fault you were distracted, At least not this time. You were watching artwork sketch itself across your arms.

Your soulmate connection was causing the marks, of course: that familiar link every person shared with a destined future true love. Your skins became canvases tied together by fate, and when one was marked in any way, the other would share an identical imprint.

Right now, your soulmate was drawing neat patterns of flowers, a basic blue ballpoint pen sketching them line by line so they pooled over his bare skin, and in turn, appeared on your own hands, coming from no where.

You wanted to express for affection for the artwork, so you followed a pattern that had become familiar to the two of you, and you drew the outline of a little heart just under his drawings.

You waited, and like always, you had a quick response. A second, slightly larger heart was etched alongside it from your soulmate’s end. Perfectly, artistically, formed. It was his reply. An assurance that he felt the same way.

You felt a flutter in your real heart. You hoped you would never stop being this moved by even the smallest of moment between you. When the bell rang to end the lesson, you barely noticed.

No one would blame you though. There was nothing quite so exciting as signs of a link with a soulmate. Especially when you hadn’t met one another yet, and your joined skins were your only communication.

Although, you and your soulmate knew a few things about each other already.

In most nations, when babies were born, it was common for parents to seek the basic soulmate info their child might want when they were older. A pen with ink safe for newborn skin was owned by most hospitals. It was used to write soulmate? across the baby’s forehead. If the soulmate was already born, their parents would see the mark appear, and they would send a reply saying yes, then possibly exchange more info. If the soulmate was not born yet, it was a matter of waiting until the word soulmate? appeared, sent from the other end.

Because of this tradition, in your early years, your parents and your soulmates’ parents had already been in contact. You knew he was Korean. You knew his name was Kim Mingyu. You knew he was a boy. You knew his birthday.

Those were the only details that hospitals and parents traditionally bothered to exchange. They left the rest to the kids. You knew in some cultures the parents would be taking the info they got to consult astrologists or religious leaders for more insight. But that was the extent of it.

In the largely globalized world of the modern age, it was taboo in most countries for parents to interfere by continuing communications across their infants’ skin. It was considered more organic to let the children establish ties as they grew up. They could decide for themselves if they wanted to know more before meeting one another. You and your soulmate had long ago come to an agreement that you wanted to do most of your discovering in person, whenever the universe turned its destined pages and bound your paths together.

You were happy knowing one another’s names, and had spent all your lives working to know each other’s languages too. You could tell he’d become quite good with yours because of the ease he wrote down the occasional thing he wanted to remember- like a song title or a movie. And you knew he’d seen your abilities with Korean as well.

The other things you’d discovered about him intrigued you beyond belief. He seemed crazily talented. Almost unfairly talented.

His talents came through in bits and pieces throughout your childhood, when he was bored during what must have been the Korean school day. It was pretty common in your world for people to draw on their own skin. Who didn’t like the idea of a little extra communication with their soulmate? So you would watch doodles paint patterns on your arms, and see how good Mingyu was at art - from little geometric designs to quirky cartoon figures, some of which you recognised, and some which (after a little Googling) introduced you to comic books he must have enjoyed.

There were also the recipes. They were less common, and he only seemed to make those notes if he had no other means to record his food ideas. They made your heart flutter more than anything else, because your soulmate could apparently cook, and cook well at that.

He would scrawl notes to himself on the bare skin of his forearm: ideas about ingredients, or spice combos. One time, when you were only about twelve years old, he wrote out a whole recipe in a quick scrawl, like he was trying to get it noted down quickly to try at home later. Interest raised, you also decided to try it as well. Only problem was, his handwriting was hard to read from his rush to get it all written. After squinting at it for a while, you circled a couple of things on your own arm, and wrote little question marks beside it, hoping he would see, and clarify for you.

Sure enough, the recipe began to rewrite itself out on your other arm. It was in someone elses hand-writing this time, because using his non-dominant right hand would have been even messier. You wondered who was writing it, thinking fondly of your soulmate asking for their help.

Thanks, you wrote under it, adding a little heart.

He drew a returning heart, and, most likely, returned to cooking.

Ever since then, that had been your routine. A small heart when you wanted to express affection, and an answering heart from the other person.

You started to thank each other when you accidentally provided a good recommendation for a song, or a movie, and as time passed, you started to deliberately write things you wanted to share.

When you stumbled across a cartoon with a character you’d seen him doodle before, you always let him know what you thought. When his friends all watched a movie he knew you’d seen before, he would tell you if he’d enjoyed it.

