#sketch looking so good im scared to ink

[taurus-spacecraft]

A STARTED AN AMAZING FUCKING COMIC LETS GOO🔥🔥🦅🦅🦅🦅

[studioboner]

Hi! I actually am wondering about trying watercolors for the first time but feel a little anxious haha.. how you go about drawing on the paper with confidence? Like, watercolor paper isn’t exactly cheap. I think I got the cheapest one avaible from Canson but still the anxiety is real… do you pick very light pencils like 2B so you can sketch veryyy lightly, or before sketching on the paper itself you do a planning sketch in another paper?

Im asking this cos I really love your art and it’s so cool that it’s mostly traditional! And the way you draw Tails is too adorable and consistent while being in your style, it always feels like you have confidence when you draw him.

oh i think this is gonna be a long one

all in all?i have the same anxiety as you. but i've confidense that i can make something good sometimes, but not that i will get it right every time. So i keep trying, but heres some stuff that helped

a warning though, i keep going on and on in this reply and can get pretty negative at times

my watercolor paper i use costs 2 dollars and has 20 sheets so that's 10 cents per sheet. which i feel helps with my anxiety... it's the canson multimedia block too, 140 msg .....

watercolor sketchbooks i'd find online were around 80 or more BRL, and then 20 BRL shipping.... that's 20 USD in total...

but a block of this plus getting it binded costs me 4 USD.....so i think that one [price] helps alot lol.....

as for the confidence.....

i've had enough time to do quite a bit of trad art, specifically ink and watercolors so im USED to the material and now quite as scared to "mess up" as when i first started it.... [hint, i still am] this is one example of a sketch page, they vary in size, and how "done" they are... i dont really worry too much about maintaining a rule of "everything in this sketchbook must be fully rendered " bc it ended up stunting my creativity

i did try the "sketch it onto a sketchbook and then pass it to watercolor paper" approach and tbh...? not really my thing... i've found that to me the first sketch always end up being looser than when i pass it on... i'm always more focused on getting the flow, composition and pose there than i am getting the right details or right lines or colors etc....

like this one, im more happy with the sketch, it's mroe dynamic, mroe fun

i DO sketch stuff on cheaper paper first when it's for trad art commissions though, just bc there i HAVE to make sure the client is getting what they asked

and i do use 2b pencils AND a "soft lead" mechanical pencil, btu tbh it's mroe bc of the feeling of it on paper than for the look of it...

here for example you can see the circle i used to have a basis on where tails would be.. i didnt erase it as i continued painting bc tbh it was just the sketch. i ended up liking it tho

i actually got quite MAD and angry at myself recently bc i noticed how much my sketches were looser in the sketchbooks when i did try the passing onto watercolors thing and i had a full on discussion with a fellow artist about daring myself to be bolder in the future, it has been working well

I sadly have to say though, that figuring out how to build confidense is more of a personal journey, and i cant claim that what worked for me [trusting my first sketch] would work for you.....

It's time, practice, trial and error....

OH, one thing though that DID help me. is:

-There's no art wasted, even if it doesnt turn out how you wanted it, you still learned something.

-Makins these personal art/fanarts isn't some school paper you have to hand it to be graded and then not get it back. You can re-do a piece as many times as you want until you get it right! I have quite a queue of pieces i plan on re-doing in the future bc i didnt like the first ones i did. im not perfect on confidence and i get scared of fully committing to drawings alot, many of them are pale not for choice bc bc i got scared of making my art too saturated and overworking it

i am about to get negative now so stop reading if you dont want to see that.

HERE NOW i's a alot of pieces i made that im unsatisfied with and plan on re-doing one day: too dull, simply way too watered

which led me to make THIS piece and do better colors

i hATE the way i did the lineart here. it's boring, the anatomies are wonky. it's a good concept but i didnt excecuted it as well as i wanted. but this piece has made me just go and try inking MORE so i could make up for it

which lead to this piece here eventually

This one here.... the colors look so muddy it just makes me SAD, bc i had been so scared to use high saturation that i went with the muddier colors by choice, if i had allowed myself to experiment i wonder how happier i'd be about it

which led me to make THIS piece with softer in value and more saturated colors

The colors and blending of this one are too soft and not bold enough for what i had envisioned it, i made it as fanart of a friends fic and it made me feel like i failed my friend and insulted her fic when i finished this. I dont think the piece looks bAD, mind you. i know it looks cute. and good even. But i had such high hopes for it.

which led me to make this one

THIS ONE OH MY GOD HOW I HATE IT. sonics expression is SO creepy hes like a horror movie weirdo , honestly not my best work when it comes to anatomy

so i've been doodlin sonic now and then as practice so that i could make this one eventually

The perspective on knuckles could be better and the characters look out of place on this scene, the background is ok

but in this piece here i was able to get a better harmony between colors, background and whatever sparse linework i threw in

Theres so many more haha but i'll stop for now....

Dont get me wrong i dont ACTUALLY think those pieces are HORRIBLE horrible,,,, i see the flaws in them yes, but theres always something i like too, and i know people like them, and that people wont throw away a whole piece over one small detail that in the end doesnt even affect the overall thing....

i've just been getting into the headspace of "ok. at least this one is done, onto the next"

plus the whole thing i told you of realising my first sketches are looser....

sorry im not too good at talking about this and my points arent very clear, i dont think this is going to be quite the help you expected it to be because the truth is that the struggle with your art is soemthign that doesnt go away no matter what skill you have...

at times to me it feels more like a mentality practice than skill, reasurring myself that it's ok to get it wrong and try again, etc etc....

i used to go to therapy and one of the things we talked about was my perfectionism, how i used to be so scared to mess up a piece. that i wouldnt even start, and wouldnt draw for months. this has been going for years now and hey i've gotten better.

but..... yeah im in the same boat as you.... except mine is no longer just about the paper quality!

Sorry this got so personal now, i hope that this hasnt killed your hopes on getting better at the anxiety. it does get way better haha... trying to force your brain to not judge yourself so harshly is half the battle in my opinion, the practice of drawing is the other half....

good luck i hope you have fun painting, i know i do, i love the process even when i dont like the result, good night and thank you for the question

[lesbeid0u]

sdifvjbsdvsjvnd i forgot to post these yesterday but i finally got my tattoo done!! obviously the design had to change a bit since i like to add a lot of unnecessary details lol but i really love how it turned out! 

stencil lineart and the original design under the cut along with a little surprise hehe

also technically this is my second tattoo since i got my first one back in december since one of the artists had an opening like three days after i emailed them lol 

and surprisingly the frog hurt more than this one tho ig its bc its full color but both of them really didnt hurt nearly as much as i thought they would and the wrist/forearm area is said to be pretty sensitive

[mokutone]

Hi hi! do you happen to have any favourite watercolor artists/ inspirations? specifically ones that rlly influenced your art style? I've tried searching up keywords like "favorite" etc but tumblr search engine is a little iffy, anyways! i adore your art and seeing your process videos make watercolours look like such a fun process and tbh less daunting than what it seems. Your blog is sending me down a rabbit hole of inks and watercolors and aaa its so fun to find gems on this nonfunctional website

OOOOOOH i dont think ive actually been asked this before!!! ty!!!

the truth is when it comes to watercolor im mostly flying by the seat of my pants 😅 but there are definitely watercolor artists that i love even i do not consciously do studies of their work! i should really study more watercolor artists bc its probably foolish to practice a medium while remaining ignorant of the big names within it.

i hope u find these interesting:

This is one of my favorites, it's called The Meeting on the Turret Stairs by 1864 Frederic William Burton. this is WATERCOLOR. good god. help. if you get really in close you can see how he built it up with delicate different colors. Anyway, the solidness of the bodies, the like...the romance in it all, the way the metal reflects the fabric, the detail in the chainmail and the absolute softness in the background...ough. its good. this is a painting which in all ways knows exactly what its about and executes it perfectly

and then there's the watercolor sketches of Hayao Miyazaki obvs skgjhdskgh, i like how loose he is and how clear, and how he isnt scared of the white spaces between where colors meet. i know these arent meant to be final products just like. indications of how the animation should be...but they enchant me so much...i want to be able to do watercolor sketches like that!

Albrecht Dürer does a lot of very detailed illustrations in watercolor, he's a weird guy from the 1500s, look how you can tell how the texture of the hare changes from its back to its underbelly. also, unrelated to his watercolor skills, i just like how he signs his work by putting a d beneath a little A arch. His mastery of textures is delightful and his attention and carefulness with detail is admirable

also i'm gonna mention Akihiro Yamada's watercolor + ink illustrations, specifically for 12 Kingdoms. I haven't spent a lot of my time looking at them but every time i do i find that there's something i want to emulate abt them...something abt the detailed inks and the way he does shadows with watercolor...something abt it rlly speaks to me. i think a lot of my weird shadow experiments are trying to achieve a feeling i get from his work. I think that these are the most like...the most like what I want to do? While also being definitely something other than what I would pursue. Hard to explain. Love to look at them though here's three of them

also

i would absolutely be remiss if i did not mention one of the people who inspired me to get back into watercolor originally, @marina-does-things and here is an excellent example of their work. Here is another (squid game fanart!) They're SO skilled at watercolor and gouache, and especially at conveying light + shadow, highlights and playing with color...when I think of their artwork I think of the light in it the most, u can really tell just by looking at their work that theyre so comfortable with the medium + have put a lot of effort and work into playing with it and gaining skills, theyre also a skilled digital artist too, all around triple-threat. They also do comics and WATERCOLOR comics at that (here is a link to a post of their excellent 80 page watercolor comic piece based on an episode of the podcast WOLF 359) !!! just an extraordinarily cool and talented artist

anyway, i hope this was useful to you!

[tobiaswriter]

Amphibia Outlaw AU

Chapter 1: dead frog's land

It was late in the day in the outskirts of newtopia, Anne and Marcy were sitting down at a table in an apartment that anne had rented. The Plantars had stayed in wartwood where it was safe, and where they weren't being chased by guards every two seconds. Anne and Marcy had been sitting there planning for a good thirdy minutes before Anne spoke up. "Alright Marcy thats the whole plan right? No other crucial details left out, and no risky flaws?" she asked nervously putting her index finger on the paper that had the plan written in ink. Marcy quickly bolted out of her seat and to a coat rack standing by their front door. "Don't worry Anna-Banana! I've got everything under control!" she reassured Anne waving her hand up and down as she sloppily through on her cloak. Anne shrugged and put on her chest plate as they both walked out the door and into a dark alleyway next to their apartment. Marcy quickly called Joe Sparrow to pick them up, Joe Sparrow arrived faster than they had thought. Marcy hopped on in a hurry as she pulled Anne up using her right arm and holding Joe Sparrow with the other. "Come on Anne, we gotta hurry before it gets dark!" she whisper shouted "Right, sorry Marce-" Anne wasn't quite used to riding on Joe Sparrow so she was kinda startled by how fast they took off, they were headed to a place called "Dead Frog's Land" to find a mysterious treasure buried there, it was said to have dangerous monsters lurking there supposedly "protecting" the treasure. It wasn't too far so they got there pretty fast, Joe Sparrow landed smoothly on the ground as Anne fell off of him. "Anne are you okay?" Marcy looked over at her with a concerned expression as she leaped off Joe Sparrow, "Yep I'm just fine!" she said quickly bouncing up off the ground brushing off the dirt. They had suddenly arrived at a strange island surrounded by water and engulfed in trees and vines, there was sand covering the outskirts of the forestry in the middle. "Are you sure this treasure is worth it? I mean it looks pretty risky.." she slightly whispered to Marcy who had her head deep in her notebook as she was recording her surroundings, as she continued to walk into the dark forest area that had bones scattered everywhere. Anne made a scared yet intrigued face as she stood there watching, she then got worried after she realized how oblivious Marcy was when she was this caught up in research. "MARCY WAIT!" she yelled running up behind Marcy. Anne screaming her name quickly caught her attention "What's up Anne?" she responded confused but interested. Anne put her hands on her knees to catch her breath "Be careful, we don't know what could be out here waiting to kill us. Or worse." she breathed before standing up straight and nervously searching the area for monsters or anything dangerous. They walked deeper into the forest when the silence was briefly interrupted by a load roar, Marcy glanced up at the sky after hearing it and started writing in her notebook as she changed her direction towards the loud roar. "Anne that's a roar I've never heard before! That could be a new species here in Amphibia!!" she squeaked with excitement as she walked closer to where the noise came from "No no nope. You are not putting us both in danger just because it could be a new species!" she scolded grabing the back of her cloak to put her walking to an end. "Aw come on Anne, we'll be in and out! Can we please go?" she pleaded as her eyes sparkled a hazel colour. "Fine. Only one sketch, but one sign we're in danger and we're out!" she plainly sighed at her and crossed her arms and began walking beside her "yay!!" Marcy clapped her hands in joy as she walked next to Anne.

