#sketching in my lunch break at work everyday is helping keep it up during the week

[sunmontuedraws]

Okay. Making myself a deal. If I draw (and post) for 90 days in a row then I can buy myself some new art supplies. Like a stylus. I need the practice and muscle memory back before I waste money on tools I won't use...

[apathycarestostudy]

Academic Success Tips from My Parents

Out of all the things my parents enforced in my siblings and I, the most profound were educational and life success tips. Legit would get 100% regardless of the subject/ course/ workload. Here’s a bunch of them.

Before class:

Spend no more than a quarter of the journey to class chilling. 

Organize your study materials according to subject. Files and folders in the back, then textbooks, then notebooks. Stationery in appropriate places.

Always carry a folder full of blank sheets (plain, graphed, all the kinds!).

Fix your bag before you sleep. Hang your wristwatch on the strap so you don’t forget it when you go.

Clear your desk/study area as soon as you’re done - you’re not allowed to move out of that spot until you do.

If you have a study journal/ school diary/ study guide, read it everyday before class. 

Be the first one there, at least 15 minutes early (30 mins to an hour early is favourable).

If the teacher walks in, you better greet them with a smile, regardless if they’re crabby or not. Everyday.

You have the option to relax and do whatever before the teacher walks in. However, you have to preview the lesson before it starts. No exceptions.

Make ‘preview’ notes, which is basically little helpful tidbits about what’s to come, stuff you’re not sure about, questions and guides, how formulas connect - literally anything that’ll make the class go smoother for you.

During class:

You can talk to your friends before class, but as soon as it starts, not a word or glance in their direction.

Have all your materials either out if you have the space, or within reach. 

Listen carefully and take notes where appropriate (on printed ppts, on the corners and margins of the textbook, or an actual notebook), always, every class. There’s no such thing as ‘I didn’t take any notes today’ or ‘There wasn’t anything going on’. 

Always write the date and the day. Make an index as you go.

No highlighters during class. Underline textbooks with pencil only, and use pencils for sketches.

Whenever a teacher assigns work or extra readings or reference materials, write them down - always. Optional or not.

You better write down test/ quiz/ exam dates, even if they’re happening the next day and you’ll obviously remember. 

Speaking of exams, if the teacher mentions that word, write down everything they say, dialogue tags and all.

Answer as much questions as you can. It would be favourable if you answer twice per class or more, but it’s fine if you don’t. Your performance matters more.

Give people a chance to answer and ask questions.

Listen to what they’re saying and what response the teacher gives, even if you know it. Listening skills are important.

If an exercise is assigned during class, get on it like it’s an exam, and show the teacher your work (if possible) for corrections.  

If there’s a couple minutes before the class ends, but the teacher’s lesson finished for whatever reason (a final exercise is going on and you finished, they’re taking questions etc.) you keep to yourself if you’re not talking to the teacher. Read a book, do some work, anything productive.

You can help your friends and classmates now. Never say no, even if you’re not sure, say so and let them know you’re willing to struggle with them for a solution.

If you lend stationery, get it back before you bounce.

Arrange your materials backwards as you go through the day.

If you have another class right after, you better get over there immediately. It doesn’t matter if you’ve gotten more than enough time to mess around. Take your friends if you if you’d like.

During breaks:

Study, read, review, or preview. Something light for at least a quarter of the break this time.

If someone asks for help, help them (again). It’s good practice for you to see if you understand, and it’s good practice for when you go out into the world.

NEVER GO TO TEACHERS UNLESS IT’S ABSOLUTELY DETRIMENTAL.

If you have nothing light you can do, you can do whatever. 

After class:

Start by finishing all your homework. It isn’t due this week? Doesn’t matter. Always do your homework as soon as it’s assigned.

Once you’re done with your homework, check your study journal/ school diary/ study guide again. Take note of what’s coming up.

stUDY NOW PLEASE. All the subjects / courses you’ll have tomorrow should be either a) memorized if you didn’t have more than an hour of homework time or b) read and reviewed and tried and tested if you did. 

You can use highlighters now. Make summary notes and formula master lists. 

Organize your stuff again. 

You’re caught up with everything and barely did an hour today? Time to bust out the optional readings then.

You have no extra stuff too? Time to go on the computer and get some resources yourself. 

If there’s a big project, plan every step with excessively precise details. Follow them. Don’t forget to add buffers in case you miss something.

You missed something? Plan all over again. 

Go to sleep by 7 if you’re in school and 10 if you’re in college. You haven’t finished studying? I’ll wake you up at 3/4 in the morning then.

Did I mention do your assignments the day they’re assigned to you?

No relaxing till the weekend. You wake up, go to classes, come back, shower, eat, then study until you go to bed. Oh, and lay out your clothes right down to the shoes and socks (accessories too) right before you do.

Weekends:

Sike. You only get one day off. 

(Legit tho, back in the day, my work week was from Sunday to Thursday, and my parents would allow Thursday night and half of Friday off. We had to get up at eight-thirty in the morning max and study until lunch with zero breaks. Lunch would usually be at 1:30 pm. You can forget about most of Saturday too. We’d study till lunch, then have to go back again until late afternoon (about 5:30 pm - 4:30 if we were lucky). And then of course, since we were starting back on Sunday, we’d be in bed by 7. People would wonder how in the world we’d be able to sleep at 7 with all that we had to do as students - now you know.)

Don’t get me started on exams lol. This may seem harsh, but without this type of discipline, I wouldn’t be doing as okay as I do now with the subpar standards I’ve seemed to developed in college. Well. I’ve got a bunch of other things I used to do (some still do), as these are only the ones I could remember on the top of my head. More coming soon maybe?

Hope this helps you!

EDIT: DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT ADVOCATING ILL-HEALTH. THIS IS ONLY THE ACADEMIC ASPECT OF MY LIFE, NOT THE ENTIRETY OF IT. IF YOU’RE TRIGGERED, READ THIS. THANKSS.

[loveau]

You + Me = ? | Wendy

Genre: highschool!au, fluff

Word Count: 2,989

Request: Hi, there! 😁 May I request a high school!AU scenario with Wendy where the reader needs help with math and she becomes the reader’s tutor, then the reader improves in math and they fall in love and all that fluffy stuff?

Summary: While your math grade seems to be falling, it’s not the only thing that does once a pretty math tutor comes in to help you. You can only hope she’s there to catch you like she’s doing for your grade.

You curse at the dumb equations staring mockingly at you from your paper. Stupid algebra, stupid factoring, stupid polynomials. Nothing was sticking in your brain, and, at this point, it was pretty much fried. You bang your head on the desk and groan into the multiple eraser markings sticking on your cheek.

Yeah, you totally shouldn’t have convinced the counselor to let you take that extra elective instead of the math class. The entire year’s worth of not doing math had been both a blessing... and a curse. You sat in a class of mostly sophomores as the only junior taking that algebra course. It stung your pride to sit there staring at a low mark as they seemed to be passing with ease. 

The only other junior in the class was the TA, and she stops by with a concerned look. However, one glance at your half done worksheet (with most of the answers wrong, by the way) she concludes that you’re frustrated and need help.

“Hey,” she calls. At this you put your head up and come face to face with her. “Do you need help with this? I can tutor you after school if you’d like to get help outside of class.”

“Oh my gosh, really, Wendy?! You’re literally an angel!” She smiles at you, only proving further to you that she not only acts like an angel, but she looks very much like one too.

She waves you off dismissively, but the red in her cheeks shows that she appreciates the comment. One look at your paper shows her that you really were in need of the help. No offense, of course, but the factoring you had done so far somehow led you to completely get rid of the variables. While this led to much confusion on her part where to begin, she was amused by your doodles on the page.

“You draw?” You peer down to see what she’s referring to. There’s small little sketches of your favorite characters from some show you were currently watching. A slight flush of embarrassment moves across your cheeks, as if it were a crime to like your shows. However, you just shrug to play it off cool.

“Kind of... I usually do this when I’m bored.” You realize that you’ve just admitted one of the reasons why you are behind in class. Wendy only reassures you with a smile, deciding not to point that out if she caught it at all.

She tries to help you as much as she can before the period’s over. You’re much too distracted by the curve of her bangs over her forehead and wonder how she must have done it. Done what? You know... looking so effortlessly stunning. You’re well aware of how she uses a hair curler in her bangs sometimes. You’ve seen it at lunch a couple times when she’s laughing loudly with her friends, but you could never bring yourself to look away.

About to be caught again, you quickly busy yourself with whatever problem you left off on. Wendy watches you for a couple more moments before deciding that she should start packing up and taking some last minute questions. You’re scribbling down the answers to the next couple of questions and she makes a mental note to check in with you later. In the mean time, she hopes you don’t mistake her number she wrote on the corner of your page for some polynomial without variables.

Luckily you caught it fairly quickly before the school day ended, when you had decided to continue your doodling on a previous sheet. And just like that, you were meeting Wendy after school to go over your homework that you had completed in class. Nerves began building up inside of you. Both at the idea of seeing Wendy again, but also... her relation to your math class reminded you of an upcoming test. As well as your low grade. It wasn’t that bad per se, but it wasn’t exactly ideal. You were bordering from a C+ to a B- and you knew you’d be in for it if your parents saw that as a final grade. 

Your leg bounces as you wait by one of the lunch tables, and it distracts you so much that you miss the text from Wendy that she’s on her way and should only be another minute. By the time you’ve formulated your runaway plan and to make sure your FBI agent can’t track you down when you fail your next test, Wendy arrives with a chipper smile and taking a seat right next to you. Immediately her smiles drops at your worried face.

“Hey, are you alright? We don’t have to be meeting up right now if you don’t want to.”

“No! You’re fine.” Her concerned eyes don’t stop trying to figure out what’s eating you until it clicks.

“You’re worried about next week’s test, right?” You nod and Wendy pats your shoulder. However, she doesn’t take her hand away and instead squeezes your shoulder so that you feel the warmth through your shirt. You’re not that surprised to find that warmth has spread all throughout your body as well. “I can totally help you with that! I often see you looking frustrated in class but didn’t want to pester you. I figured today wouldn’t hurt.”

You shake your head and find that you were grateful she stepped up today. You could never with how preoccupied you were with trying to reteach yourself concepts as well as her being almost intimidatingly pretty. If it wasn’t obvious, your crush on her really made you freeze up. You remember developing your crush on her in your sophomore year, when the two of you shared a literature class together. The two of you got to interact some, but not much. What stood out to you was the reenactment of Romeo and Juliet where she played Romeo and you read the part of Juliet. Her character building and voice somehow made you feel as if you were really Juliet, easily swooning by her love confessions. You really began to daydream that they were real... and in modern english.

“If I bomb this next test, then I’m easily set to get a solid C instead of a C+. I have almost an 81 in the class, but just barely.”

Wendy hums and fixes her ponytail to stall while she thinks. Suddenly she brightens up and snaps her fingers. “Have you thought about doing the extra credit? It could definitely bring your grade up to an 85 at least! It can act as a safety net in case you do poorly on the test, but I won’t let that happen!”

“How so?” She takes your hands into hers and looks you earnestly in the eyes.

“Starting today, I will tutor you everyday to make sure you feel prepared and confident for the test. It doesn’t have to be just after school either. We can meet at lunch, during class, before school, or any time we can work it out. I promise you I will be there for you so that you don’t fail.” Your heart beats a little quicker at her promise, but the intensity also adds butterflies to your stomach. You can only nod in response and realize you’ve been holding your breath by the time she turns around to get some papers out. “Here, I keep these on me in case anyone approaches me outside of class for help. These are some of the extra credit sheets that’ll help you. They also pertain to the test so it’s a double whammy.”

She helps you get started on the sheets, telling you they’re honestly easy points to boost your grade. They really are with how much time Wendy spends talking you through the concept and making sure you’re not iffy on a problem. It’s like this the rest of the week. However, you also realize she’s been super affectionate once you get a problem right or giving herself whatever excuse to get as close as possible.

Sometimes her pencil might roll away from her as you work and she allows it to roll far enough so that it hits you. She either brushes her fingers against your hand or arm or she purposely touches her fingers loosely against yours if you happen to pick it up before she does. Some comments or corrections she makes on your paper also come in the form of hearts. It’s hard for you to keep your cool when she is being playfully flirty with you, but it also saddens you that it’ll most likely no longer happen once the week is over and you’ve taken your test.

“Here,” she interrupts during your last session on Friday. The two of you are sitting together at lunch and she decides to write down some problems for you to practice.

“Wendy, this is basic math. I did this in, like, second grade.”

“I just want to warm up your brain. Go ahead!” You look back down at the 2+2 written on the paper. Once you write down a hesitant 4, Wendy adds more simple math problems to your paper. The lunch bell rings signaling that you get to your next class. “Make sure to do the last one! I’ll see you next Monday on test day. Oh! And make sure to text me on the weekend if you have any questions.”

You’re too busy packing up to see what she’s written on your paper, but you assume it was something like 1+1. You figure that she must be doing this to reassure you and give you a slight break since all you’ve been doing is working on factoring for the past couple of days. By the time you get into your history class, a friend of yours points to the paper on the top of your notebook.

“How’s it going with Miss-I’m-too-pretty-to-make-you-function?”

“Shut up, it’s not like I’ll be seeing her after the test. She’s just tutoring me.”

“But you said the touches-”

“I’m overthinking it. It’s fine.” They roll their eyes at your dismissiveness. You’d been trying to swallow down the crush over the past couple of days, but Wendy honestly made it too hard. Her subtle touches and words of encouragement did nothing but make you hopeful. It also didn’t help that her bright smile plagued your mind whenever you went home and you were... looking forward to going to your math class.

“Hey, I think you’re overthinking the part where you think you have no chance.”

“That’s because I don’t.” They tap your paper and say otherwise. You’re unable to question them since they turn away to focus on the teacher beginning the lesson. You try to focus on the material about some revolution somewhere, but you can only focus on running through equations, the quadratic formula, perfect squares, and Wendy in your mind.

She stays on your mind the entire weekend as well, and you’re worried about the material even though you’ve run through it so many times you can practically do it in your sleep. On test day, you’re so focused on your work that you can’t even bring yourself to look at Wendy in fear of all your work together going to waste or seeing her be disappointed. But her quick squeeze of your hand as she passes by while handing out the tests lets you know that she’s rooting for you. She doesn’t mention the last problem she wrote down for you on that Friday. You don’t mention it either because you forgot.

It feels like time flies by so quickly, and you practically run up to the front desk to turn in your test. You’re unsure how to feel about it and wring your hands nervously. Wendy gives you a thumbs up with a determined look while mouthing “You did it. You made it through.” The gleam in her eyes sets your heart fluttering with all the confidence she has in you. It makes you disappointed that soon the two of you would part ways just like you had after the brief interaction during your Romeo and Juliet reading. However, Wendy makes sure to continuously check in with you about the material of the test to see what you thought of it. 

The day you get your test back, Wendy looks just as nervous as you. It’s been only two days since the test, and your teacher has graded the test faster than normal. You look at Wendy while your hands are balled up into fists on the top of your desk. She’s biting her lip and you can she her feet are kicking at the floor in anticipation. It looks like she’s running while sitting, and you wish you could do just that. Run. The teacher has her pass the tests back while they begin writing up some commonly missed questions. Before they could, they call for Wendy’s attention right before she reached your row of desks.

“Wendy, could you pass me one of the tests? I can’t find my answer key.” She nods and immediately hands one of the tests over. Once she’s finished passing out the tests you realize whose test is up with the teacher. Ah, how fickle fate seems to be with you. Wendy realizes that she’s passed your test up when she looks over at you and your anxious form trying your best to peer at the front of the paper by the board. She hadn’t seen your score either, which makes her just as anxious as you. From where you were, you couldn’t figure out what red marks meant what on your test.

The rest of the period was spent with you writing down all the right answers on your test just in case you got something wrong and you could figure out why, hopefully with Wendy’s help. Throughout the class, the two of you had been communicating with nervous looks while trying to put each other at ease at the same time. It didn’t work for both of you since you had started biting your nails and she was picking at threads of her sweater. You absolutely hate that the test review spent the entire period. Especially the fact that the teacher asked to see you when the class ended. Dread fills you when you hear the bell ring. Your footsteps seem heavier as you walk up to the front desk.

Wendy wanted to hang back, she really did, but she knew that it’d be better to respect your privacy and head out with the students. She waits for you to come out and you find her tapping her foot to a song in the middle of the hall. The second you spot her you squeal and throw your arms around her.

“Oh my gosh, Wendy!”

“What’d you get? How did you do? Are you okay? I’m so nervous, I didn’t even know it was your test!”

You shake your head and show her the test. You got nearly full marks, some rounding errors or accidentally using the wrong amount of sigfigs cost you a couple points, but not enough to bring it lower than an A.

“I can’t believe you practically saved my grade!” You’re jumping now and she’s still in your arms. It’s not a problem since she’s also jumping along with you with a large smile on her face. You pull away with a frown.

“What’s wrong now? Did your grade not rise enough to where you thought it was?” There’s panic in her voice and you’re quick to deny her question, but a pout remains on your lips.

“I won’t get to hang out with you anymore since I won’t need any more tutoring...” Wendy pauses for a second and looks as if she’s trying to find something in your eyes.

“... Did you see the last problem I gave you on Friday?” You think back on it and return her questioning gaze.