It was such a simple way to be connected, but it warmed your heart each time.

When your soulmate reached his late teenage years, he must have started getting into performing, because occasionally some truly dramatic stage make up looks would appear on your face that you were pretty sure he couldn’t be for day to day events. Sometimes, they were embarrassing - appearing at times you did not want to have that intense of a smoky eye. Sometimes, they were really perfectly timed - you were delighted at the seemingly professional level of quality you were given for free through your soulmate.

As well as the make up, the occasional scrawls your soulmate added to the back of his hand sometimes looked like song lyrics. Usually just a few short bars, in messier than normal handwriting that indicated to you he must have had to jot them down quickly. It added to your theory that he was interested in performing.

You wondered if he was passionate enough about performing to put song covers online or something. Perhaps you might have even glimpsed his face before around Youtube. The thought made you grin, but you would have no way of knowing for sure until you met him.

One of the nicest surprises came to you one day when you were listening to music on Spotify- a decent mix of English songs and K-pop (which you’d been listening to for a long time since you knew the language anyway.) You were playing random playlists you found, seeking new music, and then suddenly one of the songs played some rap bars you definitely recognized. You checked the song title - 기대 - and the group name - Seventeen. And you added it instantly to your library.

You were sure your soulmate must have sung the song before, and as always when you discovered a little connection like that, the moment of recognition was thrilling.

You picked up a pen, and then wrote along your arm.

Hi Mingyu, I just listened to 기대 by Seventeen!

There was a pause much longer than usual before you got any response. You went about your day with the letters on your arm, wondering when he would write something back. Usually his replies were quick. But it was when you were getting ready for bed that he finally wrote back.

Sorry it took me so long to reply.

You frowned in confusion, but more letters began to appear.

Did you like the song? Did you watch a performance? Do you know anything about Seventeen? Did you look them up?

It was an odd series of questions.

I didn’t watch anything, you responded, and I haven’t looked them up. Should I have?

You waited, feeling very anxious suddenly, like you had done something wrong. Mingyu seemed sharper and more upset than usual. You watched his questions wash off your arm as he removed them to make room to write more, and you quickly went to your bathroom sink to wash your side of the conversation away as well.

On the blank slate, Mingyu wrote:

No! Don’t look them up! Promise me you won’t.

How strange...

You stared at the request for a long time.

Okay. You wrote. I promise.

You waited for more explanation, but he wrote nothing else for a long time. You picked up your pen again, hesitated, and added:

I liked the song though. Can I still listen to it?

Mingyu drew two adorable hearts first, and wrote: Of course you can. I don’t want to order you around, I’m sorry, it’s just important to me that you don’t look up that group. Feel free to listen to the song though.

Another pause.

What did you like about it?

You laughed a little.

It’s really nice! There’s kind of a soothing but cool style to it. Even the way it starts off it amazing. I think the voices have a kind of story telling vibe to them.

You waited for his response.

I like that too. He wrote. And then he put a few more hearts, and said goodnight. You both washed off your arms and you went to bed.

You had no idea what was going on, but you wanted to respect his wishes and his boundaries, so you didn’t press the issue. You simply let it go. But you listened to 기대 almost every day for a while after, and you especially loved the lines that you remembered Mingyu had written on his arm.

One year after the 기대 incident, your world changes for ever.

You knock on your best friend’s front door, smiling at the pink balloons tied on the letter box and around the doorway. Her little sister yanks the door open, a huge grin on her face.

“Welcome, Y/N!” she yells happily. “It’s my birthday!”

“I know, sweetie,” you smile back at her, handing her the gift in your hands, and watching her squeal with excitement, shaking it violently in her hands. “I can’t believe you’re six years old already! I’m here to help set up the party.”

She guides you through to the back garden, chattering happily about how all her class is coming to join the fun. You respond with the expected enthusiasm, and gasp in amazement when you walk out onto the decorated back lawn. Your best friend waves you over as soon as she sees you.

“Thanks again for offering to help with the party!” she says. “Can you run the face painting? You only need to do really basic looks. We even have some examples the kids can pick from, so you won’t have to think of any complicated designs yourself.”

You look at the sheet of card she’s holding, with a tiger, butterfly wings, a pirate, and other classic kids’ designs she must have printed off from the internet, and you agree you can do the job.

