#the pigment difference ????? all the same pencils

[duskerot]

everyone ignore how bad the picture quality is here ok my lighting is bad

Anyway. look how huge of a difference sealant layers make ???

[hwajin]

☆°. — ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs ᴘᴀsᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ | hhj

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x afab!reader

𝐰𝐜: 3.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, cumming inside

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is barely proof read AND inspired by the bathrobe look in paris but also hyunjin in milan 🫶 hope you like it <333

You could feel his gaze on you. On your figure, your body. On your whole. The clear sound of his 2B pencil dancing along the cheap, store-bought paper echoed quietly in contrast to the music playing somewhere in the back, from the radio, or one of your phones, or from outside your hotel room altogether — it didn’t much matter to you, for his gaze on your body, on your figure, on your whole was all that did.

You weren’t sure if he was aware that you were aware — his eyes on you, the pencil scratching against the paper; you knew you were the object for his current spurt of creativity. The object of his inspiration. The object of his works — his very own and personal muse. You knew, and the knowledge, the very thought alone, made you dizzy, made you lose track of the sentence you were reading in the tour guide provided by the hotel.

Milan was beautiful. You were working your way through page after page, taking in museums and cathedrals, art galleries you knew Hyunjin would die to see. One page, his gaze on you, long, intimate, longing. Another page, eyeing the ‘Pinacoteca di Brera’, putting in a bookmark to later show him, and you felt his eyes on you again. Unbudging. Persistent. He either was unsure of your anatomy, or simply enjoyed to stare.

“I can feel you staring, you know.”

You looked up, and your eyes momentarily locked with his own, dark ones. Sparking. Speaking, without words. His hair had dried a good bit ever since he’d stepped out the shower, the white bathrobe snug loosely around his naked body leaving only so much to imagination. You looked at him, smiling, teasing, and he stared back — aware, and smug. His eyes wandered down to his art again — faint strokes of your face adorning the page and you wondered what had moved Hyunjin to capture you in this very moment — it was mundane, the moment, and you didn’t look any bit different – or, better, for that matter – than you did any other day. You were reading a tour guide, lazy, tired, solemn — you wondered where he saw the beauty in that.

“I know. I don’t mind that you can feel it.”

A pang to your heart, and he looked up from his page again, after adding lines here and there which as though magically transformed into plasticity, into your eyes and nose and mouth. You were fascinated by his art. You grew bashful at his words. And you were enamored by his eyes, his face. His whole; the way he looked. Milan was beautiful — but suddenly you forgot all about the tour guide, about the trip here you had bought for his birthday. You forgot all about the sights and museums and art galleries, for he sat across from you, sight enough, creating the only art you ever wished to look at.

You were sure you blushed, your skin acquainting the same colour of the roses blooming on the table in a vase. You could smell them, their scent spreading all around and luring you into depths so captivating you wanted to exist in them for eternity.

Only now you noticed the red paint by your lover’s side, only after thorough inspection of him. He parted his eyes from your own with a grin and continued on his drawing — on your drawing, ultimately, because you knew he’d gift it to you after finishing touches —; his hands reached after the brush laying beside his paper, and with a dip into beforehand-prepared water he activated the red colour, and let it swim across white paper. You couldn't take your eyes off him. You couldn’t take your eyes off the way his hands controlled the paint on his canvas, how the pigment drowned and spread and melted against the grey lines of pencil. Taking everything in, swallowing details, yet enhancing the object of the art, enhancing features of your face. Your cheeks suddenly shone red now on the white paper — and maybe it had been his aim after all, to make you shy, to make you bashful. Reality materialised onto paper, into art. Love did, for every brushstroke, every further pigment of red paint on white canvas meant love, for every further gaze of his, for reference or his own enjoyment you weren’t sure, meant adoration.

It took Hyunjin far longer to finish the painting than he had intended it to. Not because he was struggling with it — drawing you in all shapes and forms was a second nature to him by now —, and not because of exterior reasons altogether. Yet he sat and painted, away and away, adding a line here, colour there, watching you go back to the tour guide; he was sure that it could not possibly take you so long to finish it. That you were spending far too much time on each page, that you were eyeing Hyunjin far too often after every other sentence you read. That it wouldn’t possibly take you so long to inspect sights and places — but that you and him were set on the same mission, seemingly, on the same, interior goal. Finishing the tour guide, completing the painting — meant ending the moment. Ending the tranquility, discarding, ultimately, from admiring the other in the golden light of the slowly setting sun, shadows of trees and buildings casting paintings on your faces. The moment would end, the sun would set, would stop drowning the ebony furniture in your hotel room in golden showers, snow-white bed sheets in warm rays.

You looked up; Hyunjin looked at you, inspecting, one second, another, before he went back to his painting, as concentrated as he had stared at you. You let your eyes wander to somewhere behind him — you looked out the western window, which blind’s didn't do well in saving you from the blinding sun, though you wouldn't have wanted them to, admired the sunset, the city that laid in it, the foreign neighbourhood, the white sky. Maybe Hyunjin caught beauty there — the rich sun on your face. Your sparking eyes, your gleaming expression. Almost sacred, solemn. Meant for only the two of you.

You caught glimpse of the broken clock on the wall behind him, showing fifteen minutes past four — it had been showing fifteen minutes past four for the past two hours now. Or for the past three? How much later was it now, ever since you had settled into the hotel room? The sun had long started to set behind the horizon, though it had stood at its highest spot when you had first entered the single bedroom for two; yet maybe no time had passed at all. Maybe in his presence love was eternal, unending.

You stood up. You had been looking at Hyunjin for far too long; had been only looking at him, inspected his every move, reciprocated his every long, fixed stare, shuddering beneath it simply. You had studied his ever-drying dark hair, his ever-parting bathrobe, his naked collarbones, his paint-laced fingers. The way he stared you down, the way he left you vulnerable and naked with as much as a gaze – and you felt touch starved. His eyes burned on your skin, though it wasn’t sensation enough to satisfy you – you needed more of him. You would always need more of him.

Hyunjin’s eyes followed your figure as you made your way over to him. Without a rush, walking slowly; you bore all the time the world had to offer in your palms, it felt. You walked slowly, yet the scent of the red roses you passed filled Hyunjin’s senses in the breeze your movements created. The floral sensation all around him, your nearing body, your leisure attire, your hazy eyes – he was convinced this moment alone, the sight of you, the golden sun as though casting a halo above your figure, drowning you in warmth and beauty and love, this moment alone was entirely enough to eradicate each and every of his needs, any wish he’s ever wished and any promise he’s ever made; for this moment alone, and your heaven-sent presence was enough to fulfill all. Needs, wishes, promises. If it was you he could look at for eternities, if it was your body he’d have the privilege of holding close for the end of times he would never dare to ask of anything else.

The red paint on Hyunjin’s paper slowly dried out as you finally stood before him. It wasn’t, Hyunjin thought, the roses on the table in a vase which sent their scent across the room, after all – it was you. You smelt of roses. You smelt of vanilla, of red paint, of smoke, of Milan, now that you stood before him, now that he looked up at you, from beneath glasern eyes. You smelt like you, and you smelt like him; traces of his scent and his touch and his promise on your skin, and Hyunjin basked in it.

You didn’t waste much time before you made moves to take a seat on his lap; and not only did Hyunjin realize your attempts momentarily, he also embraced you without as much as hesitation. He found himself drowning in the feeling of your weight on him, allowing you to swallow him whole, allowing you to let your eyes explore. You let them wander from his face to his neck, from his protruding collarbones to his pointy shoulders – the white bathrobe was almost mocking now, doing so little in covering the man that it was nothing but ironic.

And you felt his hands on you, your body. Secure, sure of their position on your hips. Tall fingers, spacey palms; you felt their entirety on your body, and your red heart picked up its’ speed at that.

And you touched him, too. Your hands, cool and soft, found home on his face, each palming a cheek, closing him in. Your thumbs caressed his flush skin, tickled near his eyes, reached towards his parted lips, his hungry lips. Hyunjin looked at you, let you touch him, his face. Let you look at him. Let you make him wait on the kiss he so badly needed, let you bask in him, for he enjoyed nothing more than that.

Your eyes met, and you weren’t sure who granted the first smile, but both your mouths turned upwards, curling into softening features. Roses, red paint, Milan outside the window; though this moment contained of only you and him, and the broken clock, fifteen minutes past four, timelessness. You showed your teeth, your eyes squinting with your smile, and Hyunjin’s were the same.

“Hi.”

A whisper against quiet music and honking cars, angry passengers outside, and Hyunjin reciprocated with a chuckle. Then, a whisper as soft as the prior one, “Hi.”; and he pulled you in. Or maybe he reached for you, longed for you. Or maybe you both moved only enough for your lips to connect, finally, in soft passion. Vigorously, though not in haste, not in roughness. Forcefully, rather, impatiently forceful as you let your tongue dart out of your mouth so it could explore his, and it didn’t take the man as much as a minute to welcome you in, to invite you into himself. And you let your tongue dance with his own, in a waltz, or something faster than that, something less rhythmic – something freer. Your hands stood ground on his body, fingers digging into his shoulder as his dug into your flesh, in covered flesh by your aching hips. Your mouths moved against one another sloppily, and teeth dragging across lips, tongues easing off the sting right after, wet, loud, swallowing any sound which slipped past your throats. Quiet, still timid, breathy sighs which tasted of chocolate and shaky moans which were barely audible against exterior noise. You saw stars behind your eyelids – if because you squeezed them shut so tight it hurt, or because Hyunjin’s touch on your body, the bite he had just placed on your lower lip, and the way he pulled away right after, only for a second, less than that, to admire you with a smile before diving back into you, you weren’t sure, but there were stars all the same. Stars, and Hyunjin, darkening Milan behind the hotel room windows. Fifteen minutes past four. Timelessness.

Hyunjin pulled you closer. Impatience, or simply the need to have you nearer, more flushed against his body than you already were. His hands lay strong on your body, and he pulled you in, your cores coming in contact, hot, ignited, searching for more than this. Than clothed touches, more than the faint feeling of his erection against your sex. More than his hands in your hair, entangling long, warm fingers there, more than his teeth bruising your lips. You’d always want more – and you were glad that Hyunjin was no different. For his hands wandered, and his lips with them, kissing and nibbling where his fingers danced upon – your neck, your shoulders, then, your chest, unbuttoning your shirt one by one, not without a kiss to your skin with every further act of undressing. One button, a kiss, a gaze up to you beneath his lashes, a faint smile, a smug grin at your scrunched brows and staggered breath. Another button, another kiss, and his gaze fell back to your chest, watching your ever-exposing body, so impatient in his seat yet so unrushed. Taking his time. Feeling your bosom rise and fall against his lips, hearing your breath, your sighs, your heartbeat. Feeling hot – your skin was burning, your body was, and Hyunjin with it.

Your shirt was discarded onto the floor. Long forgotten, along with your shorts; Hyunjin’s bathrobe lay leisurely around him, half-opened, only carelessly shoved off his body yet not having borne enough patience to fully free him from it. Though neither of you cared. You let the fabric hang off the chair you were sitting on, the softness of it the only thing touching your skins besides each other's skin. You were closer now, much closer than before, though you barely deemed it possible. You sat right atop Hyunjin’s erection, his right hand resting against your inner thigh – he wasn’t touching yet, only teasing to, and your body grew hotter yet, needier. Your hips searched for friction, your fingers dug into Hyunjin’s scalp with a force which made the man groan out in deep satisfaction, and you kissed him with a fervor enough to move oceans – and he drowned in it, gave into you, kissed you back as feverishly, as messily.

He touched you, too. Finally, eventually, and you muffled a loud moan at the unexpectedness of it. Two fingers against your clit as Hyunjin’s tongue entered your mouth, as he forced your tongue to push against his own – to which you obliged, gladly. You moaned into him as you reciprocated his kiss, grinded your hips into his touch, into his hand. He answered with a sigh, with fingers which increased their speed, with a bite against your lower lip. It ought to hurt by now, your lower lip, with the way he was nibbling at it, though you believed that your body was immune to feel pain in relation to your lover. So, he bit away, nibbled on the sweet spot of your neck, on the lobe of your ear only to moan right into it, to send shivers down the entirety of your body, and you let him. And there was no better feeling, you believed.   

You disconnected your lips from his. There was a second where his mouth searched for yours, where his body hadn’t yet registered the emptiness your parting left, but then he looked at you, leaned back in his chair, eyes glassy, fingers circling around your clit slowly, mindlessly. As though it was a bodily reaction, an instinct. As though he wasn’t actively aware of his movements at all. His breath hitched in his throat, and he looked a mess – pupils blown out, eyes dark as night, hair disheveled, mouth red and puffed and bruising. There were faint love bites blooming on his neck already, ones that would turn a deep red, or a deep purple by the next morning. The sun had almost set behind the horizon, was casting its’ last, weak rays upon the planet – and those last, weak rays of golden light seemed all to land on the man beneath you. He shone, almost golden himself, chest and cheeks flushed red, and he was glowing. Glowing in the way he looked at you, glowing the smile he granted you, genuine, true. He waited on you, waited on a kiss, or on something else, something more, maybe. Yet he let you stare at him, let you admire him in the last, weak rays of sunshine that seemed to have been saved up for him, solely – and then you kissed him, unable to resist wide eyes and longing mouth, and he kissed you back. Touched you, and you let your hands wander down his body, not missing a single line on it, not missing an inch before your hand palmed his crotch. You could sit and kiss him forever, could bask in him and his body for eternity – but you were impatient, too, especially when it came to him, to your lover. When it was him, you lost control of yourself, of your body, of your soul. It belonged to him entirely, all of it.