NOTES:

SOOO,, yeah that was chapter 1. yep i actually use punctuation and capital letters woah i hate capital letters >:( but its all fine tho because its all for 💖you💖 anyways hope you enjoyed reading this, it hurt like a b- beachball to write so much at one time. and yes marcanne because why not 💙💚 anyways im done here bye-

[blissfulparker]

A little more permanent—Tattooartist!Tom

pairings:tattooartist!tom x innocent!reader   Summary: one night you decide to tattoo tom instead of him tattooing you.  Warnings: some sexual themes A/n: this is not a direct part 2 of tattooed heart but it is a spin off of it. I was never going to make this into a series but just little parts that tie together here and there. I hope you enjoy!! also I know I haven't been doing taglists and im sorry! if you want to be tagged in my works send me an ask! and thank you so much to the anon that suggested this title!

You lay on the dark leather couch of the shop that smells like bleach. The sound of buzzing a rock music fills the place and you wait for tom to be done.

It was what your Sunday’s started to look like, at around 6:30 you would make your way down to the shop to pick up tom. He would often times close up so you were stuck here finishing up some homework, reading up on a book, or even just laying there scrolling through your phone.

It was interesting to see the people come in and out anyways, watch what each person is getting and seeing their reactions, you could see why Tom adores his job so much.

“Alright baby, I’m almost done you wanna head to my room?” He’s taking off his gloves and throwing them into the nearest bin.

You nod closing up your bag as you follow him into his office. You sit down in the tattoo chair and wait for him to clean up. You look over and see a framed picture of the two of you at the beach last month. His arms are wrapped around you and he’s planting a kiss on your cheek, Tessa is in the background and you’ve got the biggest smile. 

“Someone asked me if that was my wife today.” He pointed to the picture you were staring at. He’s got his signature cheeky grin as he wipes down the counter.

“Oh yeah? What’d you say?” You already know his answer but want to hear his cheeky response.

“I told him, ‘yeah and that was our honeymoon’.” He says and you let out a soft laugh. You notice how the gun was still not put away and you almost let your fingers run over it. “You want one real quick?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No, I just—what if I did one on you?” You ask him and he’s thought about it, he’s thought about it a lot. The thought of you holding the gun and the thought of you looking so focused as you marked up his skin. He’s lying if he says he’s not turned on by the thought.

“On me?” He asked and you nodded. You sit up and the way you sit causes your skirt to rise up a little more showing some more of your thigh.

“I-I mean ive never done it and-actually it’s stupid pretend I didn’t say anything.” You set the gun back down and go back to how you were sitting before.

“No, no,” he comes over to you throwing the Clorox wipe in the trash. “What were you thinking about?” He moves your legs up to rest them on his thigh as he sits down.

You sit up and grab onto his shoulder for balance. He looks at you with soft eyes, his mouth slightly agape because he wants you to lean in for a kiss but instead he moves his head to kiss the fingers rested on his shoulder.

“C’mon, tell me.” He holds your face and you look down at his fingers.

“I dunno, thought maybe we could do something cute together? I know how much you hate matching tattoos when couples come in to get them and you think they’re stupid but like it wouldn’t be matching it would be more like...more like tattoos that remind us of one another you know?” You spill all your thoughts and he looks at you in shock that you thought all this.

“Like I said! It’s stupid! I know I know!” You flop back onto the chair and he shakes his head as he crawls on top of you. He grabs your hands holding them gently as he presses a soft kiss to your chin.

“I think it’s a beautiful idea.” He kisses again this time on your neck. “Should I get a heart like you?” He let’s go of your right hand and moves it to where your first tattoo is, his work of art is.

“Up to you.” You move your head back to give him more acess and he kisses once again but chuckling on your collarbone making you shiver.

“Up to me? Darling this is your idea, where do you want it?” He argues and you look over at his hand, his left hand, his ring finger naked as could be. If he ever wanted to cover the tattoo up with a ring he could, he didn’t have any tattoos on his hand anyways and you loved his hands.

“Your finger.” You spoke and he looked up. His lips red from kissing you and his hair stopped tickling your chin. “Your left ring finger.” You tell him and he looks over at his finger. The reason he didn’t do his hands because he knew it’d fade faster and he didn’t really have any ideas for a hand tattoo.

“My finger?” He looks up at you nervous as could be. “My marriage finger?” He smirks and you nod. He knew your little plan, your innocent, loving, but slightly dirty plan.

“Mmh,” you nod and sit up. He sits up as well and is face with you. “You don’t have any tattoos there.” You tap your fingers against his hand as they’re being held.

“I guess I don’t.” He kisses your neck one more time before letting go of your hand and moving to the gun. Pulling out a fresh new needle to be used.

“R-Right now?” You sit up and he looks at the clock.

“It’s my shop, it’s closed, yeah.” He assembles the gun and opens up a new set of ink. He goes over to make the sketch and applies it to his finger.

“Tom, if you don’t wanna go through with this it’s okay. Honestly I won’t be offended if you don’t wanna-“ you start and he comes over and takes your spot on the chair.

“I do want to though. I only hate couple tattoos because most of the couples that come in I know they won’t be together in a year. Most of them are yes like us, young, in love, blinded by each other, but I also can just tell they won’t be together by the end of this year. Most of the tattoos they want are ugly anyways.” He shrugs and you laugh a little.

“Hey, I saw a couple leave once with a lock and key tattoo. I thought that was cute.” You told him and he lets out a ‘pff’ noise.

“Yeah, if they didn’t get so much shading it would be cute.” Tom flicks on the gun to test it and it makes you jump. “Are you sure you wanna go though with this?” He asks seeing how scared you are.

“Yeah, it was my idea.” You carefully take the gun from him and he now instructs you on what to do next.

“Okay, okay, wipe down the skin.” Tom instructs you as you carefully grab a cleaning wipe. Wiping down the dry skin with a cold wipe already made tom sink into the chair.

“When was your last tat?” You asked him realizing he hadn’t gotten one since you two been together.

“Before we started dating? Like November before we started dating. It’s of the rose.” He reminded you of the rose on his chest that looks angelic. The rose that you loved kissing over and leaving scratch marks just below.

“I love the rose.” You remind him and he laughs.

“I know you do.” He smirks and moves your hand to rest the gun gently over his skin. “Now, you wanna be careful. Don’t press too hard okay? It can go right through the skin and cause and infection and we don’t want that.” His eyes are serious and you are too.

“Promise to tell me if it hurts you?” You say with all seriousness and he knows that. You’re so sweet to him and it’s almost like you forgot that there’s almost twenty other tattoos on him that hurt way more than his finger.

“I promise.” He leans down and kisses your forehead before you start. “Alright, turn it on.” He tells you and you do so casuing him to flinch a little just at his nerves.

“Now just follow the outline sweetheart.” He instructed you and you do as told. You look up and see him with his eyes closed. That was one thing, Tom could never watch the needle on his own skin, he could only watch the needle on others.

“I’m hurting you!” You announce to him and he shakes his head ‘no’.

“No, you’re not. Keep on going sweets.” He tells you and you cringe as you finish up the tattoo. Seeing his skin redden and how his eyes are closed makes you cringe the hardest you’ve ever had.

You finish up the tattoo, it’s a little bit wider than your heart and definitely a little longer but it’s still adorable and you’re actually proud of yourself.

“I-I’m done.” You look at it with pride. He opens his eyes and looks down and sees the most beautiful tattoo yet. He loves it, he wasn’t going to tell you it was a big messy because he loved it. He loved that you did it, he loved that you thought of it and the only way he would be covering it was with a wedding band.

“It’s beautiful.” He stares at it for a moment and for that first time you got that the feeling tom did after he’s done with with a patient. The feeling of accomplishment and the feeling of pride. “Baby, it’s beautiful.” He leans in for a kiss and you proudly kiss him back.

“You like it?” You smile and he gets up to go patch it up himself.

“It’s the best tattoo I’ve got.” He tells you and then looks over at the clock again. “Let’s get going yeah?” He picks up your bag for you and follows you out of the room shutting off the lights and locking the door behind him. His hand is softly resting on your lower back as you both make your ways out of the the shop.

You grab your keys getting in the car and getting yourself situated. He’s looking at the tattoo still admiring it. Even if you knew it wasn’t the best it was still something that meant a lot to tom.

He reaches over and rests he free and good hand on your thigh. Almost causing you to slam on the breaks feeling his hand on your bare thigh.

“You should tattoo on me more often, darling.” He rubs soft circles with his thumb.

“Oh no, that was just that time. I hurt you.” You pouted and he shook his head.

“No, no,” he kissed your cheek. “I just don’t like watching it done to me. I would’ve told you sweetheart.” He watched you calm down as he told you that.

You reach over when you’re at a stop light for his hand. You take the finger and bring it up to your lips giving it a soft kiss, you make eye contact with tom the whole time when you kiss it causing shivers down his spin. You watch him tremble under your touch until you are interrupted by the sound of the car behind you slamming its horn.

“All better?” You tease like the first time he did your tattoo. You will never forget that night, that cold london night when you were all alone getting your first tattoo. Nervous as hell walking in with the only intent being to impress your friends proving you could be good too. That though, was a year ago. Now you have been with tom for a year and loved every second of it. Moving him with him, starting a life with a boy you never thought you’d meet.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He breathes out pushing his hair back as he watches you just drive.

Nighttime drives were the best, on the way home especially. Knowing exactly what would be waiting for you when you got home was sometimes what kept tom through his day. Knowing he’d share the large California king with you. And if you didn’t pick him up because you were at home studying away for an exam he would just about always find you half asleep at your desk and would kiss your forehead before picking you up and taking you to bed.

Pulling up to the complex and making your way up to the flat to be greeted by Tessa jumping on the two of you. You reach down to pet the girl before setting your stuff down and tom pushing you into the counter. Heavy with his kisses as he appreciated your lips and body.

“Mmh, easy there.” You remind him and he breaks off and looks at you.

“You can’t just tease me in the car and expect nothing. I’ve missed you all day.” He kissed some more. You were gone longer than you thought, waking up and leaving him to go to church with your mother and then coming back to do some school work. By the time you came home he was already gone at the shop and you’d missed him by only an hour.

“I’ve missed you more but your eyes are tired and you were practically falling asleep before I did your tattoo bubs.” You hold his face and see his red eyes, the curls coming in and hanging down on his face as you held him. He did look tired and he was. He was extremely tired.

He kisses one more time before moving back. You take his hand and take him to be where you knew the two of you would make out more before falling asleep on top of each other.