There’s a bit of time to kill before the actual event begins, so you decide to practice some face painting on yourself. It will get you used to this set of paints and it will probably get the kids more excited when they arrive to see an example of the work on the person painting them.

You pick the tiger, and start by covering your face with orange, then adding stripes where you can see them on the guide, a pink nose, and long black whiskers, turning your face from side to side in the tiny mirror so you can see what you’re doing. When the look is complete, you’re actually pretty pleased with yourself.

“Looking good, Y/N!” your friend yells out from across the lawn.

“I’ll paint you next?” you offer.

She comes over, pulls out the second chair at the face painting station, and sits down in front of you.

“Can you give me the butterfly?” she requests.

But as you lift your hand to begin painting her face, you let out a gasp, and freeze, staring at the frantic letters forming across your skin.

Y/N please don’t keep that on! please wash your face now!

It’s about a hundred times messier than Mingyu’s usual handwriting. He must be freaking out.

“What’s going on?” your friend asks.

In answer, you flip your hand over. Her eyes scan the letters, and her brows raise.

“Well, go on then! He’s still writing more ‘please’s! Go wash your face!” she says, all but pushing you out of your seat.

Still confused by Mingyu’s urgency, you turn and race toward the house, stopping at the first sink you see, in the kitchen, and slamming on the tap so fast you spray water down your front.

You dab haphazardly at your face, the water running orange and black and swirling away down the sink.

Your skin feels pink from scrubbing when you stop. You stare at the back of your hand again. It’s blank now. He must have washed off his pleading. A single phrase forms, still a little rushed, but you can almost feels his thankfulness in each letter.

Thank you so much. I’ll explain later.

And that’s all.

Mingyu doesn’t try to communicate again until the party ends. You’re helping to clean up, chucking paper cups empty of coca cola into a rubbish bag. Your best friend’s little sister, the birthday girl, is napping on a couch inside, totally tired after the day’s events.

As you reach down to pick up the next cup, you see new writing appear on your arm. You sit down right there on the grass, watching it appear.

So I know you listen to KPop, which means you’ll probably hear about this soon enough. So I’ll tell you first... something happened today. And it made me decide I want to meet you. Is that okay?

You stare at the words in confusion. But all the times you’ve talked, Mingyu has been a little long winded when explaining things, so you’re sure you’ll understand eventually.

You find a pen, and write back... That’s okay.

Good. Says Mingyu. Did you know KCon LA was this week?

Yeah

Well I’m at KCon LA right now. And this thing happened. And I know I need to see you now. Send me your address, please. I have enough to pay for all my transport, no matter how far away you are. I’m taking a break from work anyway. I have to find you. Please?

You’re shaking by the time you finish reading his excited words. Something really dramatic must have happened for him to change his mind like this... to want to meet you right away no matter what.

You could never refuse him. You write out your home address in careful letters on your arm.

Thank you. Mingyu writes. And while I’m on my way... you can look my name up online. And then

He pauses for a minute or so.

watch the video from this link www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PrXNl05CWM. He takes his time getting every number of the link right, and then continues. It’s embarrassing, but when you watch it, you’ll understand. I’ll see you as soon as possible.

Okay, Mingyu. I’ll see you soon. You write back.

You’re almost afraid to do everything he’s asked. It seems so dramatic. But before panic can take over, you see one more tiny shape form. A single inky heart.

And you smile.

You explain to your friend, head home, open your laptop, and type Kim Mingyu into Google. The first result is a KPop profile; facts and Profile for MinGyu, member of thirteen member Korean boygroup Seventeen.

One hand over your mouth in shock, you click through and quickly skip past the picture (you’re not ready for that) to read what the profile says, trying to make the information sink in. You read facts you already knew about your soulmate - name: Kim Mingyu, born: 06 April 1997, hometown: Anyang, South Korea - along with brand new information - position: lead rapper, height: 187cm - and you try to piece it all together with your reality.

Your mind flashes back to that day when you listened to your first Seventeen song and he asked you not to look up anything more about that group. When you were so charmed by the rapping. The smooth storytelling style to the flow of those lyrics...

And you scroll back up to the photo. You let out a little gasp. He’s beautiful.

It takes a moment for that to feel real as well. But something about the photo they’ve chosen for the profile helps you. He’s impossibly handsome, of course, but he somehow manages to fit in with the picture of Mingyu you had in your mind, because he has a dorky pose, pointing a finger at the screen. It makes him feel more real. More human. More yours...