“You gave me basic addition. Are you telling me I need to work on what I learned in elementary school?” She shakes her head quickly and asks if you still have the paper, to which you nod your head since you haven’t cleaned your binder yet. She has you take it out and you’re about to tell her you’re not that bad at math until you see the problem she wrote.

Underneath the 2+2, 4+4, 3+7, and 1+9...

You + Me = ?

You look up at her and she smiles, but it’s wavering. She’s nervous about your reaction, but she’s somewhat relieved. She thought you had seen it and decided to ignore it, thinking she was weird or that you were trying not to be mean by rejecting that.

“What... Wendy, does this mean what I think it does?” Wendy puts on an air of fake confidence and takes a pencil out.

“Well, it’s simple really. You, that’s you, plus me, Wendy, equals...” She trails off and begins to write on the paper. A little drawing of a heart takes place at the end of the equation and you can only look at her in shock. She decides that it’s now or never to explain what it meant. “I was just... too nervous to approach you since I didn’t want to scare you away thinking I was there to bug you about getting help. I thought you were really cute at the beginning of the year, and after I finally got to talk to you I started developing a crush... I really worked the courage up to write that.”

You look back down at the heart and can’t help but smile at her. Wendy smiles hesitantly in confusion. 

“You know, since it took me that long to solve such a simple problem... I think you’ll have to continue tutoring me. Why don’t we set up another study date to work on it!” 

[kickingitwithkirk]

Beyond Seduction: pt III

Summary: Isobella Tennant is a woman wanting her independence but society dictates she must conform to their ways. Sam Winchester is the most sought after artist in London and one of its most notorious rakes. He also has a secret he has kept hidden for years. They come together with their own agendas and find something more than either expected.

Pairing: Artist!Sam Winchester x Isobella Tennant

Word Count: 2195

Warnings: Cursing, sexual innuendo, self degradation

A/N: Sam’s finding it harder to keep his thoughts and hands to himself. More slow burn in this part.

PART II

Mobile Masterlist

*no beta, all mistakes are mine

PART III

“Turn around slowly,”

Sam felt his breath catch as the lighting behind her turned his white shirt translucent and could see her figure.

Izzy was lean; her shoulders a gentle swoop, a waist needing no corset to achieve its dip, Sam was sure his large hands would overlap encircling it, narrow hips curved enough to give them a feminine shape, incredible legs with well defined calves peeking out from under the end of silk drawers. He could see between her thighs, Sam personally preferred them plumper, especially when he was lying in between them.

She slowly turned revealing her stomach did possess a slight feminine softness and far from his handful breasts perched high upon her chest needing no assistance to remain pert. Izzy was not malnourished like Sam first supposed but long and lean built.

As she turned her back to him, Sam drew in his lower lip and bit down to stop any noise as he pressed his palm against his swollen cock trying to find some relief.

His restraint was close to breaking, something about this woman made every fiber of his being want to take her apart, have her begging him for release but at the same time wanting to protect her from his own lasciviousness. He wanted her to freely give in and use him to discover her own hedonistic desires.

As she finished turning Sam quickly composed himself, shifting the sketch pad over his lap to cover his predicament. “Stand facing me I want to do a couple more and we’ll call it a night, I’m sure you must be getting tired.”

***

Izzy sat up with a start unsure what had awoken her and immediately regretted it. She burrowed back under the blanket remembering the events of yesterday.

After Sam had bid her goodnight at the second floor stairwell she took the pitcher to the WC happy to find there was still some warm water left in the pipes. She washed up quickly in the cool room deciding to not mess with the fire. Now she regretted it, it was freezing.

Wrapping the blanket around herself she went to the small round window and looked out at the light snow that had fallen sometime during the night.

Shivering she moved over to the pot bellied stove and opened the small door. She had seen the maids do this plenty of time so she picked up the small coal shovel and dumped coal into it. Finding paper starters she inserted a few in between the coal and lit a match to ignite the paper. The stove started smoking up the room as she had forgotten to open the flue.

Carefully reaching in she felt around for the handle, found it and pulled. It was stuck. She tried again, “Come on you bugger!” Izzy snapped as her door slammed open startling her. She landed on her bum at Sam’s shouting about burning the house down.

Hurrying over he knelt down and gripped the handle jerking it open, the smoke sucking upwards starting to clear the room.

Sam grabbed her arm roughly jerking her up onto her knees, “Don’t you have enough sense to open the fucking flue before starting a fire!”

“I tried to open it but the son of a bitch was stuck! How dare you charge in here and roughhouse me you bastard!” Izzy yelled back and shoved Sam hard enough he ended up on his arse.

They glared at each other breathing hard for different reasons. Sam was awoken to the smell of smoke triggering the worst memory of his life and in his panic lost his temper out of fear.

Izzy, despite the beliefs about redheads, rarely lost her temper but Sam's forceful manhandling had triggered strange sensations she was unsure of and it scared the hell out of her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lose my temper but you come barreling in yelling and putting your hands on me, that isn’t something I’m accustomed to.”

Sam grimiest, “I shouldn’t have grabbed you, I apologize. And this is my fault, I forgot the flue sticks sometimes. Here, let me show you how to work it.”

Sam watched Izzy scoot over in front of the stove awaiting his instruction. There was one problem; he couldn’t reach in and still have room around his arm for her to see what he did. He moved behind her and got on his knees trapping her legs between his. “What are…”

“You wouldn’t be able to see what I’m doing so I’ll guide you on how to work it.” Sam informed her as he took her hand and inserted them into the stoves opening.

“Feel for the handle,” she wrapped her fingers around the lever as his fingers covered hers, “good. Now when you tug it, twist your wrist at the same time,” Sam instructs. As their arms slid back she pressed against his chest, his naked chest.

Izzy became intimately aware of his substantial member as she was only in her undergarments and Sam, having rushed out of his room, in only his sleep attire.

While most Englishmen wore knee length sleep shirts Sam preferred the pajama style pants from India that hide absolutely nothing when it came to his lower physique.

“I believe I have the technique down on how to work it.”

Her phrasing caused Sam’s member to stiffen more. He slowly rocked his hips in a subtle manner enjoying the friction from the silken material and heat of her.

Sam placed his lips near her ear, “Not yet but you will soon.”

***

Sam yawned as the carriage traveled over London’s busy cobblestone streets. He turned to Izzy finding her starting out the window, wondering what she was thinking. Neither mentioned the incident in her room when they meet in his studio after lunch yesterday. Sam thought back on their slightly skewed conversation.

***

Izzy sat there fidgeting again.

“Will you sit still?”

“I’m bored, not used to just sitting doing nothing. Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“I don’t care.” she cocked her head, “Where are you from originally? I can’t quite place your accent.”

“North.”

“North what?”

“Just north, straighten your head up.”

“Is your family still there?”

“Yes and no.”

“Which is it?”

“...”

“What do they do?”

“Work on an estate.”

“Which one?”

“...”

“Are you an only child?”

“Yes and no.”

“Oldest, middle or youngest?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you being obsequious?”

“Why are you being nosy?”

Izzy blows a raspberry at him.

“That was rude.”

“Then answer my questions.”

“I would if you asked something interesting.”

She squints slightly, “How old are you?”

“Twenty nine.”

She snorted, “practically decrepit.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Practicality baggage yourself.”

Izzy smiled, making Sam catch his breath. It did nothing to improve her looks but was the most guileless one he’d ever seen; he couldn’t help but laugh. She slumped forward resting her forearms on crossed legs studying him.

“When did you see your first nude female?”

“I was twelve.”

“Who was she?”

“Chambermaid. I caught her while washing up.”

“Is that when you decided to become a painter?”

The sketchbook slipped on Sam’s knee as he jerked his head up in surprise. “You think I do this so I can freely ogle naked women?”

“You wouldn’t be the first depraved man that used a legitimate profession for it.”

Depraved. That word stuck in Sam’s mind the rest of the day. Yes, he had done many things in his life that society would consider deprived but to him, it felt natural.

He had stayed up looking at his sketches of her pondering how he would paint her. She didn’t fit most of the classics, her looks were too generic and completely unique at the same time when inspiration finally struck.

***

The carriage stopped in front of a semi detached house in a quiet street. Sam led them to a side entrance. As he rang the bell, Izzy looked at the placard: Madame de Merteuil- Seamstress.

The door opens revealing an older woman. She greeted Sam in heavily accented English, ushering them into her well appointed home. They conversed briefly before Izzy was led into another room.

A younger assistant joined them. Izzy removed her orange dress and Madame de Merteuil personally took her measurements, tutting under her breath, just like her mother's personal seamstress, who only went by Madame, always did at her lack of figure.

The assistant had to bring many swatches of cloth to test against her skin tone, the unflattering comments in French never stopped.

Izzy chose a couple of safe, simple styles and a few undergarments in silk, she couldn’t stand scratchy wool ones, making the seamstress sniff but had them brought out to Sam for approval. She returned telling her they were done.

Sam was flipping through a dress pattern book when Izzy came out. “I hope I didn’t select too many things.” He looked at her curiously, “I thought you would have chosen more than you did.” Izzy shrugged, “I don’t need much.”

Sam was surprised when Madame de Merteuil showed him what had been selected. The women he had brought here previously generously spent his coin but outside of the silk undergarments, which made him wonder if the Duke had given her the ones he had seen her in, Izzy had chosen the simplest everyday garments the seamstress produced.

“Is there anything else needed, Monsieur Winchester?”

Sam looked at Madame de Merteuil, “Yes, do you still have any that dark green left? I’d like it for a coat.”

“Oui, that material would compliment her well.”

“She’ll need an evening gown, that purple silk you showed me, you know what style I like.”

The seamstress bid them goodby. After they climbed into the carriage Izzy turned to Sam. “Why…”

“You are in need of a coat.” He said, “And an evening gown?” Sam shrugged, “I get invited to many events and I never go alone.”

Their last stop was to the pharmacists for personal toiletries and other sundry items. Sam made a face putting back the soaps and shampoo she had selected and chose some far more luxurious crafted items.

Izzy mentally frowned, she had picked the ones she had always used that were moderately fragranced, she didn't like the heavy, cloying scents many favored to hide the strong, unpleasant odors that came with living in London.

Well, if it was what he liked she would have to use them.

***

Izzy walked into the studio as Sam was finishing adjusting a side saddle on a wooden horse, the type workmen used, not the kind children rode.

He smiled at her confused expression, “I’ve decided on the composition for the picture,” he informed her as she started stepping up on the platform, “you will be Lady Godiva...” Izzy’s foot missed the edge and she banged her knee against it.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? She is considered one of the most beautiful women of all times! Mud puddles get more looks th…”

Sam was off the platform grabbing Izzy’s chin between his long fingers forcing her to stop talking and look up at him. He could feel her swallow hard at his thunderous expression.

“As long as you're in my home you are to never say another disparaging comment about your looks! Blink once if you understand me,” she did, “I don’t know who filled your head with that nonsensical claptrap but you have got to stop thinking that way.”

Sam let go of her chin and sat down speaking in a gentler tone, “Let me see your knee, make sure you didn’t injure yourself.” He picked her foot up and placed it on the edge of the platform lifting her skirt up to lay over her thigh and pushed her drawers up feeling around the joint. Her knee had a red line across it but seemed uninjured otherwise.

“Hmmm, you’ll have a bruise, I’ll have Mrs. Mills make a compress for it later. Now, as I was saying, you will be Lady Godiva, I need to sketch you several different compositions before starting the actual portrait so you’ll need to stop wearing my shirt.”

Sam had allowed her to continue wearing it with her drawers but now he needed to actually see her form unobstructed. “You can keep your drawers on for a bit longer but at some point you will lose them too.” Izzy bit her lip in uncertainty.

“Look, if you're too much of a mewling quim, you can leave right now.” Sam stood up irritated, it wasn’t like she had never been naked in front of a man before.

If there was one thing that made Isobella Tennant irate it was to insinuate she was a coward, no one ever got away with it.

With a defiant expression Izzy stared directly into Sam’s eyes before removing her dress and pulled the chemise over her head. She held it up and dramatically released it from her hand. She then untied her drawers letting them pool around her feet before kicking them away.

Turning her back on Sam, she stepped up onto the platform and mounted the saddle.

“Do you want it up or down?”

Forevers: @donnaintx

[kristallioness]

2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019

*arrives a month late*... Happy 2021 to all of you, my dear followers! *raises a glass* It seems that my tendency to finish my artwork or personal posts on time has only gotten worse over time (I blame work *lol*). Oh well, better late than never, since there are things I would still like to take with me from this extraordinary year of 2020.

It is cringeworthy that I have two huge red X-s this year. But after I'd put these puzzle pieces together, I remembered far too well what was going on in my (work) life at the time, so it's completely understandable why I didn't have the time nor the energy to draw at all during those two months.

What were those typical statistics that I wrote about again to compare the years? *goes to read last year's post*.. Oh, right! In 2020, I managed to finish 3 full digital drawings (from the months of April, July and December) as well as work on several sketches. I wrote 28,154 words worth of fanfiction (oohh, that's a lot better than previous year), plus 3,126 words in English (I dare say I wrote an equal amount in Estonian) for the prompts I got during UYLD (making the total 31,280 words, which is quite impressive!).

I finished reading the 1st Kyoshi novel in the evening of the 20th and slightly past midnight on the 21st December (barely before the holidays, but I set this goal for myself and I did it!). Am already looking forward to starting with the 2nd part some time this year. Besides that, I ordered and received all the other new Avatar books that came out (3rd part of "Ruins of the Empire", "Katara and the Pirate's Silver", "Legacy of the Fire Nation") as well as BOTH Avatar series DVD sets (I still can't believe I found these on sale on some random online store in Estonia, but these are now among my most prized possessions!).

I finally started my Avatar rewatch last January, but merely got to the Ba Sing Se episodes in Book 2 (I need to continue with "The Earth King") and now it's been 5 YEARS since I last saw Korra. Reading through my journal personal posts from last year, I know far too well that it's not about rushing through it as fast as possible. Instead, I should enjoy the ride and continue watching the episodes when I'm well rested and in the right mood. That way I'll end up feeling much more at peace.

As for the entire year as a whole? I don't think anyone in this world of ours was prepared for the way this decade would begin - with an uncontrollable pandemic, the virus of which is randomly attacking and threatening to wipe out the weakest amongst us. If any of you (or even if you know someone who) have lost a loved one to this plague, there is not much else I can offer but my sincerest condolences! Me, my family, friends and colleagues seem to have managed to avoid catching it so far. *spits 3 x over her shoulder*

I had such high hopes for this year in so many ways. Event-wise I was looking forward to watching the Eurovision Song Contest in May (where Uku Suviste was supposed to represent Estonia for the 1st time ever after so many unfortunate failures to get selected as the winner of our local competition), the European Football Championships in June (asking my colleagues which countries they support, perhaps make fun bets / guesses with them to see whose team would win the matches), the Tokyo Olympic Games in July-August, the President of Estonia (Mrs. Kersti Kaljulaid) coming to visit my hometown to celebrate our Victory Day by taking part in the parade together with the Defence Forces (after 15 years *sigh*)...

I will always remember my last big event, which took place when life used to be "normal", so to say. It was the 102nd anniversary of Estonia on the 24th of February, when I took part of all the most important celebrations in Tallinn on our Independence Day, FULL-TIME (whenever I scroll through my Facebook timeline, I see the photos I uploaded of that day, my heart melts and I smile fondly). But the day after that.. utter hell broke loose. We had our first infected person in the country.

I will also remember the last day I went to work in "normal" conditions. Friday, the 13th of March (typically my lucky day-number combination): I missed the tram I wanted to get on in the morning, at work my team received great news that one of our colleague's family had grown bigger by a new tiny member the day before, we had our last team lunch together, we discussed the safety measures that we should take and joked about what might happen next week, I took the bus home instead of the tram (as the tram's route came from the airport and that place was considered to be more dangerous and with a higher risk of catching this virus).. It was another 2.5 weeks later by then (since the 25th of February) - Estonia (along with the rest of Europe) went into full lockdown.

The beginning was frightening and people were on edge, nobody really knew what to do nor what was gonna happen next. But in time, things began to shake into place and everybody developed a comfortable routine for remote work, including figuring out how to get everyday things done (such as grocery shopping). I found solace in taking photographs of various beautiful bird species, who began to fly around and serenaded me during spring, visiting the trees around my "nest" i.e. rented apartment (with a pair of them ACTUALLY building a nest in the chestnut tree right beside my window, thus turning me into a protective godmother of their chicks).

To be honest, I was awestruck by the positive / surprising aftermath of this lockdown: how the world / environment began to heal itself from the pollution that was normally caused by humans. I was taken aback by how dead silent our usually loud capital became in my neighbourhood (I could only hear trams passing by my house according to their schedules, practically no cars whatsoever, streets were empty of people.. absolute silence).

By May-June, things started to look up in Estonia (as well as the rest of Europe) and people were allowed to start travelling / moving around more freely. During my vacation in July, I managed to go to my last (open air) event (for the rest of the year) under these new "corona" conditions and ended up having a blast at the Open Farm Days in my home county for the first time.

Our country's shining moment came during the first week of September, when we hosted the first ever Rally Estonia of the World Rally Championship (WRC), where our very own Ott Tänak and Martin Järveoja won. The event was so well organized and successful that nobody caught the virus nor did the spectators / participants spread it to others, which surely must've helped in ensuring us a spot in the WRC calendar for 2021 as well.