And so that’s exactly what the two of you did, you stripped down and always just wore an oversized shirt and underwear to sleep and that’s exactly what you did tonight. Tom doing the same as he came out from the bathroom after brushing his teeth.

“Mmh,” he comes into bed and starts attacking your neck with kisses. “I love you.” He reminds you and you shift to face him. Grabbing his hand with the tattoo again and moving to place it on your face, making him hold your face for a moment before moving the hand slowly down to where your heart was, just right below the Breast he touches the tattoo.

Moving your leg to wrap around his you cuddle in closer and he lets his hand drop to rest on your lower back. Pecking a kiss to his cheek as you lay your head against his shoulder mumbling an ‘I love you’ into his chest. He loved when you mumbled into his chest to feel the smal vibrations of your voice.

Your hand going to touch some tattoos one more time before you fall asleep. Touching the dove that flew on his bicep, to depiction of the family crest just below his shoulder. You let your eyes wander to the butterflies and the rose on his chest, the Roman numerals that are for his grandmother and there were empty spaces but he always tells you he’s leaving those spaces for more important things.

“What if we got married?” He spoke into the emptiness of the room. You perked up from his chest just as you were about to sleep you feel your heart pounding.

“What?” You looked at him as if he was just running off the pure tiredness in his voice.

“Married, like a wedding and then maybe some kids? What if we did all of that when you graduate?” He offers and you can’t help but to smile a little have been thinking about this thought before. You go to grab his hand with the fresh heart tattoo and imagine a ring right over it, just as you thought in the first place.

“A wedding? And some kids?” You say in shock but also happiness. He nods taking your hand to kiss.

“Yeah.” He tells you and you nod but fall into his shoulder.

“Let’s talk about this in the morning, keep our excitement for then.” You go back to staring at his tattoos.

Your parents would be furious if this was the man you were marrying, but your brother did almost the same exact thing—that is marrying someone your parents hated. You knew they’d never be truly happy with tom but you were your happiest with tom and you knew he was his happiest with you and you couldn’t wait to share those moments with him.

[trashinaglass-archive]

Aftercare

Y/n helps Tom with his tattoo aftercare

Request: hey! your writing is really awesome and i saw that requests were open, so i was wondering if you could write something about tom’s tattoo and the reader trying to help him care for it while it heals, but tom is ticklish and keeps pulling away?? no pressure if this isn’t something you’d like to write, appreciate all you do!! xoxoxo

A/n: IM IN LOVE WITH THIS OMG I love Tom’s tattoo so much and I can’t even imagine how much caring for a tattoo on the bottom of the foot would suck.

A man^^

“Are you sure that’s where you want it?” You asked Tom as you parked at the tattoo studio, a cringe on your face. “I mean I’m not trying to psych you out or anything, but shit, Tom, that’s gonna kill.”

“I know, but that’s where I want it. I don’t want to get an obvious place tattooed- I mean what if it messes with my chance of a job I really want?”

“Whatever you want, gorg, but I just hope you can take it,” you said, stepping out of the car.

“Of course I can take it, darling. I’m fucking Spider-Man,” he reminded you for the umpteenth time.

“Whatever, let’s just get this over with.”

. . .

You stood next to Tom as he lay on the table, his foot out and ready for the artist as he prepared everything. He placed the stencil on Tom’s foot, smoothing it out and slowly peeling it back to leave a purple spider outline. “Check it? Make sure it’s how you want it,” the artist said pulling out a mirror for Tom to see.

“That’s perfect,” Tom confirmed with a nod.

“Alright- lay back, try not to move your foot, and if you have to, let me know and I’ll stop. Ready?”

Tom nodded his head, holding a hand out for you to grab. You held his hand between both of yours, feeling him squeeze tightly as the needle touched his sensitive skin. His other free hand moved to run through his hair as his face scrunched up in pain.

“You good?” You asked him, your hand rubbing his arm soothingly.

“Yep,” he answered, opening his eyes to look at you. “You want to get anything tattooed while we’re here?” He asked to distract himself from the pain.

“Oh yeah, I totally want to get a portrait of your face tattooed on my butt,” you joked.

He laughed, “so you can sit on my face more often?”

“Nah, so you can kiss my ass,” you joked back.

Tom puffed out a laugh, “okay, love.” You stepped toward the artist to see the bottom of his foot, a black ink spot in the way but the outline of a spider quickly coming together. “Shit,” Tom mumbled as the needle hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“Need a break?” The artist asked hearing Tom’s reaction.

“No, keep going,” Tom told him, ready to get it done. The artist nodded his head once and went back to work.

“Look at you, tough guy,” you teased. “How’s it feel?”

“It’s like fifty percent tickle, fifty percent suck,” he said making the artist laugh.

“That’s the best way to sum up how it feels,” he agreed. “My buddy sketched a devil guy and tattooed it on the sole of my foot, and yeah- definitely half tickle, half suck.”

“How bad is the fading?” you asked him.

“It just depends, but it will fade. Because you’re going to walking- it’s just going to happen, but it’s sick and you can always touch it up so it’s fine, or at least I think so.”

The tattoo was finished after a little while longer, Tom looking at the ink in the mirror before the artist wrapped it up and sent you on your way. You stopped at the store before going home, picking up the suggested soap and ointment for the healing process.

“Does it still hurt?” You asked as you got home, watching Tom walk on his toes.

“It kind of burns, but it’s not bad. It’s much more tolerable than earlier.” He sat on the couch, lifting his foot so he could look at his new tattoo. You sat next to him, looking over it with him.

“It does look really cool,” you admitted. “I had doubts when you said spider on foot.”

“Will you wash it for me?” He asked you, pouting his lips for added effect.

“Why can’t you do it yourself?”

“Because it still hurts, and you’re a lot more gentle than I am,” he answered. “Please? I love you.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile appearing on your face at how sweet the boy is. “Fine. Come sit over the sink.” You grabbed the soap and ointment, washing your hands before gesturing for him to jump on the counter, his foot hanging over the well of the sink.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” you requested. He’d been through enough pain tonight, you couldn’t bare being the cause to more. He nodded his head, patiently waiting for you to start. You turned the water on making sure it was warm and pumped a few squirts of the soap in your hand, lathering it up before using your fingertips to wash over the irritated black lines.

Tom pulled his foot away from you with the first touch. You looked up at him, scared you had hurt him but saw a scrunched smile on his face. “It tickles,” he said innocently.

“Boy,” You said back with a laugh. Looking back down to continue cleaning the area, eventually having to hold his leg down with how much he squirmed. You couldn’t blame him though, you knew just how torturous is was for someone to touch the bottom of your foot. “Why are you going to ask me to do this if you’re going to squirm the whole time?”

“Because you’re the best,” he offered.

“Yeah I am.” You rinsed off the soap and gently pat the surface dry with a paper towel, grabbing the ointment next. “Are you going to squirm over this too?” You asked as you squirted a small amount on your finger.

“Not if you behave yourself.”

“Boy,” You said again making Tom laugh. You applied the ointment to his skin and rubbing it in circles along the area. As you expected, he began twitching and trying to pull away from you. “Stop!” You yelled at him, but you couldn’t hold back your laughter.

“You’re tickling me! You stop,” he defended himself. You took a new paper towel, softly blotting the excess ointment off before slapping the top of his foot.

“I’m done. I’m not doing that again because you can’t keep still,” you joked.

“I can’t help it- I’m sorry,” he laughed. “But thank you, love. I appreciate it.” You reached up to place a kiss to his lips before he jumped off the counter, careful to keep his foot off the ground.

“You’re welcome, gorg.”

. . .

You had dinner the next night with Tom and his parents. After having a delicious meal, you helped Nikki clean up in the kitchen. You were talking to Paddy as he asked about about something when Nikki’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

“What’s that on your foot?”

You turned to see Tom in the middle of the kitchen, walking around doing a handstand. He dropped to his feet hearing his mom’s question. “Why are you doing a handstand in the kitchen?” You asked him the follow up question.

“Nothing- nothing!” he replied with wide eyes, unsure if he’d be in trouble or not.

“Did you get a tattoo?” Nikki asked him.

“Yeah,” he sighed out. “Just yesterday, it’s for Spider-Man.” He leaned against the counter and picked his foot up showing the scabbed tattoo, Paddy moving to look at it also.

“Sick!” Paddy exclaimed.

“You didn’t tell them you got a tattoo?” You asked him. Knowing how close the Holland clan were, you’d thought he’d given them the play by play.

“I didn’t think I had to?” He answered with a question. You and Nikki traded a knowing look, shaking your head at the boy you adored so much.

Added the last part bc the interview where he talks about his mom “what’s that on your foot?” is one of my all time fav interview moments

Taglist: @lucychg @yourwonderbelle @rageyoudamnednerd @maliburumofficial @cutiepiemimi13 @happywolves81 @lifeandloveandhappiness @madeinthemidnightmemories @castellandiangelo @meaganjm @spnobsessedmemes @h-oneyholland @babylsn @harrydesires @xxtomxo (add yourself here)

[sxfterhearts]

aesthetics tag!!

tagged by @flowerbeom​ 💞💞 (thank you kat!! hope you’ve been doing alright 🥰)

rules: bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold

tagging: anyone who wants to do this HAHA (im so late oops)

soft

baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night

dark academia

neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story

edgy

closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humor | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks

seventies

colorful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | diy-ing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants | likes to go roller skating or skateboarding

preppy casual

collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

cinanamon - steph

gold jewelry, slowdancing in the kitchen with a lover, sun on skin, red-tinted lip balm, lazy mornings, getting lost in foreign cities, scent of bakeries, high-waisted jeans, kissing someone’s neck, writing reminders on your wrist, sleeping in braids to have waves in the morning, growing an herb garden, gentle touches, sketches tucked between pages, flushed cheeks, tandem bikes, floating in a pool, vintage gold hand-mirror, deer grazing, softly singing while doing chores

jaesmintea - dia

oversized everything | painted nails | fairy lights | dozing off in the middle of class | tying hair up into a ponytail | round glasses | laughing so hard you can’t breathe | late night study sessions | tender hand holding | impromptu photoshoots | drowning in moondust | bathing in the light of the sunset | strawberry flavored lollipops | polaroid pictures | eagerly tugging someone down the street | handwritten love letters | smell of coffee | living with reckless abandon | crinkled pages of a journal | replaying the same part in a song over and over

naptimetea - helena

everything black | rewearing your favorite outfit | drawing late into the night | rewatching favorite shows | the bread isle | minty lip balm | falling asleep anywhere and everywhere | making green tea | useless questions when it’s 2 am | forehead kisses | sleeping in till the afternoon | love of pink | staying up to watch the sunrise | dancing in the bathroom | messy handwriting | pile of sketchbooks | talking for hours about interest | old sentimental stuff animals | hanging out on the bed and doing nothing | thick fluffy blankets

jeonginks

the thrill of leaning your body way over a balcony’s edge | the suffocating feeling when the strong wind blows down your lungs | tip-toeing barefoot | hair ruffling and cheek pinching | hugging a body pillow at night | facing the sky with closed eyes | the whimsical silence when it’s past midnight and you’re the only person awake | when you can physically feel your eyes soften when you look at someone | dancing alone with only an oversized shirt | when your sweater falls over your thighs as you stand up | humming scary but memorable lullabies | vivid imagination | w-sitting with a mini skirt and thigh high socks | heated laptop on your lap | cereal at 3 am | gliding your fingers across your thighs | bittersweet melancholy | withdrawn and distant eyes | very tight belts | wanting love but not believing in it | not cruel but not kind

scxrlettwxtches

listening to a song and remembering the times you used to listen to it on repeat | imagining yourself living in any other life than the one you have now | crop tops and high waisted jeans | forgetting to smile but not actually being upset | nuzzling your face in the crook of their neck | back hugs when you’re stressed | turning in assignments 1 minute before they’re due | wanting a relationship but getting scared the moment you’re in one | pretending that you don’t care when inside you’re burning with doubts and fears | the sound of the evening waves as you lie on the sand | lying in your bed listening to your sad playlist | exhaustion but you can’t sleep | singing loudly when you’re the only one home | feeling safe and comfortable with that person in your life | knee high suede black boots with your black winter coat | comfort over appearance | writing essays at 2 am | creative peak from 1 am to 4 am | the one that always ends up walking in the back of a friend group

hyunsracha - sav!