And then that comforting feeling fades in and out rapidly when you switch straight to Google images and spend about an hour scrolling through photos of your stunning, gorgeous, sexy soulmate. Your head is spinning by the end of it. In some photos, you can see that personality you’ve been getting to know. The sweetness, the slight foolish charm of him, the talents in art that seems to translate to his fashion sense as well, the shots of him cooking... but at the same time, he looks more beautiful than you dared let yourself imagine.

Your favourite thing is spotting bits of writing on his arms. Your writing. And a whole ton of little hearts.

Then you type out his Youtube link, that he spent so long writing out properly to make sure you would watch the right video. It’s only hours old. A performance MNet uploaded of Seventeen at KCon earlier that same day.

You watch as the boys, all thirteen of them, come out on stage and begin their song. But about halfway through, their expressions start to change when they glance at Mingyu, and when the camera comes in closer, you see your soulmate’s face has turned orange. Then the black stripes begin to form. The boys are faltering in their dance steps now, not sure if they should continue.

Mingyu looks annoyed, like he can’t understand why their performance is falling apart.

Then he catches sight of himself on the monitors. And his jaw drops. And he freezes.

You must have been just finishing off your face paint at that time, because the tiger is nearly completely there. The pink nose adds a hilarious softness to Mingyu’s horrified expression. The crowd is laughing, obviously quite charmed by the display, and amused by its poor timing so much that they don’t mind it messing up the planned show. But Mingyu seems upset by it... as do some of his friends, who must have worked so hard getting ready for this day.

On go the tiger whiskers, long and slightly curved, forming one by one around that lovely nose. None of the boys are moving now. The close up camera is fixed on Mingyu.

The member with the round cheeks steps forward suddenly, saying something funny about Soulmates into the microphone. It makes the rest of the members swirl into action. Some of them crowd around Mingyu, and two with concerned expressions usher him from the stage. The round cheeked one keeps speaking, clearly taking charge of the damage control.

“Thank you, Jeonghan and The8, please take care of Mingyu and return quickly!”

Two more of the boys seem to shake themselves from their surprise as the round-cheeked one beckons them forward, and they start speaking in fluent English to the crowd. They say they’ll move on to their unit performances now, and leave Hip Hop team for last so Mingyu can come back with his face paint gone... and that’s it.

That’s the end of the video.

You can see the recommended next clip is for Seventeen’s other performances, so you know they must have finished as they planned. And since you washed off the face paint fast, you know Mingyu must have returned in time for his performance. But you feel bad for him anyway. He must have been upset to have that happened in front of a whole audience...

You scroll the Youtube comments for a bit. People are amused, or feeling sorry for him, or intrigued by any sign of a soulmate, or surprised that MNet even uploaded the interrupted performance (though you’re sure they’re delighted by its entertainment factor... the clip already has a ridiculously high number of views.)

And after that, it all feels too much for you. The truth is too intense. You close your laptop and go to find your family, so you can tell them what’s happened and get ready for your visitor.

The thought makes you smile again. A little happy tremble goes through you. You get to meet your soulmate soon... You get to meet Mingyu.

He knocks timidly on the door when he arrives, and you fly to answer it, barely noticing each step as your feet swallow up all the space between you until all that remains is your front door.

You take a deep breath, hand on the handle, and fling it open.

“Mingyu,” you gasp.

There he stands, looking shy and awkward, face graced by a slightly giddy smile he can’t seem to keep down. You find that despite running to meet him, you’re now frozen where you stand. His warm honey eyes scan over you though, skating across the features on your face, shifting down your body, and he looks so happy you might just melt where you stand.

“Hi, Y/N,” he whispers. “Did you look it up?”

You nod. And then words begin to pour out of him, in the same rushed way he writes, a long-winded explanation that makes your heart squeeze with pure affection.

“I realised after that performance that we were being stupid to wait to meet each other- to hope that the world would throw us together some, even though we were bound to be desperately thinking about one another every second until it happened. Or at least, I thought about you...”

He steps forward, lifts his hands and cradles your face.

“I was always worried about making you a part of my life too soon. I though I had all the time in the world to meet you, and what if I did meet you too soon, and I just messed it all up right away? As if it were possible to ever spend too much time together...”

He laughs, and when you join in, his smile becomes blinding.

“After today I know this is what I want. I want to be with you. I want us to know every detail of each others lives. I want a public, open, happy relationship with you before the eyes of the entire world. I don’t want anyone to see that video and think it was embarrassing. I want it to be the story of how we came together. I want it to be the beginning. Is that what you want?”

