#watercolors next! but i think very very light
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krampus-chai · 4 days ago
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The Wolf's Head pt 2. Inks.
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creature-wizard · 11 days ago
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Some ways to recognize AI generated images (other than counting the fingers!)
Hey folks! Since a lot of people out there are still getting taken in by AI images, I thought I'd do a post to help you spot some common tells in AI generated imagery. (All of these images come from Pixabay.) Since this turned out to be a really long post, I've put the rest of it under the cut.
Unnatural shininess and smoothness
AI generated images frequently have an unnatural smoothness to them. Here's a really obvious example:
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These are supposed to be blueberries, but they're way too shiny. They look more like glass than actual fruit!
Here's an example that's a little less obvious:
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At first glance, it's easy to miss that this is a procedurally generated image. But if you take a moment and look close, you can see an unnatural smoothness to this image. Compare with this real photograph below:
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The real photo has a slight graininess to it, plus the berries themselves display more texture.
Here are more images displaying unnatural smoothness:
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Exaggerated facial and body proportions
If a person or animal in an image that appears to be a photograph has cartoonish or caricaturish proportions, that's a sign the image is AI generated.
First, we'll start with a really obvious example. While I don't think the person who had this generated meant for it to be taken as photorealistic, it's still a good example of exaggerated proportions.
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Now here's the less obvious example:
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If you just glanced at this image, you might think this was a real child. But if you look for a moment longer, you'll notice that her head is slightly too big for her body proportions, and her eyes are slightly too big and round. (And of course, her toes are messed up.)
For comparison, here's a real child:
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The real child's head is smaller, and the eyes don't have that cartoony look.
Here's an image of a baby that could pass as real at first glance... until you realize the eyes are too big and round, and it's making Dreamworks face! (Also, the brows and lashes are unnaturally smooth and the skin looks plasticky!)
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For comparison, here's a real baby:
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Melty-looking detailwork
AI images that are supposed to depict fantasy, divine, and historical figures often feature an extreme level of detailing. But if you look close, you'll see that this detailwork is usually a mess.
Here's a very obvious example:
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If you look at her tiara, you can see that the center gem is actually floating above the rest, which is a dead giveaway that this is procedurally generated. Also, her tiara lacks symmetry and evenness where it should have it.
Here's another example:
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Again, this is clearly a piece that should have symmetry in the metalwork, but has that uneven melty look so common in AI imagery.
And a less obvious example:
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This one isn't as extreme as the others, but if you're familiar with the way AI "melts" details, you can recognize its work. (Also, her right earring is lower than it should be, and where her face is clearly meant to imitate an oil painting, her dress looks like a watercolor painting!)
Meanwhile, here's a real photograph of a tiara:
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I'd also like to emphasize here that asymmetry on its own doesn't indicate AI! Many people create asymmetrical designs on purpose. The thing to really watch out for is melty-looking shapes and unevenness in things that shouldn't look melty or uneven.
Unnatural crispness and detail
AI image generators often lean toward high-contrast tones, which frequently makes images look unnaturally crisp. Here's a really obvious example:
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Let's compare with a real photo of the Sphinx!
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Quite a bit of difference, huh?
This faux Greek statue might be a bit harder:
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This appears to depict a Greek-styled statue, but - look at the face! The crispness in the light and shadows gives this away as AI generated. (There's also no staining on the face, even though we see it on the next.)
For comparison, a real statue:
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This has turned into a huge post, so I'm gonna call this good for now. Not each and every AI generated image will have these tells, but you'll be able to recognize a lot more AI generated images if you keep them in mind. If you'd like to get even better at recognizing AI generated images, you might go to the website I got them from - Pixabay - and search for "AI generated." Load the pictures at higher resolutions, pay attention to the details, and compare them with human-mage images. While you'll find that many AI generated images are very hard to distinguish from human-made ones, you'll start picking up on more of AI's idiosyncracies.