split-dye hair | female rappers | staying up until 6am and sleeping until 1pm | taking notes on an ipad | middle school emo music | mini skirts | late night drives | rain on the ocean | flirting with people when you’re bored | doc martens | eating ramen in the pot | afraid of being looked at | fishnets | getting joy out of making people laugh | small tattoos | crying yourself to sleep | peppermint everything | desperate for freedom | chipped black nail polish

lveletters

well-worn converse | ginger ice cream | farmers’ markets | amaretto in coffee | the sound of pen on paper | empty mountain trails | black and white photographs | vintage bicycles | roads trips with no destination | overfilled bookcases | a shoebox full of ticket stubs | granny smith apples | orange gerbera daisies | cardigan sweaters | games that tell a story | red wine in a mason jar | succulent gardens | tattoos of birds | fresh-baked muffins | a favorite pair of jeans

dnceracha - sydni

black chelsea boots | chapped lips | browline glasses | losing yourself in video games | impressionist art | pink peonies | writing down anything you need to remember | the smell of gasoline | business goth style | dangly earrings | florals | ballet flats | cuffed jeans | liking the villain | a stack of journals | generous amounts of highlighter | knives | rain on a tin roof | heavy footsteps | small-town diners

bamshine - sae

chunky black boots | not realizing you’ve been writing for hours | soft dog fur under your hand | the loud gathering of friends after an exhausting dance class | bubble tea | casual touches between friends | beach trips | airports late at night or early in the morning | coming home from travel and finally being in your own bed | leaves crunching under your foot | shopping for groceries with christmas music on the radio | loud family gatherings over a pizza | succulents | goofy singing and dancing with friends | getting so into a book you do nothing else all day except read | cool summer evenings around a bonfire | apple cider | the scent of vanilla | selfies with friends | the sting of a new tattoo

jjinyounf - cres

ocean breezes | moonlight/sunlight through clouds | sweatpants and baggy tees | empty journals | stud earrings | messy bedroom | thought-provoking movies | apple cinnamon | hot, but not sticky weather | chill big dogs | mixing flavoured vodka with ice cream | playing songs at full blast in the shower | quiet corners | the sound of bacon while it cooks | loud thoughts but quiet words | staying in bed until the absolute last second | mid-calf boots in the winter, flip flops in the summer, sneakers every other time | mental breakdowns doing anything academic-related | madras shawls | the colour combo of red, black, gold, and white

flowerbeom - kat

polaroids | saying hello to the moon | buying more books that you can read | lo-fi playlists to fill the emptiness | baking bread of saturdays | playing the same song over and over until you learn the lyrics/vocal runs perfectly | milk tea | booping your cat’s nose with your nose | keeping a stash of that one perfect pen | being the quiet listener in conversation but always has a great story to tell | sneakers over everything | watching the sunrise through cracked open blinds | leather and patchouli candles | freshly cooked rice | finding the perfect word to describe something | the crunch and squeak of walking on freshly fallen snow | writing “hello” on foggy windows | strolling through ancient forests and feeling small | kissed on bare shoulders | falling asleep to the sound of rain

sxfterhearts - rach

espresso dripping onto a cup of milk | taking pictures of food before eating | drunk karaoke | bangs | travel journals | writing out your favourite lyrics | sentimental playlists on sad days | sending multiple long texts in quick succession | white clouds and blue skies | watching the moon from your bedroom window | cafe vlogs | glittery pink eyeshadows | mailing postcards to yourself | pastel flower bouquets | baking as therapy | the feeling of strikingly cold air on your cheeks | ink stains on your fingers | intimate late night conversations in the car after a night out | writing and daydreaming to escape reality

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

War of Attrition: Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Reader Summary: Best friends with Steve Rogers, renowned Howling Commando, and married to one James Buchanan Barnes, your life wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as it could possibly be in the middle of World War II. Then you fell from a train in the Alps, and everything changed. You spent nearly 70 years as a tool of Hydra alongside your beloved, though your past with him was more often than not forgotten. Steve wakes up the 21st Century. He tries his best to adjust. Warnings: Swearing (always), talk of death Word Count: ~4,312 A/N: English is back to normal quotes. Russian and other languages (when they eventually show up again) will be in quotes and italics.

Masterlist // Book One // Book Two

Next Chapter

Steve’s POV

2012 - New York, New York. United States of America

Steve supposed he should be happy. He was alive, after all. He’d survived an alien invasion... and seventy years on ice.

By all accounts, he was lucky.

Fortunate, even.

But the more he walked around New York, the less he recognized it. The neighborhood he’d grown up in was almost unrecognizable. The building he technically owned thanks to (Y/N) and Bucky’s gift all those years ago- the building he’d lived in for years- had been torn down and replaced decades ago in an attempt to fix the structural unsoundness of the growing cityscape. It was a hideous design Steve had learned to recognize as being from the 70′s.

As a show of good will, Tony (he couldn’t call him “Stark,” not in his head. Howard would always be “Stark.”) had hired some lawyers and gotten the current owners of the building to settle and give Steve a check that had his eyes widening so much Tony actually seemed concerned they’d pop out of his head. Steve had wordlessly handed the check back to him and told him to donate it to charity or something.

Tony had deposited half into Steve’s bank account and given the other half to various charities, all approved of by Steve first.

Steve didn’t check his bank account. Between that disgustingly huge check and the back pay from technically never leaving the army, Steve had enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life. Considering he grew up the poor son of a single mother (and an immigrant, at that), Steve had no idea what to do with all of the money he suddenly found in his possession. He probably couldn’t spend it all if he tried. Inflation still messed with his head, though. He still picked pennies up out of habit, constantly forgetting they were essentially worthless now.

The technology was the worst, though. They’d tried to give him a “cell phone” but he’d given up on trying to use it beyond pressing the green button when someone called him and plugging it into the outlet on the wall to charge at night. He hadn’t had a telephone back in the 40′s. His building didn’t even have one, old as it was. He’d had to go to the lobby of the building next to his to make a call, not that he usually needed to. The only people he really talked to back then were his ma and Bucky and he was inside so often due to his health that his mother was never far and Bucky had no trouble finding him.

Computers were a different beast altogether but he’d grudgingly forced himself to learn how to use one. This, at least, had a keyboard that reminded him of a typewriter. With a little help from Natasha (he refused to ask Tony for help. The man’s techno-babble just confused Steve more) he learned how to “surf the internet”. He spent more time on Wikipedia than any other sight, but found himself on Youtube fairly often, too. The internet, at least, was helpful in learning just about anything Steve had questions about.

A video played on the screen; old propaganda videos of Steve running around the battlefield, searching bombed-out towns, and talking to important people that he remembered really disliking. It was stupid. All of it was stupid.

It was war. It wasn’t anything like this narrator made it sound. He was scared a lot. Sometimes for other people, sometimes for himself. He saw an innumerable measure of people get hurt.

Hurt his fair share himself.

He clicked the laptop off and stared at his own reflection off the screen in the dim morning light. The sudden silence did little to calm his thoughts, though the sounds of the city waking up outside was familiar, at least.

He finally looked at the file on the table, trepidation gathering low in his gut. He hadn’t looked at it yet, too afraid of what he might find. He flicked it open before he could stop himself again, heart immediately clenching painfully at the first page on the small pile.

James Morita. Deceased.

It only got worse.

James Montgomery Falsworth. Deceased.

Gabriel Jones. Deceased.

Jacques Dernier. Deceased.

Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader Dugan. Deceased.

Steve swallowed past the lump in his throat. He’d expected as much. He’d gotten a few letters from Dum Dum and Gabe’s family, but none from the people themselves. He was sure they’d have contacted him by now if they knew he was alive.

And everyone knew he was alive.

He was all over the news with the other “Avengers” (as people had started calling them). Not a single soul around the world didn’t know he was back.

He knew they were dead, but seeing it written plain as day on paper in bright red ink was something else entirely.

He wanted to stop and shove the papers back into the folder, but the next sheet below Dum Dum’s caught his eye.

Margaret Carter.

Steve hardly dared to breathe as he took in the next words.

Retired.

He scanned the page quickly.

Alive. Living in the UK. Safe.

A telephone number was listed, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to dial it. He stared at the phone despondently. It blinked back at him mockingly. She had a whole life without him. What right did he have to come bumbling into it now? He never got that dance but he was sure he still had two left feet anyway, new body be damned.

He wondered if she might have (Y/N) and Bucky’s things. He couldn’t imagine her letting anyone take them. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d kept (Y/N)’s designs hidden from anyone and everyone.

He set her paper down and picked up the next one on the pile, heart dropping again.

Howard Stark. Deceased.

Steve added Stark’s to the pile and was surprised to see another beneath it. It was on glossy new paper, obviously unlike the others even at a glance.

Anthony Stark. Alive. Active- Adviser.

Steve set the page back down away from the rest and stared at it, his recent adventure flashing through his mind.

The world may not see the man underneath the stars and stripes anymore (if they ever did to begin with), but it seemed like they still needed the hero. He bickered with Tony and the others, but they also fought tooth and nail and put their lives on the line to save the world. They were odd enough in their own ways that Steve didn’t feel completely out of place.

Peggy was still here, too. He’d talk to her soon, just... not today.

He had to find a way to live in this new world.

The crush of people on the busy streets was familiar, even if all the technology and lack of politeness wasn’t.

Then again, maybe that wasn’t so different, either.

But the stalls sold things Steve couldn’t recognize. There were lots of wires and stacks of phones that Steve was fairly sure were at least partially illegal in some way. People had their noses buried in phones instead of newspapers and magazines. Cars inside buildings looked even more futuristic than the flying car Howard had shown off at the Stark Expo back in ‘41. He’d been inside a few by now and had to admit they were nice, but he’d still stick to his old motorcycle, thank you very much. Apparently a museum had Patriot on display, so he settled for a nice “old” Harley.

Still didn’t ride as nice as Patriot did, though.

Eventually he found his way to a coffee shop. This had been a cafe, too, back in the day, but it had obviously changed hands a few times over since he saw it last. He pulled his notebook and pen out of his pocket and began sketching, trying to capture the new, unfamiliar skyline of the city he grew up in.

“Waiting on the big guy?”

Steve glanced up from his sketch at the waitress, squinting a little bit against the sun. “Ma’am?” he asked, confused. Did she mean the president? Was she an agent? Was he supposed to meet someone here?

“Iron Man. Lotta people eat here just to see ‘im fly by,” she said, gesturing to the skyline behind her.

Steve stared at the building behind her, his gaze turning flat. “Right.” It took him a second to realize she was smiling at him and he leaned forward and grabbed his wallet out of his pocket. “Maybe another time.” He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten and he didn’t know if he could handle talking to someone right now, especially a pretty da- lovely woman.

“Table’s yours as long as you like. Nobody’s waiting on it,” she said with a conspiratory wink as she refilled his coffee. “Plus we’ve got free wireless,” she said as she walked away.

Steve frowned. “Radio?”

She smiled at him over her shoulder as though he’d told a funny joke and returned to tending the other customers.

“Ask for her number, you moron,” said one of the older men sitting at the table next to his. It was startling to think Steve was probably older than him.