He’s so gorgeous, and the two of you are destined, so it’s a surprise to see how nervous he looks. As if you would ever turn him down.

“This is want I want,” you assure him.

And, hands still warm on your face, he kisses you for the first time.

#mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen scenarios #mingyu x reader #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #drabble #soulmate au #admin lizzie

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gawaincomic · 6 years ago

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If you don't mind me asking, what supplies do you use to draw?? I love your comics and your sketches and you're a huge inspiration :D

...M-me? Wow, thank you @violetcancerian XD! I’m a bit surprised because I don’t really feel like I know what I’m doing, and I am not at all professional when it comes to drawing. But I do love what I do, even if I do it messily :p.

If it helps, sure, I’ll gladly tell you about the supplies I use. This here is for the black-and-white stuff, because I assume that that is what you are asking about.

My drawings aren’t particularly sophisticated or artistic, so I have some preferences that real artists will abhor. I like very smooth paper, brush pens rather than brushes, and fineliners instead of pen-and-ink.

Paper

My preferred paper size is A5, and I like drawing in notebooks. This is a bit stupid when you want to get a decent scan of your pages afterwards... But I am incredibly messy, so on the other hand, my use of notebooks means that so far I haven’t lost any pages yet! I’m drawing The Darkest Hour on detachable Daler Rowney notebook pages - easier to scan, but more dangerous for me :p.

I use a lot of Moleskine booklets (I have them in all sizes, mostly black). My Snape Notebook is a TeNeues Cool Notes booklet and I have recently dipped into a Leuchtturm 1917 notebook. All have very smooth, rather light and yellowish paper. For my pencil sketches I use regular printer paper.

Pencils

I used to draw almost exclusively with mechanical pencils, but since my evening classes at art school I much prefer regular pencils for sketching, especially softer leads like B4 en B6. I still use my mechanical pencils for detailing (or for travelling). I’ve recently discovered the joys of the blue pencil for initial sketching. Pretty much the only brand of Non-Photo Blue pencil I have found in local shops is Caran d’Ache, so that’s what I’m going with.

One of my teachers at art school told me that Staedtler pencils are Really Bad. But I had some already and I’ve never had any complaints, so I’m using them up and I’ll break out the huge box of Derwents after that ;-).

Pens

I am quite rubbish with dip pens. I love them, but - I can’t use them very well except for writing. I am a control freak and my drawings are mostly clear line, so I want to have the best control possible and not have to worry about inkblots and such. I mean, I get stains with *anything* as it is, so I prefer to make my life as easy as possible. That’s why I use fineliners instead of nibs and brush pens instead of brushes.

My fineliners are Copic Multiliners. Before that, I used Staedtler Pigment Liners, and I love those, but I used them lots and it annoyed me that I had to throw all those empty plastic pens away. So at one point I decided to invest in Copics, which are metal and can be refilled. Yes, empty fillings still get thrown away :/. Maybe one day I’ll have to face my fears and switch to nibs that you can refill from a glass bottle...

For inking, I used to love my really flexible Pentel calligraphy brush pen, but at one point or another the ink starts to flow far too heavily and everything just goes blob :(. I have since switched to a Pentel Arts Color Brush (also refillable) and I am very, very happy with that. The ink flows much less quickly - I can get dry brush effects with it or make nice, fat lines while drawing it slowly over the paper. Frankly: it has been a game changer for my brush inking.

For my quick sketches I use a very basic Bic ballpoint pen. It’s probably the cheapest in the shops, but it draws very fine lines. I just love it :D.

For my greys I use felt tip pens. In TDH it’s the Faber-Castell PITT Artist Pens (Brothers & Sisters is drawn with those entirely, but I think in future I may go with a brown Pentel). More recently I got the Koi pens, which I really like. They have larger tips. I’ve used those in my Snape sketchbook and elsewhere.

That’s it, really. I hope this helps! Don’t hesitate if you have any questions about this stuff :).

#illustration #sketches #drawing #art supplies #art stuff #traditional art #traditional drawing #traditional media

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dotzines · 6 years ago

Photo

Artist spotlight: aaron!