The remainder of the year was rather dull, with the exception of the US Presidential elections in November, when we were all holding our breaths that Joe Biden would win (congratulations, my American friends!). This eventually led to the painful downfall of THE WORST government the Republic of Estonia has ever had, and to the rise of our first female Prime Minister, Kaja Kallas (both happening in January 2021, I couldn't believe it all spiralled so soon, ha-ha!).

Anyways, during the last 4 months, work was very stressful and driving me nuts, so badly that when I eventually went on vacation before Christmas, I had a slight anxiety disorder that wouldn't let me relax for several days (luckily it went away just as quickly once I began to take it easy and managed to get some proper rest / sleep).

In hindsight, I kind of get this weird feeling as if I saw this whole thing coming, given how actively I was living my life throughout 2019. My final year of the 2010's was so full of important events and personal achievements. It's almost as if something mysterious inside was driving me, telling me to visit all the places and do all the things I wanted to do, cause I wouldn't have this sort of a chance again for a very long time.

This must be the main reason why I am thankful for 2020 for going the way it did. Sure, I'm disappointed that a lot of events were cancelled, that so many people have had to leave this world so soon due to this unpredictable disease.. But I think there are so many lessons to take from what came out of all of this. I believe the world needed some sort of a restart or break, given in what direction we were headed (politically, economically, environmentally, socially etc.). I'm just sorry it's had to come with such a high price of innocent lives.

I have even higher hopes for 2021, given how amazingly January has already passed for me and my country, and what is to come in my hometown in February. Let's take the lessons learned from 2020 with us and keep on heading back towards the "normal" lifestyle we used to know. Except this time, let's improve our ways, put all the hatred behind us, be more considerate, keep a distance, stay safe, but still try to make the world a better place for everyone. Thank you so much for reading, for remaining by my side, and for your support and love throughout the years, my friends! I hope to see you all alive and healthy at the end of the white metal ox year of 2021! *virtual hugs*

[mater-development]

Nōtan (濃淡) Tutorial 💕

Here’s a little study I did. The process I use is pretty simple. I try not to focus on making the best drawing in one try. Instead what I do is work my way up to the things I want by starting with the simplest study I can do, which is usually a gestural notan sketch.

A lot of the background I just leave as abstract shapes. Personally, I don’t think there’s much value in trying to draw trees and foliage precisely, unless they’re the focal point or essential for establishing content/narrative.

What is Nōtan (濃淡)?

Traditionally, Notan refers to Japanese artwork that is created using the extremes of black and white. As a method of drawing, the idea is that you don’t focus on rendering. Instead you just focus on defining the main value changes.  In my study I’m bending the rules a bit by adding in greys, but I try to not go beyond 3 values:

Black

White

Grey ( 20%, or 50%, or 75%)

Handling Grays Tones:

It looks like i’ve used more than 1 gray because some of the brushes I use have dithered edges. Also, I do generally go back and use a blender brush to soften edges, which results in some mixing. But I my actual brush never uses more than 1 grey tone in a drawing usually.

My opacity is always set to 100%, but if I want to get softer tones I will generally reduce the flow & then pass over the mark with a mixing brush. I try to keep it to 1 swipe, just so it doesn’t look too digital.

Why do Nōtan (濃淡) drawings?

I highly recommend this way of drawing if you want your artwork to feel more structured. It’s really difficult to get used to because it forces you to make decisions about how to resolve values. Its much easier if you choose reference that has extreme lighting. If you’re more advanced, there’s great value in working with reference that has a lot of middle-tones, because it helps you to understand when to push things towards light/dark. Compressing grey tones into black & white makes artwork have more “pop”. Drawing/Painting is about creating various contrast relationships.

Value contrast is the most important form of contrast in an image. If you have good value contrast, color is very forgiving.

I try not to rush myself with these. I just worked on it a little bit everyday during my lunch break. It seems like I do them fast, but I’m very slow and intentional with my mark making.

I’m not sure if it shows in my drawings, but my long term goal as an artist is to be as efficient as possible with my mark making.

BTW, I have time-lapse videos of this and my other drawings on Instagram. (Below)

————————————>

Lets Connect: + YouTube:  https://tinyurl.com/mzzvcav + Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/minni.goat/ + Web Store: https://jclarkworks.com/ + Blog: https://mael-strm.com/

[comicteaparty]

March 28th-April 3rd, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble   chat that occurred from March 28th, 2020 to April 3rd, 2020.  The chat focused on the following question:

How many hours do you work on your comic per week, and how do you manager to balance that with other responsibilities?

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

heheh So we are.. cheating a bit Both me and my coworker are unemployed, and is working on hour comic, like was it a full time job. It is our passion project, and dream that we can work and live of makeing comics. In Denmark you can apply for grants from the government, but you need to have releashed a book before that is possible. We are useing the comic, to show potentional clients in the future what we can do. For now we are working on it from 09:00-17:00 ish (with a long lunch break) while applying for other kinds of grants, and also does all the things we are supposed to to get our unemplyment money, and searching for jobs, and freelance gigs, gathering the courage to start our own small company (not right now though) and yeaah time will tell

carcarchu

@Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS that doesn't sound like cheating to me? more like using the tools at your disposal to turn your passion into a viable career

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

hehe it feels a little like cheating! there are some debates about if it is okay or not, but we think that strengthening our skills is a good use of our time

eli [a winged tale]

Haha also not cheating! It’s great you’re using the time to chase the dream I’m curious what’s your breakdown for those time working on the comic? As for me, usually 1-2 hours a day with a bit more on the weekend if time permits. These days with the quarantine it’s about 2-3 h a day

DanitheCarutor

Since I'm unemployed until who knows when I've been working on my comic between 40-50 hours a week about 6 to 7 days a week... most weeks. Some days, like update day or chore day, I hardly work on the comic or don't work on it at all. Admittedly I'm not the best at balancing drawing with other responsibilities, sometimes I get so into it that I forget about daily house chores, other weeks I do the opposite and only do house chores which makes me totally behind of comic stuff. I can't seem to find a good middle ground, it always turns into completely focusing on one or the other.

eli [a winged tale]

Yeah when I get in the zone, time flies and life gets put to the wayside

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

So I have no school or work, so the webcomic has become almost a fulltime project for me

I average about 10 hours per day working on it, not counting on chores and exercise

Another thing I worry about is the possibility of carpal tunnel syndrome, which is why I've been relentless with exercise, too

I guess it's just a combination of relentless reminders and also sheer willpower that gets me to do other responsibilities haha

@eli [a winged tale] also I know that feeling

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

So since my school had to cancel, I have to be more responsible for my online course. Sometimes I give myself 2 days off each week to work more into my upcoming webcomic but I have to switch my mind for school work, online classes. Also extra time for food. I need to get back into exercise or I feel exhausted more easily. I keep a wall schedule so that I make it a routine to write what I'll do every 3 or 5 days, to keep my active brain reminded(edited)

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I spent the majority of last year (fun)employed (partially by choice, partially not! my previous job let me go rather unceremoniously... and I needed a hiatus anyway... so it worked out) so I poured a lot more hours into that chapter of Phantomarine than I usually did. I worked on it almost every day - at least for a couple of hours, but sometimes up to a full eight-hour day. That number has dipped tremendously since I’ve gone back to work, but I’m spreading the same amount of time out in a broader way. I’m trying to get a good buffer during my hiatus, so I can work and draw in a healthy balance. I don’t have crazy overtime at my current job like I did at my last one, so that’s already a comfort. I’m confident I’ll be able to hit a good stride once the comic returns in June (edited)

eli [a winged tale]

Can’t wait Lady!!

Feather J. Fern

Two part time jobs, and school killed my comic, but I been working on getting one panel done a day, which is around 30minutes to an hour if possible.

eli [a winged tale]

My routine used to be rendering on the commute but now just once in am and once pm until this limbo time is clarified

That’s awesome Feather! It’s so rewarding when everything comes together after putting effort everyday

Feather J. Fern

Once school is done in two more weeks I will be more free to do things so I hope to get maybe two panels done in a day XD

Online school, stupid quarantine

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Due to the pandemic im mostly off school and my part time job so i spend like 4-5 hours on my comic per day. Still would like try to get a page done per day but lmao digital painting is slowwww

eli [a winged tale]

What’s everyone’s tips for breaks/stretches/balance? I feel like I certainly need to revisit these to avoid burnout and continue feeling motivated!

Feather J. Fern

Actually there was a cool manga artist who's tip was literally he only worked working hours. His mornings are free and since manga was his job, he worked form 12-6, giving him 2 hours to do other work he needs to get done, and takes morning walks and stuff.

Another person I know had "No working weekends" as a thing becuase they are a freelancer.

I personally have try to make sure I ahve a routine, and actually, stretch before drawing.

Streetch before, during a break, and then after, to keep that body nice and warmed up

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Health-wise there's this hing for your : every 20 minutes, look at something 20 feet away for 20 seconds. I'm not good at following this, but when I do it, it helps a lot.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Despite the current pandemic, my work-life hasn't changed much (unless you count stress getting in the way). I am currently "unemployed," but I do consider comicking my full-time job. I am also not very good at balancing work and life. Something's always gotta give. Last year, I worked at a job that basically ruined my ability to work on my comic. I worked 30-40 hours typically, ruined my sleep schedule, took work home sometimes, and was constantly exhausted. This is what resulted in my year and a half long hiatus, and it's what drove me to work like hell on my comic when I quit. Now (when I'm in the groove and not suffering from art block), I typically spend 60-70 hours on my comic and get 2-3 pages done: - 30 hours sketching (I know, ridiculous) - 5 hours filling in base colors - 20-25 hours painting - 5 hours adding text, speech bubbles, sfx, and finishing touches - 1-2 hours formatting for Webtoon I also spend some time throughout the week typing up the script, doing concept art for things coming in the future of the comic, and preparing for conventions, but I can't tell you exactly how much time.

eli [a winged tale]

Thanks for the breakdown! I’m always keen to learn from everyone and seeing how the workflow is like for different people

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

oh don't forget to do wrist stretches!

eli [a winged tale]

Ahh formatting time is always so tedious for me!

Yes wrist exercises! Any recommendations?

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

hmmm well the easiest one is literally just shaking it out

like every hour

and I also like to hold my arm out parallel, point my fingers up and using my other hand to pull the fingers back so i'm stretching the wrist

then I point the fingers down and pull on the fingers until my wrist is stretching

eli [a winged tale]

Awesome. Will be adopting those!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I'm pretty fast. 2-6 hours per page, depending on how detailed it is. Average of 3-4. I could probably do 2 pages/ week easily enough, but don't want to do more than that. I'm the kind of person who always needs to be doing a million different things. I need to leave time for my other hobbies and my paintings and my academics and extracurriculars. Otherwise I'd get burnt out doing one thing only

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

@eli [a winged tale] So since it is both me and @Q (Wayfinders: Off Course) working, we start with working on a rough each, our goal is one step (so rough, ink, color) for two pages pr day, pr person. So in a weak the goal is four finished pages a week, and then we upload 3 pages per week. So it is divided that in the morning we start at 09:00 in the morning, maybe checking mail, being practical or whatever. Then we work until 12:00 were we eat lunch, go for a long nice walk and then we go back to work between 13:00 and 14:00 ish and then work until 17:00 when we begin to prepare dinner. Then of course breaks inbetween

Q (Wayfinders: Off Course)

It’s pretty wild to be able to dedicate your entire day to comics like that

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

damn you all work fast

do you guys have any tips on how to work on a webcomic faster?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Lol, I wish!

Still looking for those magical secrets

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

@shadowhood (SunnyxRain) You know the 80-20 rule? You can get 80% of the result with 20% of the effort? My comic is very messy if you zoom in. I don't spend time making sure the linework or the coloring is perfectly clean. Also, I'm pretty fast at drawing figures. I used to practice figure drawing a lot by rushing to draw strangers irl before they moved, or by drawing a bunch of fast figures from the free figure drawing model websites online. I've also taken a figure drawing course (didn't even have to pay because it was part of my university! Even if you don't have that option you can probably find free life drawing sessions on Meetup or similar!) which really helped me streamline my process for drawing people

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Oh I see! Yes, I used to take life drawing classes too! And your response makes me feel a lot better

I tend to be a bit messy with inking, and since i'm a perfectionist a lot of my time is wasted on editing/clean up

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I've seen cronaj draw, and while I think the results look excellent, I think her method is a kind of inefficient. She draws like a printer, nearly finishing one detailed body part before moving on the the next. I think maybe if she drew in a more classical way, going from a gesture drawing to progressively more detailed, it might help her be faster and her poses more cohesive and dynamic. Maybe working on 1 or 5 min figures would help? Practicing things like this?

eli [a winged tale]

Yeah I try to do figure practices for efficiency

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

I heard that there are some online life drawing vids you can follow too

but what are your experiences with online life drawing vids versus the real thing

like is there a real difference?

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

found some of my old 1 minutes

To me there's not too much difference

I've heard some people say that life drawing is either way easier or way harder though. Because of your depth perception when looking at a real person

But the bruises on my legs can attest to my horrid depth perception haha. That might be why I don't notice a difference

Actually those previous sketches might be 30 seconds? I don't remember

I would recommend you try both but right now we pretty much only have the online option haha

eli [a winged tale]

Yeah I’ve done both and I think irl creates complexity with depth and the interactions with others etc is helpful but online is my go to for flexibility

I think having a process streamlined will make things more efficient. The downside is that it might feel tedious and I do switch it up from time to time for variety

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Might feel uncomfortable but that's how you know you're improving

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

There is a TON of difference for me. I HAVE to look at a physical model in front of me.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Can't get better if you always do the same things

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

This is what my brain does.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I wonder- could drawing yourself in a mirror be a decent substitute?

If youre lucky you might also be able to ask an SO or roommate to model for you. Should probably pay them back by cooking for them or something though

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Brain: sees a real model in front of me Brain: translates 3D to 2D, result: drawing Brain: sees a photo/video of a model Brain: SHIT. That's supposed to be 3D, isn't it? Brain: Translates 2D to 3D (basically re-constructing it in my head, or attempting to re-construct) so that it can translate it back to 2D Brain: BSOD

There's some online resources out there that have "3D" photos... you know, two near-identical images side by side, so if you look at it cross-eyed, it becomes 3D?

But I can't do those because I get a headache X'D

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Just thinking about drawing from that makes me dizzy

eli [a winged tale]

Oh interesting!

Yeah maybe looking out the window to draw people would be the way to go...

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

But maybe figure drawing in VR exists?

eli [a winged tale]

Balcony figure drawings

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I live on the top floor so those are going to be some very small figures

eli [a winged tale]

For ants

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Once this coronavirus thing is over, there's lots of ways you can do gesture drawings from just random people -- bus stops, cafes, museums (I have not done this, but people who have done this report this is really good because others assume you're drawing the artworks. XD)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I've done this a lot

Sometimes I've even shown people drawing of themselves if they've turned out particularly nice

They've always taken it well

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

I like drawing my professors because they use hand gestures a lot when they talk

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Airport was REALLY good for finding people stuck in one pose indefinitely

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

they alwayas laugh when I show them

eli [a winged tale]

Shadow omg I do that too

Draws classmates

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

yeah the only issue i have with drawing classmates

is that they're always doing the "i'm using my phone" pose

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Become the master of drawing people on their phones

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Maybe try drawing children on the playground?

This works better if you're a woman

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

oh thank jesus

I also like going to the zoo or the museum

or the aquarium if i'm feeling adventurous

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I am a University student so I also have some pretty interestng drawings of people asleep in weird poses

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I really need to start going to weekly figure drawing sessions once this is over (there's one here... 20 min drive... 8AM Saturdays )

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

ditto or just go to the park and draw

and @Eightfish (Puppeteer) I've had some.....weird poses from all my profs

one guy was incredibly hard to draw; he was VERY enthusiastic about showing us knife skills

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

The parks here are too spacious, to a degree where it's weird to get close enough to people

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Bring binoculars

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Don't worry ma'am I'm an artist

nothing sketchy

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

(except my sketch)

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

A+ pun right there

another place to go for figure drawing

theaters

like.....opera/plays

I once tried drawing the men dancing in the Newsies musical

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Tried that once, but it took me out of the performance

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

same i was dazzled by dancing men

aaaaand then i abandoned sketching at all when they started throwing newspaper strips into the audience

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

But they were giving you free paper!

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

THEY WERE

i'll take what i can get

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) While I agree that my method of drawing is "inefficient," I do not draw like a printer. There are videos of people drawing like a printer and it's not what I'm doing. I have done gesture drawing before, but it always looked incredibly abstract, and not quite like people, which is fine, but not what I'm going for. I treat gesture drawing like a warm-up exercise. It doesn't really do anything for my end result, but gets my drawing muscles stretched out.(edited)

eli [a winged tale]

Gesture drawings are definitely a good warmup!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Perhaps it was an inappropriate analogy. What works for me I guess wouldn't work for everyone. I was trying to offer advice because whenever you talk about how much time you spend on art and you work life balance it's commendable but also dismaying. I hope you find something that works for you in the future

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Oh god.. I sometimes work 6 hours a day. I guess thats like 30 hours a week? Crazy to think about, it's like a full job

Oooh you guys are sharing figure drawings... I swant to show some of mine

Behold

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

My figure drawing usually breaks down into like, medical anatomy study. I feel like I understand body shapes better by including the muscles & bones

carcarchu

ABS the most important figure study

Deo101 [Millennium]

ah figure drawing? I love figure drawing ^^

I do like a lot but this kinda thing is most of it

anyways as for the question at hand, I do a lot of different things for my comics weekly. My millennium pages take me 2-6 hours i would say, but I also have patreon things I need to do so I'd say i spend 10-15 hours on it a week. for my other comic, I spend about 6 hours an update, and it updates every other week. but honestly, all of my free time goes to assorted comics. If i'm not working on school work or chatting with people, I'm working on things for patreon, potential merch, or other comics I want to start sometime.