Oh. Wireless. The internet. Right.

Steve got up a few minutes later. He didn’t ask for her number.

The train ride back to his place was quiet. The more he looked at people the more he realized he still didn’t dress quite right for the time. He looked out the window, but that didn’t help much, either. All he saw was the strange skyline and cars and signs that he didn’t recognize.

Loki may have been a calculating, evil megalomaniac, but he had one thing right: Steve was a man out of time.

2014 - Washington DC, United States of America

Steve walked slowly through the Smithsonian exhibit. It was weird seeing his face stretched ten feet high on the wall. Hell, it was weird that there was an exhibit for him at all. The bonds tour back in ‘41-’43 had been one thing, but this was something else entirely. His entire life as Captain America was on display for the world to see.

Steve Rogers wasn’t who all these people came to see. Not really. For the last seventy years he was a character on the screen or in a comic book, not a flesh and blood person. Steve didn’t regret joining the army or participating in Erskine’s experiment, but ever since he got his new body, all people saw was the hero Captain America, not the man Steve Rogers.

Although Steve thought he was pretty dang heroic before the serum, even if Bucky did have to fish him out of fights on occasion.

Bucky.

Steve bit back a sigh and focused back on the present, though that was difficult when memorabilia of the past surrounded him almost to the point of being suffocating.

“A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honor, bravery, and sacrifice.”

The voice came out of speakers in the ceiling, dramatic and inspiring, even as Steve rolled his eyes at the words.

He could imagine (Y/N) teasing him. “Brave? As if. You’re just too dumb not to run away from a fight, huh, Buck?”

Their faces were plastered on the wall next to his and the other Howling Commandos. “You got that right, Doll. Did I tell you about the one time he picked a fight with the Ghulie brothers two doors down? He was eight and they were eleven! Got the snot kicked out of him. Had to patch him up before his ma came home and chewed us both out.”

He frowned and pulled the baseball cap lower over his eyes. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea.

“Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him into the world’s first super soldier.”

There were long display screens showing the physical difference between him before and after the serum, including some pretty embarrassing photos of him at camp Lehigh. Just next to those were pictures of the science team that worked on project Rebirth, Howard, Abraham, and (Y/N) beaming proudly in the front row. It was taken the morning of the experiment. It only felt like a few years ago, but nearly everyone in that photo was dead now. 

He’d watched Abraham and (Y/N) die himself.

No, he’d let them die.

The crowd pushed him along. Mothers with yelling children didn’t have time for his brooding. Life marched on.

He walked past Patriot, Moxie, and Valor all side by side in glass cases. Apparently Moxie’s engine had been removed and replaced with a lookalike; it was years ahead of other electric engines so Stark and Peggy had removed it and kept it hidden away for safekeeping. Patriot was as large and imposing as ever, dwarfing Moxie by comparison. Valor looked as graceful and dangerous as he remembered, all classic curves and streamlined upgrades.

The huge mural with him and the Commandos drew his attention, though, and he found himself walking towards it even though he hadn’t told his feet to move.

Their gear was placed carefully on manikins and Steve wondered briefly if they shouldn’t be behind glass or something. His eyes drifted to (Y/N) and Bucky’s gear of their own accord. It wasn’t her original suit, obviously. Chances were that was Bucky’s spare coat, but the suit on the manikin representing her was guaranteed to be a fake. She trashed all her earlier prototypes and she’d fallen in the real one. Still, it was pretty convincing even to Steve’s trained eye. Howard probably helped make it before he died; he knew the design the best out of everyone besides (Y/N).

Dum Dum’s ridiculous bowler hat and Falsworth’s bright red beret nearly made Steve smile, his lips twitching up in a weird aborted motion before falling back down into a grimace.

He turned away from the haunting faceless manikins and perused the small side room full of (Y/N)’s inventions, smiling when he remembered a specific incident surrounding a gizmo or gadget.

More than once he thought about the way Coulson would fawn over the gadgets and the stories behind them if he were here. While he’d been mighty proud of his vintage card collection (”I just obtained a mint of Lady Liberty! They only printed a few hundred of her, you know!”), Steve knew the man would do just about anything to get his hands on (Y/N)’s inventions. She’d created nearly all of the Commando’s gear, after all. It was easy to sometimes take her genius for granted back then. Even though it was war, Steve never actually thought she’d die. She always seemed so indomitable, like Peggy.

Like Bucky.

Steve was moping again. He knew it. He’d been staring at the same wristwatch walky-talky for at least ten minutes, lost in his own head.

“-They earned their stripes, taking down Hydra: The Nazi rogue science division.”

The narrator’s voice floated through the door as more people came in the smaller room and Steve made a hasty retreat, not wanting to chance being spotted because he was in such tight quarters.

He felt a little more at ease in the large room...

Until his eyes fell on the memorials.

He walked towards it with a sense of determination he wasn’t sure he really felt.

“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) met Steven Rogers when working on the program that would turn Rogers into the super soldier we know him as today and stayed friends with him ever since.

After being rescued by Steven Rogers, (Y/L/N) and Barnes fell in love and married one another while in Europe fighting Hydra, though their union was short-lived.

The Barneses were the only Howling Commandos to give their lives in service of their country.”

It seemed wrong to have their entire lives summarized in two paragraphs on a piece of etched glass. Their faces looked noble and so, so human and familiar that Steve couldn’t do anything but stare for a few long minutes.

“The Fallen Comrades” it read in huge script at the top. The left side was (Y/N)’s short biography, the right reserved for Bucky’s. The center was an etched carving of the two of them as they were on their wedding day, dressed as nicely as they could be, considering they were in the middle of war-torn Europe.

“James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes and (Y/N) (Y/M/N) “Lady Liberty” Barnes”

“When Bucky Barnes first met Steve Rogers on the playgrounds of Brooklyn, little did he know that he was forging a bond that would take him to the battlefields of Europe and beyond.”

Steve stared at that little snippet for much too long, mind flashing back to 1920′s Brooklyn, skinned elbows, bullies twice Steve’s size, and a knobby-kneed Bucky that hadn’t yet managed to grow into his big feet.

His gaze flicked to her side of the memorial, flashes of Camp Lehigh dancing behind his eyes.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N) met Steve Rogers while he was being evaluated for the super soldier program. She supported him from day one, not knowing that he’d one day save her life and lead her to her future husband, one James Buchanan Barnes.”

His eyes trailed back to Bucky’s side, his heart numb with loss at this point. He couldn’t stop reading if he tried.

“Born in 1917, James Barnes grew up the oldest child of four. An excellent athlete who also excelled in the classroom, Barnes enlisted in the Army shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. After winter training at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, Barnes and the rest of the 107th shipped out to the Italian front. Captured by Hydra troops later that fall, Barnes endured long periods of isolation, deprivation, and torture. But his will was strong. It was also during this time that he met his future wife (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and often protected her from the horrors their Hydra captors inflicted upon them. In an ironic twist of fate, his prison camp was liberated by none other than his childhood friend Steve Rogers, now Captain America. Reunited, Barnes and Rogers led Captain America’s newly formed unit, the Howling Commandos. Barnes’ marksmanship was invaluable as Rogers and his team destroyed Hydra bases and disrupted Nazi troop movements throughout the European Theater. -Bucky Barnes- 1917-1944″

He turned back to her side, his heart heavy and his mind sluggish.

“Born in 1916, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was orphaned at a young age. What would have broken lesser people, though, only fueled (Y/N)’s determination to succeed. It was through sheer force of will that she became one of the brightest minds of her time. She’s now recognized widely to have been a key factor to the Super Soldier Program and equal to Howard Stark in technological advancement. She worked closely with Doctor Abraham Erskine and Howard Stark to bring Erskine’s work to life in the form of one Steven Rogers, Captain America. The universe has a strange sense of humor, though. She was kidnapped along with the men of the 107th. In nothing short of a miracle, she met her future husband, Bucky Barnes, while imprisoned. With both of his friends in enemy clutches, it was no surprise that Steve Rogers liberated the base, saving them both. She joined Barnes and Rogers and the other Howling Commandos on the front, often providing technical support, weaponry, and combat advice for the team. She was the only female member of the Howling Commandos and was never officially a member of the American Army, though she received full honors regardless. -(Y/N) Barnes- 1916-1944“

It was more than most people got, he supposed.

You had empty graves, though. Steve wondered if Peggy had (Y/N)’s flag, or if it had gone home to the Barnes household. Steve liked the thought of that. Of (Y/N) having a family that loved her even though they never met her. Knowing Bucky’s Ma Winifred, it wouldn’t surprise him at all if the Barnes Matriarch had demanded her daughter-in-law’s flag and kept it next to her son’s at all times.

Steve had visited the graves once, and only once. There weren’t bodies there, but the sight of your names engraved on bleak marble had made him sick so he hadn’t gone back again.

He still visited Dum Dum, Gabe, and Jim though when he got a chance. People still left flowers on their graves even though some of the guys had been dead for years now.

He told himself it was all worth it. Hydra had been stopped. The rest of the Commandos (and the rest of the world, for that matter) got to live their lives without the oppressive tyranny of Hydra and the Nazis.

He tore his gaze from the memorials and walked towards the small theater. He sat in the back, not wanting to give anyone a reason to look at him longer than they should.

When Peggy showed up on the screen, he had to bite back a small pained noise. She looked so young like this, even though it was almost 10 years after he’d flown the plane into the ice.

“That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German lines. Steve- Captain Rogers- he fought his way through a Hydra blockade that had pinned our allies down for months. He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would, uh- who would become my husband, as it turned out. Even after he died he was still changing my life.”

Steve stared at the screen long after Peggy had stopped talking. He sat through the old propaganda short movies without really seeing them. It was only when he heard (Y/N)’s voice that he refocused on the present, eyes fixated on the shaky, fuzzy video projected in front of him.

“Is it rolling?” she asked, staring at the person behind the camera.

“I dunno, you built the darn thing,” said a slightly annoyed voice. It wasn’t until he’d heard Bucky speak that he realized he’d almost forgotten what he really sounded like.

(Y/N) smiled cheekily and Steve nearly smiled with her. It was that mischievous smile that meant she was about to crack a joke, often at Bucky’s expense.

Bucky headed that idea off at the pass, though. “Don’t you dare, Doll. You’re on camera and wastin’ time,” said Bucky, still out of frame.

“It’s my machine and my film, I’ll do what I please,” she said somewhat petulantly, holding her hand out to Bucky. There was a small noise that could almost be mistaken for static or wind, but Steve recognized it as a huff of laughter. He came into view a second later and sat down on the couch beside her, grinning broadly despite their almost-bickering. “Say hi,” she ordered good-naturedly.

“Hi Ma, Pa,” Bucky said, ducking his head a bit. He was such a Mama’s boy. “This is my wife, (Y/N).” There was a pause where Bucky obviously didn’t quite know what to say yet and looked to her for support.

She smiled and threaded her fingers in his and Steve was reminded how stupidly in-love they were. “I know this isn’t exactly a normal way of sayin’ hello, but I know you only have pictures of me and I don’t know how long it’ll be ‘til we get back. I wanted to give you something you could watch. I also thought you might like seein’ your son alive and kickin’,” she said, nudging Bucky’s shoulder playfully with hers.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but the effect was slightly ruined by the puppy-love look in his gaze. “And I keep tellin’ her she’s a worrywart. Things are goin’ great out here, promise. Between my girl and Steve, we’ll be home before next Christmas.”

“Steve, Buck, and the rest of the guys just finished clearing out a Hydra base nearby. I know you probably hear it all the time back in the States, but they really are amazin’. They liberated seventy-six prisoners. Wrecked half my gear doin’ it, though,” she said giving Bucky a look that would have been angry if it weren’t for the affection lining her every feature.