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springtyme · 2 months ago
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for the 🍂 can we have some aaron hotch x female reader where she is bonding with jack after having become his step mom? i would love that. your writing is so beautiful and i love how you write very much 🧡thank you
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 ♡
Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader || Main masterlist || Spotify
summary: After having dated Aaron for a good while and becoming close with his son, you've finally taken the next step and moved in with them. Now, the three of you are taking a weekend trip to bond as a family.
word count: 1.2k
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𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟗) 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞
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The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels resonates in your chest as you glance out the window, the vibrant hues of fall foliage blurring into a watercolor of oranges, reds, and yellows. The crisp air sneaks in through the slightly cracked window, carrying with it the scent of earth and damp leaves. You’re on a much-anticipated trip with Aaron and Jack. It's a rare moment of respite away from the complexities of the BAU for Aaron, and a chance for you to bond as a new family. 
Jack is sitting in the seat next to you, drawing a very colorful picture of a dog. He has been drawing a lot of dogs lately, which he has strategically left around the house. Aaron showed you one he had found in his briefcase folder the other day, tucked neatly between pages filled with reports. ‘Guess we have to give that boy a dog,’ you had said. You can’t help but smile as you look down at the little boy next to you, his concentration evident in the way his brow furrows slightly as he adds streaks of green for rolling hills and bright blue for the sky. 
You had been scared to take on the role of stepmom, afraid of doing it wrong, but it’s now been two months since you moved in with Aaron and Jack, and it has been a surprisingly easy experience. Every day feels like a new adventure, filled not only with the challenge of blending into a family but also with the simple joys of watching Jack grow and express himself.
You turn your head and catch a glimpse of Aaron across the aisle. He’s engrossed in a book, brows furrowed in that familiar way that only intensifies his rugged good looks. There’s something utterly comforting about the way he immerses himself in stories, yet you find it somewhat amusing that he always manages to select the most serious literature, even amidst the simplicity of a train ride.
“Dad,” Jack’s voice breaks the quiet, pulling you from your thoughts. He leans forward, resting his elbows and forearms on the table, eyes wide with uncontained excitement. “Can we get hot cocoa when we stop?”
Aaron’s gaze lifts from his book, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Sure, buddy. How about we find a café and grab some pastries too?”
Jack practically bounces in his seat, and you feel an overwhelming warmth at the sight of Aaron with his son. After years of navigating the complexities of being a single dad and a dedicated agent, seeing him cherish these moments of joy lights you up inside. 
You lean forward, resting your chin on your hands. “I think that sounds like a perfect plan. We should make it a tradition every time we travel in the fall.”
Jack whips his head, looking up at you with wide, excited eyes as he nod eagerly at your idea. 
Aaron sets his book down, shifting his full attention to you and Jack. “Tradition it is.” His eyes lock with yours, a spark passing between you as the train looms forward.
A few minutes pass, filled with the sounds of the train and Jack’s enthusiastic recounting of his latest school project. You steal moments to appreciate Aaron across from you—the way his hair falls just slightly over his forehead, the way he listens intently to Jack, genuinely engaged, his expression softening as he nods with pride.
You can’t help but smile as Jack’s laughter ricochets around the compartment, a melody you find comforting. This is what you wanted—a family. And in this cozy train cart, it feels as though everything is right in the world.
Suddenly, Aaron reaches across the aisle, his hand brushing against yours. The gentle connection sends a flutter through your chest, and you look over, meeting his gaze. There’s a tenderness there, a silent affirmation of how far you’ve come together, how much you’ve both invested in this newfound family.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, his voice low, almost a whisper among the noises of the train.
You chuckle softly, your cheeks warming. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you say, shifting in your seat to fully face him. 
His thumb brushes against your knuckles thoughtfully, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you. “I’m the lucky one,” he replies, his eyes shining with sincerity. “We’re making great memories. If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I’d be able to enjoy them as much.”
Your heart swells at his words. “You’re a great dad, Aaron. It’s really inspiring.”
He shakes his head slightly, as if the compliment makes him shy. “It’s easy to be good when you have you two in my life.”
Before another word can unravel between you, Jack bangs a fist on the table in excitement. “Look! The trees are all yellow and red! Can we take a picture?” 