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Oooh nice poses!!’

Deo101 [Millennium]

thanks!! I have a ton of gesture/figure drawings but these ones are my most recent that I have saved to my computer i think

10 minutes im pretty sure. very good for speeding up

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Those look really nice, good values

Deo101 [Millennium]

thanks ^^ I really hate working in charcoal honestly, it kinda always winds up hurting my body somehow, but its very quick sooooooo

kayotics

My answer for the prompt question has changed a lot since I started quarantine lmao... I used to do about 10 hours of work throughout the week on my comic page (usually after work, I have an office job) but ironically it’s gotten harder while I work from home. I’ve been struggling to find time since I don’t have a separation between work and home now, and putting the boundaries up of “I’m not always available” to coworkers is difficult.

Also on figure studies: they’re a great way to practice speed. I use the concepts of figure drawings all the time.

RebelVampire

@kayotics As someone who always works from home doing remote contract work, I have to say I think this is something a lot of people underestimate about work at home life. In that it's sometimes really difficult to establish boundaries with ppl and make them understand you aren't always available and also aren't gonna work billions of hours of overtime. So I'm sorry to hear that's affecting your comic work.

Shadowmark Productions

I work anywhere from 6-8 hours a day on comic stuff. That’s an average though. Sometimes I slack and need to pull all nighters to make up for it. Yes, I am terrible at time management. They say entrepreneurs are the only people willing to work 80 hours a week for themselves so they do not have to work 40 hours a week for someone else. I guess webcomic creators are the only people willing to work 80+ hours a week so that they can... go to work for someone else afterwards

AntiBunny

4 days of procrastinating, 1 of procrastinating and hating myself, and 2 of actual comic drawing seems to make up my weekly comic making schedule. :p

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I can only imagine how stressed I would be if I forced myself to update weekly

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

This is a hard question to answer because it varies a lot depending on my energy levels. Ideally I’d spend several hours a day on comics, but realistically I draw as much as possible when I have the energy (5+ hours a day for as many days in a row as I can handle it) and then go weeks or months too tired to do comics. On average, barring any long periods of exhaustion or other interruptions from RL, I spend about 20+ hours a week making pages for my comics.

sagaholmgaard

I prefer to work on my comic for about an hour ever morning and maybe 2-3 hours in the evening, that's the ideal routine for me. Right now I sadly have a lot of schoolwork to do (writing my thesis) so i might get less than 30 minutes in the morning and then feel rlly tired in the evening so I dont get as much time then either. but oh well!

I can still work for 4-5 hours on the weekends so I manage ^^(edited)

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

The whole stay-indoors order's currently completely wrecked my pattern, but before that I did between 3-4 hours a day.

Shadowmark Productions

Can’t imagine the stress of a daily or even weekly posting schedule. Hats off.

[reylo-solo]

a secret admirer

(rated G; 3536 words)

A Reylo Valentines AU from a cute prompt left by @nite0wl29 where Ben leaves secret Valentines cards in Rey’s locker! Thanks for the prompt, beautiful! I hope you all enjoy the adorableness! Happy Valentine’s Day, reylos! ❤

Read it on AO3.

10-20-30-40.

The lock opened into her palm with one firm pull. Rey slipped it out of its place and pulled her locker door open.

She was expecting to find nothing unusual inside her locker when she opened it, because it was her locker. No one knew the combination to get inside besides her. What else should she be expecting besides the same, small magnetic calendar that was two years out of date, but which she was keeping for the cute photos of kittens? What else, besides the little Polaroid pictures of her and her friends? Or the drawing she’d done of a horse that she was still quite proud of. Or the overdue library books, which were shamefully stashed away in the back, behind her textbooks and binders.

No, she did not expect to find any surprises when she opened the door. And yet, there was one, taped to the inside of her door so that she couldn’t possibly miss it.

A card, hand-made with fine, recycled stationary, decorated with gold leaf accents. Her name was printed in beautifully flowing calligraphy on the front, the ink a beautiful navy blue colour. She gasped as she saw it, and the fact that someone had been in her locker didn’t even hit her, so struck was she by the simplistic beauty of the thing.

Carefully, she pulled off the tape which secured it to her door and, leaning into her locker a little, opened it inside.

The same flawless lettering greeted her, along with something that completely shocked her: a hand-drawn portrait of herself, done in graphite and charcoal. In the drawing her hair was pulled back into her signature triple-bun style, and particular care and attention had gone into adding each freckle that graced the bridge of her nose and her cheekbones. Her eyes were downcast; her lashes, long and dark, casting a shadow over her cheeks. It looked like she was studying something, but there was a hint of a smile there upon her penciled lips, as though she had heard something amusing a minute ago. Whoever had drawn this had watched her intently for a little while. They had to share a class with her, she thought.

The other half of the card’s interior was dedicated to a brief but lovely message, which began quite eloquently with the opening stanza of Lord Byron’s “She Walks in Beauty”:

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heavy to gaudy day denies.

-         Happy (almost) Valentine’s Day from your secret admirer.

P.S. I hope you like the portrait. Though it can never compare to the real thing.

P.P.S. You should really think about a more challenging lock combination. That was far too easy.

            It took Rey another few minutes before she even began to realize how much her cheeks hurt from smiling. She closed the card and clutched it to her chest. She’d never gotten a Valentine like that before! Or at least, she’d never gotten one that didn’t have a cute bear or cartoon character on it, and those certainly never had romantic poetry included with them.

            “Lord Byron…” she murmured to herself.

            They must be in my English class. We just covered Lord Byron’s work a few days ago…

            But…who was it?

            She spent the next two days trying to puzzle it out on her own. This also meant that she had paid little to no attention in her English class since receiving the mysterious Valentine. The entire time her eyes had been secretly jumping around the room, as though she could catch someone staring at her, and maybe doodling in their notebook at the same time…

            She ruminated the possibility of it being any number of people, but none stood out to her. She even thought about it maybe being her best friend, much to the detriment of her own anxiety, but then she remembered that Finn can’t draw, and he certainly can’t do calligraphy like that. No, it couldn’t have been him.

            It was almost maddening, trying to figure it out. She began to second-guess herself. Maybe the Lord Byron thing had been a fluke. Maybe it was someone in her history class, or math. Maybe it was janitor Bob for all she knew.

            Rey was starting to feel down on her luck when she opened her locker between fourth and fifth period and something fell out, gliding down to land perfectly atop her shoes. She bent down to grab it and her heart skipped a beat.

            Another Valentine! Written on the same paper! Oh, and the writing is the same…

        There was no poem this time; instead she found a personalized message just for her:

            Rey,

Still can’t puzzle it out, can you? That’s okay. I’m not giving you very many hints, am I? Maybe I should change that for you. I’m a male in your English class, if the Byron poem wasn’t a big enough clue. We’ve had lots of classes together over the years, but you’ve probably never noticed me before, not like I’ve noticed you.

I saw you looking for me the other day in class, though. You weren’t very sneaky about it, but I didn’t mind. You looked right at me for the longest second of my life, and I thought maybe…maybe you saw it in me, but you didn’t. It’s a good thing – I’d rather you see who I am outside of class anyway.

        Speaking of, Valentine’s Day is only a week away. Think you can guess who I am by then?

-         Your secret admirer

He had gifted her another portrait. This one was done faster than the other, and he’d left it looking half-finished, but she liked it like that. He’d captured her mid-laugh, with that cheesy smile of hers. He’d even gotten her dimples right. Even though his pencil had spent the briefest of time on this page, he’d created something which Rey thought was even prettier than the real thing.

“Whatcha got there?”

Rey jumped and the Valentine slipped from her hands. She bent fast to pick it up but another hand had caught it before she had a chance. Rose Tico’s eyes widened as they saw the beautiful calligraphy on the front of the card, addressing it to Rey.

“Oh, wow…what is this?” Rose inquired. She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Rey. “You’re already getting Valentines? What am I saying…of course you are, look at you.”

“I-it’s nothing,” Rey excused, trying to grab for the card to no avail. Rose kept twisting away, keeping it just out of Rey’s grasp. “Can you give it back please?”

“Who’s it from?” Rose grinned broadly and opened it up, her eyes hungrily skimming over the message. She gasped. “A secret admirer?!”

“Shh!” Rey demanded, finally swiping the card away from Rose now that she was distracted enough. “Say it a little louder why don’t you, I don’t think everyone heard…”

“I can’t believe you have a secret admirer! That’s so exciting and romantic!”  Rose squealed, in a much quieter tone. “Who do you think it is? And am I mistaken, or does that message sound like you’d already gotten one card from him?”

Rey sighed, looked at her friend, and figured she had not one hope in hell of keeping this secret any longer. Besides, she thought, she could use the help figuring out who the mystery man was. So, she dug around in her schoolbag and produced the first Valentine, allowing Rose to read it, provided she keep it close to her person so no prying eyes could look over her shoulder and see.

“Wow…this is beautiful,” Rose whispered. “That drawing is…wow…”

“I know,” Rey said, swiping the card back and stowing it safely away, along with the other one.

“Who could it be, though? He said he was in our English class…”

“Yeah, I have no clue,” Rey groaned. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I got the first card and I’ve gotten nowhere since.”

“Hmm…well, two minds are better than one. Let’s go grab some lunch and Nancy Drew this shit, shall we?” Rose offered Rey her arm, which Rey happily took.

“Let’s.”

The two settled themselves in a secluded area of the cafeteria, safely away from prying eyes or ears. First, they had to remember all the boys in their English class, which took much longer than they thought it would. Once they’d recalled mostly everyone (there were a few relatively new kids whose names they couldn’t remember, and so they were referred to as ‘boy with really thick glasses’, ‘boy who wears the same jacket everyday’ and so on), they began to break it down individually. This too was a little tougher than they had anticipated, once they eliminated all the boys they knew to be in a relationship. They were left with about ten viable options after that, and they had to go through each one and decide if they fit the bill or not.

Rey eliminated four of them right off the bat, either because she couldn’t stomach the thought of them leaving romantic notes for her, or they truly didn’t seem the type to think romantically, let alone write in beautiful calligraphy and make lovely sketches. Then there were a couple who hadn’t said more than one word to Rey since elementary school.

Suddenly, Rose gasped and made a low ‘ohhh’ sound.

“What?” Rey demanded. “What is it?”

“What if…no, he wouldn’t…or would he…?”

“Spit it out, Rose!”

“What if it’s Ben?”

Rey went still. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise but she didn’t move or speak for a moment. Rose was monitoring her reaction with keen interest.

Ben Solo. Tall, dark, with a boyish grin, he was alluring in the most unique of ways. He had thick raven hair and deep, soulful brown eyes; his strong, broad frame was built for endurance and power. But he hadn’t always looked that good. Rey remembered a young, gangly boy, with messy black hair and a pasty complexion, whose ears stuck out a little, running around the playground during recess with his toy spaceships, playing games with his friends.

It had been that little boy who Rey had opened her crying eyes to when she had fallen off the swing and hit her head in second grade. He’d been standing over her, blocking out the sun, and offering her his hand.

“Hi, are you okay? Do you need me to get the teacher?” he’d asked, and his voice had had a minor lisp, because he was missing two of his front teeth.

Rey had sniffed and wiped away her tears, not caring if the sand and dirt smudged on her cheeks. She remembered feeling flattered as she had taken his hand and allowed him to help her up. She hadn’t wanted a teacher to come over, and so he had offered to sit with her for the remainder of recess, until her tears stopped falling. And so they had sat together by the swings and talked and laughed until the bell rang, and by that time Rey’s head had stopped hurting, and she had long ago stopped crying.

“Ben…?” Rey whispered to Rose after mulling it over for a moment. “No…no, it couldn’t be. I haven’t had a real conversation with him since…middle school, I think.”

“So? He seems like the type to pine over a girl,” Rose argued. “You know, I’m sure there’s a proper gentleman beneath that surly exterior.”

“But he has lots of friends. Some of them are girls, even.”

“Again, I ask: so? He’s single, isn’t he?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Hm, well, I’m just saying. If I had to bet on it being anyone, I’d bet on him.”

Hmm…

*

She didn’t receive another card until Valentine’s Day, and even then she didn’t receive it until the day was almost over and she was cut straight through with anxiety.

During that time between card two and card three, Rey had tried desperately not to convince herself that it was Ben writing them to her, but it was tougher than she anticipated. She’d continuously catch herself absentmindedly referring to her secret admirer as Ben, and then she’d proceed to mentally slap herself for doing so. She hated getting her hopes up; she’d had them crushed too many times in the past.

But she was powerless against the idea that it might be him. The thought of him bent over a desk that looked far too small in comparison, his dark locks falling over his brow and tickling the bridge of his long nose, as he penned her part of a Lord Byron poem and sketched her image just made her feel giddy for some reason. It made the cards even more flattering, and she found herself looking at them repeatedly, reading and re-reading their inscriptions.

She also had found herself watching for Ben, something she hadn’t really done before. She’d constantly be looking past someone’s shoulder, or looking over her own, trying to spot him. Every now and again she’d hear his distinct laugh or his deep, warm voice, and she’d stand up a little straighter and fix her hair.

She hated it.

It felt like he had some kind of control over her. Only he seemed capable of making her palms that clammy. She’d find herself getting annoyed at him from a distance. Who does he think he is? Walking around in his dark wash jeans, with his hair all messed up like that, smiling that goofy smile. What have you done to me, you evil, handsome snake…

One of these times, when she was viciously cursing him in her head, her eyes had actually locked with his across the school courtyard. It had just been for the briefest of moments, but in that time it felt like all the sound was sucked from the world and everything around them stopped moving. Rey’s heartbeat hammered in her ears, steady and loud. There was something there, in the space between them. Something visceral and real and tender.

Or maybe it had just been wishful thinking.

And it was that kind of doubt which had fuelled her panic on Valentine’s Day when she arrived to her locker in the morning, after having practically ran the entire way there, only to find no card inside. And it didn’t help when Rose kept asking after every period of she’d gotten it yet, and Rey kept having to answer with ‘no’.

So when she got to her locker, fully exasperated and confused, at the end of the day as everyone else was scrambling to gather their things and get the hell out of there, and found a letter taped to the outside of her locker, she nearly squealed in excitement.

This one was safely kept in an envelope (which she tore open quite quickly). There was no drawing in this one, only an urgent message:

Meet me in the theatre, right now.

She didn’t even put her books back in her locker. She took them with her as she raced past the swarm of bodies towards the theatre at the back of the school. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears and every person who got in her way came perilously close to having their toes viciously stepped on.

This was it, she thought to herself. The mystery was finally coming to a close. She was going to find out once and for all who had been behind all those letters. She was going to see who her Valentine really was.

She braced herself when she got to the theatre doors, taking a deep breath in before pushing them open. Her nerves almost had her trembling.

She walked into a mostly-dark theatre. The only light was a silvery glow angled at the stage, where an old piano sat. Upon its bench was a person, playing its keys slowly and a little awkwardly. Rey didn’t realize she was holding her breath.

Oh my god. It’s him.

The door closed with an echoing click and the piano music abruptly stopped. Ben stood, all six-foot-two of him, nearly knocking the piano bench over in his haste. His eyes landed on hers, all the way across the theatre, and his hands rubbed themselves upon the thighs of his jeans.

There it was again – that crackling in the space between them, like a field of exhilarating static.

“Hi.”

His voice echoed, too; its deep, nervous lull drew her instantly closer. She walked down the aisle towards him, one step at a time, until she had reached the stairs up to the stage. Once there she paused, staring up at him as if she couldn’t quite believe he was really there – and a part of her certainly couldn’t believe that. But the rest of her was internally screaming because, damn it, she knew it!

“Hello.” She said, her voice strangely quiet even to her own ears.

He leaned down and offered her his hand. She appraised it for a moment, her eyes roaming over its lines and freckles, before slowly, temptingly, taking it. Their fingers wound around one another and held on lightly. She took the steps up to join him on the stage.

Suddenly their bodies were very close together. She could feel his warmth and smell his entrancing scent. Her eyes travelled up to his face, and she thought her heart was going to jump from her chest when she saw those deep brown eyes lingering on her; looking at her like they never wanted to look at anything else again.

“So? Are you surprised, or did you puzzle it out on your own?” he asked slowly.

“I…had my hopes up that it would be you,” she answered shyly.

He smiled that incredibly handsome, boyish smile, and it was just for her. She couldn’t help but giggle and smile back.

After a moment, she couldn’t help herself from asking, “Why me?”

“Why you?” His eyebrows raised in surprise. “I thought you’d know.”

She tilted her head, puzzled. “Know what?”