✿ Commissions ✿ Ko-fi Tumblr ✿ Tumblr ✿ Instagram

header source: [X]

Introduce yourself I'm aaron and I'm a filipino artist in California! Tokyo Mew Mew was the first manga I ever owned, and my favorites are Ichigo and Lettuce! I also love Kiyotaka Ishimaru from danganronpa, musicals, and the color yellow. When did you start drawing? Are you a digital or traditional artist? I've been drawing ever since I can remember! I used to draw random people, teen titans, or inuyasha. In high school, I got a hand-me-down wacom tablet from a friend and from there, I started creating my own ocs with backstories. I've been a digital artist since then. Do you use any traditional mediums? If so, which are your favorites? I use mechanical pencils and ballpoint pens. I really like using pink, blue, and purple highlighters to color in values, but recently I've been trying to collect actual artistic markers. I think they're calligraphy markers tbh, but they're double sided and they give me more colors so idc XD Why do you prefer traditional over digital? (or viceversa) I really like the accessibility of traditional- I can draw wherever I want, as long as I have a pen and paper. But for showing off my work, I'd much rather it be digital. Digital gives me access to so many colors and I can zoom in to create more details. It's also a lot cleaner than taking a picture with my shaky phone quality. What do you think is the most challenging part about being a traditional/digital artist? It's difficult for me to choose the correct colors. When I only did traditional, I'd only color in greyscale because that's what mangas did and that's all the colors I had. I can't really work with more than 3-5 tones/colors or else it'll get scared it'll look too busy. I always have to filter my colors to give them a little more life, because the first ones I choose are usually washed out. What inspires your pieces? I draw my ocs a lot! Drawing them in different ways and scenarios helps me solidify their designs and personalities. I will often have phases where I'll draw a LOT of my current favorite oc. Explain your "everyday" drawing process I'll either draw one single character in a flowy pose, or two characters interacting/posing together. I'll digitally sketch something out and keep erasing and re-drawing the lines on the same layer until I have my line art. I block out colors with a binary pen so that my basic color palette looks good and then select each color so I can put detail in it. Depending on how much energy I have, I'll do simple shading or I'll keep the lineart layer a little sketchy and just color over it for a lineless piece. I don't have a lot of practice with lineless because it takes a lot out of me, but sometimes I get really into it

image source: [X]

Do you have an artist you admire (or more than one)?

https://www.instagram.com/treindraws/ (lines/ colors)

https://www.instagram.com/pimikyuu/ (THICK lines, very cartoony)

https://www.instagram.com/thronekin/ (plush shaped characters, cute blush)

https://www.instagram.com/robobogart/ (designs)

https://www.instagram.com/fukashi_gimmick/ (recently followed, bright colors. interesting shapes/flow)

Is there an artwork you are most proud of? Why?

https://ubetaro.tumblr.com/post/182234099603/ubetaro-oh-mom-this-might-be-as-far-as-i-go

I really like this one because it's lineless and I put a lot of effort into the hair and giving it different colors

https://ubetaro.tumblr.com/post/181532773553/1shimaru-danganronpa-secretsanta

I am also proud of this one because it's TWO full body characters with a background and soft lighting. It took a lot of effort out of me but it was really satisfying to finish!"

Do you listen to music (or tv shows/films/anything else) when drawing? Yes! I listen to musicals, chill beats, or 80's/90's music. I can't hear what I'm thinking when the music is too jumpy and fun. I also get distracted when there are people talking, so I can't listen to films or letsplays when I draw

Johnny Balik - Honey khai dreams - through and through NIKI - I Like U Forrest. – Your Soul Lemon Boy - Cavetown Lyin' Eyes- Eagles Billy Joel- For The Longest Time Bee Gees - How Deep Is Your Love

image source: [X]

What makes art interesting for you? I like making things! I like how my brain comes up with things and i can make those things become a reality through my art. What do you do when art block strikes? If I want to draw, and my art is looking Ugly, then I draw big and messy. Whatever comes to mind naturally, I'll just put it down. I'll draw random people, or big anime eyes. I'll redraw something with a premade design so I don't have to think of the designs myself, or I'll draw someone in a spine-breaking pose and over-exaggerate the features. What’s the most valuable art advice you’ve ever received?

Experience things! When you experience things, it gives you a personal connection to use in your art.