He let you sink onto him. Hyunjin let you bury your face in the sweatiness of his neck, in its’ sensitivity, let you groan out into his ear as you felt him bottom out entirely. He let you adjust to him, and you let him hold you, against him, against his body, your heart against his own, chest to chest. You let him whisper sweet nothings, promises, and confessions, and entire worlds. You loved his never tiring tongue in moments of intimacy – he talked and talked and talked, words sweeter than honey could ever be, and sounds more sinful than anything you’d ever known.

You screamed out when he moved. Thrusting his hips into your own, up and deeper inside of you, and you struggled to keep your composure. Your arms snug tightly around his body, around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer – you melted into one as he kept moving into you, both hands keeping a steady position on your hips, to hold you in place, or to grant you stability, or to grant himself some. And the room erupted into a symphony of your voices, of your moans and grunts and sighs, whispers and whines of each other’s names. Your senses filled with everything that was him – his voice, deep and longing and loud in your ear, his hand bruising your flesh, groping at you so harshly you saw stars, his scent, his golden body, his mouth on your skin. Everything was him, his erection so very deep within you that it almost hurt, though not quite, his right hand which suddenly found its’ way to your clit again. Drawing figures eight there impatiently as his hips grew frantic, slowly losing rhythm.

Your body ignited. It was hot, it was wet and a mess, and it was fifteen minutes past four. The broken clock on the wall behind Hyunjin capturing you two in its’ timelessness, in its infinity. It had stopped solely for you, for your love, for your souls. Your eyes closed shut when Hyunjin bit against your neck, when his teeth grazed your skin just deep enough to not break it, to not draw blood, and you came against his body in shaking waves, with a broken moan which was swallowed by the man in an instant. You felt him fill you up as he groaned into the kiss, as he let his tongue enter your mouth in lazy manner, careless now of sloppiness, of the lack of coordination. He held you close, he thrusted into you tiredly, he let you hold him. He let you kiss him, just as tired, just as lazy, basking in him, in his taste, in his scent.

Milan was beautiful. Night began to drown the city in darkness, buildings and trees, cars and people and the world losing color, quieting down. But it was still fifteen minutes past four – and you sat in Hyunjin’s hold for an eternity longer, in hushed giggles and shy confessions, and loved each other throughout the entirety of the night.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

[thefandomsfervent]

Personal Pigments Viktor x Reader (Part 1) - Cadmium Yellow Deep Hue

Heimerdinger forgets to warn the science bros that an artist is coming in to visualize them and Hextech, a collaborative program between a Piltover art school and the academy for some new hall meant to be unveiled at an upcoming progress day. Large paintings can take years to do, with Hextech’s promising growth they are to be started in a preemptive manner. Reader is from Zaun, not sure what I’m going to do with this yet. Takes place in the coming months after they first get council approval, hexgates aren't complete. Wrote an imagine (here) and now I’m needing to see it through, would y’all want more?

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

Viktor should be focusing. He is, but not on the right thing. His hands still fiddle with cogs as he looks to you for the umpteenth time this hour. Your brows were furrowed together as you compared pastels and pencils together.  Your lips pursed to the side as if you were biting your cheek in concentration. He would have been worried about being caught starting but your focus was elsewhere.

You had papers clipped to a drawing board in front of you.  The stool you usually sat on abandoned by the small table next to you.  He watched as your hands turned colored sticks over, looking for something. He didn't know what, but he appreciated the view regardless. 

In this summer heat the lab was humid, Jayce had gone out for water and Viktor himself had forgone his vest. You were starting to sketch something in wide yellow strokes, the smooth scrape of pressed pigment to paper filling the heavy air. You hummed a sound of affirmation, as if finally approving your choice before grabbing another stick in blue. As you continued your efforts, he took in all of you. A loose button up over a tank top, well fitting trousers, simple boots. The same attire you'd worn for weeks, but today something was different. The tank-top was a lower,  looser cut. Likely chosen for the heat plaguing Piltover this summer. Your warming up sketches facing a daylit window. 

“Composition, speed, and colour work.” The words you had said months ago lingering in the back of his mind. “You can never practice too much.”

He sees you from the side, the strap had been half way off your shoulder all morning. Innocent enough. Not truly your fault in any way.  

The white over shirt unbuttoned. Also loosely caught by your elbows, draping over your work surface. Picking up colors and dust. He follows the sleeves up to your hands, to your arms. He should be working. Reading a section in another overdue library book. Not watching you. Not following the gentle way you pick up and set down your pastels, certainly not the way today’s heat has exposed your neck, your shoulders, your collarbones and how they lead to the hollow of your neck. He looks away for a moment. Steeling himself. 

Surely he is not ogling you. That would be inappropriate. Yes, it has been a long time since he has been able to indulge in thoughts of that manner. But he shouldn't start down that kind of path here.

A clattering sound pulls his gaze back to you, a soft curse leaving your lips as you have to bend down to grab a pencil that rolled off your desk. His breath catches in his throat, your tanktop drooping lower when you lean down. The swell of your breasts, the curve of your bra revealing itself in a sinful second. The moment was very quick, and to his luck you didn't notice. The lab door opens as Jayce walks in. Ice cold water in a pitcher, three glasses on a tray. 

He sets one down on your desk looking over your shoulder. "The window today?"

"Just something quick, the sun is hitting the glass just right." You punctuate your sentence with the wave of a pencil towards the shaft of light illuminating a stack of books.

"I see," he says as he walks over to one of the many messy tables near you to set down the tray. He brings another glass to viktor. If he notices the red flushing his partner's face he doesn't say.  Maybe he assumed it was this wretched heat. In a way, it was the fault of the weather. 

"Thank you," Viktor says, just before he downs the whole glass. 

He gets an acknowledging pat on his shoulder before Jayce settles in his own station.  Each of you returning to your own work. The silent hum of drawing and tinkering becomes a soothing balm on the room, and on the tension in his shoulders. He fiddles with his engraver, marking runes onto various metal bits. He wonders to himself how he even got into this position. How he finds his thoughts, and apparently his eyes, wandering to you. 

He remembers that first day, how many months has it been since you’ve come here? 

╚═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╝

-------------------.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ Part 2.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .---------------------

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

[pityroadart]

since the tags on my Lewis hands painting have mostly been along the lines of #WATERCOLOR?! HOW? (thank you!!) I figured I may as well do a wee step by step of how I painted the skin)

(disclaimer: I did not take many photos of the different stages, so you'll just have to trust the power of my narration)

(above) first up: the reference was from the Met Gala, as posted on Lewis Hamilton's Instagram. I can't take credit for the framing/pose — that was all the photographer

here's my cleaned up sketch and the first couple layers — I did a wash of colour on the hands first (quin burnt sienna PO48 quin maroon PR209 pigments my beloved, the best for warmer/deeper skin tones), added in a layer of shadows in the same colour to build structure, then got the inky black background in (mostly burnt umber PBr7 & French ultramarine PB29 I believe, with a bit of Roman Szmal's shadow grey too)

I kinda wish I'd left the background like that, but hey this whole piece was an experiment so I'll learn from it next time

next I added in further shading to the hands — again with the same skin tones as before, in different concentrations depending on the area, with the addition of some redder and darker tones too where needed. I also painted in the tattoos here — making sure they're under a layer or two of watercolour settles them into the skin like a real tattoo, rather than them looking sharpied on

And then! this is where the magic happens, and the part I'm most pleased with: by the stage of the first image above, the shadows were great in terms of position/shade, but felt a bit too blocky and stylised for the piece. So, if you get to the same issue (whether painting skin or clothing or anything with softer and more rounded contours), what you wanna do is:

make a pool of incredibly diluted skin tone mix on your palette. Literally, just water with a subtle hint of colour, roughly the same value as your highlights

get your softest brush. Nope, softer than that. In watercolour brushes, 'springy' is the opposite to 'soft', so you want bristles that don't really bounce back to their original shape if you push the wet brush against a firm surface. I'm using the Silver Black Velvet brush I've been using for the whole painting, but ideally a squirrel/sable or synthetic sable brush is gonna work

gently paint that diluted skin tone wash over the whole of the area (the hands, in this piece). This is why you want your softest brush, so as not to disturb the paint underneath too much. It also helps if the pigments you've been using are more staining (resistant to lifting). In general, phthalos and quinacridones are most staining, and granulating pigments least so. I've been using earth quinacridones here, which are moderately staining. Using good quality 100% cotton paper also helps

before that diluted wash is dry, get some paper towel and dab out the highlights. This keeps the edges softer and more natural than if you just painted around them

the wash you applied should have been just enough to soften those hard edges of shading you had previously, leaving lovely soft and more realistic transitions. Ta-dah!

then, off-camera, I added the darkest shading, painted in the gold, and felt it was missing something so added some scribbly highlights in 'ivory' coloured pencil. And that's that! It did involve a lot more swearing and complaining than I've just made it seem, but the skin part at least was something I'm used to.

[sanhatipal]

"Noble d'Apchier"

A little watercolor painting of Chloe,with the Zorn palette! I found out about this palette a while ago and I really wanted to try it out! (More on that below )

Chloe's hair is something I adore, it's gotta be one of my absolute favourite character designs ever,I love how swirly and fluffy it is,very fun to draw. I've drawn her normally before,I wanted to do one with her vampire eyes and fangs too. I decided to try to draw a white fuzzy rim around the foreground against the plain background,for a change,like in some of the VnC panels.

The Zorn palette,or Apelles Palette was a colour scheme used by Anders Zorn in the late Victorian/Early Edwardian era. It ,or something similar,might have been used by artists of old civilizations too, because it avoids the use of blue and green entirely: which would eliminate the need for rare pigments . It's essentially a colour mixing challenge,to draw the entire paintings with 4 pigments,2 basic colours: Ochre yellow, Vermillion,and Black and white,which can be mixed into different shades. It can be an excellent exercise and means for portrait painting

Modern artists use red instead of vermillion,but the essence is the same. So that's what I did too. I considered using vermillion,but I realised that it would introduce a lot of yellow tint, making the picture very warm. Which is usually something I prefer honestly,but not what I was going for here. Also,I need to consider the fact that I'm a watercolour artist,which is very different from the original intended palette. Zorn used oil paints,but other artists use it fine for gouache and acrylic too, however,that too is different from watercolor, because instead of mixing with white, I'll be diluting with water,which changes the composition of the palette considerably. So I went with these supplies: ochre yellow and red watercolor pencils (for me, basically watercolor pigments,I don't use them to draw,I grind and dissolve them in water),white and black watercolor tubes,and white ink. In addition: lineart with sepia,grey and black brush pens,which are well within the bounds of the palette

To be honest,I ended up not using the white paint tube at all,water makes more sense to me. I didn't use anything else though,and stuck with the original materials.And the results:

Does it work? Hell yeah. It's not perfect,but I'm happy with how she turned out

Was it restricting? That's kind of the point,to paint with some limitations

Was it hard? Honestly? No. Not at all. It's definitely very different from what I'm used to,I use a lot of colours both as is and mixed,but this was surprisingly easy. Perhaps because of my subject,which didn't have much colour to begin with

Do I recommend it? If you want a small challenge,or to experiment or practice colour mixing,definitely

Will I do it again ? Absolutely. I feel like I haven't utilised much of the potential of this palette. I ended up using mainly red and black, hardly any yellow at all. So I'd like to do something more colourful with this palette, perhaps a sunny painting of a gingerhead girl with flowers,and for this I'll probably use vermillion,not red

Anyways, that's all! If you read all this,thank you for your time!!

[thickness-protection-program]

this might be a stoopid question but do different colored pencils work differently

Not a stupid question at all! And yesyesyesyes no two brands of colored pencils are the same and I cannot stress that enough. Yes brands may be similar or nearly identical but from my experience none work the exact same. Some are creamier, some are more buttery, some are drier, softer, harder, scratchier, and some even work more like crayons or oil pastels. Some have more pigment than others and some have more binder. I could literally write a thesis on colored pencils bc the pencil world is so vast

[mxnkeydo]

so scarlet (it was maroon) ✧ sokeefe

✧ ship: Sophie x Keefe

✧ what to expect: it all went down went a book went soaring across the classroom but sophie never expects it to end the way it does. acrylic smeared on cheeks, pigment-stained clothes, and a whole keefe sencen later, maybe she never despised him as much as she thought she did.