“Ah…do you remember back in like, second grade or whatever it was, when you fell off the swing?”

She blushed. “Yes, I do. You helped me up and wiped away my tears.”

“Yeah, and we spent the rest of that recess talking,” he smiled warmly. “I don’t remember exactly what we talked about…probably silly kid stuff. But, I do remember thinking you were pretty, and that you should never have to cry like that.”

“Even then?” she whispered.

“Even then.”

“Then why…why now?”

“Because…I suck. I spent all these years with a crush on you that I could never move on from and I…I was way too nervous around you because of it. I still am, but I just…well, it’s our senior year, so I thought it was now or never. And I realized I really, really couldn’t stand the thought of it being never.”

Rey hadn’t realized until just that moment that they had been slowly getting closer and closer together. When her chest brushed against his she couldn’t help the gentle gasp she made, or the steady pounding of her heart when he didn’t move away.

One of his fingers brushed a lock of her hair away from her face and she wondered, in that brief moment when his skin made contact with hers, if he could feel the heat he’d created upon her flesh. Did he know what he was doing to her? The undeniable nervousness in his shining eyes said yes, he knew firsthand.

“If I never got to see you like this, if I never got to be alone with you again…I think I’d go mad,” he continued, his voice a softly rasping whisper. “If I never got to kiss you…”

“Then do it,” she begged, daring to place her hands delicately upon his chest. “Kiss me, now.”

His fingers trailed along her jaw as he lowered his lips to hers, and she held his hand there, as she felt the roughness of the stubble on his cheek with her other. His lips were soft upon hers at first, and alluring. He was clearly allowing himself to enjoy every tiny moment of their kiss, and it was so romantic of him, but she couldn’t resist the insatiable pull she felt within herself. She wanted more.

Her fingers threaded themselves into his hair and pulled him closer, holding him there, securing him before her. The feeling of his hand travelling down her side and slipping around her waist almost made her moan. It felt like the world was finally giving her everything she’d ever asked for, and she felt equal-parts thrilled and stunned that it had been right in front of her this entire time.

When their embrace finally ended, they looked at each other through half-lidded eyes filled with stars.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Ben whispered.

Rey chuckled and let her head settle on his chest. His arms wrapped protectively around her and she felt as comforted as she had that day on the playground.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ben.”

[ladyserendipitous]

This is a birthday fic for the wonderful @miraculousstorytelling I’m sorry your gift is late Pastry!  <3!

The Concert

Nino was amused as he glanced over at Adrien. The boy was absolutely entranced by the performance in front of them. Part of it was definitely because up until Marinette announced she was going to be part of the concert, Adrien had no clue Marinette played an instrument. Not surprising since Marinette had stopped playing the violin just months prior to Adrien joining their class.

But there she was now, performing for the charity concert  just as well as those sitting by her if Nino was any judge.  All the practice she had been doing lately had paid off.  With the last song at its end, they stood up and applauded. The director looked pleased, as she should be. It was hard to tell Marinette’s reaction since her short stature made her hard to see with taller performers in front of her now standing. It didn’t really matter though because as soon as the curtain closed, Adrien was headed to the wing where Marinette would eventually be exiting.

Nino chuckled to himself. “Boy’s got it bad.”

“He’s not the only one,” Alya, who had been sitting between him and her parents, pointed out.

Nino smiled fondly as he looked over to where Adrien was waiting just as Marinette came through the door. While the gasp wasn’t audible from where they were, her body language was obvious. “Yeah.”

Alya clucks her tongue and Nino looked back over at her. She had a roguish smile on her lips and shook her head. “Let’s walk over there and give our congratulations as well.”

Nino agreed, and along with Marinette’s parents they went to give their own congratulations to her. Marinette’s cheeks were pink and she cradled the bouquet of a similar shade of pink, with white flowers too, carefully. They all got to give her hugs before her father’s turn. Only quick thinking by her mother saved the bouquet as Sabine took them from her daughter just as the large man gave her a bear hug.

The reception after the concert was a relaxed affair as the audience took refreshments and talked with performers. Marinette wasn’t looking to mingle “I’m not a professional after all.” and preferred to just talk with those she knew, including Nadja Chamack who had been the one to ask Marinette to perform. Through the whole evening Adrien was by her side, and Nino couldn’t help but think they looked good together.

Invitation To Dinner

“Dude, you brought flowers?” Nino asked as they met in front of the bakery.

“Of course, you always bring flowers, or wine or some other gift for the hostess during a dinner,” Adrien explained as they walked through the door.

“It’s not like a formal dinner or anything you know,” Nino retorted shaking his head with a smile.

“Dinner is dinner, besides Marinette is making this whole meal from scratch,” Adrien reminded him.

Nino couldn’t really argue with that.  If anything he felt a soft warmness at Adrien’s forethought on the matter. Adrien was just that nice of a guy to consider these sorts of occasions.  

They greeted Sabine at the counter before heading up the stairs. When they knocked on the door Marinette was the one to answer. Her hair was up in a bun and was wearing a cute apron to protect her outfit. An outfit he was sure she made herself and had planned for just this dinner.

“You’re here,” she greeted in delight when she saw the two of them. Then Adrien held out the bouquet. “For me?”

“Well you did invite us to dinner,” Adrien said with a grin.

“True. Oh, come in!” Marinette realized she had been keeping the boys on the landing and stepped aside so the could enter. “Everyone else should be arriving soon. I’m glad you’re both here now.”

As she walked back to the kitchen, probably to get a vase for the bouquet of purple and blue flowers, Nino noticed the delicious aromas. Glancing at Adrien he knew he wasn’t the only one. Absently he thought, ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’

May Day

Marinette walked into class smirking, in her hand she held a basket full of bright and happy yellow flowers. Nino moved forward, slightly leaning on his desk. “What’s with the flowers?”

“Someone anonymously left them for me this morning,” Marinette said, her gaze slowly leaving Nino to look at the blond behind him. Nino turned to look, seeing a self satisfied grin on Adrien’s face.

“Why are you both looking at me. Anyone could have left Marinette a mayday basket,” Adrien said, not doing a very good job trying to look innocent.

Marinette walked over to put the basket atop her desk. “Considering the location of said basket, I highly doubt it was anyone else.”

Nino lifted an eyebrow. “You wanted to be caught, didn’t you?”

“I just wanted to ensure my May Day basket was received by the right person,” Adrien protested.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?” Marinette said with such fondness that Nino felt struck by the words. Adrien, who was the target, looked like a puddle of goo.

Anytime Nino glanced at Marinette’s direction during class he caught her smelling the flowers, or lightly touching the petals or even just admiring the basket bouquet.

Congratulations Are In Order

“I got it,” Marinette cried out as she returned to class from their lunch break. She was all but spinning as she walked across the floor which made Nino slightly nervous, the girl wasn’t known for her grace in everyday life.

Marinette didn’t trip though, but instead was holding a piece of paper to her chest.

“What did you get?” Adrien asked as he pushed away from the desk he’d been leaning against while talking to Nino.

Marinette went up to him, almost shoving the piece of paper in his face. Adrien took her wrist to push it back enough to read then he let out a whoop, grabbed her by the waist, and spun her around. “I knew you’d get that internship.”

Marinette giggled, clinging to Adrien even as he sat her back on her feet. Nino grinned, watching their antics until his cheeks hurt. “Adrien’s right, you were a shoe in for that summer internship.”

“I really wasn’t, but thank you for your vote of confidence Nino,” she told him as her eyes sparkled in merriment. She looked to want to say more but Alya claimed her arm, dragging Marinette away from Adrien and declaring that a celebration was in order. Rose and Juleka were with her and they all started to give their own congratulations.

Nino glanced back at Adrien who had his phone out. He was obviously up to something. “What are you doing?”

“Celebratory flowers are in order,” Adrien told him in a hushed tone showing a page of vase arrangements from a florist shop.

Nino shook his head in amusement. “What about the pink and purple one?”

Adrien looked at his phone then back at Nino.  “Great idea! I should be able to get it delivered just before we’re out of school.”

In Sickness & In Health

“Whoa, Adrien you look like…,” Nino was reluctant to say what as Adrien flopped down next to him.

“Oh, I know. Yesterday was rough,” Adrien said with a sigh. Nino patted Adrien’s shoulder in sympathy.

“I have some videos submitted to me for the Ladyblog of last night’s akuma attack,” Alya commented from the table behind them. “A few commenters have noticed that Chat Noir seemed to have gotten the rough end of the battle. Good thing Ladybug can revert all damages.”

“Yeah, which is a good thing.” Adrien ran a hand through his hair. “Did you talk to Marinette this morning?”

Alya made a face. “I think she relapsed. She’s not coming to school today, that’s for sure.”

With a groan Adrien placed his forehead on the table. Nino traded looks with Alya, but there wasn’t much that could be said. Adrien then brought his head up suddenly. “Ask her if she wants visitors after school!”

Alya chuckled. “Good idea, but why are you making me do it. You could text her.”

“You’re her best friend. She’ll be more honest with you than if I text her,” Adrien pointed out.

“The boy can be taught,” Alya said with a snicker, even as she pulled out her phone and was texting Marinette.

Nino couldn’t recall the last time he’d been in Marinette’s room. Sabine had escorted them up to the room where Marinette was sitting on her day bed, surrounded by so many pillows and blankets. She looked very tiny, which wasn’t something he was use to since even though she was obviously shorter than him, her personality added a good deal of height to her. Sabine made them promise not to let Marinette get up and do anything and to keep their visit short.

“Hi there,” Marinette said in a hoarse whisper as they walked over to her.

“Hi yourself. Marinette you need to take better care of yourself,” Alya reprimanded lightly with a mock serious expression on her face, which made Marinette chuckle until she started coughing.

“I’m sorry Marinette,” Adrien said as he went to sit on the edge of the lounge, a bouquet of bright orange flowers in his hand.

“It’s not your fault,” Marinette insisted even though it was obvious Adrien wasn’t willing to agree.

Nino’s eyes glanced around the room while these simple exchanges were going on, as they tried to get her to smile or drink her tea or promise to rest as much as she could. There were sketches and photos, half finished projects and trinkets out everywhere. There was also hanging in front of the round window four bouquets, drying. When Alya and Marinette were deep in discussion, Nino nudged Adrien and pointed them out. “She’s as sentimental as you are.”

Adrien lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Quite the opposite. It’s why you’re both so amazing,” Nino told him, hoping Adrien understood how truthful he was being, because they were. The two most amazing people he knew by far.

For No Reason What So Ever

Nino walked into class and saw a large vase arrangement of roses. Beautiful, deep red, roses. At least two dozen of them. Nino paused at the entrance and just stared at them for a moment in amazement. He then saw the blond model turn front and grinning at him.  “Dude, I think you went overboard this time for flowers for Marinette.”

“I would like to point out those aren’t sitting at my desk Nino,” Marinette said with a smile, sitting behind Adrien.  Nino blinked. She was right. They were…. “That’s your seat unless I’m horribly mistaken.”

Nino gaped at the two of them, then looked at the flowers again. Yup, they were at his side of the table. Slowly, as if in a dream he walked over to his chair, but couldn’t quite figure out how sitting worked just yet. He looked back at the couple again. “Why?”

Adrien frowned. “What, I can’t give my boyfriend flowers just because?”

“But you always have a reason when you get Marinette flowers,” Nino pointed out, because yeah, Adrien always found a reason to buy Marinette flowers. Never once was it just on a whim.

“That’s because he’s skirting around my request,” Marinette said, scowling at the blond, but without any real malice.

Nino finally felt like he could sit, so he did, even if it was more like falling into his seat. “I don’t understand.”

Adrien was smirking at Marinette with absolute adoration, then turned to look at Nino. Nino was sure one of these days that look direct at him was going to stop his heart and that would be the end of Nino Lahiffe. “So like months and months ago on patrol, when we were all trying to figure out what was between the three of us she gave me an ultimatum.”

“It wasn’t an ultimatum,” Marinette protested.  Nino had a feeling Adrien was a little bit more correct about whatever this was than Marinette was. Absently he took one of the roses from the arrangement, spinning the stem in his hand as he listened to his two partners.

“It was an ultimatum,” Adrien insisted quietly to Nino though there was no way Marinette hadn’t heard. “She told me I wasn’t allowed to go off and spoil her anytime I wanted. That I wasn’t allowed to be…. what was the word, oh yes, frivolous.”

The frown Marinette had now was a little more real and the smirk Adrien wore was 100% Chat Noir. “Let me guess,” Nino finally was putting the pieces together. “You took that as a challenge ?”

Adrien shrugged and Marinette herumped. Nino couldn’t help it, he started cracking up. He was dating two of the most dramatic heroes in all of Paris.

Little did Nino know that Adrien’s desire to spoil his partners, now that he wasn’t so distracted with besting Marinette at her own game, was going to lead to a lot more surprises. While at times Adrien would embarrass him, Nino did not regret his relationship with Adrien and Marinette, though he soon after adopted Marinette’s stance on occasions. It didn’t stop Adrien from spoiling the both of them, but it slowed it down to a more acceptable level. Years later, Marinette and Nino would still look at the dried flowers of Adrien’s early days of over the top gifts to them out of love (and a dramatic desire for romance) and agree they were very lucky to have him in their life.

[sakuurae]

53 and 8 I know requests are closed rn but I'll forget to ask for this if I don't do this now lmao,, could you maybe do 53 and 8 with Johnny? If it's okay

prompts: “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”“I want my best friend back.”

pairing: johnny & reader insertincludes: light angstwc: 1.6knote: Not sure if this is the direction you wanted this to go down, but i hope you enjoy! I havent had the most motivation to write a lot lately, so this is probably the shortest thing ill ever release on this blog, lmaooo. I just needed to write a bit to see if itd help me get out of my slump :)

It was not an everyday occurrence for you to feel under the weather.

In fact, it was a rare event. Blue days for you were tabbed under the file of impossibilities in your life, for everything was peachy and placid for a short while. That was because you had Jung Jaehyun in your life.

Well, to be quite fair, your boyfriend, Jaehyun, still held a place in your life. It was just because he was no longer physically close to you. He had to move away for college, now at the opposite side of the country. To keep up communication was a promise, a determined task in order to hold up one of the pillars of the relationship. But even so that duty was met, it never felt enough for you—you craved to see Jaehyun, to be held in his arms again, and feel not the slightest amount of distance. The only proximity you wanted to be shared was the inches that his face were to be from yours, right before he shuts it with a fervent kiss.

And thinking about that made your heart swell—in all the good and bad ways.

Months had soared by and Jaehyun still remained on the opposite side of the country, even though it felt like he was crosswise on the universe. Back at your hometown you spent your college days with a man named Youngho. He was no stranger; in fact, he was someone who knew you as much as Jaehyun did because Youngho was, indeed, your closest friend. During high school the three of you hung out like peas in a pod—until the split happened.

It felt like fate to have Youngho attend the same university as you, especially since the rest of your friends became scattered across the country. But as if there was a transparent string that latched you to Youngho, moving away from him was futile.

Throughout the course of a few months soaring by, Youngho witnessed your blue phases waving over your being like a gargantuan tide. The smile he knew like the back of his hand—the grin he would be able to sketch from memory since it is imbued into his brain—started to fade along with the twinkles of hope that sparkled in your eyes.

Imperfect qualities that Youngho saw as flawless had no longer graced your being, and they were overtaken by a frown of dismal. You then started to walk as if there was an overcast lingering above you, and that weights were dragging your ankles back.

Tired of witnessing your tenebrous appearance, Youngho voiced the idea of lunch. To no surprise, you declined, and that only prompted him to pester you until you released a breathy ‘yes.’

Youngho accompanied you to one of his favourite local restaurants, the beam that painted in his face never faltering from the false belief that his joy would uplift your spirits. Confused looks were being tossed to him, and the question of why he was acting all jocular lodged into your throat, the words in tight knots.

You were sitting across the table from him in his favourite restaurant, an uncomfortable silence lapsing for the first few moments. Your cellular phone was resting on the surface, face up with notifications on in the hopes that your device would flash with an incoming call from Jaehyun. You were more attentive to your phone than Youngho’s words, and it caused him to release a sigh.

“I heard the food here’s pretty good,” he informed you, his fingertips drumming on the wooden table as the meals arrive. “I’m sure you’ll like it.”

You nodded, your lips pursed into a pout. “Yeah, I think I will too.”

Youngho’s expression dropped when he heard your voice. The words were hopeful, but laced with desolation, and it bored a void into Youngho’s chest. You were gawking at your phone, eyes barely peering up to Youngho and at your food. Though, the moment you and Youngho locked solemn gazes he forced a smile, the corners of his lips quirking up into an expression of reassurance.

Your hand was resting on the table and you started to retract it to grab onto your phone, but Youngho’s arm extended to stop you, his hand grasping around your wrist.

“Don’t think about him for one night—maybe even an hour,” Youngho told you with a beaming grin. His thumb circled over your skin in a comforting manner, trying to ease you out of your worries. “Just enjoy this food—I’m sure you’ll love it.”

You released a sigh, a sound Youngho had then became accustomed to throughout the night. “Fine,” you groaned, your hand retracting to your side. “I guess he’s fine.”

“Of course he is,” Youngho assured. “It’s Jae, after all.”