Bucky just smiled and kissed the side of her head loudly. “Ah, you don’t mind, Doll. It means you have something to do!” he said cheekily.

She tried and failed to look anything but pleased and turned her attention back to the camera. “I hear you make a delicious Christmas ham, Mrs. Barnes-”

“She told you to call her Mom,” Bucky reminded her gently, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of her hand.

She looked a little embarrassed and glanced away from the screen before sitting up a little straighter, that look of determination Steve knew so well glinting in her eyes. “I hear you make a delicious Christmas ham, Mom. I can’t wait to try it.”

Bucky grinned down at her, threw an arm over her shoulder, and reeled her into his side. “You gotta make enough for Steve now too, though. He eats his weight in food every day. It’s ridiculous.”

“What are you two doing?” He heard his own voice off screen.

She scrambled off the couch and practically vaulted to the recording machine. “GottagoloveyouMomandDadBuckyandIwillseeyousooncan’twaittobehomebye!”

And just like that the video ended. The screen turned black and the next video played, back to the clips of war propaganda, Captain America cartoons, and the occasional recording of Peggy, Howard Stark or Colonel Phillips.

Steve got up wordlessly from his seat in the back, his poor pamphlet crushed to a pulp in his hand.

Next Chapter

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[imasockwhoareyou-blog]

The abuse(errink)

Inks pov~

I awoke on the hard bed the owners gave me i changed my clothes and washed my self a bit latter i packed my stuff and went down stairs were mrs.jazzy was "mrs.jazzy?" i asked "yes my love" she replied sounding like she was trying not to cry "why are you selling me to those men?" i asked she faked a smiled and kissed my head she was a good mom but this will be my eighth new family it hurts ... Tears pricked mrs.jazzys eyes threatening to fall she then hugged me tightly "because if you live here you won't survive...i don't have enough money to keep the house or buy food or pay taxes and i want the best for you" she said in my ear i was trying not to cry but failed as warm tears streamed down my face "shhh its ok my child everything will be alright....i got you a picture so you can remember me and if i don't survive just remember hunny I'll be watching over you" mrs.jazzy then gave me a picture of me and her i smiled a tad as i cried i then heard a knock on the door when i opened it i sall four men "h-hi" i said softly a bit scared "we're looking for ink we are adopting her " i tried not to giggled but failed i motioned for them to come in and they did as so shutting the door behind them "im i-ink but i just want to say my goodbyes to my mother if its ok" "hurry up brat-" i looked at them confused 'why was one of them covering the others mouth' i thought to my self i shrugged the thought off and waited for a reply or at least a answer "sure ink go on" one of the men said hugging me i ran to mrs.jazzy and hugged her "i love you Mommy!" i said smiling she then handed me a blade i put the blade in my scarf and nodded she kissed my cheek and bear hug after she was done she smiled at me "i love you too honey be safe!" i nodded and ran to the men "ok im ready" i said with my luggage in one hand and my pencil and sketch book in the other they smiled at me and opened the door i walk out the house door i stop how ever when i see their car the thought of this being the last time i step on the soft grass of my mothers lawn i sighed and sall an dead echo flower i picked it up and got in the car i then notice another boy he seemed to be down "h-hey are you ok?" i asked he clinched his fist and turned to look at me "please run..." he said i was confused but that's when the guys got in the car and he instantly faked a smile i then noticed they locked the doors "im ink!,what's you're name?" i said trying my best not to cry as we drove away from my old home "so you're the creater? Any way im error"i was very confused what's a creater i shrugged it off and smiled at him before looking away

Errors pov~

I woke up on the floor and went to the shower to wash off the blood from last night i then put my clothing on and went back to my room as i was playing with my strings one of the million of men came in my room "brat we're getting the creator or whatever her name is ink !"he spat rudely"and why does this involve me?" he gave me a death glare before slapping me in the face "you're coming with us! And if you try to escape you will be punished worst then last night!" he said as new blood came from my cheek i wiped it off and followed the man to the car

~time skip~

As the creator got in the car she seemed like she was about to cry i don't blame her but she did put a fake smile on "h-hey are you ok?" she stuttered a bit nervous "pls run..." i stoped mid sentence when i sall them knowing i'd probably get beatin half to death i faked a  smiled "hi I'm ink,whats you're name?" she asked her face having a rainbow tint "im error...so you're the creator?"

Error belongs to: @loverofpiggies

Ink belongs to: @myebi

[kosmicdream]

Your Comic Baby

You know that comic or story that you made when you were a teenager (or sometimes even younger) that propelled you to really WANT to create it. FOR REAL. You put all your energy towards it, for years, determined that it was going to be the one you HAD to make. But then something doesnt go right because, comics are hard-- so you start over and over and over and each reboot gets a bit more discouraging because you have SO MUCH planned out for this thing and you’re just stuck in the loop of redoing the first 5 pages every couple of years. But something about that story, you just cant let go of. You still want to make it happen because you’ve invested and dedicated so much into it. I know that feeling. I call those stories.. your Comic Baby.

You might have a lot of babies. I know I do. But there’s always this one certain comic baby that i struggle with more than the others. Its a difficult baby because I first made this baby when I was 13. And over the course of my highschool years, I was very outspoken about how i was going to really make this a real book for everyone to read. I was constantly working on it, even taking sketchbooks and clipboards to draw it or the characters in class. People were waiting to read this story because they could see how passionate about it I was. But comics were a lot harder than I thought they would be in my mind. I mean, i knew they would be difficult but it was like my art wasn’t as good as I knew it could be when i drew comics. I didn’t get it. And I’d learn so much and so fast that once i got one chapter finished and ready to read, i didn’t like it anymore.

This process went on until i graduated highschool. This dream of making a comic. Specifically THIS comic. I had a lot of stories i was planning on doing, but there was this one comic i really REALLY invested just. My maximum comic energy into. It was different from the other comics and stories. Not that the other ones werent good, they just didnt have the same bond with me that I had with this story. This comic baby was gonna be the thing i was going to be known for and be the first comic i would presented into the world. And in the end.. it actually wasn’t.

I mean, it was, in a way. Eggshells is a prequel to that baby comic. Set in the same universe. Part of the same story, more like a mini test version reboot of the One True Baby Comic. I decided to give the comics thing another try and started to work on eggshells in August 2011, then to ink in Febuary 2012 and finally started to post it in 2013.. sometime.

I took a really long break from comics between finishing highschool and starting eggshells. I would try here and there, but not getting this baby comic out when i was still IN highschool somehow made me feel like a failure of an artist. I was very hard on myself. I didn’t really know if i was even capable of BEING a comic artist because my comics weren’t coming out how i wanted and I couldn’t finish anything. Besides that, I didn’t even know if I could even make them as a career. (I still don’t know if I can but I know I’m going to continue to try.)

When I decided to start Eggshells, i decided that it would be another attempt at my favorite baby comic because I knew that if any of my stories had the emotional legs to motivate me to get through to the final page-- it would be that one. That special baby comic. I poured so much work into planning and preparing everything in a very tradition sense. Scripts, thumbnails, drawing layouts and props and character turn arounds.. ect ect.

Then the fire happened and I lost my ‘comic bible’ of sorts. The rough draft sketches of the entire thing. It was very sad.

But even before then, actually inking pages was not very fun. Because the process i made for it was .. not very fun. I was running into the same walls that I always had when rendering comic panels. It just was too slow and I couldn’t get a consistent look that i wanted. I wasn’t sure where to put detail (or balance the detail) so I would over render constantly. I would zoom in too much. I didn’t know how much to shade and word bubbles annoyed me. I wasn’t very satisfied and I would spend way too much time on each page.

I felt pretty exhausted after trying to ink it for one year and not even getting through the first chapter. Doubt and old dread of not being capable of a comic artist weighed on my shoulders. Of course then, when the fire happened, i just decided to put all that aside again. My life kinda was.. thrown in a loop.

Similarly, my life has been thrown in another one of those loops. A different kind but still, the same sort of disoriented “where the fuck should i live” kind of things. Some of these feelings have come back, the anxieties and unsureness but.. mostly just remembering about them rather than feeling the SAME things. I have acquired a sense of accomplishment in my art .. just with a totally different comic that came out of no-where. (the worm one, you know.)

My relationship with my art has changed so much at this point and I’m so.. not.. what i had predicted for myself?? Not in a negative way. its just odd. FFAK is such a different comic than i thought I would make too. I would describe the experience of working on FFAK as like, im in a shitty junkyard car and ive decided to slam on the gas as hard as i can and see how far it’ll go. Then it just didn’t stop. It took me on a fucking journey but at 90 miles per hour. No careful consideration, so much explicit violence and sex, aggressive confrontations and social commentary. Sex hat jokes. I really got to see a side of myself that this story continues to bring out. And as I worked on ffak more and more, I would sometimes look over at the passenger seat at the Comic Baby. Crossing their arms judgmentally at me and giving me a look like “Having fun? What about ME? Wasn’t I the important one to you?? Am I not special anymore???”

So sometimes i’d feel bad. And try to work on that one again.. but it didn’t make me feel good. I felt like i had to ride the FFAK wave because that was what was happening in the present and I was discovering too much about myself to go back to this older thing that i had a frustrating history with. It wasn’t that I didn’t LOVE the other story, it just didn’t feel right to work on then. So i just let myself focus on where my energy was wanting to go: The Worm Fucks. And the worm fuck comic is the one people read first. Its the first comic of my own i really got to.. read and experience more than just the first chapter. Its been amazing but its so weird. I feel like its a different kind of artist that makes it sometimes.

I don’t regret the worm fuck comic being the one I’m known for but its still funny to me how easily it might have never happened. If the fire hadn’t taken away so much of my work, I probably would be still slowly pushing out pages for eggshells. Or maybe I would have given up and moved on to do something else with my art career? I don’t know. All i know is what I ended up doing was this weird worm comic that is still going on for .. thousands of pages! and has no end in sight! I didnt even expect eggshells to last 1,000 pages but now I can tell my page-pacing is different than how i expected. I still haven’t even finished a comic yet. Its weird? Am I able to finish comics? I guess I don’t know yet because I haven’t. i might “know” endings to my stories but its very different when actually getting it done. I understand that life is more complicated than that and things like fires can change the circumstances in 10 minutes.

So I’m feeling a fear about this uncertain future I’m facing, I’m seeing that I have to make a lot of huge life changes for where I am going to live and what I have to do to make money to support myself. I’m scared that my routine ive established with FFAK will have to change. I wonder if I’ll never be able to replicate the same exact “throw it all into the wind” energy of working like I was able to.. at least I know I can’t right now, because I need to be careful and calculated again. My surroundings arent stable enough for me to dive headfirst into my projects.

With that I’ve noticed I’m drawing eggshells a little bit and enjoying it like I haven’t before. Is it what I need right now? It feels weirdly comforting to know that, no matter what the history i have with this comic, I’ll come back to it and continue to pick at it a little. it makes me feel like, no matter where I’m going to be in this world physically-- my comics will come along with me and they dont have to leave. they arent a product of circumstance. I can get right back on the horse. Its just part of my life that doesn’t have to go away or be taken away from me. Its a nice secure feeling that there’s this art thing isnt something I have to start over. I’d rather build on what I’ve got and it might take me a long time but I enjoy the journey. That feels good to me.