✧ genre: romance, fluff, humor, sarcasm - enemies to lovers trope, human au, and a love triangle to torment you guys 😈

✧ word count: 2.5K

✧ warnings: slight swearing

✧ link to masterlist

✧ taglist: @swans-chirping-in-the-distance @somerandomhuman080 @foxglove-and-foxfire-lover @carolineforbae @yourtwistedlies (lmk if you want to be added!)

✧ A/N: been a long time since i updated so its probably trashy but here you go!!

***

CHAPTER NINE

In the mornings, Foxfire academy was a hustle of frantic students getting ready for class, their bags like heavy boulders stuffed with binders and papers and whatnot. Amongst all the students, Sophie Foster paced in front of her locker, waiting for a certain someone to show up. And by “someone”, she meant Keefe Sencen.

Keefe was never late. Not once in the time that she knew him was he ever tardy to anything (except for when he ditched classes; then he was absent entirely). So when the bell rang and he still didn’t make an appearance, she sighed and dragged herself to her first class–math. Walking her to AP calculus was a routine–a tradition, even. Afterwards, Keefe would go the same way they came to his physics class in another hallway. Sophie used to insist he didn’t have to go through all that trouble, but now, his absence was jarring. It had her thoughts racing.

He didn’t make it to school late either, which only spiked her worry. Fitz tried to ease her anxiety, but something was wrong, she knew it. She could feel it. After lunch, she walked to art alone, settling in her seat with a frown. The desk next to her would usually be filled with Keefe’s slender figure and he’d be constantly pestering her with sarcastic remarks. Sometimes, she even wished he’d simply just go away. But now that he really was gone, Sophie wished he’d be back again.

Something was wrong, her gut was telling. Something was really wrong.

Art passed by in a blur, and when the final bell rang, Sophie absentmindedly rose from her chair and made her way towards the exit. She was one step away from leaving when–

“Miss Foster? A word.”

Sophie startled and made her way over to Ms. Clarette’s desk, shoving her hands in her hoodie pockets.

“Yes?”

“How are the sessions going?” She asked, resting her chin on his hands.

“Oh. Yeah, they’re–they’re going good. Great, actually.” For the first time, Ms. Clarette smiled genuinely. It turned her into a whole different person from the strict teacher she normally knew.

“Yes, I can see that. Your artwork has been getting better, Sophie. Are you and Mr. Sencen still at each other’s necks?”

Sophie raised her eyebrows, surprised at the question. “Um- no. We’re–we’re good now.” Ms. Clarette smiled as if she’d anticipated that answer.

“Good.” She looked down at the stack of papers on her desk with a red pencil in hand, ready for a long afternoon of grading. “I’m glad. You may leave, Miss Foster.”

Sophie released the breath she’d unknowingly held, sighing deeply as she made her way down the hall. Usually she’d stop for a chat with Linh, maybe admire another one of Dex’s contraptions, but she had no time for that now. She had somewhere to be. 

Exiting the school through the main doors, she turned right instead of the usual left to her house. It wasn’t a long walk to Keefe’s place, but every second she had to wait made her more restless. Another left and a right turn later, she arrived in front of his house. She looked at the dead plants in the front yard, the oval windows on the building, and then–

Sophie’s gaze wandered to the sky, and when she saw a black, hunched figure on the roof, she squinted, blocking out the sun’s glare with her hand. Sitting on the roof somberly was none other than Keefe himself. Sophie thought about calling out, but she’d only succeed in pushing herself farther away from him. Instead, she opened the front door of the house and carefully walked in. The main hall was dusty and lifeless. An antique vase on the kitchen counter held the remains of withered flowers and their rotten stems. Paintings hung on the walls, but they were veiled with white cloths so their contents weren’t visible to any passerby. It was eerily pristine. Ghostly, even. It was as if no one had lived here in a while.

Sophie walked past all of that and climbed the stairs, skipping two steps at a time. She burst into Keefe’s room at the end of the second floor hallway, and was immediately hit with his familiar scent, that same cologne he’d started wearing along with his natural smell of musty books. It was strange when Sophie really thought of it, but it was oddly comforting. His room was more of a mess than usual; scattered books, stray pen and brushes all over his unmade bed, clothes strewn over his cluttered dresser. Sophie could barely even make it to the other side of the room without stepping on anything. She  tiptoed around the bed to avoid kicking or destroying anything on the floor, but–

Spohie hissed quietly as her something sharp dug into her foot, something under the bed. She glanced down at the sharp, blue edge poking out from beneath the satin valance. Snooping was probably not the best idea, Sophie knew that, but her curiosity won her over and she gingerly pulled the object out from under the bed.

It was painting, Sophie soon realized as she marveled at it. A beautiful painting, maybe even more beautiful than the ones hanging in Keefe’s secret art room. But if it was one of his best pieces of art, why was it under the bed? Shouldn’t it be up on the wall somewhere? Sophie ran one hand across the painting, its texture bumpy against her palm. If he closed her eyes, she was sure she could imagine the scene in the painting – the white lilies at the bottom of the canvas, the faint caws of the birds overhead, the meadow of tall grass that would graze her bare legs as she walked. The clouds drifting in the sky, the pink and blue and purple trokes of the sunset. It would be a lazy day, where she would run through the expanse without a care in the world.

There was only one thing that rattled her mind.

Keefe had painted a girl standing in the grass. A girl with blonde tresses and a pink sweater and a white skirt, staring off at the horizon. And was she losing her mind, or was she wearing that same exact outfit when she and Keefe had their first tutoring session? 

She was probably insane. Hell, she was definitely insane.

But…she had quite the reason to believe that it was her. It was her, standing in the field, with a faint smile playing on her lips. In the painting, she was more beautiful than Sophie could ever wish to be.

The thought popped into her mind with no warning.

Do I really look like that to him?

It evaporated as soon as it appeared, but it had Sophie reeling. As much as she wanted to sit down and stare at it for forever, Sophie carefully stuffed it back under Keefe’s bed, her heart beating in her ears like a deafening drum.

The real question here was, how did Keefe get onto the roof? His bedroom had no openings other than the main door. No windows, no chimney–nothing. It was impossible, Sophie had concluded, when she realized there was more to his room than one could see.

She stepped over to the mahogany bookcase, shoving her side against it, praying it would budge. To her luck, it began to move with every push, slowly but surely revealing the same door Keefe had opened for her with a flourish when he first tutored her. She barged in like a woman on a mission, but then stumbled back as she coughed, dust rising all around her. It took a while to clear, and when she could finally see, Sophie studied the room keenly. Everything was just as she remembered; dark, homey, and incredibly messy. But the difference? There was a cold draft coming in through somewhere. Sophie perked up once she felt the wind dance across her skin, raising goosebumps on her arms. Surging forward, she threw open the curtains at the far side of the little room.

The round window was wide open, allowing Sophie to see the colors of the vibrant sunset. She peered down and immediately regretted it, groaning. Her fear of heights was most definitely not helping this situation.

But what if Keefe was in trouble? Based on Cassius’s disappearance and his son’s absence, Sophie could only guess what he was going through. Besides, she saw the way Keefe flinched when he flexed his shoulder a while ago. She could’ve asked, but she hadn’t wanted to pry into personal issues. But if they affected him like this—isolating himself, not responding to any of her concerned texts, maybe it was time she stepped in. 

With a shallow breath, she poked her head out of the window again, this time with caution. Maybe there was a ladder somewhere that she could climb. But as far as Sophie could see, there was no ladder. Only a large, black pole in arm’s length. 

It hit her like a lightning bolt. Of course Keefe had climbed up the pole to the roof, being the daredevil he was. And now she had to do the same.

Gulping, she sat down on the windowsill, trying her best not to look down. Once both hands were planted on the pole, she jumped and wrapped her legs around it, yelping. After letting herself get comfortable, she began to make her way up.

Idon’twannadiepleasedon’tletmedie, Sophie thought frantically, wondering if God could hear her from above. She hugged the pole for dear life as she climbed higher and higher from the ground. About halfway, she almost lost her step and let out a strangled cry as she tried to regain balance. The next half of the climb, she scurried up as fast as she could, deciding to get it all over with.

Finally, finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, she neared the edge of the roof. Eagerly, she reached out for it and pulled herself up, grunting.

Sophie clambered up onto the roof, careful not to make any noise. Keefe was on the other end of the roof, and if she didn’t startle him, maybe he’d open up.

It was bound to happen; she took only one step forward but the sole of her sneakers slipped against the shingles. Sophie shrieked, falling forward on her knees. She lay there, panting. Because if she’d fallen just a little more to the left, she would’ve plummeted to her death.

Keefe’s lean figure whipped around at the commotion. Damn it, Sophie, she berated herself, staring at his wild, bloodshot eyes.

“Sophie?” He breathed, a wrinkled appearing between his brows.

“Keefe.”

“Sophie…” Keefe’s voice broke halfway and he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He frantically wiped the tears from his face. “You’re–you’re not supposed to be here.”

“You’ve had quite the influence on me, then.”

Even in his miserable state, he broke into a soft smile. “Guilty.”

Sophie carefully walked to where he was and sat down beside him as he cleared his throat and fiddled with a lock of his hair. “You weren’t at school today,” she said. “You’re always at school. I was worried.”

“I’m in one piece,” he joked lamely. But seeing Sophie’s serious expression he sobered immediately. “No, seriously. I’m okay, just–” He sniffled dramatically. “Allergies.” He winced as the lie fell from his lips, knowing it was a shitty excuse.

“Spring started back in March, Keefe. It’s May now. Don’t you think I would’ve noticed your ‘allergies’ back then?”

No response.

Letting the silence settle around them, Sophie took Keefe’s hand with both of hers. “Talk to me, Keefe. Please?” She nudged his shoulder playfully. Consequently he groaned, clutching his arm. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry,” Sophie let out in one breath.

“It’s fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Wait… but I thought it was your left shoulder that hurt?”

At her comment, he turned and gave her a strange look. “What?”

“The last time I saw you. It was your left shoulder, and now it’s your right? What’s going on?”

“You noticed?”

“Of course I did.”

Keefe looked away and at the sun, which was sinking lower and lower every second. Streaks of orange and red were painted on the sky in rough strokes, as if an angry artist had been in a rush to complete his piece. Regardless, it was beautiful. The fading light shone on Keefe’s face, and Sophie’s heart skipped a beat as she studied it. She knew the thought was wrong as soon as it entered her head: sure, he looked like a wreck, but…he also looked good. Handsome, even. Tears glistened on his dark lashes. His lips were parted slightly. But those ice-blue eyes, normally full of life, were now dull. Empty. Vacant. 

“Just so you know, I’m here,” Sophie said gently. “You can talk to me, or not, but I am here.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Keefe breathed. “I don’t deserve any of this.”

“Shut up, you deserve the world.”

Silence again. His eyes widened and then welled up. 

“It’s just hard when you feel so fucking unwanted.”

“Not by me, you aren’t.”

She felt his touch burn through her clothes and into her skin where he’d let his arms rest on her waist, pulling her close. For a moment she held him close too, and he let himself sink into her warmth. And when the floodgates opened, there was no stopping it.

Sophie let this boy, this wonderful, sweet, broken boy, cry into her shoulder. Shh, she wanted to assure him. Everything will be okay. You’re okay. But now was not the time, and she didn’t—couldn’t—make any false promises, especially not to Keefe Sencen, a stranger who had quickly become one of her closest friends.

“I’m sorry,” he said at one point, his voice muffled.

“You don’t have to be,” Sophie had whispered back.

Now, the two of them sat on the roof together, Keefe’s eyes bloodshot, Sophie holding his hand like she’d never let go. Dusk turned to night, and neither of them moved. Vaguely, Sophie thought of how worried her parents—ahem, Grady—would be, but being there for Keefe was important. So she stayed.

Keefe snorted after a while and she shot him a look, wondering what was so funny about this. “Name a more iconic duo than my fear of abandonment and my instinct to self isolate. I’ll wait.” Sophie swatted him on the shoulder disapprovingly and he laughed slightly. “Humor’s my coping mechanism. I can’t help it.”

It went quiet for a minute while Sophie went deep into thought. Her hair fluttered in the chilly winds, and she shivered slightly before answering, “You and me.”

“What?”

“You asked to name a better duo. You and me.”

Keefe really looked at her. And then he shot her his million-dollar smile and— god, Sophie’s knees would have gone weak if she was standing up. He squeezed her hand.

“Yeah. We really are something, aren’t we?”

[resin-popia]

Hello!! Your Copia doll is coming along beautifully! The paint is so realistic. Like his bottom lip has texture I have no idea how you do it! Your project got me really curious about doll work myself!! 🫣 but I have no idea where to begin. I have a few questions to start out with-

1. Could you summarize the overall process? What are the general steps from start to finish?

2. What general materials do you need?

3. What paint do you use? What brushes/applicators do you use? How did you achieve those softer/blended contour lines, like in skin tone? If that makes sense. I see some others’ projects that you can clearly see paint lines or the texture of the paint they used, but your Copia almost looks airbrushed!! :0

4. How does putting in the hair work?

5. Where do you buy your base doll? And as far as the reveal in the ~bonus picture~, did he come anatomically correct or was that something you had to add? 👀

6. Where do you recommend buying supplies?

Thank you in advance! 🙏 and happy customizing!