After he said that, you remained silent throughout the entire night. The most you touched your food was with simple prods with a fork, or spears into the sustenance with a knife, but you never consumed anything. Your worries chased their way into your mind in a pestering manner, and it diminished your appetite, making the food go to a practical waste.

Youngho was eating passionately across the table, the corners of his lips quirked upwards as if he believed the happiness was a virus that he would be able to pass onto you. Though, just as your own, his smile faded once you could no longer fight the urge to check your phone for messages, calls—anything from Jaehyun. You perused your social media when there was no luck, only to find a fresh trace of your boyfriend resting on your news feed.

Jaehyun uploaded a picture of himself at a football game, his arm looped around another girl as if he dragged her into an annoying embrace; the sight of it made your insides flame up with envy and fractions of antipathy. A thousand questions soared into your mind: why was he with her, how did he have the time to upload a picture and not respond to your messages for the past two days?

You, once again, sighed and placed your head down on the dinner table. The phone slipped from your grasp and it remained motionless on the surface, enticing Youngho to catch a glimpse of the reason you were under the weather.

Youngho pressed his lips into a thin line and spoke, “Is everything okay, (y/n)?”

You tilted your head, facing him with glossy eyes. “Yeah,” you assured. “Just Jae again.”

“You used to never worry about him,” Youngho commented, twirling his fork into his meal. “Well, you did—but not to this degree. Is everything okay?”

“Of course everything is okay.” You nodded, straightening your posture. You looked at your close friend intensely, the determination in your eyes to convince him present.

Youngho’s eyebrows came together, the worried expression sketching on his face making you slump in your seat. “You haven’t even touched your food,” he commented. “You’re not fine—what’s going on?”

“Just Jae—”

“But what about Jae,” he continued sternly. You were practically able to hear the disappointment sketch on his face, his worries evident in the air. Youngho gained a desire to message Jaehyun, to give him the idea that he was causing you to pain unintentionally—that he was hurting you immensely just by ignoring you or brushing your presence to the side, but he was unable to for all the selfish reasons.

You heard Youngho sigh when you decided to remain silent. The truth was written on the walls, but you were unable to voice the complaints to Youngho—because saying it made you feel as if you were facing the end of your and Jaehyun’s relationship. It was a rocky path since he moved and you chose to give him the benefit of the doubt—always.

Youngho sighed and stared at you as you rose up and fixed your posture. “I want my best friend back,” he told you. You opened your mouth to reply, but he cut you off by adding, “You’ve been worrying about Jaehyun constantly. I think you need to talk to him on the phone about this. And I know he isn’t replying to you, but I’m sure he sees your texts. Message him saying it’s serious and call to sort things out—because I hate seeing you upset. It makes me hurt knowing I can’t do anything to make you feel better, (y/n).”

His words swam in your ears and it took you a while for you to comprehend. Youngho had a valid point, but your fear still took over you for a couple of seconds. “Fine,” you sighed, reaching for your device again. “What should I say?”

“Say you need to talk when he’s free—and that it’s important,” Youngho guided, slipping his phone out of his pocket to pass time as you send the message.

You stared at the screen emptily, the message window of Jaehyun on your screen as if it was mockery. You groaned, dreading such an act and a call, but allowed your thumb to roam the surface nonetheless.

You [6:53 p.m.] Jae, we need to talk. Call me when you can, okay?

You hesitated and looked up at Youngho, whose phone ringed off from a notification, staring at him before adding:

You [6:55 p.m.] I miss you a lot, jae :(

You smiled at the sent messages, the fence no longer feeling like a tall obstacle you had to hop over. Grinning at Youngho, you noticed a frown being pulled at his lips.

“Is everything okay, Youngho?” you asked him, the tables turning as you were worrying about him now.

But he remained silent. The effort Youngho pushed you to do went down the drain, and little did you know those messages to your boyfriend meant close to nothing.

Youngho stared at the message on his screen as if it was a lifeless taunt:

Jaehyun [6:53 p.m.] dude, i think i should break up with (y/n)

Jaehyun [6:53 p.m.] distance kills, and it just doesnt seem like we’re going to work out

Youngho forced a smile at you, assuring you of your worries as he put his phone away. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Don’t worry about anything.”

[roses-and-oceans]

Cafe. (ffxv twin au)

For @ubeshibe; my half of our trade!

I hope you don't mind, I added a little bit of a twist to it... And then I think it sprialed out of control like most of my writing does LOL I AM SO SORRY. HHHHHH. I SEND U ALL MY GOOD IGNIS PICS AS RECOMPENSE. IM ALSO SORRY IT TOOK SO GOTDAN LONG AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH ENDLES SHRIEKING.

Also holy SHTI TUMBLR MOBLIE SUCKS DICK I AM SALTY

Scientia Twin HCs

**

Aurelio sat down on the plush leather armchair in Ignis' study and propped his feet up on the coffee table. Not a moment later did Ignis come in, arms laden with a tea tray and books. Aurelio looked up in astonishment from his twin's amazing balance and as Ignis handed over the books, Ignis also kicked off Aurelio's legs off the table with a stern, "Oi." 

Aurelio scrunched up his nose in a besmused expression as he examined the spines of the books, "Ah, lovely. These are just what I've been looking for!" "Will they help with your expedition notes, then?" Ignis asked as he poured them both cups of tea. He sprinkled in a bit of sugar in Aurelio's cup and placed the cup and saucer next to the books. As Ignis was readying his own cuppa, he looked over to Aurelio peering over the lip of his own teacup. He was smiling... Ignis felt his nerves bristle a bit and steeled himself for Aurelio's probing. A beat passed. Obviously, he had to engage him. Ignis sighed as he raised the porcelain to his lips, "Yes?" "So who was that lovely person I heard that you were ogling at the coffee shop?" Ignis had enough grace to keep from spitting out his tea. "I beg your-?" Ogling? No, he couldn't have been staring for that long for it to be called "ogling". It was polite interest and-. "What a miraculous shade of pink you are, brother dear." Ignis gave a little cough and took a deep breath. "How did you even know about-?" "Noctis is easily persuaded by pizza." Aurelio laughed as his brother glared daggers at him, "Oh cut him some slack, Igs! He's a growing boy-" "With a severe vitamin deficiency-" "-and is also not the choice of subject for discussion..." He put down his cup on the saucer and inched forward in the armchair. "I want to hear about this mystery person... Noct couldn't glimpse hide nor hair before you were scolding him to make him pay attention to whatever it was you two were doing." Ignis rolled his eyes and simply said, "No," and took a swig of his tea. Aurelio scoffed and leaned back. "Ignis, why not?" "Because, I'm not all that keen on discussing it." "Have you talked to them, at least?" "I told you, I'm not-" "So you have! You would have denied it, otherwise!" "Pipe down, you git! Alright, yes, I've talked to-" "I knew it! I was just bluffing-" "I swear to the astrals... Shiva, grace me with the strength..." ** Somehow, Ignis found himself seated in the cafe he frequented with Noctis during the week, between meetings and study sessions. This little corner shop was modest in decor and prices, yet they brewed a cup of Ebony to pure perfection. Though enjoying a nice cup of his favorite coffee, Ignis’ leg was twitching. He watched Aurelio calmly sip his chamomile tea, his brother’s eyes roaming everywhere to take in everyone’s faces. Ignis tried to look everywhere but at your face. You were working diligently on Astrals’-knew-what, completely oblivious to the bustling shop around you. Ignis spared a glance. He knew he shouldn’t have but he couldn’t resist your focused expression. He found it endearing, charming even. He liked seeing that glint in your eye. He watched you pause the task to glance at your phone and he could hear your bark of laughter through the cacophony of the clinks of porcelain, the mindless chatter. He wondered if he should brave a conversation with you, today. But you looked dreadfully busy, he couldn’t possibly-. “Hold my tea.” A lukewarm cup of tea was thrust into Ignis’ empty hand and before he could snatch Aurelio by the nape of his cardigan and force him back down on the chair, he strode over to you.   You looked up from your work as a tall shadow loomed over you. Aurelio couldnt help but feel a little warm jolt at your smile.   Your voice was nice and warm, a little rough, “Hey there, Stranger.” “Hello to you, too,” Aurelio said as he took a seat next to you, “How are you?” “I’m doing good,” you said as you settled into your seat, uncrossed and recrossed your legs, “I’m finishing up a few sketches.” You tossed your pencil onto the table and stretched out your wrists, reveling in the swift pops, “You look so different than usual. Day off?” Aurelio’s eyebrow quirked up, “Hmn?” You brought up a paper cup to your lips, “Your hair’s not up. And you’re not in a suit. I like the round specs too.” Gods above… did you really think-? “Aw crap! I gotta go. I’m gonna be late for this thing…” You began shoveling things into your backpack and said, “Y’know, I like this laid-back style you’ve got going today Ignis. I’ll see you next time!” You heft your bag over your shoulder and walked out of the second door, just barely missing the actual Ignis, whose upper lip was covered in a sheen of sweat, his leg jiggling miles a minute. Aurelio stood up, completely stunned into a state and walked back over to Ignis. "Well?" Ignis hissed as Aurelio sat down and took back his now cold tea. He took a sipp and said with a mild smile, "She thought I was you." "Oh, gods above," he winced as he wiped his forehead, "That's exponentially worse... What did you say to her?" Aurelio finished off his tea and gave a cough, "I really didn't say anything, other than greeting her. I just thought she was a chatty person. But I cant believe she mistook me for you! I am my own person!" "I have told her I've a brother, i didn't specify." "And why didn't you? I'm-" "Enough with your identity crisis, Aurelio! Gods, I can't believe you went over and talked to her. I want to take my time with this friendship." Ignis downed the rest of his Ebony and slammed his cup on its saucer. He started making his way out of the cafe, and Aurelio followed, a string of apologies flowing out as they walked back to their apartment complex. "I really don't need your help, Aurelio," Ignis sighed. He was tired, his head was about to explode thanks to his brother's chatter. Ignis sat on the couch and rubbed at his temples and said, "Alright, enough... Its fine, Aurelio. You didnt mean any harm. She was smiling, at least." Aurelio gave Ignis a small, sheepish smile, "Bet I can get her to laugh." "I can, too, and I dont have to resort to idiotic antics." Aurelio scoffed, "Is that a challenge, brother dear?" Ignis could feel his headache turning into a migraine. ** The very next day, Ignis withdrew the best chortle he's ever heard in existence from you. After he recounted ridiculous anecdotes from experiences with Noctis,  he couldn't help but laugh along; your laughter lit up the entire cafe. The tips of his ears were pink the rest of the conversation, and eventually, you had to shoo him away. You had loads of work to do. The next day also had Aurelio trying to make you laugh. To say it had worked were to be an understatement. At least he was kind enough to bring you napkins to help clean up from your spittake. Some of your tea had even come out from your nose. "I'm so sorry, I've nearly killed you." "Its fine, really! My notes aren't all that wet." He got you a really nice cup of tea to make up for it. Then, when you decided to also shoo away Aurelio to get some work done, he noticed how your lips formed your smile, how your eyes shone. As he walked home, his ears felt warm. He still hadn't told you his name, yet. ** A week had already gone by and Ignis had not told you about Aurelio yet. It was actually rather nice to hear how kind he was to you. Not that Aurelio lacked manners, it was that he was a bit bolder than Ignis; Ignis with the bass boosted. The fact that you were easily able to converse with both about anything and everything was amazing. They both remembered your favorite pastries, your favorite tea blend, your cat's name. They remembered your friends' names. When you were with Aurelio, everything is so relaxed, calm. Plenty of more laughs to be had. You chalked it up to his "days off". With Ignis, you still laughed, of course, but there was sometimes silences, yet you both found comfort in the silences. He often brought you a home-cooked lunch. You liked to see the apples of his cheeks slightly flush when you thanked him. When you were with either of the boys, your world was a tiny bit brighter. You looked forward to seeing them everyday. It was just that they hoped that you didn't mind the little twin trick. Ignis decided to tell you this upcoming weekend. You were going to be going out of town and he thought it would be best to ruminate over the details. And hopefully, you'd still decide to be friends with them when you'd come back. Both boys were a mess of twitching legs and tapping fingers. Whaf if you were repulsed, or worse, angry? Ignis continued to dwell and dwell in the negatige thoughts of you breaking of the friendship. He thought of every grave outcome and he edging himself close to the brink of madness. Oh please, god above, forgive him. Forgive him for- "Look, there she is, I don't think she's staying." Ignis looked up to see you holding a travel cup, tea string dangling. He saw you head over to the bar to grab honey and sugar and he immediately followed. He had collected a fine sheen of sweat on his brow when he got to you. "Oh hey, Ignis!" You greeted him with one of your smiles, "Sorry,  I wont be able to stay. I have to leave in a few minutes." He smiled, "No worries at all. Getting started on your weekend?" You looked up from stirring honey into your tea, "Yeah, my friends are excited to see me and I'm ready for a nice weekend away." "Alright, well I do hope you get to relax and enjoy your time." Ignis had started flapping his hand to motion Aurelio to start coming over, "But, before you leave, I've hoped to introduce you to someone." You had finally gotten the right mix of sweetness for your tea when you looked up and saw Aurelio and Ignis standing right next to each other. "Oh, my Gods!" You shrieked. Tea went flying everywhere. It hit Aurelio’s right cardigan sleeve, Ignis’ vest, and your shoes. The brothers were happy to buy you a new cup and a pastry. It was a wonder the cafe hadn't kicked the three of you out.

[omnical]

I Sing the Body Electric... (1/?)

( Next )

Summary: All her life, forensic pathologist Dr. Angela Ziegler has dabbled much with the dead. After a bout of self-realization, she decides it was time she learned how to deal with the living.

And maybe ask her colleague out for a date somehow.

Genre: AU, Romance. Dark humor. Oh, and ghosts and psychics (anyone a fan of pushing daisies?)

Characters/Pairings: Angela, Lucio, Fareeha (mentioned), Pharmercy

Rating: T, mentions of body gore and third party violence, dark humor.

Links: AO3

Victim died from a singular sharp force: a penetrating wound to the head, resulting in cranial injury.

Left side, approximately 1.53 inches superior to the left orbit.

No murder weapon discovered in the crime scene.

Angela hummed, tapping her lip with the pen.

She paused the voice recorder and wrote her thoughts down on a yellow notebook, leg bobbing, her mind sinking deeper into concentration. By her elbow, a steaming cup of coffee remained untouched, and a nine-hour-old, empty sandwich wrapper laid crumpled up in a ball. Empty coffee cups littered her desk, alongside a mess of sticky notes with crucial thoughts written on them, such as: ‘the nasal cavity?’ and ‘lentil soup’.

Her uniform smelled freshly of antiseptic and murk from the examination they had performed earlier today. It sunk into her skin, her hair; lingering under her nose. Nothing she wasn’t used to, but being used to the smell did not mean she wouldn’t enjoy a long, hot shower back home. Finally, wiping biscuit crumbs off her wobbling keyboard and cracking her long, crooked fingers -- Angela got to work threading the details together. Her peering blue eyes did not break away from the notes and sketches she accumulated, as she typed down her meticulous observations regarding the case. And after what felt like hours, Dr. Ziegler sat back stiffly, curled hands hovering above the keyboard as she skimmed through her official autopsy report, eyes straining from overexposure to the monitor light.

She needed a few more moments of scribbling and typing and biting her pen. Playing the recorder again, keeping it on repeat; she listened to the sound of her voice, crackling and interspersed with static:

Body was found by janitorial staff at 1:30 PM.

According to the man in question, he was lying face-down on his desk, his pose suggesting a struggle, which explains various points of discoloration on his skin…

Blunt force trauma found on abdomen… bruising prominent beneath the left rib –

Where was his position when he received that bruise again?

Angela hummed, her thumbs tapping a random rhythm on the keyboard's space-key.

Once she reached the end of the tape for the third time, marked by a soft ‘click’, afternoon had already come and gone, her desktop monitor the only light bathing her in blue. She hid the recorder in the drawer, her free hand busy alternating between drafting a few rough sketches on paper, and typing exact details on the autopsy report. The doctor took a moment to grab a folder for Case #765 on top of a pile, opening it and flipping over to the photos of the crime scene: dried blood splattered outwards in every chaotic direction on the victim’s mahogany desk; his leather writing pad askew, probably because of how the body fell upon its expiry. She pinched her pen idly between her nose and upper lip, noting how neat the rest of the victim’s desk looked otherwise. She wondered what Satya would say about that particular pattern of blood. It looked like a bunny rabbit.

“Doc Ziegler?”

Cutting herself off in the middle of her thoughts before it drifted too far, Angela reached out to grab her coffee cup, not minding its ice-cold contents, and re-read her notes during their Internal Examination. Angela could only imagine what kind of weapon the murderer used. Or get an idea of what it was, at least, after seeing the results of the death blow herself. This seemed like a tricky one.

“Doc?”

Now if she were to make a guess, it would have been an extremely sharp knife with a serrated edge or…

Angela blindly grabbed for her pen, cocking her head when she realized, during her feverish thought process, she had lost the blasted thing somewhere and could not for the life of her remember where…

“Yo, Dr. Ziegler!” Angela blinked rapidly when Dr. dos Santos’ face appeared in front of her peripheral vision, her blurry sight sharpening until she could see the quirk of his eyebrow and his amused smirk up close. “Busy?” After a pause, a few seconds spent allowing her mind to buffer as she forcefully snapped herself back into reality, Angela jumped in her chair and uttered a small and startled ‘oh’. Her speeding thoughts halting violently in its tracks, not unlike a race car screeching out of the road in a rabble of chaos. She blinked again and, similar to the spread of colored dye blooming in water, her mind began to consciously feel the kinks and aches in her bones ignored for too long. A beat, and she realized her stomach had also released an embarrassing rumble on top of it all. She sent Lucio a sheepish look.