Anyway, even if I’m scared about where i’ll go from here I know i’ll have my car of screaming comic babies at all different ages that are demanding my attention. and some are more patient than others, i’ve totally ditched some babies along the way that i might pick back up later or merge with other babies through some horrific experiment. I’ll even make some new ones because life inspires me constantly and I have so many problems to sort out and what better way than to project on some cool anime characters. but i love all my comic babies!!!!!! and they love me. i have unique and interesting histories with all of them.

comic baby is such a creepy word but it really feels like they are your strange brain children that are also you. i don’t ever want children of my own, but i can see that i pour.. small small aspects of that i think that energy might be into my comics. (im not pretending its actually the same thing to be perfectly clear.) They take up all your time + energy and make you constantly lose sleep..and they grow distinct personalities that you dont expect and have to deal with.. people will judge you for them and how you “raise” them (make them), you’re endlessly proud of these babies and protective and shed tears for them and want them to SUCCEED and live on forever. you want other people to love them TOO and see the best parts of them, for all their flaws. You want em all to grow up as you hoped or planned but they wont at all. They’ll be totally different but also better than you could have imagined.

Comics & Art are such a special thing to get to experience. While i hope that i can make my dreams a reality with my art, I know that they’ll always be an integral part of my life + how i experience and see life and i’m so thankful ive decided to really let room for it there. Its amazing to me that i almost thought it wouldn’t. and i wasnt going to be allowed to be happy with my art because it wasn’t good enough and i wasn’t enough. but i am. and it is good.

Thank you for reading. -Kosmic

[illusionlockarchive]

Belief and Persuasion- Chapter 7

hey folks! i’ve been working on a little batim prequel fanfic for a while n its finally done! its a little long, so im dividing it in 8 chapters total!

if you want to read more, i’ll be tagging this under ‘bap fic’ on my blog!

summary:

Joey Drew gives an interview about how he managed to build his empire, and focuses on the two things needed most: belief and persuasion, the latter of which is trickier. As he talks about his philosophy, we can see examples of his influence at work.

This chapter: Susie learns the truth, and decides she and Alice have to do something about it.

"It is quite impressive how well you are versed in this... philosophy." The interviewer admitted. "I only have one more question now: is it possible to persuade someone to pass on that persuasion to others? When you normally wouldn't be able to reach them?"

Joey's grin had reached a more malicious state. "So it is, and it is quite a powerful thing. When it becomes a cycle, you can pass your influence from person to person with ease, and soon enough you'll see how I've gotten so far as I have."

---

Susie came in, peppy as usual, ready for another week of stress, meeting with Alice and voice acting.

Or so she thought.

As she walked into the recording studio, she was immediately greeted by an unfamiliar sight. Sammy was talking to a woman, a woman she had seen making the rounds of the studio before, by the name of Allison Pendle. Joey had said before she was 'just visiting, looking for a job'. Now, however, seeing her talking so giddy to Sammy, something felt off.

"Oh, hello? I'm here, ready to start!" Susie gave a nervous laugh, catching their attention.

"Oh, oh, Susie, I'm sorry, I thought- I thought Joey had told you." Sammy stumbled over his words, avoiding eye contact with her. The woman, by his side, fell silent, as if she knew nothing she could say would help the situation.

"W-what? What... was he supposed to tell me, Sammy, what's going on? Why is she here again?" Susie took a step back, now growing more uneasy.

"Susie, I'm sorry. Allison Pendle will now be taking over the role of Alice Angel, for an ... undetermined amount of time." Sammy kept avoiding eye contact with either her or Allison, looking down at the floor.

Allison kept silent too, only giving her a sad, sympathetic look. She didn't want to be a nuisance, and it already seemed like there was trouble about.

"You're firing me?" Susie tried to hold back salty tears now forming in her eyes,

"It's- Joey can explain it better to you, maybe you can talk to him, something about you cooperating, I don't know-" Sammy fumbled with his hands nervously, clearly he wasn't ready for that conversation.

"No, I get it. Good day to you, Sammy and Allison." Susie gave each of them a cold stare and walked out, shutting the door behind her loudly.

She stomped through the studio, calling out: "Joey Drew? Has anybody seen Joey Drew? The name of the studio? Come on people!"

The other employees stared at her in awe, it was a rare sight to see the charming friendly Susie so angry and determined. Eventually, one said: "He's at his office at this time!"

Susie nodded and made her way throughout the studio to his office. Once she got there, sure enough, she found him in the act of sketching incomprehensible notes and plans.

"Oh, Susie! Didn't you get my letter in the mail?" Joey looked at her, still smiling calmly.

"You- you told me I was going to be a star! Why am I getting replaced all of a sudden?" Susie demanded.

"Now, now, I imagined Sammy didn't explain to you what's going down. Heh, figures that man is only good enough for writing songs and snatching time from my toons. Anyway, I'll be frank with you, I need you to hurry up and wake up to reality- here's my deal, either you get Alice to get back into that puddle now and you become one with her, or Allison's taking over." He explained calmly.

"You've got some nerve making all of this as if it were a game for pawns. I suppose Alice doesn't know about any of this?" Susie stared him down, returning his warm smile with her cold glare.

"She doesn't, and she won't need to, if you just do as I say. I mean, you'll be Alice Angel if this goes off without a hitch, isn't that what you always wanted? To be a shining angel?" Joey moved his hands in a mystifying manner.

"You can keep your promises of grace to yourself. You should know I care more about Alice than to do her over like that." Susie felt the tears come back on as her mouth wavered.

She exited out of the room, thoughts swirling in her head. What could she do? Surely Joey just wouldn't let Alice be herself with Allison around either. She felt desperately trapped, how oh how could she fix this?

She made her way to Alice's private room, although she wasn't there. She sat on the bed, running her hands through her hair in frustration. Then she noticed a tape recorder near the bed, with a note stuck to it "Susie, is this yours? Looks like you left it here a week ago or so."

Without thinking, she took it, and started venting all her feelings. When she was done, she put it down on the bed, burying her head in her arms, crying softly. There had to be a way to fix it, there just had to...

The door swung open, and Alice gasped as she found her like that. "Susie!" She exclaimed.

"Alice!" Susie got up with a start, barely thinking as she put her arms around the angel.

"Susie, what's going on- I talked to Sammy and I saw Allison was here again, I couldn't find you, I'm scared Susie, Sammy said Joey has something planned for us and I'm not sure if I trust him anymore-" Alice went off, shaking as she sped over her words mindlessly, she was obviously shaken up.

Susie hugged her tight. "I know. I know. They're going to replace me if I don't convince you to come back into the puddles and come out like Joey wants you to."

"Wh- but! But that's just- cruel! They can't force us to do that- we're- you're- you're the best voice actress for me, Susie, you gave me life, you're the one who started Alice Angel! I don't want this!" Alice protested, pulling away and looking Susie in the eyes.

"I know, I know but..." Susie stopped, desperation now forcing her to think of a solution. Then she realized. What Joey wanted as a final result was a perfect Alice Angel out of her and Alice, right? "I have an idea. Joey wants you and me to become one, but he thinks we can't be perfect. We'll show him who's wrong. Let's become one now, Alice and we'll show him he doesn't need Allison or a different version of you to have the perfect angel!"

"... Susie, what are you saying?" Alice took a step backwards, averting her gaze from her beloved voice actress.

"It's- please, Alice it's the only way. I've thought about it, we have to do it. If we don't, Joey will get rid of us, or at least, just me, but then, we won't- Don't you want to be with me anymore? Do you like Allison better too?" Susie grabbed her hands desperately.

Alice looked back at Susie, sighing. "No, I don't. I want you to be my voice actress, no one could replace you. I'm just-"

"Then please!" Susie squeezed Alice's gloved hands gently, tears in her eyes.

"Susie, you don't know what this will do to us. What if we aren't ready? What if we lose ourselves, what if- what if I'm really not perfect enough?" Alice looked deep into her eyes, her expression also somewhat sad and sympathetic.

"You are perfect you are- we are perfect. I know we are. Please Alice; please Alice, please, please, please..." Susie couldn't stop herself as the tears came falling down and she lowered her head, crying into Alice's hands, her tears mixing with the solid ink that formed the Angel, creating ripples on her gloves.

"If we are so perfect, then why is Joey getting rid of you? Why did he talk about remaking me?" The thought crossed Alice's mind, but she dared not say it out loud, fearing she'd only make the situation even worse.

"Susie..." Instead, she opted to do something else. "I've been wanting to tell you, how important you are to me-"

"Then become one with me." Susie was quick to interrupt her.

"Susie. There's no going back from this. If this will make you truly happy, we'll do it. If you really believe we can be perfect together, we will. Do you understand? We won't be able to go back." Alice looked at her firmly, holding her hands sternly now.

"I do, please, I want it more than anything, there's nothing else we can do." Susie nodded, though she seemed like she was not listening; only fixated in her goal.

"Very well." Alice sighed. "Come with me. I faintly remember something that Bendy tried to tell me about how it should happen."

She took Susie by the hand, and guided her through the studio. All the while, the two were silent, not daring to speak to each other, but both already set in the same goal. They arrived to the room Susie had been expecting, the ink machine, pumping ink into the pipes ever so rhythmically.

"Ok, don't mind the strange procedures, but I'm gonna need you to get directly in front of... here." Alice guided Susie to the front of the machine, where a big pipe looking structure attached to many cogwheels stood.

Alice walked to the side of the ink machine and reached up to turn a small cogwheel etched into the side of the machine, and sure enough, the front of the machine started dripping ink. Not much, but enough to already cover Susie's feet.

"Hey!" Susie couldn't help but exclaim with surprise.

"See, you need to understand, for this to work, you have to be covered in ink. Bendy was very vague, but he said Joey was also somewhat vague too, you need to- give up what is human about you, embrace the idea of becoming ink." Alice tried to explain.

Susie took a deep breath and nodded. "I understand." She crouched down and let herself bathe in the liquid, trying to control her reflexes and holding her breath, although every muscle in her body felt the need to get away, she kept telling herself how much she needed to do it.

Eventually, she was successfully covered in it, and stood up, although she couldn't see. She went to wipe the ink off her face, but Alice stopped her:

"No, don't!" She raised her voice, making Susie stop and flinch a bit. "Remember what I said. See, this is why this was a bad idea..."

Those words only made Susie more nervous however, as she tried to talk in protest to Alice, but she only choked in the ink, coughing. Alice ran to her, panicking.

"No, no, see? This is what I was afraid of, you're not ready, I'm n-" Alice gently held Susie in her arms but was cut off as Susie inexplicably pulled her close, enveloping her in her inky form, almost as if she wanted to absorb her.

"Susie, wait-" Alice struggled as she was being slowly forced into all the ink.

"You said we could, please, Alice, remember, there's no other way!" Strangely enough, the more Alice was forced into the ink, the more she could hear Susie clear as day- had she accepted becoming ink so quickly? Or was she that desperate?

Alice closed her eyes, against all better judgment, she dove in. And for a moment all stood still. Two minds converging, diverging, memories blurring and becoming one, now Alice felt all the sadness and fear Susie could feel, and Susie felt all the insecurity and doubt Alice was going through, but most of all they felt one emotion in common, and it was-

Alice, at the last moment, broke out in dissonance. No, if you truly loved something, she believed, you had to fight for what's right, then the person you love would understand that you only wanted the best for them!

But it wasn't enough, she was still pulled back, and as the ink cleared, sure enough there stood Alice Angel, but in a strangely more humanoid form, and with a significant deformation, nearly mirroring perfectly the side where Alice had previously tried to back out of.