Long Post Incoming💀💀💀💀💀

Thanks for all the fantastic questions! Whether you work on playline vinyl dolls like Monster High or Resin Ball Jointed Dolls, the process is the same. The only difference between them is that with the vinyl dolls you are painting the eyes on yourself. Resin Popia has inset glass and resin eyes.

My tag #Resin Popia BTS has all my Behind the Scenes stuff and progress photos.

All the questions answered below the cut!

1. Could you summarize the overall process? What are the general steps from start to finish?

I will be uploading some vids soon. Try this one first tho.

When you do a faceup, it is a collaboration between you and the sculptor. The sculpture does most of the work. You are bringing the deep parts of the sculpture deeper and the forward parts more forward.

Basically this:

photograph and disassemble doll

wash doll pieces with dawn dish soap and warm water. dry all parts I want to paint.

three coats of Mister Super Clear UV Cut (MSC) sealant on each piece, with a 20 min dry time between coats.

deep freckle/blood vessel texture (optional) with red, blue,brown waterey gouache, spray MSC

dark reddish pink chalk pastel pigments in the deep creases/crevices, areas of blood flow. Correct work with kneaded eraser.

after every layer of pigment that I like, I do another spray of MSC.

lighter pinks or tans (based on skin tone references) on things I want to bring forward (brows, nose tip, cheekbones), another pass in the deep areas, new color on the lips. spray seal

Detail with fine lines under eyes, line texture on lips, wrinkles, lower eyelashes. Check references and experiment. A touch of green in the deepest part of the skull on either side of the nose. You know, where you get sinus headaches.

Pray to Satan and cry as I add eyebrows and hair details with gouache. I start by mapping the brows out with dark chalk pastel then do hairstroke lines with gouache. Personally I am super heavy -handed with my brushes, I need to work on that.

When happy, 2 final coats of MSC

Add Vallejo gloss varnish to water lines of eyes and lips.

2. What general materials do you need?

FYI I have been in this hobby for about 7 years. I have only had to replace Mister Super Clear cans and respirator cartidges in that time. Everything else I have used for nearly a decade. And also used them for other projects!

#1 item you need: a proper serious respirator. You will be at risk of inhaling toxic chemicals when you work with sealants or do any sort of dry sanding. Please please please invest in this item.

Mr. Super Clear UV Cut sealant spray. This gives the resin or vinyl a toothy surface to apply pastel pigments, watercolor pencil, and gouache paint on. The techniques will not work without this surface.

The sealant also behaves like skin, which is made up of several layers of matte cells So the pigment you apply to the resin is suspended in layers just like real skin.

Chalk Pastels I like the mungyo hand-rolled chalk pastel just because when you use a razor to scrape off some pigment it crushes up and mixes better. But any chalk pastel will do. The Xanthi video I will link later has a great idea of just buying a few chalks at a time, because to be honest I don't use all of my chalk.

Small nylon brushes.

A fan brush

A tooth brush (for skin texturing/freckles)

Crappy dollar store makeup brushes (for pigment powders)

Kneaded Erasers

White cloth gloves

ceramic dish for a palette

Some people use watercolor pencils, but I never got the hang of them. I prefer just using brushes. Everyone has their own thing they do.

Paint recs in Next Question

3. What paint do you use? What brushes/applicators do you use? How did you achieve those softer/blended contour lines, like in skin tone?

Goache paint dries flat and matte. It's basically opaque watercolor. I use a damp q-tip to remove it if I make a mistake.

Winsor-Newton is great. I am pleasantly surprised by Arteza's gouache. I have used the same gouache tubes for seven years. You put like a raindrop sized bit on a ceramic dish, that's it. And you can reconstitute gouache endlessly with just a little water.

The trick is to never EVER EVER use true black. nothing is true black unless it's makeup. I use gouache paint on Resin Popia's eye makeup but then soften it with black pastel powder to make it richer.

If you use true black it looks like mud or holes. Dark purples, browns, and greens.

Also don't be afraid to be a bit louder with the colors, the sealant mutes them a lot. Just work slowly and take breaks.

4. How does putting in the hair work?

For resin dolls, you need to make a wig. They are a PITA to make, but it's possible! Check out Mozekyto for how to make wigs. (I'll have more recommended videos further down this post.) Vinyl playline dolls you can reroot, but some people prefer wigs.

5. Where do you buy your base doll? And as far as the reveal in the ~bonus picture~, did he come anatomically correct or was that something you had to add? 👀

The same techniques can use used on vinyl dolls like Rainbow High, Monster High etc. You can get them at goodwill, big box stores, and on ebay. Lots of people sell old toy dolls.

Resin Ball Jointed Dolls are a lot more expensive, so I have spent several years slowly building up my collection. I love vinyl and resin dolls equally.

I bought my base doll from Alice Collections acbjd.com they are a vendor of many resin dolls. I absolutely love Resinsoul.

My favorite doll companies (find them on Alice Collections!) are IslandDoll, Resinsoul, Dollmore, MyouDoll, DollLeaves, 5StarDoll.

Resin Popia is MSD "Mini Super Dollfie" size aka 40cm-52cm. He's 52 cm. SD (Super Dollfie) is around 60-65cm.

I have owned dolls that were considered "prestige artist dolls" in the past, but I always end up selling them because they are so precious I'm afraid to ruin them so they just become dollar signs to me instead of something I love. I'd say $300 would get you a gorgeous resin doll and some clothes for them. Saving up for a doll you really really love is worth it in the end. People also sell used dolls on Instagram. Just please make sure to check the COAs.....

Important Note: I am a Pro-Artist legit BJD collector. AliExpress, Etsy, and Ebay have bootleg dolls that yes, are significantly cheaper, but that is because they steal from the artists that did 99% of the work (and spent tons of their own money) to develop the doll's appearance and engineering. If one cares about supporting artists they should consider the ramifications of purchasing these recasts and propagating the bootleggers. (Especially since a large part of the artist BJD community is from Russia and Ukraine, who have been lately hard hit by war and YET are still making beautiful art for the world to enjoy) I am not pro-bullying though, I am Pro-Education so if anyone wants to have a private, frank conversation about recasts in the BJD hobby feel free to message me.

One silly thing that happened once was I purchased a legit IslandDoll Bru (IslandDoll is always on sale TBH) that was actually cheaper than its recast on ebay. There are a lot of sales during Chinese holidays (11/11, Lunar New Year, Fall Festival) and you usually get a lot of extras like free eyes, beautiful carrying cases, incredible boxes, etc. Resinsoul, the "cheap" BJD company often gives you a gorgeous carrying case for your doll.

Ok enough with the disclaimers now onto doll d!cks haha

Resin dolls are usually realistic when it comes to parts. Realistic in the fact that they add something there...something simple but it's there. Resin Popia has option parts made of silicone that are actually from an action figure company called TB League. Look up "TB League Option Parts" on Ebay. The figures are 1/6 scale making the parts scary and massive at 1/6 scale but funnily enough they make sense at 1/4 scale.

IDK why i got em, I just wanted to have some fun with this doll.

6. Where do you recommend buying supplies?

If you can get to a local hobbyshop that sells models (like miniatures and wargaming figures) please support them first! As vital spaces for geek culture they need all of our support. You can get tiny brushes, Model Paints and sometimes even the sealant from them. Just call ahead they can work something out for you!

Chalk Pastels, Gouache paints I get from art supply stores and as a last resort, Amazon. I use these supplies in other art projects and you will quickly get addicted to gouache painting, i'm sure of it!

Great Videos/Resources

Xanthi's Minimalist Supply List

Xanthi's Male Realistic Faceup (I watch this one so much)

Youtube Channels I like: Enchanterium, Dollymotion, Dollightful, Lomi's Playground, Xanthi

This Book is Great: How to Rock at BJD Faceups

I am answering your additional questions in the comments if you have any! I am @anamelessfool

[divinekangaroo]

What is the no makeup skincare routine of Alicia Keys?

So, after much erosion of time and memory, these are the parts I kept (with equivalent products):

Avene Eau Thermale Thermal Spring Water spray (keep in fridge, spray) (highly highly recommend. transforming. if nothing else this product changed me. I genuinely Do Not Understand Why but I try not to question it.)

Jade roller (keep in fridge) and add Vitamin C serum with caffeine (couple drops over roller, roll over face) -> the oil I get? but personally I think the jade roller thing is bullshit. Nevertheless, what it *makes* me do is a ritualistic ~paying attention~ to all parts of my face when otherwise I would just blob, swipe, go. And so it works because the roller means I moisturise every part equally instead of just putting a blob of oil on a cheekbone and walking away with a shiny nose and dry spots on the cheeks

Moisturiser base - Alicia's makeup artist's recommended one (a suncream) stopped being made a few years ago, the equivalent I found which gives same results (but not suncream) is Moo Goo's Natural Fast Hydrating Lotion, which has the benefit of also being a full body moisturiser so, less product on shelf = always a win

Add a tiny bit of primer or foundation to the moisturiser base, mix on hand before spreading on face. Again, Alicia's primer not available any more, the equivalents I found is 1) La Roche Posay Effaclar Duo, or 2) my current preferred-> Primp and Prime from The Organic Skin Company

Exfoliate lips once a week, brown sugar

Some mask thing once a week (I used to bother, no more, vague memories of it, no material difference)

A La Roche-Posay lip balm which I tried to google and found it was just discontinued? SOB (literally the only lip balm I have found in my entire life that delivers lastingly non-dry lips. I have this in bulk in my wardrobe. My lips crack to the bleeding. I've had friends say, "oh, but dry bleeding lips are just your aesthetic?" This stopped once I found this product. I can actually wear lipstick if I want without the colour leaching into the cracks like those cracked desert terrain images)

Do peripheral details because they will stand out:

-Do eyebrows once a week, tidy stray hairs

-Do hairline once a week (depends on ethnicity/hairline, mine does filter down into the face-space)

-Use eyelash curler

and lastly, the "no makeup" bit I did have to laugh at and I don't do:

Actually *wear* makeup for the red carpet, comprising tinted primer, mascara, tiny bit of eyeliner, light eyebrow pencil shaping, transculent shiny stuff rubbed on cheekbones, and a very carefully selected concealer for the under eye bags and general real world pigmentation which exists on all skin

The only thing I've added based on other reading, which I also attribute to the aggregate contributing of fixing my previous 25 years plus of weekly skin problems and pimples:

Shave my face once a week using the Avene spray as my shaving 'liquid'. Chin, cheeks, moustache, around eyebrows, monobrow, hairline, all of it. Unspeakably good results. Tiny small facial razor. Razor goes over each piece of skin exactly once, slowly, and use a very very sharp razor so there is no repeated strokes.

(The Avene spray, jade roller + serum, and the strategy of adding teh primer/foundation to the moisturiser to thin it out/improve spread were the true original items IIRC; the rest have adapted over time.)

[idotartist]

I love the way you draw fire though! and your colouring is beautiful, I was wondering if there are any tips you could give for colouring?

OMG THANK YOU SO SO MUCH!!! ;A; i'm still figuring out how drawing fire works tho and the feedback i got was super helpfull and got me a step closer to it i think!! during my last 2 drawings i've always had some super helpful feedback about the fire so i feel really blessed about that~ as for the colouring tips, well these are some of the tricks and methods i use;

1- instead of using a darker colour for the shading i just use a more saturated colour, kinda like this;

the added saturation makes the colour appear darker when in reality it's not! think about it like colouring traditionally with colour pencils. when you use a colour pencil the places where you added a lot of pressure look much darker than the places where you added only very little pressure - despite it being one and the same colour! done with the same pencil! the reason it appears darker is because it simply just has more pigment. that's what we're doing here too, we're making the color appear darker by adding more pigment.