“Doctor, I’m sorry, I -- ” Angela shoved her skewed glasses up her nose, “You startled me.”

Lucio shook his head and rested hands on his hips while he regarded his frazzled mentor. There were biscuit crumbs dotting the corners of her mouth, and her blonde hair stuck up in several different directions all at once. Her clothing was rumpled and frayed, high heels pushed to the corner of her desk, leaving her feet covered in wrinkled stockings, and -- there were coffee stains on her shirt. He sighed, wondering who was really looking after who, in their professional relationship.

“So,” he said, elongating the word into a drawl, “Please tell me you ate lunch?”

Dr. Ziegler cleared her throat, “Yes, of course I had lunch.” she said, wiping crumbs off her chin. “I had something hot and soup-like almost an hour ago, and – “

“I don’t think coffee counts as ‘lunch’, Angela.”

Angela groaned in defeat and closed her eyes, watching bright spots dance beneath her eyelids as her body melted into the chair like putty. She breathed in deep, then stretched her legs out with an exhale. “Just finishing up on some paperwork, that’s all. You know how I get carried away sometimes.”

“How about all the time? And I think ‘carried away’ wasn’t exactly the term I was looking for. Try ‘workaholic’, or ‘perfectionist’.” Lucio leaned his hip against Angela’s desk, crossing his arms, and peering down at her with a mock frown, his neon green headset bunched up around his neck. Even if Dr. Lucio dos Santos was many years younger than her, and technically working under her, Angela hunkered down into her seat feeling much like a child under the watchful eyes of a parent. “When was the last time you took a ten-minute break, young lady?”

“I am not working too hard,” Angela groused. She sat back up in her seat with a grunt, feeling her back and neck pop. “This is just regular me, doing my regular me things,” She shot him a look. “Mom.”

“Don’t give me lip, young lady, you know you’re wrong about this,” Lucio said, “As your colleague, you know I respect and look up to you. But as your friend? You gotta start taking care of yourself, Angela.”

Angela huffed through her nose and began to get her hands busy, stacking the mess of reports which covered her desk into a neat-ish pile, and actively trying to avoid the look Lucio was giving her. “Just be glad I am out of my funk, Dr. dos Santos. I am happy, motivated, and ready to take on the next seventeen cases.” Even the smile on her face felt fake. “Bring it on.”

“Uhuh.” Lucio wryly glanced at the mess of documents under her desk. “Angela, I’m sorry I gotta tell you this, but you have got to get a hobby. Doing something other than work might help you more with this midlife crisis thing.”

“I am not having a midlife crisis thing. I’m not that old, doctor. And–” Angela raised her eyebrows, denial written plainly across her face, “I do have a hobby,” she said with a shrug, “It just so happens that my hobby is related to my work.”

“Your hobby is dead bodies.” Lucio muttered.

“Solving problems. Discovering the unknown.”

“… About dead bodies.”

“Now, if you would kindly excuse me,” Angela threw her entire weight into tossing a giant, teetering stack of documents on the floor next to her feet with a huff. “I was, in fact, about to go and take my break.” she said, dusting her hands together, “Want to have lunch with me, doctor? It will be my treat.”

“It’s seven-thirty in the evening, Doc.”

“Oh, well, time flies I suppose.” Angela said, opening one of her desk drawers, then absentmindedly shoving Jim Jam wrappers and empty coffee cups inside. As if that would make her trash disappear in the morning.

After six months working in King’s Row Forensics Department, the terrifying sight of Dr. Ziegler’s desk hygiene was common enough for Dr. dos Santos to see. He learned early from older residents how futile it was to drag Dr. Ziegler away from a job, and Dr. dos Santos no longer stared at her and her atrocious, self-destructive habits in awe. Their student-mentor positions didn’t stop Lucio from chastising her about her work ethic, especially after witnessing drawn shadows prominent under her eyes everyday, and her smudged make up only completed Angela's usual look. Now one of Lucio’s many fears was finding Angela Ziegler in their morgue someday.

However.

Dr. dos Santos peered at her above the rim of his glasses, and noted the glow about her cheeks with a raised brow.

"Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen you this excited about solving a case since…”

“I am always excited about solving cases.”

“But where was that Doc Ziegler who was ‘tired of it all’ and who ‘wanted to do something new with her life’?” he asked, “Someone who wanted nothing to do with ‘death and dead stuff’? Don't give me that look, you know what I'm talkin' about."

"Lucio--"

"Where was that Angela Ziegler who was planning to quit and maybe try being a football coach or a field medic or something?”

“She is still here, and she happened to get a grip on reality after a lot of thinking.” Angela said, ducking her head, as if that would hide the dusting of red on her cheeks. “Besides, I am already finished with this case. The precinct needs it urgently tomorrow, and, you know…” she stumbled on her words.

“And?”

“I had to finish it quickly.” Angela finished lamely, her voice raising an octave higher as if that would make her sound innocent with her intentions. “Detective Amari was asking about it this morning, and I felt compelled to help her crack this case as soon as possible.”

Lucio felt both his eyebrows reach up his hairline. “Oh. I see. I see.” he said, a twinkle reaching his eye while he casually turned to check his nails, trying to appear more interested with its polish rather than the conversation itself, “Detective Dimples is an awesome source of motivation, isn’t she? Hoping to share a hobby with her, huh?”

“Oh, Lucio!” Angela almost jumped out of her chair, smacking his shoulder with a manila folder. “Don’t call her Detective Dimples.”

“Hey, you were the one swooning over her ‘smoky voice‘ and ‘beautiful smile’ a few days ago.” Lucio laughed, rubbing at the spot she slapped. “Admit it, doc, you’re too gay to handle another meeting with her.”

Angela exhaled, and schooled her features before she became too flustered; raking her fingers through her hair, and hoping the red flush now covering her neck down would fade before another nosy nancy came into the office.

Relax. You are a doctor. You are a professional.

She straightened up in her chair, and folded her hands together in her lap. “I wanted to make sure I handed it in right away, that is all.” she said, managing an impressive professional lull in the tone of her voice. “I didn’t want to make our relationship with the precinct worse than it already is. And secondly,” Angela’s brows pinched in annoyance, and pointed at her office with a sharp jab of her forefinger: “‘Detective Dimples’ stays inside this room, doctor.”

“Detective Amari’s bone structure and cheekbones are so sharp and prominent–“

“Lucio.”

“It makes me want to take up anthropology. Oh Detective.”

“Lucio!”

“Fine, fine, I promise I won’t bring it up again.” he said, trying not to double up in laughter, his poor attempt almost making him slip off her desk. “Professional reasons my ass, though, I know you’re her favorite in the lab. Always asking about you and your ‘thoughts’.” he waggled his eyebrows, “You should ask her out instead of doing this–” he motioned his hands at her vaguely, “Weird flirting ritual thing you’re doing. I doubt you can woo her by talking about dead bodies, Doc Ziegler.”

“I do no such thing, doctor.”

“You need to get out there and get a life. Any life. Get a hobby. Get some friends. Ask Detective A out on a sweet date. Live a little.”

“I do have friends. You’re my friend, yes? Sometimes I even read books.”

“Thrilling.”

“And the detective and I do connect, socially, but just as acquaintances and nothing more.” Angela said, pulling her fingers thoughtfully, “I am a grown woman, doctor, I have complete control of my life.”

“Last time you spoke to her, you struck up a conversation about bile.”

“Well, I thought it was fascinating.” Angela grabbed the rest of her documents and began to rearrange them in a tray next to her monitor, this time with less gusto, feeling herself hunch over as her mind began to conjure up depressing thoughts. “I don’t think I am her type, anyways.”

“Oh, nonsense.”

But it was true. Whether Angela liked it or not, why would anybody consider dating a frumpy, high-strung workaholic, who liked to open up dead bodies for a living?

Dr. Ziegler and Detective Amari were connected through their profession only, no matter what her feelings were. They barely did anything beyond striking awkward pleasantries and empty conversations with each other. Trying anything more proved too much for her to handle. She found it difficult navigating through compelling words above work jargon, while stuttering and pushing through her infuriating and terrifying feelings. Not even the universe was kind enough to let them to meet on different circumstances, thus, they only ever saw each other to discuss murder cases among... other things.

Angela’s eyes, tired and unfocused, turned to look back at the autopsy report, wishing she could get sucked back into its world, where things had more clarity and sense and nothing was embarrassing.

Angela wondered when speaking with the dead became easier for her than dealing with the living.

She checked the time on her digital clock, blinking when she read it was now seven-forty six in the evening. The lights from the city cast a glow over the smoggy horizon, and as Angela listened carefully, she could hear police sirens echo off from a distance. She wondered if it was going to be another case they would eventually find through their doors.

Another body, another life ended.

She felt a hand on her shoulder ground her, all teasing gone from Lucio’s voice. “You won’t know unless you try, Doc.”

EDITED (26/09/17): Just the pacing and switched some words :) Thank you!

[sharecreators-blog]

How Can I Improve My Art?

Artwork by Steven Shan

Up-and-coming artists, or young artists, always like to ask experienced artists for advice on making art and living life. How can I improve? How can I get better, or to a professional level? Or maybe you are simply not satisfied with the way that your art is coming out. There are many techniques that might guarantee an improvement in your art. But the first thing that you have to ask yourself before practicing and trying to make a living off of your art, is whether this is truly your passion or not. And what form of art is your passion? Once you have answered yes to this question, read on to find 10 ways that you can improve.

1. Practice

Let’s just get this one out of the way. This is the first thing that any skilled visual artist is going to tell you in regards to improving your art. You have heard it a THOUSAND times. Practice never fails. But it sure gets old hearing it from places over and over again. The truth is, the amount that you practice does not have to do with whether or not you are going to grow into a good artist. The truth comes into HOW you practice. And that is something that many of us do not realize at first. Practice can come in many forms: whether that be taking a class, copying a piece of art (SOLELY for practices’ sake, not claiming it as your own or showing anyone!), watching tutorials, etc. Try to draw more often from your head, instead of copying something you see in front of you.

Draw what is challenging, and draw quickly. A great way to improve drawing skills is figure drawing: go out to a cafe and do what is called “cafe sketching”, where you observe and draw people moving in real life. It is very technically challenging to do. But this sort of practice is the type of drawing that makes your brain work very hard on focusing on a subject and recording them on paper.

2. Read art books and watch tutorials

Any reputable artist has a bookshelf filled with art books full of tips, inspiration, tutorials, and more! Books like these not only support your fellow artists but offer a wonderful insight into art you have never seen before. The best thing about owning books perhaps is that they are tangible: you can hold them, and look through them, and read through them at your own pace. A wonderful book about realist painting is Color and Light by James Gurney. It is no secret that there are countless tutorial videos to watch on YouTube as well, that artists put out, giving many tips and tricks to simply get their name heard out there. Support the artists in your industry and strengthen your skills at the same time!

3. Invest in good art supplies

Find what works best for you! If you are a digital artist, for example, and find that your tablet is not working to your standards, or that a more expensive one may help with your workflow, by all reasonable means, don’t hesitate to jump on buying a new one! You would be surprised and what investing in quality art supplies can do for your art. But also keep in mind, just because something is expensive doesn’t mean that it will work best for YOU. Don’t fall onto the bandwagon of either side.

4. Observe the world around you

Many artists find that some of the best stories or ideas for art have not been their own, but from someone that has told them something. Or from instances that they have been in. Keep an eye and an ear open to ideas that you may find in your everyday life. Whether they are interesting, funny, or thought-provoking, there are lots of examples to pull from the real world that can work in your favor. Whether it be during your daily commute or out to get lunch, observing the world around you and the way it looks can improve your art drastically. Look at the way that light and shade play on texture. If you have a sketchbook with you at the time, record it, take note of it and try to mimic it. If you don’t, try to remember it in your mind, or snap a picture, then come back to your sketchbook later and try to re-do what you have learned.

5. Try different styles of art

Whether you are into anime, cartoony, or more realistic art, using various art styles every now and then opens your eyes up to the many styles that are out there, and will most definitely help you and lead you to the type of style that you are going for with your original drawings! Mimicking a style shows that you have a broad skill set, while having only one style can give you tunnel vision, and will not help you to grow as an artist.

6. Make a commitment (draw every day)

If you really want to get better at art, you are going to have to schedule a time to sit down and practice your art. You cannot expect it to happen overnight, or just in one session, or even several sessions. This is going to be a lifelong journey and setting goals and finding the hours in the day to draw are going to be crucial to your improvement. You will commit to the things that you care about, so if you care about your art and hold yourself accountable to the art you are hoping to create, then being successful in your art will go hand in hand with the time you are willing to put in. If it gets to be too much, that is also a bad thing, because artist burn-out can be very difficult to deal with. Yet, it is smarter to start with smaller goals and work up to bigger ones. Remember, these are commitments that every artist must deal with, else they fall out of practice or fall behind.

7. Learn from the masters

Masters of art such as Monet, Michelangelo, and Cezanne all had something in common: they studied from nature, and they had a mentor. If you want to improve your art, you need to do both.

You can learn things on your own, but having a mentor will give you another element of critique on your art that you would have never seen on your own. Your mentor is your pathway to success and all great artists had a teacher. Your mentor is your wealth of knowledge, that can see where you need to improve in ways that you cannot. You will make fewer mistakes, make more connections through them, and they will provide insight into your industry.

Visit your local MOMA for inspiration. Nature is a very revitalizing way to have your creative mind refreshed. Nature is full of color, wonder, mystery, beauty, but also danger. Go out and enjoy yourself, but also make sure to study the way that light and color interact with shapes, what sort of compositions you can form, the feelings that you get, etc. all things that you should be thinking about as you make your art.

8. Participate in drawing challenges

The most popular one in the art community currently is Inktober, where artists across Instagram post an ink drawing every day in October- coming from the Inktober page, where they post a new prompt every day. But you can simply make your own, use old Inktober prompts, or make a drawing challenge with your friends! These challenges put your skills to the test, make you use your creative mind to find solutions to the challenge. They also commit you to a time frame: whether that be daily, weekly, or monthly!

9. Surround yourself with art

Support other artists, your peers, by buying their art and hanging it in your room. Having an Instagram solely for your art, following only art accounts is most definitely one of the best ways to surround yourself with art in your daily life. Don’t stop finding new ways to be inspired… Surrounding yourself with art and other artists is a surefire way to get motivated to make art if you ever find yourself in a rut.

10. Put down the pencil

One of the most refreshing ways to give your creative juices a break is to take a break from making your art. Craving to make art is just as important as the process of actually making the art itself. This is very different and it is essential that you find the balance. When artist block comes along, you are essentially going to be the only person that is going to be able to help yourself when you need it. Ask other artists how they deal with artist’s block, and find healing ways for yourself to be able to put down the pencil every once in a while.

[stonedgeneral]

Switch: The Start

A/N: oh god i havent written in so long i dont even know how to do this anymore lmao

Synopsis: taehyung is hired to paint a mural for a high school. Jungkook is one of the students that volunteers to help and finds that he’s the only one interested.

Switch

He started this career path early, taking small jobs from small businesses. He never expected it to flourish the way it did…

–

Miss Fukuhara was a young Japanese art teacher. Every boy in her class was head over heels in love with her, including Kim Taehyung. He would bring her a flower from the school garden every morning, bowing with his arms extended forward, hands holding the dusty pink flower. Her smile every morning was worth it to him. The teasing he got from his friends was something he endured all four years of high school, just to make this young woman smile. He had childishly fallen in love with her, not knowing the repercussions that he would face if he were to ever succeed in wooing her over.

He didn’t even like art. He was good, yes, but only because his mother was talented. He took the class, thinking it was an easy A, his natural talent for both painting and bullshitting was good enough for him. But, like most bad plans, this one didn’t work out the way he expected. Miss Fukuhara saw his potential and encouraged him to sign up for the school art club, then submit his work to competitions, then to make extra money by commissioning his work. She was the sole reason why his half-ass interest in the arts grew to something bigger, to something way above his head.

He stayed after school most days, abusing the lenient rules placed upon the use of school art supplies. He found himself fully immersed in this hobby. If it weren’t such a good excuse to use when he wanted to see Miss Fukuhara, he probably would’ve thrown in the towel months ago. She would always stay after with him, occasionally watching over his shoulder as he sketched, completely engrossed in Taehyung’s talents.

“Have you ever worked with spray paint?” she asked one day. Taehyung lightly shook his head while letting out a soft grunt, telling her he hadn’t. She beamed, though he didn’t see it, he could hear it in her voice. “Then let’s do it. I haven’t worked with it either, and I feel like it would be a good project for the classes to do.” Taehyung paused, his paintbrush just barely touching his canvas.

“I think that would be a great idea.” He turned his attention back to the painting, lightly filling in the hair of the portrait. It was this moment, this brief conversation, that changed the course of his life.