[brinytrolls]

Hey there! I need some help! I really want to be an animator in the future. I just rurned 18. But i havent improved on my drawings. Ive stopped drawing for 2 years. And just recently started getting back at it. And its hard to get back at it. i feel like i have creative block! I only draw faces! Do you have anything or resources or ANYTHING to help me??

i mean im not a pro but buckle in im gonna compile a list of tips to try and help you the best i can-this could get lengthy! 

this is so cliche i can hear u groaning already but-practice! practice every day if u can. even the smallest thing is good! draw as much as you can every day. 

the biggest thing thats helped me in the past couple of years: make an inspiration folder. save everything. anything that inspires you in any way. like the colours of one? the way another artist draws hands? eyes? save it. 

separate the folder into sub-folders. make a folder for tutorials you see around tumblr that look useful. a folder for interesting poses-mine has a lot of stock photos in it. if theres a particular type of art that inspires you a lot [mine is concept art + character designs] make a folder for that. 

this is long enough that it needs its own tip-but i have a folder called “interesting expressions” that has helped me a lot. ill have huge sai files full of screenshots from episodes of cartoons with expressions that are interesting to me-take an episode of a cartoon you like and screenshot it when something interesting comes up. save it. it might be useful one day. i do a lot of sketch sheets just drawing expressions in my own style. 

don’t subscribe to the weird internet attitude that refs are bad. theyre the best friend u will ever have. use them! if u rly cant find a ref for smth-try taking a photo. i take shitty webcam photos of my hands when i cant get a pose right 

take inspiration from other artists. this isn’t by any means telling you to steal an artists entire art style-but if you like the way a certain artist draws eyelids or how they ink fur or how they colour eyes or how they....put a weird amount of detail into their characters teeth?? try it! most art styles are just a mangled mishmash of inspiration from other art sources. 

it doesn’t matter if you have a “consistent art style” or not. i know it can be frustrating for things to look different every time, but tbh its ok!! drawing in different styles is super fun. try different styles! 

try different things in general. different colouring styles, brushes, anything. i went through a phase of shading everything in eyeburningly neon colours. it was fun! 

draw things you’re scared to draw. yes, even hands. don’t try and hide them in the drawing. you’ll feel so much more accomplished if you draw them.

draw new things! something im awfully rusty at is animals. i find the easiest way to learn new things is separating them into shapes. i trace over photos of the subject from different angles, then use the shapes as my construction for when i draw them without tracing. the shapes help if you want to exaggerate features later on. 

speaking of construction drawing! heres a tutorial that explains it better than i could: http://lackadaisy.foxprints.com/exhibit.php?exhibitid=356 it helps keep characters consistent. 

watch youtube videos-art tips & speedpaints i find to be v useful. watching videos about basics geared to animators will help a lot-gesture sketching is very useful topic to learn. 

heres a site for online figure drawing. they have a class mode which can help a lot! 

just fuckin indulge urself. do it. make characters solely based around things u enjoy drawing. draw that thing u like. draw what makes u happy.art is fun dont make it a chore-and if it feels like a chore to learn new things, try something new and then reward yourself with drawing something you enjoy. 

im sorry these are all kinda generic sounding but i hope they can help at least a bit?? i can be more specific if theres a particular topic you want tips for!! im by no means any kind of professional but if u want advice on smth specific like character design or anything just send me another ask! hope these help at least a bit

[maknaekink]

found you.

Based off this AU.

words: 1,817

rating: Fluff fluff fluffy AU (I’m thinking about making more out of this AU so tell me what y’all think)

summary: A world where when you write something on your skin with pen/marker/whatever the hell you want, it will show up on your soul mates skin as well. Yugyeom’s favourite part of the day is watching small doodles and lines show up on his skin, hoping to one day decipher your scribbles and be able to find you.

Yugyeom watched as lines began to surface on his forearm once again. You were obviously bored, wherever you were, because it was a new piece that carried on for ages. He watched, hypnotised as you drew a fairy and surrounded her with intricate patterns and flowers. He watched as you drew the one flower that made it’s way into every piece you drew.

A lily.

He had pieced together bits and pieces about your life and who you were. You were an art student somewhere in Korea, itching to become a tattoo artist. He discovered this as you scribbled down your art history homework on your arm before writing a reminder to ask Hyungwon for the name of the tattoo parlour looking to hire. Yugyeom had frowned when he saw another boy’s name but shook his head as he prayed that you would write down the name of a shop and he’d be able to find you.

He had tried meeting you before, writing locations on the back of his hand, hoping you would see it and realise. But you never came. You had somehow assumed it was an old reminder, completely forgetting the fact that every time you marked your skin, you marked his too.

He himself was a bit of an artist as well, although he prefered dance. He would add little details to your pieces here and there, allowing you the reminder that he was out there and waiting.

You knew he was there. Adding things, giving you reminders. But you were scared. Scared that he wouldn’t be satisfied with the broke aspiring tattoo artist you were. Scared that he wouldn’t be everything you dreamed of. So you pretended to be oblivious.

After a while, Yugyeom gave up on trying to trick you into meeting him and just tried to meet you by chance. Hoping that the supermarket you were going to was the one near his dance studio or that you bought your paints from the same store his friend Jackson worked in. No such luck.

You began to make your reminders a little bit more specific, as if understanding somehow that he was trying to find you.

Breakfast @ Kwang’s Noodle Palace with KiKwang.

Buy new pens @ Kinokuniya by Bingsu Barn.

You would linger a little longer after paying the bill or pretend to not see your pens as you circled the familiar store for the umpteenth time, hoping to run into him.

No such luck.

Years began to pass as you continued to scribble along your skin here and there. It had become a routine for him, watching you aimlessly doodle. You continued to watch as he added himself into your pieces, taking pictures of the final products for your boss at the tattoo parlour. You love how he signed his initials next to yours. KYG.

KYG. Three letters which belonged to someone who could change your life forever.

Your move from Busan to Seoul had been a quick one, and you thrived on being independent. You were doing what you loved and you loved where you were headed. What if KYG was controlling? Or misogynistic? Or unsupportive of your dreams?

You shook your head as you walked through the coldness of autumn to the shop, rushing past others on their way to work.

“Y/N!” Your boss and piercing expert, Im Jaebum, called, “You’re here!”

“Yah! Sorry I’m late, the train was packed this morning so I decided to wait for the next one.”

“No worries.” He pushed his chair back, “Could you man the front desk for a bit? I have to go pick up my little brother. He wants an industrial but is too pussy to come here on his own.”

“Yep, sure.”

“Cool, you’ll like him. Youngjae is pretty cute.”

“You say that about all your brothers. The artsy one, the music one, the dancey one, the martial artsy one. They’re all cute, I get it. It was a common trait in your foster home.” You laughed.

“Don’t sass me, girl. I do pay you.” Jaebum grinned before ducking out of the shop to pick up his brother.

“Next appointment is...” You mumbled to yourself, hoping to get some designing time in, “4pm, Jeon Jungkook.”

You internally danced at the four hours of free time you now had to decorate your arms with. Your designs were by far the most popular and you needed to produce new one.

“What shall our centrepiece be today?” You bit your lip and flipped through the animal and mythical creature designs, “Mermaid it is then.”

You began to lightly sketch the mermaid in the centre of your forearm with the carbon paper. You stopped mid sketch, and decided to put supposed Mr. Right to the test.

“Let’s see if you notice what’s missing, jagi.”

You rubbed the lily off and replaced it with a magnolia, continuing your design until the ink had finally dried on your skin.

Yugyeom was at the dance studio with Jungkook and Bobby when he began to see faint lines appear on his forearm once again.

“What are you painting for me today, my love?” He whispered as he continued to watch your masterpiece come to life. He loved watching you create, it was his favourite part of the day. It meant that you were well and alive somewhere in Korea, doing what you loved. He could just imagine you sitting at your desk, with your tongue out in concentration. He could feel that you were one of those people.

“You should bring your soulmate’s designs to the tattoo parlour I’m going to later.” Jungkook said, “They may just hire her.”

“Last time I checked she has a really good job. Her salary is more that you’ve ever earned.”

“Salty!” Bobby chided, “Jungkook was just making a suggestion, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s finish this routine, then we can go watch Kookie squirm under the needle.”

“You should get one too!” Jungkook bounced on the balls of his feet, “Something significant to you.”

Yugyeom shook his head, “Not without her permission.”

“So ask her. There’s bound to be a pen somewhere.”

“It’s okay. I’d prefer to ask her in person. Then she can tattoo me herself.”

“You guys will be one of the the most artistic couples I know. A tattoo artist and a dancer. Your kids will be so creative Van Gogh will have a run for his money.” Bobby laughed before turning the music on once more, “Alright then. 5, 6, 5, 6, 7, 8...”

You had finished your mermaid piece and was awaiting any amendments made by him. He would notice right? He had been watching you sketch for almost your whole life, he had to know.

You remembered the first time you sketched on your skin. It was senior year of high school, and you had been bored in your Spanish class, no dar una cogida. You had been scrolling through tumblr, looking at tattoo designs for your friend. You spotted an intricate design of a lily of the valley and immediately needed to mark your skin with the design. So you did.

Once you had finished, you noticed a word below your art piece.

Wow.

He had to remember. It was your first encounter with the man on the other side.

After two hours of staring at the piece on your arm, you noticed a lily being sketched at the bottom of the portrait, making you smile.

He knew. He knew what was missing.

Maybe it was time to let him in. Maybe it was time for you to allow him the luxury of being yours.

Yugyeom traced his attempt at a lily at the bottom of your new design with a sharpie, slightly upset that he hadn’t done it as well as you would have.

“Sorry, love, never going to be as nice as yours.” He blew on the wet ink and lay down on Jungkook’s couch.

“Yah! Jeon Jungkook!” Heol, Jungkook’s girlfriend yelled, “You better pick a nice design. I’ll be stuck with it forever as well.”

“Well, there goes my forehead dick tattoo idea.” He grinned at her cheekily before looking at his friend, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Yugyeom smirked, more than ready to watch Jungkook hold back tears as he got his and his girlfriend’s names tattooed over his heart.

“Are you sure I’ll be okay?”

“My brother makes a shit ton of money off his tattoo parlour. You’re lucky he even squeezed you in, pabo.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. You know this is just nerves speaking.”

“Mhmm. Suck it up.” Yugyeom ran his hand through his blonde hair, “At least your pain tolerance is better than Youngjae’s. Jaebum said he had never heard anyone scream as loud as him when he pierced his ear.”

“Oh lord.”

“Don’t pussy out now. You promised yourself you would do this.”

“Right. No turning back now.”

The pair pushed their way into JB’s tattoo shop, heading to the front desk where they found Yugyeom’s foster brother.

“Hm, the artist went to buy lunch for us, so she’ll be a while.”

“She?” Jungkook gulped, “Is she goo-”

“The best.” Jaebum answered firmly, “One of the best artists I’ve ever met.”

“Okay, okay.”

“You can check out her designs if you want. The book is somewhere in the pile on the table.”

Jungkook picked up the first book, which contained the designs for lettering, “It’s okay, I’ll just look for the font I like the best.”

Yugyeom’s curiosity to see how good this artist supposedly was compared to his girl caused him to grab the book under Jungkook’s. He made himself comfortable on one of the loveseats in the waiting area and read the front cover.

Y/N’s designs.

“Y/N.” Yugyeom murmured, “What a pretty name.”

He opened the book and froze. This piece looked so familiar. From the sharp edges of the vampire queen’s teeth to the lily at the bottom of the page. He frantically flipped through the book and found every single design you had designed together with your initials next to his near the bottom.

The door to the shop opened, “Yo boss man, they didn’t have your go to order so I just got you the beef fiesta burrito.”

There you were in all your glory, tight black jeans, Ramones t-shirt and black boots.

“Y/N.” Yugyeom stood up from the seat.

“Hello there...” You tried not to drool at the insanely attractive boy in front of you.

“This is my brother, Yugyeom, and his friend Jungkook. You’ll be doing a piece for him today.”

“Nice to meet you, Yugyeom,” You loved how his name rolled off your tongue.

You stretched your inked arm out to shake his hand, only to be met with a hand connected to an arm with the same exact design. You looked up at him and gaped as he grinned.

“Found you.”