You laugh at his infectious energy and nod enthusiastically. “Absolutely!” 
You open your purse and take out the disposable camera you had bought for your trip and hand it to Jack. You help him reposition it so he can capture the vivid scenery outside. As he angles the camera towards the window, he squeals in delight. He takes a picture of the scenery outside the window before turning to point the camera at Aaron. 
“Say cheese, dad!” Jack giggles, and you can’t help but laugh at his infectious joy, which bounces between you and Aaron like a pulse of happiness. 
Aaron obliges and Jack snaps a picture of his dad, giggling with excitement before handling the camera over to Aaron. 
“Now take one of us!” Jack urges, his eyes sparkling with thrill.
Aaron takes the camera, looking between you and Jack, a soft smile spreading across his face. There’s a shared warmth in the space between the three of you, a cocoon of laughter and happiness that feels almost magical. You place your arm around Jack and he leans against you, your heart fluttering with warm affection as you pull him a little closer.
“Alright, big smiles,” Aaron says, lifting the camera to capture the moment. You make a silly face while Jack beams with joy, his mouth wide open in a grin, a perfect reflection of the pure happiness radiating from him.
The click of the camera echoes in the small compartment, sealing the memory of this perfect moment in time. As the train chugs along, the afternoon sun begins to dip a little lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow through the window. You see the sparkle in Jack’s eyes, the way he revels in the joy of the here and now, and the warmth of Aaron’s presence feels like a comforting embrace.
“You think we’ll remember this day forever?” Jack asks, his voice a soft whisper, batting those big eyes up at you both.
Smiling down at him, you nod. “Absolutely, buddy. This is the start of many wonderful adventures together.”
Aaron gazes at you, a knowing smile gracing his lips, and in that moment, you realize the truth of your words. The laughter, the love, and the memories you’re weaving—they’re not just moments; they’re the foundation of your new family.
The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels becomes a soothing lullaby, wrapping around you all as you lean back into your seat, Jack snuggled against you, and Aaron’s hand resting gently on your knee. Outside, the world blurs into a tapestry of colors, mirroring the vibrant joy in your heart.
In this fleeting moment, you understand that together, you’re crafting a life filled with warmth, laughter, and unbreakable bonds—a life that feels just right.
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kentopedia · 3 months ago
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˚₊‧꒰ა what is and what should never be — levi ackerman
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𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. you wake up with the man you've always loved, but the sky seems too blue and the world too safe. maybe it's just your imagination.
𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. fluff, sfw, written with f!reader in mind but no gendered terms used, domestic life, established relationship, angst, wc: 1.7k
𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. tbh this is nothing special, but i'm trying to wrap up some wips and organize myself for october lol
part of my summerween series !
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“Is everything alright, love?” 
You glanced back over your shoulder, mug still warm in your palm, to see Levi’s brows pinched, his eyes tracing across your features. He was looking for signs of distress, though you smiled in return shaking your head.
“I’m just trying to remember if there's ever been a time I was this happy,” you said, explaining your uncharacteristic silence.
At that, Levi softened, his expression no longer tight, lips curling up at the corners. “I see,” he said, standing from his seat at the table, to come stand by you.
Levi walked behind you, his arm curling around your waist, as he pressed a gentle kiss between your shoulder-blades. He said nothing, but his hands were gentle as they traced small patterns down your sides, his nose brushing your cheeks as he pressed a kiss to your jaw. 
You stared ahead, smiling wider, your heart pounding from pure joy. An unpreventable warmth spread across your face, and you sighed wistfully, gazing at the clouds in the startlingly blue sky. 
It was beautiful outside, a mild day, temperatures warm enough to laze around in the radiant light, but cool enough for a coat. The sun shone over the rolling fields beyond you, trees sprouting, flowers blooming in a garden around them. There was a small stream on the other side, one that curved beside your home, before fading out into the distance, bringing life to everything around it. 
Sometimes, it was hard to believe that this even was your life, the perfect landscape like something from a fairytale, a dream. To think that this had once been the territory of Titans — well, that seemed almost unbelievable. 