#aaron #artist spotlight #red zone artists #red zone

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maiji · 6 years ago

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@logicheartsoul Thank you so much for the kind words ^^ And certainly - thank you for your interest and for asking! I love working with ink so I’m happy to talk about it :D

How I got into it

It's only been in the last maybe five or so years that I've actually started to pay more attention to art supplies. In the case of ink, it really started with fountain pens. Long story short, one of my professors was really into them and let me try one of his vintage pens, and I was vaguely interested. Then my best friend really got into them, and I tagged along to a fountain pen show (shoutout to Scriptus Toronto!!). From there it was a slow burn over a period of months from “this is neat” to “WOWWW OKAY I GUESS I’M REALLY INTO THIS NOW”. It was a (relatively, for me) quick entry once I discovered the online fountain pen community. These people are incredibly passionate, highly articulate, and best of all, document EVERYTHING. I found the ink reviews especially spectacular and that’s probably what hooked me the most.

A few other things that helped in the appeal factor:

I have a tendency to grip writing implements excessively hard and exert a lot of unnecessary pressure when writing or drawing with more conventional pens (ballpoints etc.) A number of people mentioned that fountain pens helped them to alleviate this because generally you don’t need/want to apply pressure when using them. I’ve found it has helped.

I've always been interested in forms that combine words and images, and this merges literary and artistic worlds in a very clear way.

I’ve been on a long personal journey of wanting to incorporate much more Chinese/Taiwanese/East Asian heritage and cultural traditions into my work. Thus, I've been gravitating towards things emphasizing brush, ink, water, elements of calligraphy and... not sure if spontaneity is the word I want, but things that help me overthink less when I draw, and get better at letting go.

How I work with ink

My (main) tools

Fude de mannen: This is basically a fountain pen that mimics a brush for Asian calligraphy. It has a bent nib that enables you to change stroke thickness by varying your hand angle. I love this pen so much I got a second one so I could have a different colour; the washi tape helps me tell which one it is. You can see more of it in the video interview I did with PindotPress.

Brush pen: A pen that is a brush. lol. A number of companies make them; I use the Pentel Pocket Brush because it's the first one I tried and I liked it a lot. It's smooth, has great line variation, and the tip has yet to fail me. (Although the cap started falling apart, hence all the tape on my first one lol.) I currently have three: one for permanent black, one for permanent red, and one because I couldn’t resist buying a coloured version of the pen (I have Diamine Earl Grey in it right now).

Glass dip pen: These dip pens are pretty but what is super awesome is that they are super easy and fast to clean. I can quickly switch between multiple colours of bottled inks. The grooves in the nib hold ink, so you need to slightly turn the pen as you go to access all the ink. You can also get a wider stroke by slanting the pen and using the side of the glass nib. It's not that easy to control your lines, but I actually like this because it creates a lot of happy accidents. And “oops well damn" accidents, but like I said I’m trying to cultivate the whole “learn to let go" mindset.

Waterbrush: Basically a brush that carries its own water reservoir. I’ve used a few different brands but I find I like the Pentel Aquash small the best. Some people fill them with ink like a brush pen, but I’ve not really done that. (I did it once with a different brand that was harder to open/refill and I got mad.) I use it to paint with the inks.

Pencil I got for free: Unless I really am just doodling, I usually draw base pencils of some sort, even if it’s just a very rough, light sketch or a quick thumbnail on another sheet of paper. Every so often I get an inquiry asking what special kind of pencil I use, but I’m afraid they’re just normal pencils rolled with recycled newsprint. I got free samples like a million years ago and I have been using them forever. (I think I’m finally down to my last three.)

Eraser: I’ve been trying a few different ones but it takes me forever to work through an eraser. You want it to be able to pick up the lines without requiring you to scrub and take the ink too or destroying the fibres of your paper. This one actually works pretty well. If you’re really curious you can see the non-destroyed packaging here! lol

Toilet or tissue paper: Something to pick up the water. This is my "undo button” in real life when I’m painting/using the waterbrush. Also I drown everything with water so it’s very important.

Ink swatches: Every time I get a new ink I make a sample and add it here. It’s great for colour palettes and when I’m looking at other inks and trying to decide whether to get it or not (e.g., is it different from everything I already have? My definition of “different” is very generous...). I don’t actually have all these inks; some were samples from friends. I’ve found I tend to gravitate towards very complex, nuanced neutrals. (This sounds so sophisticated but when you see them all it once it's like. Oh. Apparently I like shades of grey, brown, and other hard to classify "muddy" or in-between colours lmao. But more on that in a bit.) Lately I've been getting glittery inks because they're fun and they add a magical dimension to the physical piece.