BUT

if we just simply stick with the exact same hue then the colouring would look bright and vivid - but still be horribly boring. so i play around with the hue too!!

the circle determines the hue you're selecting and the colors you see there are all at 0% darkness but 100% saturation despite them, technically, being equally light/dark according to the software they still look differently dark rotate the hue in the direction of blue/purple for the shadows and in the direction for yellow to select the colours for the highlights

blue, purple and red are the best colours to shade white with, for black however it'd stick to blue or else it stops looking like black and starts looking like a very dark colour instead

2- give each colour it's own layer.

that way, if you notice halfway through that the colours you've chosen don't look so good together you can still make adjustements and edit every single colour without losing any of the progress you've done with the shading (note: do all of the shading on the same!!! layer as the base colour tho!!!)

many artists solve this issue by using predetermined colour palettes, that way they're guaranteed that the colours look good toghether but colour palettes save absolutely no time at all (adjusting the colours of a layer takes only a few seconds) and are extremely limiting when colouring so i just don't see any benefit to them

3- USE THE RIGHT BRUSH!!!! your choice of brushes can honestly make or break the colouring. the impact they have should not be underestimated, it's huge. which brush is best for you depends on your artstyle but personally i think brushes that simulate either watercolours or copic markers are the best ones.

if you use a software where it's possible to use custom brushes made by fellow artists then PLEASE do that. most art software comes with awful default brushes, and even for those that come with decent default brushes (such as photoshop) most free custom brushes made by fellow artists are still so much better than the default brushes that they're worlds apart Clip Studio Paint (the software i use) has an assets "store" where you can download brushes made by fellow users. for other art software i'd recommend checking out deviantart for user made custom brushes if it's a software that existed before the downfall of deviantart. it's a huge goldmine filled with insanely amazing brushes for many different types of software. personally i use a brush called froggy pencil for the colouring 4- add overlay layers to your art after finishing with the colouring. they can make a drawing really come to live and it's insane just HOW much they add to a drawing. usually i always either use a gradient, a solid colour or a soft airbrushed colour on the overlays and let them do their magic.

to show just how much of a difference overlay layers make; here's a comparision between my most recent drawing - and a version of the same drawing where i removed all overlay layers. see the difference?

...soo uhhh ... that's all the tips and tricks i have up my sleeve lol hope it helped a bit?

[reinersbb]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 [𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] Chapter Six- Purple

                                                     ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.                                                ᴺᵒʷ ᵖˡᵃʸᶦⁿᵍ; [ 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 ]                                             0:21—◦———— -2:38

The lead from your mechanical pencil left dull scribbles of different examples of French sentences utilizing past participles on your sheet of notebook paper. Your right earbud hummed lightly a tune from Brent Faiyaz in your ear as you worked diligently on your French coursework.

Thursday was the fourth day of November. Midterms had thankfully come to an end, and even though you had managed to pass all of your tests with flying colors, it didn't mean that you hadn't endured any stress during such a treacherous week. You were left feeling burnt out from all of the studying and stress that came with the previous week, sure, the weekend had been an upside for you, but now you were back into your same routine of studying and working hard towards when your next set of tests would be.

Due diligence. You wanted to be on top of everything, especially your grades. University was hard, and you couldn't afford to fail.

So, that's why you were currently sitting in a small cafe just outside of the campus grounds after your last class of the day, trying to stay ahead of the game by tackling your French work. There was a slight sigh of relief from you, feeling at ease for swapping German for French. Not that learning another language was easy, but for you at least, French came to you more naturally.

An old wooden wheelbarrow painted white that was filled and stacked with a variety of pumpkins was the cafe's attempt at decorating for the fall season. Some spheres were bright orange, while others were dull in color, and some were also speckled with bumps and lumpy all over. The wooden vessel was parked stationary right outside the cafe's large glass doors. Every few minutes you would take a moment to give your eyes a rest from your work to glance out of the tall windows and take in the scenery, watching the crisp orange, yellow, and red leaves sweep the cobblestone pathway outside. The pigmented colors of autumn were a sure sight to take in, especially since it wouldn't be much longer until autumn was to turn into Winter and then everything would be dull and grey.

Scarlet maple leaves continuously dance in the wind as you forward your attention to your phone so you could change the song as 'Trust' drew near to its' ending cord.

You had been in the cafe alone for almost forty minutes now working on your course material. This time alone to yourself was a must considering as of recent how much you'd been out in a public setting.

Your fingertip draws away from the device screen, 'because I like a boy,' is now playing in your ear.

The light tune bumps in your ear as you go back to work, scribbling down the foreign language onto the paper. It's when a dim shadow from a passerby walking outside of the cafe obscures your line of vision and sweeps your workspace that steals your attention. The lead of your pencil digs into your paper as you halt your writing process. You see that it is a couple passing by, hand in hand while heading for the entrance of the cafe.

The bright chime from the bell hanging just above the glass door mocks you, the sound of the bell seems to slow down in time and the bright tune twists down a cord in a melancholy manner as you observe the couple entering the cafe together.

How you instantly regretted looking up from your work to witness the two love birds.

Roughly fifteen feet away from you stood a slender figure, one hand buried deep into his jacket pocket, his left hand holding onto the woman's right hand as he stared forward gawking at the cafe menu. His red hair was short on the sides and longer on the top. The girl with dark hair that was glued to his side was still laughing at something that he had said previously while walking into the cafe. The couple had no care in the world and was oblivious to you, while you on the other hand were suffering just by existing around their presence.

Of course, your ex-boyfriend, Floch, and attached to him was Mina.

Jean's offer to help forget about Floch for the night being had done justice because the last time you gave Floch any thought was back at the party whenever you saw him together with Mina. The steamy night together with Jean did more than just help you forget about Floch, the night you shared together was really the only thing you've been able to think about as of recently.

So seeing your ex in the same vicinity as you, especially with the girl he most definitely left you for and more than likely cheated on you with, made your mood plummet drastically. Your whole day was now ruined, that's what it felt like at least to you. You had gone such a long time without thinking about him, almost a week-long, and now it felt like you had to start back from square one all over again. The feelings you had for the man were gone, but seeing him with her and the insinuation of what conspired between the two did hurt you.

With your fingertips curling tightly around the mechanical pencil, you ducked your head down, burying yourself in your work in an attempt to make yourself less noticeable. You plucked your other earbud out of its case and swiftly inserted it into your left ear, at the same time you increased the music's volume and went on with your work, hoping to be able to retain anonymity.

"Shit," you mumble to yourself when you notice you have left random pencil markings on your work.

With a huff, you begin erasing the stray markings and wipe the shedding from your eraser off the table out of frustration. The pink fibers fall aimlessly in the air as you stare down at the paper in front of you. A few minutes pass by and you, fortunately, begin to forget that Floch and Mina were even there in the first place. And no, you were not planning to look up and get a quick analysis of the cafe to check and see if the two were still there in the cafe with you.

That is until you notice in your peripheral vision the movement of two chairs being moved at a nearby table. You snatch your eyes up and over to the commotion of chairs being moved, noticing that both Floch and Mina were sitting down at a nearby table. The table the two were sitting at was so close to you that you thought that they'd seen you and decided to fuck with you by purposely sitting near you as some type of cruel joke. Or maybe, just maybe, they were completely and utterly oblivious to your existence by being so self-absorbed in each other's presence.

The position in which the two were sitting at their table made it easy for you to remain unnoticed unless they were to purposely look around, which you were grateful for. Though, you couldn't help but ignore your work and keep watch of them and how the two interacted with one another. You and Floch used to act the same way with each other at one point in time when things were nice and fresh between the two of you at the beginning of your relationship, but those more joyful memories seemed so far and distant now.

The atmosphere around you was now bleak, a bitter taste was left lingering in your mouth, and it wasn't due to the aftertaste of your cinnamon maple latte either. You felt more than uncomfortable being entangled in the same presence as the two, you wanted to crawl out of your own skin, and you would do so if applicable. But, instead of committing to such drastic actions, you decided to make it easy on yourself to pack up and leave.

The porcelain cup which held the remnants of your unfinished caffeinated beverage clanked against a dirty plate at the cafe's dish drop-off that customers would use once finished dining in. You hadn't even had both straps of your backpack completely looped over your arms before you pressed through the exit of the cafe.

Finally being outside of the cafe and standing on the cobblestone walkway strip felt freeing to you, like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and that you were no longer being suffocated. The day sky was a shade of dusty pink as the time of day slowly began to change from day to night.

Your fingertips pinch onto your left earbud and you place it back into its case as you began to head your way back towards your dorm, there you would cocoon yourself inside of your comforter for the rest of the night, and maybe even all weekend long. While pushing the earbud pack into the pocket of your sweatpants, you halt in your tracks, pausing your march back to your room as you notice a familiar sweet freckled face exiting a store with a large yet slender white box hugged in his arms.

"McFly!" You say while striding towards the man with dark hair, putting your other earbud away mid-process.

Marco's face lights up brightly and says your name whenever he notices you approaching him, "I was confused for a second whenever you said McFly but then it hit me. But, oh my goodness, hi, how are you? I haven't seen you since the party."

Seeing Marco's happy smile immediately began to cheer you up, he seemed to be such a sweetheart.

You laugh while listening to him, "I had to get your attention somehow, and I am feeling a little crummy right now, but I will be okay. How are you, Marco?"

"Why are you feeling crummy right now?" Marco asks with a slight frown on his face before saying anything else. "I am doing great, thanks for asking. Actually, I am super excited for tonight," Marco suggests to the box he is holding in his arms.

"You do seem really excited, what's tonight?" You ask, forwarding towards the white box, "and it's just relationship things, I just had an encounter with my ex, unfortunately."

"I'm sorry to hear that you're feeling a little down right now. And tonight, a few of the boys from our frat and I are going out to have dinner at a restaurant to have a mini celebration for Armin's birthday that was yesterday, I was picking up a cake for the occasion."

The news was a surprise to you, "yesterday was Armin's birthday? I had no clue."

"Yeah, and as I said, we're just doing a small celebration since there's going to be a huge party next Friday to celebrate both Armin and Porco's birthdays since their birthdays are only like a week apart from one another."

"I am jealous, I love cake," you huffed a joyful response, "also, could you make sure to tell Armin I said happy birthday for me, please?"

"Of course, I can do that for you without a doubt," his chocolate brown eyes are shining at you as he smiles, "what are your plans for the rest of this fine Thursday evening?"

"Oh," your voice drains as you think of what to say. Because explaining to Marco that you were on the way back to your room to hide away in your covers would be way too embarrassing, "nothing much honestly, probably just stay in my room for the rest of the night."

Marco's eyebrows furrow together slightly and it seems like he begins to think of something momentarily. Then, his face lightens up brightly as it seems like an idea struck him out of nowhere.

"Marco?" you ask, wondering what it could be that he thought of.

Marco says your name full of excitement, "you know what? Instead of me telling Armin happy birthday for you, how about you do it yourself by coming out with us tonight, it will be great!"

"I don't know, I wouldn't want to impose since I wasn't invited originally. And besides, didn't you say if was just people from your frat going to be there?"

"Well, I am inviting you now, if anyone has a problem with it then they'll just have to deal with me. Plus, Jean will be there," he cooed the last bit, almost as if he were trying to get a reaction out of you.

Jean. As for pretty much everyone else, Jean was also someone you hadn't seen since the night together in your dorm room. You wanted to see him again, but you never knew how to ask over text, you kept quiet.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip lightly as you think of a response, "only if you're sure that it'll be okay if I show up, I wouldn't want anyone to be annoyed with my presence."

"Trust me, I promise, and it was just an idea it's not like there are any set rules to it," Marco's voice is encouraging, "asides from dressing semi-formal, Armin's request, of course."

"Okay, fine, it's a done deal," you say but quickly you realize something, "by the way, what time and where exactly?"

Marco happily gives you both the time of the place where the birthday dinner was supposed to be, and where the dinner was planned to be held. With the new information, your trip home to your dorm room is quicker than you'd originally anticipated. And as soon as you got back to your room, you got to work since you only had an hour and a half at most to both be ready and be at the restaurant on time.

The time is almost twenty after six in the evening as you approach a cream-colored stone building that seemed to be three stories tall. The brick of the building was old and seemed to be able to tell a tale of years while the paint was fresh and new. Bright warm light shines through all of the windows which are tall and narrow and boxed in with dark wooden frames. There are three thin trees spaced out evenly just in front of the old building. There are benches lined up parallel to the building, the same as small plant boxes for decoration. A large sign at the very top of the building had the name 'Sina's' in cursive script, the subscript underneath read the words 'dine, lounge, and bar'.

You stare at yourself in the reflection of the front door, raking in your appearance and doubling yourself over to make sure you looked decent enough. It had been a while since you last saw Jean, and for some reason, you wanted to make sure you looked your best for this occasion. Hugging onto your body was a ruched fabric bodycon dress with sheer long sleeves in the shade of rich deep purple. You wore your favorite color of jewelry to match the dress, along with black high heels to go with tonight's look.

You swap your clutch to your other hand as you push through the swing door and into the inside of the restaurant. The open space is tall with high ceilings, there is a grand staircase that leads up to the next floor. Two large waterfall-type fountains are structured into the wall just beside both sides of the staircase. After taking a moment to gawk at the main entryway, there is a man standing at a podium just beside the entrance who was ready to greet you.

"Good evening ma'am, welcome to Sina's, how may I assist you?" the sound of water lapping plays in your ear.

"I am supposed to be having dinner with my friends here tonight at around this time."

"If you head just up those stairs," the employee points towards the staircase, "you will find yourself in the restaurant where you will be seated with your group."

"Okay, thank you so much," you say to the man while also shining a polite smile before heading upstairs.

"By yourself?" The hostess asks while collecting a single menu as soon as he sees you approach.

"No, I'm here with a large group, the reservation should be under the last name Arlert."

"Why of course, the party of nine, right this way," the host places the menu back where he originally grabbed it from, "if you'll just follow me."