You’d built a life here with Levi, even if you couldn’t quite remember what events led into the next, how you'd gone from soldiers to a romantic marriage.
Fighting day after day tended to put gaps in your memory. The battles had worn thinly on you when you crawled into bed, exhausted and desperate to put the deaths out of your mind. 
It had been worth it, at the end of it all. 
You turned back to Levi, leaning forward to kiss him, smiling against his lips. Tea splashed between you, hot liquid burning through your sweater. But you didn’t mind, the taste of mint on Levi’s lips enough to distract you from the dampness on your clothes. 
“I love you,” he said, and though it wasn’t the first time, it squeezed your heart tightly, winding it up and stretching it out. He’d been all you'd ever wanted, this life had been all you ever wanted, and here it was, delivered to you with a perfect pretty bow. 
You could’ve cried, but instead, you curled your free hand around his cheek to kiss him harder. This time, you withheld an I love you, if only to show him with your actions. He appreciated that more, from time to time. Words could have very little meaning — even ones like that. 
Levi drew back, resting his forehead on your own, blue irises lighting up to match the sky. Even his eyes had changed from when you were younger. The once steely navy of his soldier days had turned peaceful, painted into him with watercolors. 
“You make me so happy,” you said, and a tear did slip from your eyes then, even if you didn’t know why. “I never want to lose you.” 
Levi's smile was just as wide, but there was something sad about it, something that shifted, turning inside out as he held you. “We don’t have to fight anymore,” he said, holding you closer. “We’re safe here.” 
“There might be another battle someday, Levi. A war. What if we get called back, or there’s Titans once again. I…” You trailed off, shaking your head as you breathed heavily. “I don’t want to go back to that.” 
Levi kissed your forehead, his fingers wiping the dampness off your cheeks. “You don’t have to. It can all be over if you want. Just stay here with me.” 
You pulled away from him, lips parting as you watched his face flash like a shadow. There was his old self again — the harder, rougher version of him, staring at you with blank emotion. It was still there, under everything, and the more you stared, the more it evolved. 
“I will,” you promised, but that sounded weak, a promise that was doomed to be broken. 
A pressure began on your chest, like your heart was pumping blood through you faster than your body could handle. You dug your nails into him tightly, swallowing over and over to dispel the pain.
But it came upon you fast, and you were caving in a matter of moments, toppling forward as you breathed heavily over your knees.
“What’s wrong?” Levi asked, rushing to your side, but you couldn’t focus. His fingers were cold, icicles scratching across your face. You made an attempt to lean away from him, but he was impossibly close, his breath ghosting across the bridge of your nose.
"I don't know," you said, but it was nothing more than a whisper, every syllable more breathy than the last.
Your vision turned white, a different light burning the back of your irises. Oxygen filled up your lungs — more than you needed. You thought they might burst, or float up out of your chest, soaked in the blood and remains of your insides.
Levi did nothing but stare at you, and when you tried to say his name again, nothing came out. At your side, your arms were weak, flopping around like bricks. You couldn't move.
You squeezed your eyes tight, crying out silently.
When you opened them once again, your Levi wasn't there at all. It was the old him, soaked in blood, wearing the emerald cape of the scouts' uniform. 
Levi’s eyes were still narrowed, dark as he scanned your body, tension draining from his shoulders. “You're alive,” he said, exhaling. "We weren't sure you were going to make it."
He looked over, gesturing another man forward, this one a doctor. There was a clipboard under his arm, some medicine in his hand.
The room was such a bright white you closed your eyes again, breathing in and out, easing your increasing anxiety. Even the light shuffling of the doctor's feet was enough to give you a splitting headache.
Something prodded at your temple, and you winced, a sharper pain taking to your head. Your eyes snapped back opened, glaring up at the doctor.
“Do you remember what happened? Who you are?” he asked.
For a moment, you didn’t. Then, memories came flooding back to you.