Here is my current selection of inks - on the shelf to the immediate left of my laptop and my head as I am typing this right now. The box at the bottom left is all the samples.

My approach

In my mind, I broadly classify my approach into two categories: “dry” and “wet”.

"Dry" - ink only, no water. I have pretty unsteady hands and hate "inking" - if we think of inking as an exercise in achieving a "clean", controlled line drawing with consistent line width/stroke thickness, neatness, etc. So I love pens that support me in what I think of as controlled loss of control - wide variations in brush width and stroke character. Brush pens and fude de mannen pens are perfect for this. They have lines that offer a wide range of dynamic, organic, and textural opportunity. My Inktober illustrations fall into this category. A few examples below, followed by links to the full set.

Inktober 2017 - fude de mannen

Inktober 2018 - brush pen

"Wet" - Basically I blob water around. Depending on when I do it (before, with/during, after the application of the ink), you can get different results. The water causes the ink to bleed, semi-watercolour-like, and can be used for shading, environmental effects etc. For obvious reasons, this works best with non-waterproof inks (which the vast majority of fountain pen inks are), but you can do this even with waterproof inks. Just let the ink hit water before it has a chance to soak into the paper and you can get cool effects :D. And you can also do it with other pens too, not just fountain pen inks. Examples:

Tiles of Toronto urban sketch series

Raizen and Hokushin doodles

Arikoto from Ooku

As you might imagine, this is really great for on-the-go drawings, because you just need a pen (or a couple of pens) and a waterbrush.

The “wet” approach is also where the very complex inks that look "boring" (greys, taupes etc.) are just complete magic. When the dye elements separate, other colours emerge, and you get really wonderful textural effects and rings of colour where the ink pools and dries. Diamine Earl Grey is a colour I've mentioned several times that I LOOOVE because it separates into blues, browns, purples, even pinkish tones. It's a gorgeous ink. You can see some examples and closeups here.

Another colour that does this really powerfully is Sailor Rikyucha. It’s a dark tea brown-green that separates very easily into pale blue-greens and more and has amazing tonal and textural qualities. The Tendril Wreath illustration here really shows this.

For the most part I look at things I like and then experiment to figure out what happens. After working with the same tools for a while, you get a sense of how the different elements might react and respond naturally. The Genjimonogatari series employs both dry and wet extensively and is an example of the experimenting and playing I’m doing - I keep finding new aspects to the inks I thought I knew, and making “interesting” mistakes. And trying to fix them as I go with varying levels of success, haha. But I’m always learning!

One more thing about this hobby

I feel compelled to finish with some talk about the pure aesthetic appeal, or the MULTIPLE LEVELS OF FUN I get out of these inks. Not just the colour, not just how the ink behaves, but... the name of the ink as well! Some inks do this more effectively than others. Similar to how the presentation of a dish is part of the experience, the name of an ink adds so much to my enjoyment of it. My least favourite ink names are [standard adjective]+[standard colour name]. My favourite ones are really convoluted with literary and poetic references, I just love them hahaha. Asian fountain pen inks I find tend to do this especially well - partly because of how much you can pack into how few syllables, I suppose. It makes me sad that a lot of sites don’t include the original names, often referencing them with just a number, though I understand it is difficult to translate. But I learn a lot with these names as a starting point! For example, Zhenjing, which I mentioned recently in the Kurama “Light” illustration, took a bit of back and forth with my parents to look up the source and then to interpret the complex line of poetry. It was a fun and fascinating exercise.

A great name can’t save an ink I don’t like, but a good name elevates an ink I do like even more, and it can be really inspiring for making stuff. For example, take Pen BBS Mirrorflower Watermoon. I adore the colour of this ink - it's a very subtle grey-pale green with silver flakes. I used it heavily in the Hokushin fanart “Northern Deity” (you can see it here with photos of the sparkly).

The name is actually highly recognizable if you're familiar with classic East Asian literature/poetry. I read it out loud to my parents with no context other than "this is the name of one of my favourite ink colours" while they were eating dinner and they both said at the same time, "I know this! DREAM OF THE RED CHAMBER!" lmao. It's a very Buddhist idiom or phrase referring to the illusory nature of things, likening it to the reflection of a flower in a mirror or the reflection of the moon in water.

I hope this was interesting and helpful! ^^

#art supplies #logicheartsoul #replies #reply #fountain pen ink #ink #waterbrush #brush pen #fude de mannen #art by Maiji/Mary Huang #how I work #process

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