You follow the tall lanky individual across the restaurant until you reach a big circular table that already had menus all aligned along with perfectly folded napkins that held gold-plated silverware pocketed inside the folds. You also notice Marco who was currently readjusting the center of the table with the box of birthday cake and a card.

"Thank you," you say while collecting a seat that had you facing the entrance, "where is everyone else, Marco?" You couldn't help but observe that it was just Marco currently present while the rest of the table was vacant.

Marco's voice shines as he greets you, "the time for dinner is supposed to be six-thirty, I wanted us to get here early so you could help me prep some things," he explains.

"That explains why you told me to be here at six twenty instead of a normal time such as six thirty," you laugh lightly, "what do you need my help with?"

Marco chuckles at the first part of your sentence, "I've pretty much got it, honestly I just wanted some company while I got everything ready."

It doesn't even take another minute before he is finished setting up the table completely. In the center of the table was the birthday cake, along with a card that was signed by Marco, and underneath the cake and laying scattered across the tablecloth was large gold metallic confetti.

To avoid feeling exposed by bringing nothing to the table, Marco had done the favor of scribbling your name down onto the card he had brought with him, you made sure to slip some extra cash on the inside.

"It looks great, Marco," you admire his handwork and his attention to detail, "you did a nice job."

"Thank you," Marco sports a radiating smile as he admires his work before he checks his dark brown leather watch to evaluate the time, "we still have a few minutes left to kill before the rest of our group shows up."

"Thanks again for inviting me out tonight, Marco, I didn't want to say this earlier, but if I am being honest, I was planning on going back to my room and staying in bed for the rest of the night if it weren't for you."

"Please, it was all my pleasure, and actually," Marco pauses for a moment as he scans the area before continuing, "I wanted to thank you for something."

"Thank me... what for exactly?" You stare at him with a questioning look painted across your face.

You were more than curious to find out what it was exactly Marco was so thankful for.

"About Jean, you see, Jean has been one of my closest friends for quite some time now and he has been in a dark place for a little while, even though he won't open up and admit to it. Not only that, but the aftermath of him and his ex hasn't been pretty. I will say though, in the past few weeks I've noticed a positive change in him and I can only connect the dots that it might have something to do with you, so whatever it is you're doing, keep doing it please, I haven't seen Jean this happy in a while."

The ex Jean was talking about at the costume party, that ex? Even though Jean had said he wasn't sure if he was in love with her, was there more to the story?

"Me? Are you sure, Marco? I haven't done anything special besides exist," you've done more than just exist in Jean's world, but you were going to spare Marco the explicit details that had occurred between you and Jean.

Marco shrugs, "it's just my suspicion, that's all, he seems a bit brighter around the house and he brings you up quite often believe it or not, also, did you know that Jean is a mama's boy?"

All of the information that Marco was throwing at you was a lot to process, and your brain was only processing things at half speed, "wait a minute, he talks about me? What, a mama's boy, where'd that even come from?"

"You cannot tell him that I told you any of this, okay? So, back a few weeks ago, he tells me about how this beautiful woman bumped into him while he was on a jog and he felt like a dumbass for not grabbing her number. He felt like all hope was lost until he saw her again at a party the very next day."

A wave of heat flashes over you, toasting your face as you listen to Marco speak about how Jean was talking about you. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, but, at the same time, you couldn't get enough of the tea and wanted Marco to keep spilling the beans.

"After the party that he went to, he was back in my room telling me how he managed to kiss her at that party and how he ran into her again and invited her to a Halloween party," Marco continues.

"Okay, so maybe that is me he was talking about, all of that stuff did happen between us," and more than just that too.

"And about him being a mama's boy, I just think it's because he misses home or something."

Just as you open your mouth to say another word, your response is cut short when you notice a large group begins to walk toward the table where you and Marco were seated at. You immediately notice the birthday boy himself before anyone else due to such radiant glow that engulfed him.

Shortly after, you notice the tall man with ash-colored hair walking just behind the vast group talking with who seemed to be Niccolo. From what you can see, you cannot help but notice a small unrecognizable frown pulling at his lips as he walks towards the table behind everyone.

"No way," Eren spouts a look of surprise whenever he notices you and shouts your name to gather your attention, "what're you doing here?"

Eren saying your name causes Jean's attention to rip away from the conversation he was having with Niccolo. Jean's eyes are glued to you as you stand from your chair to greet everyone. You had your arms open to Armin to wish him a hello and a happy birthday, but instead of the blond wrapping his arms around you, Eren made sure to swoop in and get to you first. Eren's gesture is genuine, this you could tell to be truthful compared to other times you'd seen him, especially whenever he wasn't sober.

Eren's presence is inviting enough, but, there's something off about the embrace that has you almost instantly rejecting his closeness internally. It's as if something felt off to you, or the encounter just outright felt unnatural. Jean's eyes narrow down on you and Eren as he watches the encounter from afar.

"Hello, Eren," you say as the tall brunette releases you from his grasp, "why, don't you clean up nice," there was a subtle hint of surprise laced in your voice as you viewed Eren's well-groomed appearance.

You couldn't help but poke fun at the boy with shining emerald-colored eyes. For once his hair was neatly tied back without any flyaways hanging loosely, nor did his breath reek of cheap booze and his vape pen.

"Special occasion," Eren says to you with a toothy grin and a light pat on your shoulder before he chooses a seat at the table.

"Armin," you finally greet the birthday boy with a light embrace, whenever you two separate is when you continue to speak, "I'm so sorry I didn't realize it was your birthday yesterday, I had no idea or I would've said something sooner, but, happy birthday nonetheless!"

"Thank you so much, and no, It's okay, I don't go around spouting to people that it's my birthday, so it's understandable that you weren't aware, I'm glad that you are here actually, it's a nice surprise."

Jean is the last person you greet out of the entire group. His saunter has a certain beat to it as he strides over to you. He stands front and center to you, standing tall as he towers adjacent to you. You weren't sure why but you were full of nerves being within his vicinity, even though there was no real reason to be nervous especially after sharing more than one explicit evening together.

"Jean, hello," your senses are swamped with the familiarity of Jean's rich sheer cashmere cologne as his long arms pull you to him.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Jean's hand is caressing the small of your back as he has you sink into his embrace, "I'm happy to see you."

Feeling the warmth of his body press against yours made you want to melt into him as his presence engulfed you. Feeling weak at the knees by his touch alone left you feeling helpless. But before you were left in a sea of hopelessness, the intimate encounter between you two ended faster than you would've preferred.

Your skin was left buzzing in all of the places where Jean had just touched you, your skin felt aflame as if his touch had set you on fire. You wondered if Jean was currently feeling the same way as you.

As the two of you reluctantly pull away from one another, you drink the tall figure in as he stands before you. Jean's ash-colored hair is combed back at the sides, though strands still manage to fall and drape over his forehead and over his hazel eyes. Jean wore a dark grey overcoat with a deep maroon turtleneck tucked into black slacks underneath. His eyebrows are relaxed as you finally draw your attention back to his face, you catch his pale eyes drinking you in as you had been doing the same to him.

Jean laughs slightly whenever the two of you make eye contact, noticing that you caught him eyeing you, "you're wearing purple, the dress looks great on you."

"That I am, and thank you, Jean," you bat an eye playfully, knowing the reason why you picked this dress was from recalling that purple was Jean's favorite color.

Jean helps you take your seat by pulling out your chair for you, and whenever you're seated he helps you push the seat forward to the table. Jean follows suit by taking the seat to your right before the spot is taken since Marco had already taken the seat to your left.

Sitting beside Jean felt comfortable, natural, even.

Jean tilts his chair back, leaning back in the chair to gain eyesight on Marco. The two begin to have a conversation oh hello's and how are you's to catch up with one another behind your back as you pluck the menu from off of the table and your eyes begin to wander across the options.

Just as you were becoming well acquainted with the menu, you hear Eren speak out from across the table.

"There she is," Eren announces as his eyes are pinned to the entrance, "I thought you weren't going to make it."

You turn in your seat to watch as a woman who was wearing a red satin dress breeze through the circular dinner tables toward your group. You had only seen her once or twice before, each time was from both parties you had attended recently. The name that belonged to the woman was on the tip of your tongue, but, unfortunately, your memory was currently failing you.

"Hey, Mikasa, I didn't think you were showing up with us tonight," Armin chimes brightly at the woman with short dark hair.

"Happy birthday again, Armin," she crouches beside the blond and places a small gift box in front of the man, "Annie sends her birthday wishes," Mikasa's lips draw into a small pucker as she kisses the birthday boy by the ear.

Armin's milky white face floods to a scarlet hue after listening to Mikasa's response, "thank you, Mikasa," his bright blue orbs comb over the small gift as the corners of his mouth pinch to a smile.

Eren nudges Armin with a sheepish elbow press to the upper arm to gather the blond's attention. Armin is pulled from his bashful trance to glance at Eren, at the same time Eren mouths something to Armin, the only bit of information you could collect from Eren's lips was the word 'Annie'.

"I had trouble finding parking for this place, or I would've been here sooner," Mikasa apologizes as she finds a seat to the left of Eren.

"I think we all had trouble finding a place to park for this place," Jean jumps in on the conversation.

You look at Jean after he speaks and begin to analyze how his eyes happen to linger on the woman in the red dress. Watching his pale eyes stay fastened onto Mikasa as the conversation flows around the table causes your stomach to involuntarily twist and bend while an undisclosed feeling begins brewing deep within you. While watching the two and slowly piecing bits and clues together, mainly how Jean's eyes were pinned to her and how he would smile when speaking, but the corners of his mouth would form into a frown each time Mikasa looked away from Jean's vicinity. Realization hits you which helps you finally connect the pieces together and see the bigger picture, or, the reality of the situation.

Mikasa was Jean's mysterious ex.

To you, everything began to make so much more sense. And you couldn't help but belittle yourself for not figuring it out sooner.

Remembering back to the Halloween party when you and Jean sat in the locked room completing the dare that Sasha commanded you two to execute, and how Jean began talking about his past with his ex. How Jean explained to you on the couch that his ex was there at the party, you remember Mikasa being there that night at the Halloween party, along with the other party previous to the costume party as well.

You try to shake the feeling away of what felt like some form of jealousy or bitterness by shifting in your seat, fixing your posture, and focusing your attention face forward so that way your eyes land on Armin before your line of sight falls to the script printed on the restaurant's menu. Your eyes continuously rake over the dinner entrees without processing any of the words while reminding yourself of how Jean reassured you that same night that he was completely over his ex and past relationship. Jean was more than genuine when he opened up to you about such a delicate topic, this you had thought at least.

Biting the bullet, you push your feelings aside because you knew that it made no sense to feel this type of way, it was childish. Jean was no one in particular to you aside from someone you had been having casual hookups with, there had been no feelings involved. Jean wasn't your man, he had been there to help you forget about Floch, so Jean's personal affairs shouldn't be a hindrance to you, let alone be any of your business or concern. You told yourself that to be true, but even you didn't believe in yourself.

Glasses of champagne had been poured as refreshments and topped off for refills as the dinner commenced. Light classical tones of a live musician playing a tune of Erik Satie on a grand piano from another section of the building trickled into the dining area.

The pad of your index finger taps on the glass of your champagne to the melody while you hold the drink in your hand as you glance around the restaurant while others laugh cheerfully across the table. You had been relatively quiet the whole evening, aside from quick responses and dry laughs whenever you were talked to directly, but when it came to initiating conversation you remained silent.

Your line of sight casts over toward the right side of the table, lips against the rim of your glass as you intake the rest of your champagne while glancing at Jean. As if Jean can sense your eyes on him, he turns his head to the left, his eyes glancing off into the distance before his eyes snatch to you, instinctively finding yours and holding eye contact with you. There is a catch in your throat as you exhale deeply. Throughout the evening, your eyes caught onto Jean's more than a handful of times whenever you'd glance around to see Jean looking at you. And each time, your heart would swell with a dull pressure.

"Would you like more champagne?" Jean leans towards you so he could be heard by you from over the volume of the table, referring to the bottle of champagne that had been left in a bucket of ice for the group.

"No, thank you, Jean," you place the tall glass down beside your half-eaten plate of pasta, "I am going to go freshen up before they start digging into dessert," you say while taking the napkin you had laid in your lap on top of the table as you push your seat back and stand to your feet. "I will be right back," you announce to the table.

The palms of your hands run along the fabric of your dress to adjust your appearance. You press your weight against your chair to slide it back under the table before deciding to wander off to find the restroom. Just as you make an exit out of the dining area, you glance over your left shoulder only to notice Jean watching you make your exit.

You needed a moment alone to gather yourself. Not that you didn't enjoy the others who were around you, but, you wanted to get ahold of your thoughts and feelings and gain control of your emotional stability to prevent a shadow of gloom from casting over the others. The thought of being jealous was absurd, there was no reason to be jealous over something so simple as Jean eyeballing his assumed ex, yet, you couldn't shake the bitter feeling that had been lingering deep in a pit inside of you.