In the midst of battle, your gear had malfunctioned, and you’d been flung against a tree in an attempt to dodge the hands of a Titan. You remembered it reaching out to you, the pain when you flew hard against the trunk. Then, nothing. 
“I do,” you nodded, avoiding Levi’s eyes. You remembered the feeling of his lips on your skin, too. “I don’t know how I’m still alive.”
“You’re very lucky to be,” the doctor said, scanning through his notes. “Even luckier that none of your injuries seem to be permanent. You’ll have to stay here for a few more days, to make sure nothing else shows itself, now that you’re awake. Otherwise, you should be able to leave with only some bruises and a concussion. It's a miracle, really.” 
You nodded, but even that hurt. Your neck was stiff from all the sleeping. “Thank you,” you said, the words scratchy against your throat. 
The doctor left, leaving you and Levi alone. Warmth flooded your cheeks, the decade old love you'd had for him suffocating you.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Levi said, his words as neutral as they would be to any other soldier. 
You sighed, turning your head away from him. "You shouldn't have gone back for me. You could've died."
“Don’t say that,” he snapped. For once, you were surprised by the passion in his voice. “We’re both fine, and we can’t afford to lose anymore soldiers.” Levi exhaled, the small emotion that had leaked into his words fading away. “Besides. I've lost enough friends.” 
Normally, an unbearable heat would creep up on you when Levi called you a friend. It meant you were special, someone he trusted and kept close by. You were lucky to even be that.
Now, though, even your friendship was soured by your thoughts of the dream. A life where you were happy, where he loved you just as much as you’d always loved him. 
That’s all it was though, all it’d always been: a dream. Levi would never love you, and you’d always been a fool to think so. 
You forced a smile, exhaling a dark laugh. “Sorry. I just feel like shit. I think death might have been kinder.”
It would have been. Death would have been beautiful if it meant you got to spend eternity in Levi's arms, with kisses that felt like you were his whole world. 
“Maybe.” Levi said, skeptical. “Honestly, I don’t know anymore.”
You could hear the defeat in his words, something he didn’t let many others see. But you’d been there for Levi in some of his darker moments, too, and this was nothing special. That's what friends were for.
“Get some rest, okay?" he continued. "I’ll come back when I can.” 
You didn't know when that would be. A week, maybe. Levi was a busy man. 
“Okay." You conceded, hoping your disappointment wasn't evident. "Have a good night, Levi. I—”
Levi stopped and turned back around, waiting for you to finish your sentence. But you’d cut yourself off, horrified by how easily you’d almost let your secret slip. It had been years that you'd been holding back and I love you, and for the first time, you'd almost let it go.
You smiled tightly, the back of your throat burning. “I appreciate you always looking out for me. Thank you.” 
He nodded, and left without another word. 
The pain in your head migrated to your chest instead, and your heart squeezed painfully.
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thank you so much for reading! ❤︎ this one was inspired by episode 2x20 of supernatural, with the same title <3
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loserlvrss · 4 months ago
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꒰ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 ꒱ 이상혁
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summary : it was nights like these that brought you firsts, and now you'd finally realized the significance of your feelings for him
genre : fluff, riwoo x afab!reader, childhood-friends-to-lovers tws : mentions of alcohol/being drunk, kiss author notes : i want him so bad (based on a date i had with my pookie yesterday) word count : 1.2k
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first dates weren’t really your thing. you didn't like having to explain all the things that made up you, while also being overly conscious of whether they’d like it or not. you despised the small talk or awkward pauses. you dreaded having to wonder what if this or what if that.
but now that you were on a first date with one of your closest friends, you had no idea what to do. he already knew everything about your personal lore—hell, he’d been there for half of it. he knew your favorite flavor of dr. pepper and what movie you’d been dying to see. you didn’t have to wonder if he liked you. you didn’t have to worry about if he’d think the sound you made while sneezing was weird or cute. or if he’d text you back the next day.
 however, you did wonder when he’d started to see you in a different light. you wondered where the lines started to blur, almost like watercolor. you wondered when you stopped just being a friend to him. you even almost asked, promptly stopping yourself from opening a can of worms you weren’t sure you were prepared to clean up. 
there was a first for everything though, and dating a friend definitely was—especially someone as perfect as riwoo, someone as kind and gentle as your closest guy-friend. you were always that person who told him to never settle for the girls who literally ate him alive. you were always the one who would try and set him up with nice enough people (to your standards) that you’d met during nights out or classes. you were always the person who kept it casual—strictly platonic—but through stolen glances you couldn't say it was, now. 