–

Jungkook was, well, a child. At the ripe age of 14, he experienced a lot of change. It was his first year of high school, in a new city, with no one he knows around him, telling him it’ll be okay. But, he lucked out. As his first year dragged on, he found himself at the top, sitting with the popular seniors at lunch, playing with the popular sophomores during gym, and mingling with the popular juniors during the break between classes. He was excited, this was something new. It ignited something within him that he most likely would never have tapped into if his family hadn’t moved.

Before he knew it, the lanky boy he was when he started was long gone, replaced with a more confident, more masculine boy. He excelled in sports and charm, and was able to juggle the practices and tutoring sessions almost perfectly. But, as he got older, he found that he had tried all the sports, met all the people, and became bored. He convinced his parents to let him go abroad to America one summer, using that time to learn a bit of English and immerse himself fully into the dancing community.

This ignited the excitement. He was ready to explore the arts. He wanted to sing, dance, paint, play an instrument, anything new he could learn, he wanted to do it. His parents supported it, providing him the materials needed at a moment’s notice. Jungkook found himself at the top, but he was losing a grip on who he was. That lanky boy he was was completely obliterated by now.

He searched for an identity, somewhere to stay and become a grown up, but he was hitting a wall. Nothing was going up, he flatlined at the top a long time ago. There was nothing higher than where he was and he was craving to do something new.

–

His phone rang loud, ripping through the silence of Taehyung studio apartment. He scrambled for his cell phone, barely glancing at the caller ID before answering it.

“K-Kim Taehyung speaking?” he said, setting his paintbrush in the cup of water beside his canvas.

“Taehyung, this is Mrs. Fukuhara!” Her voice was sweet, warming Taehyung’s thin stature. The voice in the back of his head echoed back “Mrs.?”, but he pushed it back, the smile breaking through the sharp stab in his chest.

“Oh, hello! What can I do for you?” he asked, putting on his professional persona.

“I have a project for you. The school wants a mural painted on the wall outside the lunchroom, you know, the one facing the courtyard?” Taehyung hummed, letting her know he understood. “They wanted to hire a company, but I insisted that you should do it, since you were a student here. Are you up for the challenge?”

Taehyung thought about it. This would be the biggest piece he had ever done. It would be something completely different from what he’s used to doing.

“I’m down. What exactly is the school looking for in this mural?” Mrs. Fukuhara cheered, clearly ecstatic about Taehyung’s willingness to do this.

“They wanted something that reflects how the school impacts their students. I just think it’s perfect for you!” She was beyond excited and it radiated through the phone and to Taehyung. His initial hesitance faded as she continued, talking about how proud she was of him and how much she was looking forward to what he would come up with.

“Well, I should let you go. I think I’ve rambled about this long enough,” she chuckled lightly and they both bid their goodbyes. Taehyung hung up, the smile still stuck to his lips as he set his phone down. He picked up his brush and continued painting, the light strokes filling in petals of the dusty pink flower.

–

Taehyung arrived at the school first thing in the morning. He made his way through the crowd of students and towards the art room, where Mrs. Fukuhara would further explain the assignment. He knocked on the door, eyes immediately landing on the now mature woman. She was sitting at her desk, glasses sitting on her nose and fingers typing away at her computer. She glanced up and her look of concentration dissipated, soon being replaced by a large smile. Taehyung smiled back and walked into the room.

“Oh my, you look like a young man now…” she said, standing up to properly greet her old student.

“Well, I am 21 now,” Taehyung joked, bowing like he did when he was younger. “I, uh, also saw this as I was walking in and couldn’t help but pick it for you.” His wide smile turned to a shy one as he extended his arm out, hand holding a dusty pink flower. Mrs. Fukuhara gasped, a laugh following shortly after. She reached out to grab it and Taehyung took a quick glance at her hand, seeing the beautiful pearl wedding ring he had seen on Facebook.

“Why thank you, Taehyung. I miss getting your daily flowers.” She went to the back of the classroom, filling a paint covered glass with water and dropping the flower in it. She walked back towards her desk, placing it carefully in the back corner, just behind her monitor.

“Now, let’s get down to business,” she started, pulling out a manila folder. It contained all the information Taehyung needed to get started. She explained that since the mural is going to be  big, Taehyung may recruit volunteers. His materials can also be stored within the art classroom, so he doesn’t have to keep bringing them in and out of the school everyday.

“The school is paying you a lot of money for this mural,” Mrs. Fukuhara added, reminding him to act as if he were back in school. Taehyung nodded, understanding the rules placed upon him. “Now, go make art!” she joked, handing Taehyung the folder she was reading from. He left the classroom and headed towards the wall he would be working on for the next couple weeks.

–

“I’d also like to add that if any of you have an interest in helping with the school mural, go and see Mrs. Fukuhara. Thank you.” The loudspeaker shut off, leaving the class to buzz with casual conversation.

“School mural? What is she talking about?” someone asked. The teacher in the classroom stood, starting the class, paying no mind to the inquires about said mural. The class was hushed and Jungkook pulled his attention away from the window beside him to the front of the class. He tried to pay attention, but he couldn’t help but stare out the window. Today was not a day of concentration for Jungkook. He just wanted to retreat back into his room at home, lay in his bed, lights cut off, curtains closed. He sighed quietly, grabbing his pencil and marking down the homework.

A/N: do i end here? Is this even worth continuing? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i guess we’ll see

[jugheadonmymind-blog]

Strokes Like Speech - Jughead x Artist!Reader

This was requested so here you go! Hope you enjoy! :)

Your eyes flit up to Jughead, who’s seated a few tables away from you at Pop’s. You take in the tousled black hair that escapes his grey beanie, roving your eyes over his face and torso before looking back down at the sketchbook in your hands. You start to map out his features, hoping that you’ll be able to do him justice, humming to yourself quietly. You carry on in this manner for a few minutes, your pencil moving across the page with practiced ease, at least, until you look up and see Jughead looking straight at you. His frown deepens as he narrows his eyes, and you drop your gaze back to your sketchbook on the table.

Hearing him slam his laptop shut and slide out of the booth, you keep your head down and your eyes lowered, covering your sketchbook with your arms as you hear his footsteps nearing you. He clears his throat loudly and you’re forced to look up, meeting his expressionless eyes.

“Were you drawing me?” he asks, gesturing to the sketchbook.

“Er, yes,” you admit, “I was,”

He holds his hand out, clearly asking for the sketch, but you’re reluctant to give it to him. Would he be offended? Jughead Jones. Less than a friend, more than an acquaintance; someone you nodded at in the corridor and spoke to sometimes in class, but not someone you sat with during lunch or walked home with. He looks at you expectantly and you relinquish it to him, looking away and biting your cheek nervously as he inspects your incomplete drawing.

“Not bad,” he mutters, and your eyes snap to him.

He takes a seat opposite you, fingers on the corner of the page, ready to flip it.

“Can I have a look at the rest?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” you nod, your pulse beginning to race.

You watch him as he goes through your sketchbook, loving the way his expressions change with each piece, wishing you could capture it all. Like the way his lips would quirk up sometimes, or his eyes would widen before narrowing, or how expressive his eyebrows can be. It amazes you, how people would just disregard him and go straight for other guys, because if they actually took the time to look at him they’d realise that he’s actually rather attractive, in an understated sort of way. You saw him smile once; it was in class and you had muttered a witty retort under your breath at the teacher and he had heard you, snorting in amusement before breaking out in a smile, and ever since then you’re eyes couldn’t help but seek him out, wanting more.

“You’re staring again,” he states, and you snap out of your stupor, blushing furiously.

“Sorry,” you laugh sheepishly, “I just like watching you,”

His eyebrows shoot up, clearly surprised by your words.

“I mean, you’re nice to draw,” you try to correct, “You have a nice… face,”

“I have a…nice face…” he repeats slowly, trying to wrap his head around what you just said, “That’s the first I’ve heard of it,”

“I’ll stop if it bothers you, I —”

“It’s fine,” he interrupts, handing your book back to you, “I want to see it finished,”

Jughead was flattered, flattered but wary. He barely knew you. Up until this moment, you were just one of the nicer people in class who smiled at him and occasionally had casual conversations with. It almost felt too… intimate, you drawing him. Observing him closely, scrutining his features, studying the curve of his shoulders or the angle of his jaw, but he was intrigued. He wanted to see it completed.

“Really?” you whisper, incredulous, “You’ll have to keep relatively still, you know,”

“You can pay me my modelling fees by buying me a milkshake,” he smirks.

You raise your hand to flag a waitress but he hastily pulls it down, a smile playing on his lips.

“I was just kidding,”

You laugh, reaching for your pencil, getting ready to resume your sketch. Jughead remains surprisingly still for a few minutes, his eyes making a deliberate effort to avoid yours, but you purse your lips in displeasure. Something’s not right. He looks too stiff, too fake, not like the Jughead you were drawing minutes ago.

“Jughead, you’re too… It’s too…” you gesture vaguely with your hands.

He arches an eyebrow at you, “I’m just doing what you told me to do,”

“Hm,” you ponder, “Maybe if you just go back to doing what you were doing before?”

“You mean writing my novel?” he frowns.

“Yes!” you exclaim a little too enthusiastically, “That would be great,”

Jughead pulls out his laptop, setting it down on the table before him, and types. He doesn’t miss the little satisfied smile that crosses your face before you go back to sketching. He tries his best to ignore your eyes on him, but it gets more difficult with each passing minute, and before long, despite attempting to fight it, a grin begins to grow on his face.

“What’s up?” you chuckle, pencilling in his eyes.

“Nothing, this is just… weird,”

“Yeah,” you agree absentmindedly, focused on your work, “It kind of is, but we were created to look at one another, weren’t we?”

“Do you do this often?” he questions, “Draw people from afar?”

“Only those who attract me,” you mutter while struggling with his chin, not quite aware of the words that just passed your lips, and his grin widens.

A comfortable silence settles between the both of you, the only sound being the tapping of Jughead’s fingers on his keyboard and your quiet, melodious humming.

“I love your hair,” you murmur some time later, fully immersed in your work, words unconsciously spilling from your lips.

His eyes snap to you, feebly attempting to stop the corners of his lips from lifting.

“Hm, yes,” you nod lightly, “Just like that. Just like the first time,”

He frowns a little. Just like the first time? What do you mean? Were you referring to his smile? Jughead tries to think back to the first time he smiled at you, sorting through hazy memories, and he’s not sure but he thinks, he thinks, it might have been that time in class when you said something he never thought he’d hear you say that was surprisingly cleverly funny. It was that day when he started to pay you a bit more attention, his interests piqued, deciding there was more depth to you than you let on. His jaw slackens a little in disbelief, wondering if you’ve been watching him since then.

Just as he hits a small writer’s block bump, he hears you shift uncomfortably in your seat as you set your pencil down.

“Its… Done,” you beam gently, “It’s not that great but—”

He holds hand out, effectively silencing you.

It’s not any sort of impressive masterpiece but Jughead is still impressed nonetheless. In your sketch, he’s typing away on his laptop, a pleased smile evident on his face. It’s simplistic enough but your skill is evident in the soft pencil lines, and somehow you’ve managed to capture him.

“Can I keep this?” he blurts out.

You falter for a few moments, not expecting that response from him.

“Uh…”

“Or at least a photo of it?”

“Yeah sure,” your smile widens, “Of course,”

He pulls his phone out, snapping a quick photo of it before regarding you.

“You know,” he begins, looking straight into your eyes, “I’m here almost everyday after school,”

You tilt your head curiously. Is he really implying what you think he’s implying?

“And the seat opposite me is almost always empty,” he continues, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

You chuckle, “And what do you want for payment?”

He pauses for a moment, pondering over you question, wondering if you were being serious or not. He smirks at you, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Your conversation,”

The ‘We were created to look at one another, weren’t we’ is a quote from Edgar Degas.

And the title is actually from a quote from Van Gogh, ‘ The emotions are sometimes so strong that I work without knowing it. The strokes come like speech’

[doodlewash]

My name is Aliver Escano or “Esc” as my friends call me. I am from Cebu Philippines and I’m an avid sketcher and painter. My mother recalls that I used to imitate or redraw all her drawings when I was a toddler. These drawings were the settings and characters based on her storytelling.

She said that it easily caught my attention every time she started sketching while telling me a story. Since then, sketching was a daily habit during break time and after school hours. It was sort of a ritual before doing homework or projects and before dinner.

Basketbolan – Basketall Court

In college, I took up architecture, it was more of pen and ink with pen markers and colored pencil rendering. A few in watercolor and gouache rendering too. Very architectural and design oriented approach to sketching which molded my attention more on perspectives, proportion and scale.

Parola sa Lilo-an – Lighthouse in Lilo-an

When I was working in Singapore, I fell in love with the urban city setting. The old shop houses along with the skyscrapers that defined the city’s skyline gave me a sense of awe. The presence of the old strongly indicates Asian heritage, architecture and culture while the presence of the new and modern signifies progress and economy.

Cavenagh Bridge, Singapore – brushpen

Wasting no time, I got a pocket size sketchbook and sketched everyday – early in the morning, lunch breaks, after work and weekends. (please see video clip of the sketches I did in Singapore at the link below)

Amigo ni Lito – Lito’s Friend

In 2013, I went back to Cebu and continued working as an architect in a local firm and co-founded Urban Sketchers Cebu with Cholo who started a few years back. Every so often I go back to Singapore to visit my wife and joined Urban Sketchers Singapore. Together with fellow Bisaya friends Cholo, Uhky, Sonny and Gibrone we sketch and paint during Sketchwalks and free times.

Silingan sa Lilo-an – Neighbors in Lilo-an

In Cebu, I got interested in sketching Streetscapes where the presence of vernacular architecture blends naturally or at times in contrast to its surroundings. Though not as grand compared to any first world country but surely one of my favorite subjects.

Of course, not missing a few of the Heritage houses and buildings around the city, together with Urban Sketchers Cebu we go around and sketch them during our monthly sketchwalks.

I Handus para mo Abante – Push to Move Forward

Using mixed media, pen and ink with watercolor wash was easy and fast. But in 2016, I started practicing watercolor as a medium. It was a hype that I do it during lunch break and late evenings. Learning the techniques and styles was not easy. It needs constant practice, perseverance and patience. Despite it all, it was FUN. As a beginner it was easier doing it with small sketchbooks and A4 pads before shifting into larger formats.

Atobangan sa Baraderohan – Dry Dock Entrance

Before trying watercolor it is an advantage learning and mastering the basics of drawing and sketching. It only takes a little time everyday and can always be mastered through practice. It was a different scenario when I started watercolor as a medium. Honestly it was difficult to control and tricky compared to pen and ink with watercolor wash. From there I got to know the different materials to be used. Like the brands of watercolors, brushes, sketchbooks and watercolor papers.

Sketching and Painting Materials I’ve Used

I’ve used Fabriano, Strathmore and Moleskine sketchbooks. Lamy fountain pens, and Uni Pen Air is a very good and cheap substitute. Pentel brushpen for bold monochromatic strokes.

Rembrandt and Winsor & Newton watercolors for mixed media and watercolor sketches in sketchbooks and smaller formats. Daniel Smith watercolors for the bigger, large formats. Neef and Escoda brushes. Fabriano and Saunders Waterford watercolor paper for larger formats and recently using Baohong and Arches.

Cabantan

Dry Dock – brushpen

Currently, I am doing landscapes. Inspired by the rural terrain of the north which is just an hour ride from the city. It reminds me of the old town were people living simply – Fishermen and their small boats or “Bangka” preparing for the next catch, people swimming at the creek, huts or the modern “Bahay Kubo” sits nearby, domesticated farm animals like cows and goats move around freely, tricycle a local mode of public transportation roam over the dirt roads and children playing on the grassy field.

Patagan – Grassfields

It was like reminiscing the past as a kid where our place used to be similar to this, but now it is full of concrete and noise becoming like a metropolis. Now, it is where me and my kids would stay for the weekend (at my in-laws house) to keep us away from the city rush and experience what it was before, in the 80’s.

Until now, I am still practicing watercolor. Trying it at home, in every sketchwalk or plein air session while applying, not all, but a few techniques that I’ve learned. Framing, composition and scale are the few elements that I find useful in watercolor painting.

Framing – Focal point and Subject.

Composition – Forms and Shapes.

Scale –  Perspective and Proportion.

Payag Sa Bay-bayun – Seaside Hut

With all of these elements combined, It is best to simplify without going into intricate details. There were times when I just go spontaneous without thinking a lot. Setting up a mood, just enjoying and having fun. Making an impression out of it, using yellow instead of blue for the sky, orange for the tree, leaves and branches mixing with darks of purple, red and blue instead of green.

Adding elements like canopies, roofs, wires, twigs, people, vehicles or just lines and blots that came out of nowhere. Rub it, bleed it, scratch it, splash it … some would even spit on it. The essence is to have FUN.

Kahilum – Tranquil

I think that would be all. A big “Thank you!” to Charlie O’Shields for giving me the chance in sharing my views. I hope this can help in some way or another.

Aliver Escano Instagram Facebook Video Of Sketchbook Urban Sketchers Cebu, co-founder Urban Sketchers Singapore, member

GUEST ARTIST: "Millennial Landscape Series - Between Urban and Rural" by Aliver Escano - #doodlewash #WorldWatercolorGroup #urbansketchers #usk #watercolor #watercolour My name is Aliver Escano or "Esc" as my friends call me. I am from Cebu Philippines and I'm an avid sketcher and painter.