Frosted cranberry-scented soap bubbles were frothy against your palms as you scrubbed your hands under the warm sink water, letting out internal frustration. You were at a crossroads with yourself by both your mind and body going against each other. Logically, you knew that there was no reason to feel so bitter, but your body wasn't listening to your own sound reasoning.

The paper towel was ripped with one swift motion from the dispenser before you began to pat your hands dry. You crumple the paper towel into a tight ball before tossing the used paper into the waste bin. Just before you decide on leaving the restroom, you touch up both your hair and makeup before venturing off back to the table.

As you were walking back to join the group, your attention is drawn towards a set of tall French doors with glass windows that lead out to the outside. You can see from inside that it is a dimly lit outside patio with the option of dining outside. Without thinking, or without any reason, you are drawn to the exit doors and make your quiet approach to the cold autumn nighttime.

**Listen to 'My Luv' by RINI and Bibi Bourelly now to get the full feels of this scene**

You stand just before the railing of the restaurant's patio, staring out into the shining night sky of the city lights. Luckily enough for you, no one else was to be seen outside due to the chilling temperature the nighttime brought about. Sheer white vapor exhales from your parted lips as you take the bustling scenery in. You clasp your palms around your upper arms and rub your skin hoping the friction warms you up as you stand alone outside.

It was times like this you enjoyed, times that brought to you a sense of clarity and peace.

You can hear the door from the restaurant open and close, and you retain your own bubble and ignore the other restaurantgoers while you stay pinned in your own little world. That is until you feel a warm and heavy material blanket your shoulders as Jean's voice softly speaks your name into presence in the night's atmosphere.

You're pulled from your own headspace to turn and look at Jean who was standing behind you, and you notice that he too was staring out at the city lights.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself, is there something bothering you?" Jean's eyes are staring out at the city lights before he turns to look at you.

"Jean," your lips buzz as you gather something to tell him, "nothing is bothering me, I just wanted some fresh air is all," you lie.

The old Eddison bulbs hanging in fixed arrays shine warm light which cascades over both you and Jean. Though there is scarce lighting, Jean is illuminated by the warm light, and the warm light dusts over Jean which makes his skin glow.

"Is that so?" His eyes lead back out to the city lights as he turns his head, his face dips downward as he hangs his head in between his arms that he has perched on the railing.

Jean is quiet for a moment, the silence envelopes you two, but the silence isn't uncomfortable. Without any premeditation, Jean lifts his head, eyes still drawing out to the distance. You cut your attention away from watching his facial features and go back to gazing out at the moving city as well.

Your fingertips pinch at the sides of Jean's heavy coat that he draped over your shoulders just a few moments ago, closing the fabric over yourself to give yourself some warmth. Without looking, Jean leans to the left which allows his arm to press against yours, his body heat radiating off onto you. His presence warms you up even though you were only parallel to each other.

"I don't know," Jean states while messing with his hands, "I feel like there's something bothering you, did I do anything to upset you? Did something happen with your ex again? I'm here to listen to you if you have anything to say."

You weren't sure if it were scary or impressive how well Jean could read you like a book.

Yes and yes.

"You didn't do anything to upset me, Jean," another lie from you, "and yes, kinda sorta, I saw him earlier today with the same girl and I've been in a weird mood ever since then. It's so odd because I don't even care about him anymore, but I guess realizing that I was probably cheated on with that girl is what irks me."

Jean's jacket acts as your cocoon as you try to shield yourself away from the rest of the world as you pour your heart out. Though Jean was looking face forward out at the city, it didn't mean he wasn't paying attention any less.

Jean's chest drops as he exhales as if he had come to a mental agreement about something before taking a step back away from the patio railing. Turning on your right foot, you watch as Jean takes another step forward, but this time he approaches you directly. Jean places his hands on the railing at either side of you, you fluidly step back into place, your rear end pressing into the cold safety fence behind you. You were now enclosed in Jean's presence as his long strong arms trapped you in place. You could drown in Jean's familiar cologne due to how close he was to you.

His head is bent so that way his eyes were all on you, only on you. The sides of his face were illuminated and glowing from the warm Eddison bulbs, but a shadow was cast over the depths of his face. Even though a majority of his face was blanketed with darkness, his amber eyes still radiated with brightness as he was holding eye contact with you.

You could feel your rampant heartbeat vibrate your entire body as you stood pressed against the safety rail. You felt like your entire world was closing in whenever Jean says your name for another time in a hushed tone.

"I know that my original offer was for the other night back at the Halloween party, but, I'd like to clarify some more," Jean's chest rises and falls as if he was gathering the courage to speak. "I would be more than willing to help you forget about him and what he did to you, whenever you need it," Jean dips his head down closer to you, waiting to hear your response, "I don't mind."

'Whenever you need it' repeats over and over again in your head.

"Jean," you peer up at him through your eyelashes as his face lingers dangerously close to yours.

There are no other words said or shared between you two as Jean's lips hover just above yours, you couldn't even begin to fathom a reply as you were more focused on how it would feel for your lips to connect with Jean's. You feel his warm exhales of anticipation fan your skin, sending a cool shiver up your spine. Instead of the bitter feeling you'd been feeling all night, now there was a new feeling erupting in your core, you couldn't place the emotion, all you knew is that your body yearned to be touched by Jean- no, craved.

A jolt of electricity shoots through your body and all of your extremities whenever Jean's lips finally press against yours. Your feet felt embedded in the ground, like you could never be moved and that nothing could come in your way with Jean, yet at the same time you felt lighter than air and that a simple wind could brush past you and knock you over.

As you stand lip-locked with Jean on the restaurant's dimly lit patio, you feel his body heat axis ring against you. Jean's hands grip the railing as the kiss deepens and is filled with more passion. Your nose is swamped with his sweet whiskey scent as Jean's presence engulfs you.

Jean's knuckles burn white as his fingers crease the metal pole, wanting to do nothing more than grab ahold of you, but he held himself back. Jean's pelvis presses into you as he drinks you in, slow yet deep kisses you two share. His tongue grazes against your lower lip and you immediately allow him entrance. Jean's tongue brushes over yours in a smooth motion and swirls back around. You two play this battle for a moment, but it is clear to you that Jean is much more powerful than you, much more dominant, you knew you couldn't win but it was more than pleasurable trying.

A sweet moan forms in the back of your throat and is muffled by Jean's mouth. Jean would more than happily take you right then and there if applicable, but both you and Jean knew better to commit such a scandalous act at a time and place like this. Instead, Jean stood before you, pressing into you gingerly as you reach your hands up to the back of his neck to have him deepen the kiss and form more into you. Naturally, your hand runs through his lengthy hair, grabbing onto the man and refusing to never let him go. Your muffled moans seep through the corners of your mouth as you and Jean would bob your heads in a synchronized rhythm together. Every time Jean would hear you moan would result in the corners of his lips perking up into a grin. How he loved hearing you make sounds of pleasure from his doing.

Unable to take much more, Jean caves in as his fingers release the railing and his hands push through the opening of his coat that you worse and slip onto your body. His hands instantly rake your body over, feeling along all of your dips and curves through the tight fabric of your dress. Naturally, Jean pulls you in close to him, his hips now pressing into you as the passionate kiss continues without any pauses or hiccups. The two of you share a groove together that is seamless and natural.

Though the two of you could've kept going with your passionate make-out session, Jean reluctantly pulls his lips away from yours. As soon as his lips are peeled away from yours, you heave in deep shaky breaths of hot air. Jean dips his head to you once again, his forehead pressing against yours as he too takes a moment to catch his breath.

"I have missed seeing you around," Jean's voice is patchy with the intake and exhale of shallow breaths as he says your name.

Hearing Jean say this makes your insides swell with splendor. The corners of your mouth poke upward into a bashful grin as you peer down, reliving the information Jean had just revealed to you.

"Really? Why's that, Jean," you were curious to know, but, mainly you wanted to hear what Jean had to say.

Jean's chest vibrates as he chuckles breathlessly, "are you seriously going to make me say it? Fine, if I'm being honest with you, I enjoy your presence, that's why I've missed seeing you around."

Truth be told, you had missed Jean entirely way too much. Much more than you would've thought or expected, but you weren't going to tell him that.

His bright hazel eyes are darkened as you tilt your chin up, locking eye contact with him. All humorous tones had cleared from his voice. Jean's eyebrows are slightly pinched together as he stares down at you, his right hand reaching for your face as he continues holding eye contact. You fell into a trance staring at the man, feeling the warmth his hand brought to your cheek as the pad of his thumb strokes smoothly against your skin. Jean hadn't given you any time to speak, let any time to form a thought and think on what he had said.

Jean's fingertips lightly press into your face as he maneuvers your head back, chin tilting back as he places one last soft kiss on your lips, "I think it's time we head back in before they come searching for us."

You nod your head in a brief motion, watching Jean as he retracts his hand away from your face to brush his long fingers through his hair. Jean is close beside you as he leads the way back to the glass window pane door. You made sure to shrug off Jean's coat and return it back to him just before entering the inside of the restaurant.

Just as you were passing through the threshold of the door, a thought occurs to you, "so, were you looking for me?"

Amber eyes glance down at you then back straightforwardly, "I was worried about you, and I had this feeling that something was bothering you throughout the evening, so I came looking for you to make sure that everything was alright."

"Thank you for checking up on me," a content smile is plastered on your face.

The thought of Jean's ex would have to be tucked and buried away into the deepest parts of your brain, at least for now, at least for the rest of the night. With the thought of Jean's ex out of the picture, you could enjoy the rest of the time you had together with Jean before dinner was over.

They always say that ignorance is bliss.

That's exactly what you were going to do. There was no need to dwell over something that you couldn't control. Controlling who Jean's ex was was way out of your power, the only thing you could try to do at least was not let the fact bother you so much. Not that there was a real reason to care anyway, Jean wasn't your boyfriend, his loyalties didn't lie to you, and neither did yours to him. Besides, being wound up in a new relationship after recently being broken up with would've been too soon. To you, hooking up to forget about Floch was currently the best option, you got what you wanted without any ties, without any commitment. And it seemed that Jean had no issue with hooking up either.

The group at the dinner table was steadfast in talking to one another, it almost seemed like no one even noticed or recalled you stepping away in the first place, let alone Jean as well. Whenever both you and Jean approached the table, a few eyes glanced at you and smiles followed suit as you were welcomed back to the table.

"Welcome back, while you were gone we sang happy birthday as dessert was served and I was about to open my gifts that everyone brought," Armin informs you.

Jean pulls your seat out for you from under the table, and you rightfully take your seat back with everyone else. Jean helps push you back into place before he takes his seat right beside you.

"Let's see it, shall we?" Jean says, his chin resting on the palm of his right hand as he has his arm propped up on the table, his expression seems flat but his voice is saucy enough.

You catch his hazel eyes glancing over at you after Jean finishes speaking to Armin. The corner of Jean's lips pins into a sly smile after he notices you catch him glancing at you while he corrects his posture and sits up straight in his chair, his chest flaring broadly. Or, rather, he smiles after seeing you had stolen a glance at him just as he did the same to you.

By the time Armin was finished with opening the gifts he had received from everyone you had finished your slice of birthday cake that was provided by Marco, and everyone's tab had already been settled.

Before anyone from the table were to depart again, Eren halts everyone from moving any further as he pulls out his cell phone.

"Sit your asses down, we need to take a couple of group pics with the birthday boy," he announces, staring straight at his phone as his thumb taps on the camera application.

Eren stands to his feet and crouches a bit as he holds his phone up to take a group selfie of the table. Everyone around the table gets ready and into position, you take a second to readjust yourself and get ready for the photo before leaning in and over to the side to be seen by the camera. You feel Jean's left arm snake around your shoulder along with his weight shifting towards you slightly which causes a chill you race up your spine. You take a quick second to glance over your right shoulder to look at him, his eyes are pinned on the cell phone in Eren's hands and there was a bright smile on his face. Quickly, your attention is back forward to the selfie that was about to be taken, your lips are peeled into a cheerful smile as Eren counts down from three.

"Happy birthday, Armin," Eren cheers, snapping a shot of the moment.

Everyone goes back to normal and falls out of poses. You notice Mikasa's eyes are on you and Jean as his arm slips away from around your shoulder. A knot twists in your stomach with an unpleasant feeling even though she is smiling at you. The feeling you try to ignore as you push your chair back away from the table and stand to your feet.

You follow along with everyone outside of the restaurant, Armin leading the group with Eren by his side, and to Armin's left was Mikasa. You fell somewhere in between the mix of everyone, with Jean still right beside you, of course. You were holding casual conversation all the way out of the building until you hear Eren call out your name. Your attention is pulled to the front of the group, noticing Eren had stopped to turn around and look for you.

"Yes?" you continue to make your approach.

"Would you be up to stopping by the frat? We are going to play some games before calling it a night if you'd like to join, we are all heading that way from here."

"Sure, I don't see why not," you pull out your phone to contact your taxi service, "I just need the address for my uber."

Jean's large hand fans for your attention, "don't worry about wasting money and calling an uber, I can drive us back to the house," Jean's hand digs into his pants pocket as he pulls out his set of keys.

[volfoss]

Doll faceup under cut (word heavy lmao)

I picked up this Dollzone Mo for pretty cheap because he was VERY old and yellowed (made in 2010 so he's very old!!) And the more that i thought about the direction I wanted to go with him, the more I realized I really wanted to reshell (basically same oc but in a different doll sculpt) one of my old dolls that i got rid of years ago. I had sent the original doll off to get his faceup done by a friend but had unfortunately deleted all the pics of this doll so all I had to go off was memory and not a muscle memory of doing the faceups years ago or pictures. He's not the same sculpt but he has a lot of the same features, ie the pouty lips, nose, and eye shape so I was pretty happy that when I got him yesterday, I could FEEL that it was gonna be the right doll to reshell Theo (old dolls name) into. The faceup was definitely a more complicated matter as Theo had a very natural looking faceup which um. Not my strong suit, I love doing big dramatic makeup but I was trying to recapture the same vibes i had from my old doll. With how yellowed he was, I also had to work with that when I was blushing as to not make the head TOO yellow or red. Thankfully I work on yellowed resin a lot so I was moderately confident that I'd be ok.

^ blank sculpt (isn't he so cute 🥺) and the first coat of pastels (hard to see there but they are there promise)

I did something a TINY bit different than my normal order of how I do a faceup and moved right onto acrylics. He has freckles all over his face so I figured doing them very early on would make it look the most natural under any other makeup I was doing. I used a toothbrush, dipped it in a warm brown-orange paint, and flicked it all over the face, cleaning up with a wet and dry q tip, purposefully leaving behind spots of pigmentation on the skin as it's something that I have under my freckles so I wanted to give Theo that too. While I was at it, I used a cool toned brown pretty close to the skin tone to add a bit of an eyeliner (in the way that it'll actually pop a bit with the eyes in place versus looking unfinished) and a waterline using a peachy pink color.

The freckles do NOT photograph super well but they look really good so I'm happy with how they turned out! I then return to the pastels to add more face shading and start on his eyebrows

The eyebrows were VERY hard to do and very scary. 1. I'm VERY bad at eyebrow symmetry. 2. The pastels weren't working so i had to only use a pencil (which I've done w a few faceups now but it was very scary). It was overall very frightening but I think I'm definitely getting a bit better at eyebrows in general :) lip blushing was started which I'll probably do a few more coats of pastel on them and then draw the lines on and be done. Really outside of that I'm nearly done :) natural faceups are a bit easier but they just are NOT what I'm used to so it's a bit of a learning curve to get it looking like a human face instead of whatever silly vibes I'm going for if I'm doing a more dramatic look

The sealant is wet here (forgot to take a pic before i sealed lol) but i just did small little darkening in some areas, I think my next coat will be adding some more shadows to the eyes and lips then I'll be done 👍)

I added some lashes as well as darkening the eyeliner and adding lip lines (hard to see in the pic but they're there 👍) and added some shadows but I finished minus the gloss! For how small he is and how I haven't done a natural faceup in 2 years, I'm pretty happy with it!

And one rq pic of him with an eye in :) I'm really happy with it and I'll have to make him a wig soonish but I'm really glad to have done my own faceup for this doll 👍

[longlistshort]

“Earth Lament”, 2023, Pigment and pencil on Aquacryl on canvas and aluminium (and detail)

“So Far So Near”, 2024, Pigment and pencil on Aquacryl on canvas and aluminium (and detail)

“Cicada”, 2023, Pigment and pencil on Aquacryl on canvas and aluminium

Currently at Lisson Gallery is Shirazeh Houshiary: The Sound of One Hand, an exhibition of the artist’s new and recent work. For the paintings she combined distinct color formations with intricate patterns drawn on the surface using pencil. The details are astounding when seen up close.

From the press release-

For her first solo show in Los Angeles for over a decade, the British artist Shirazeh Houshiary presents new and recent works, exploring the origins of life and the mysteries of the cosmos, from a microscopic cellular level, to the stratospheric phenomenon of the aurora borealis. The show’s title relates to a Zen Buddhist teaching that instructs the student to listen to the sound of one hand clapping, in order to open their mind to such a possibility and transcend the constraints of the physical body. Despite not being a Zen practitioner, Houshiary realised that her work revolves around the insistent sound made by one of her hands, making tiny, looping, scratched marks in pencil onto large aluminum surfaces, building up worlds through the silence of her inscribed words.

Houshiary’s abstract paintings emerge from an initial pour of liquid color that floods the surface in irregular pools, before she then covers these areas with her own calligraphic gestures in graphite, which are in fact tiny repetitions of the Arabic phrases: “I am” and “I am not”, which she also likens to the natural act of inhaling and exhaling. For one of the two largest works in the show, entitled Enchanter (2024), Houshiary applies red pigment and pencil to a black ground in five ring shapes, recalling structures of carbon particles linked in a chain. Matching this in scale but cooler in tone, is the painting Earth Lament (2023), with two silhouetted blue figures that somehow materialized from the sedimented pigment, one appearing to soar and the other seemingly being dragged down. This accidental figuration also occurs in the work Cicada (2023), which could just as easily be a depiction of the wings of this insect as it could be a representation of its rhythmic song. At the other end of the scale are the galactic indigo swirls of So Far So Near (2024) and the bands of ethereal light crisscrossing the work titled Aurora (2023), recalling those seen occasionally streaking across a night sky.

Occupying the floor is a sculptural installation in nine parts, made from an open latticework of aluminum bricks in blue and green hues, each with the same footprint, but all at different heights, growing at increments of one layer at a time (the shortest has five layers, the highest thirteen). Entitled Maelstrom (2022), these curved forms, both hard and supple at the same time, recall not only the molecular structures of the red painting Enchanter, or “that primeval storm within the spiral of creation where something grows,” as the artist puts it, but also the shape of the ouroboros snake eating its own tail.

A second sculpture, seemingly another form defying logic and gravity, bursts from the wall. Its two sinuous, entangled lines are the artist’s approximation of the movement of a solitary wave – lending it the name Soliton (2024) – which is a type of swelling or surging motion that is not dependent on previous pulses, or followed by other waves. From such unfathomable objects, to minute molecules and gigantic expanses of space, Houshiary’s artworks represent a journey through everything from the chaos and messiness of the Big Bang to the silent contemplation of the resulting energies that surround every one of us.

This exhibition closes 11/2/24.

[victressbeautylounge]

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Redefine Brows with Microblading Services In Mumbai 

Microblading is the art of integrating semi-permanent eyebrows into your natural ones. At Victress Beauty Lounge, Eyebrow Microblading in Mumbai, we shape your brows precisely so the overall appearance gels as per your facial structure. The artists of Victress Beauty Lounge make sure that you don’t have to deal with the use of eyebrow pencils again for a long time to come and carry the same look throughout the day for many months to come.  

For anyone with patchy or inconsistent brows, microblading eyebrows in Mumbai could be the way to go. The eyebrow microblading cost in India allows you to purchase the process that includes tattooing brow strokes on a designated area to give you a natural texture of the brow. So, your brows not only have a definite shape but also look consistent for a long tenure. Our microblading services process engraves pigments into your skin but the depth differs when compared to tattoos. So, you’ll need a touch after a year or around. Since we needle the pigment at a calculated depth in your skin, over years, your body will naturally exclude it.  

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[jmkartworks]

A Passenger: Sketchbook Page – Pencil, watercolor, collage – 8.5 x 11 inches.

A flight between Sacramento and Seattle normally takes about two hours, so there was enough time to draw a fairly accurate likeness of the man in the window seat. Watercolors are too messy for me to use on an airplane, so I added colors later in the studio.

Colors: Students sometimes ask me what colors to use when painting non-white people. From the point of view of artists, “white” and “black;” are just words; humans are all lighter or darker mishmashes of different shades of "beige." My answer is: use variations of the same pigments you would use to paint anybody, that is, two warm colors and a cool one: a red, a yellow and a blue. Or a vermillion, ochre and green. In this case, I used Quinacridone Red, Raw Sienna, and Viridian, both for the man's hair and skin. I used black only on his eyeglasses.

Studio: Visitors are often surprised to find my studio “orderly,” by which they mean “not messy.” Then they look at my sketchbooks. "Messy!" Usually the pages are invariably messy because they reflect whatever happens to interest me at the moment, like the wine label, color swatches, Spanish stamp and repro of the Fool card from the Tarot. Plus, sketches are messy like rehearsals for concerts are messy; the artists are trying to figure things out so that the finished product appears smooth and natural

⁂

More posts on my website: JohnMichaelKeating.com

Other links: [this post on my website] [about my new book]

[makeupwithskincare123]

MAKEUP WITH SKINCARE

INTRODUCTION:

The correct makeup routine order:

1.Use a CTM routine to prepare your skin.

2.Apply a primer.

3.Put a base in place.

4.Use a concealer to hide troublesome spots.

5.Put some blush on.

6.It's time to apply some eye makeup.

7.mascara, kajal, and eye liner.

8.Put on your go-to lipstick hue. Using a lip pencil is essential before applying lipstick.

BENEFITS:

There are many advantages to combining skincare and cosmetics in your beauty routine. These products are made to do more than simply make your face seem nice; they also work to improve the appearance and health of your skin at the same time. The following are the main benefits of using skincare-infused cosmetic products that are essential.

1. Flexibility

Using skincare products with makeup simplifies your beauty routine by eliminating two steps. You receive the nourishing benefits your skin longs for in addition to the coverage you want. For instance, you can use an almond oil-infused foundation to balance out your skin tone and benefit from the nourishing and moisturizing properties of almond oil for your skin. 

2. Better Texture of the Skin 

Ingredients including hyaluronic acid, salicylic acid, peptides, and others that help enhance skin texture are found in many hybrid makeup products.  Your skin can appear smoother, more youthful, and have less pigmentation and dark patches when you use makeup products that contain vitamin C.

3. Sunscreen

Certain hybrid items have sunscreens integrated into them to offer an additional degree of defense against UV radiation. The SPF rating of these sunscreen-infused makeup items helps prevent UV damage, much way vitamin C in skincare products does.

4. Hydration The formulation of cosmetic products includes ingredients like hyaluronic acid, glycerin, aloe vera, and ceramides to help keep your skin moisturized all day. Many cosmetic products with hybrid skincare ingredients claim tomaintain moisture levels in the skin because it's crucial for having healthy skin, makeup or not.

5. Extended Advantages

In fact, skincare products combined with makeup can promote healthier, more brighter skin when used regularly. This is because your skin troubles are taken care of even when you wear these hybrid cosmetic items.

Choose the appropriate cosmetics for your skin type:

Similar to skincare, there is no one-size-fits-all skincare and cosmetics routine. Different makeup application methods, materials, and formulae are needed for different skin types. Knowing what kind of makeup to use on your skin type—oily, dry, or a mix of the two—can make all the difference.

Oily skin:

It is best to use non-comedogenic, lightweight, oil-free products on oily skin because they won't clog pores. Remember to wash your face twice before using any makeup.

Oily skin types frequently have apparent open pores. For this reason, pore-blurring primer is ideal for this type of skin. Additionally, choose a tinted moisturizer with a mattifying effect or a foundation with a matte finish. Use a compact or loose powder to set your foundation to ensure that your makeup does not run off. To keep extra oil under control during the day, use blotting papers.

Dry skin:

Select a moisturizing tinted moisturiser that will nourish and moisturize dry skin, or a dewy or satin finish foundation. Matte or powder-finish foundations should be avoided, as should powder-based makeup because it might draw attention to dryness. Use powder-based makeup sparingly. For a dewy look, use a hydrating fixing spray to finish your makeup.

Combination skin:

If your skin type is combination, with dry cheeks and an oily T-zone, use moisturizing products on your cheeks and oil-free, lightweight products on your T-zone. Likewise, choose a moisturizing foundation for the cheekbones and a matte texture foundation for the T-zone.

To be safe, use a mattifying primer after using a water-based moisturizer before applying makeup. Transparent powder is a better option for setting makeup because it is lighter and prevents cake-like effects. Use less highlighter if at the end of the day your skin appears greasy and shiny. If your cheeks are dry, use a liquid highlighter. Use a matte setting spray to finish your makeup.

Sensitive skin:

Check product labels for terms like fragrance-free, hypoallergenic, non-irritating, and anti-inflammatory if you have sensitive skin. Choose makeup that is based on minerals because these formulas typically don't include irritating chemicals or dyes and additives.

To prevent irritating your skin, remove your makeup with natural washing balms rather than wipes. Don't use too many active ingredients in your skincare products.

Acne-prone skin:

Use non-comedogenic products to prevent clogging your pores and escalating your acne if you have acne-prone skin. If you have dry skin in the areas surrounding your non-acneous acne, apply a cleanser along with a little scrub or exfoliant. Use a tinted moisturizer or a light foundation that contains benzoyl peroxide or salicylic acid, two substances known to combat acne.

Mineral-based makeup is another tried-and-true option for skin prone to acne. Steer clear of greasy, thick products that might block pores.