“is this weird?” riwoo’s soft voice snapped you from your reverie. “is this too weird?”
your eyebrows creased. “no,” you stated simply. “just… unexpected.”
he leaned back on his hands. “why’s that?” his head aimed to the sky, dusk settling onto it. 
you relished in the warmth of the setting sun, a shiver running throughout your body. “just because…” you trailed off, taking in the lustrous green of early august. this was one of your favorite parks, and riwoo knew that. that’s exactly why he suggested meeting you here. “i guess, i never expected it to be me.” 
through your peripheral you could see his eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “why wouldn’t it be you, y/n?” your cheeks heated at his words, fighting the urge to shy away in embarrassment. “it’s always been you.” 
“oh…” you whispered out, mimicking his lean as you sat next to him. you tried to distract from the fact that your insides were twisting and how your heart beat ever-so-slightly faster. you’d never seen him casted under such a beautiful light—literally and metaphorically. the sky was a breathtaking mixture of pink and orange hues, clouds fluffy like the fair cotton candy that you and riwoo would eat once a year together when it’d stop in your town.
truthfully, you’d also never felt this way about anyone. you’d known riwoo for the better part of your life and he’d always been your closest confidant. of course there was one point when you’d developed a very, very (obviously, very) small crush on him during your freshman year. how could you not? you weren’t blind, after all. nonetheless, you swallowed that as quickly as it had rose, ultimately deciding that being friends was better than something that could potentially end complicated. 
you wondered if he had weighed the odds. you wondered when the feelings grew strong enough to cast away any doubts of it not working out. if he was willing to take the risk. you wondered when his heart began to beat for you. and you wondered when yours started the same rhythm.
was it when he started to work out, changing from the awkward boy you’d met in middle school to the well-defined abs and arms now? was it when he started to smile with his eyes, opening up to everyone around him? was it when he became sure of himself, full of confidence? or when he’d pay attention to every little detail about you, remembering things you sometimes would forget about yourself? was it when he walked with you everyday in highschool? or when you got drunk for the first time and kissed him in the parking lot of a krispy kreme your sophomore year? 
or maybe it was none—and all of them combined—that solidified the feelings deep within you. you always knew it somewhere deep down, that all your past lovers resembled him in one way or another. he was someone you always kept close, even if he wasn’t with you. 
“y/n,” he asked breathily, basking in the final moments before the sun had fully set. “can i ask you something?” but if the question of which was prettier—the man at your side or the sunset in front of you—were to ever arise, you fear the answer would be simple: riwoo, with his soft features, confident aura, and gentle personality. every time. 
you bit the inside of your cheek. “yes.”
“why’d you try and set me up throughout high school?”
if he had asked you a couple days ago, you would’ve been sure of your answer, but now that he was looking into your side-profile, scanning you over, you weren’t so sure. it used to be because you wanted him to have someone kind who treated him the way you knew he’d treat them. you wanted him to be happily in love, and off the market… so he could finally be off your mind. 
“i just wanted you to find someone nice. i’m sorry if i overstepped.”
he hummed contemplatively, clearly not satisfied with your answer. “can i ask you something else?”
you fought with gulping a dry throat. “sure.”
“why’d you say yes if that was the case?” your heart felt like it skipped a beat. “are you that someone nice now?”
your eyes met, time freezing in the lingering heat of summer. you had never felt warmer. there was no doubt a blush was littering your cheeks, hands shaking against the blanket you had brought from the backseat of your car. 
“can i ask you something, riwoo?” you ignored his question, though he didn’t seem to mind, humming in acceptance. your eyes flickered to a place you shouldn't have dreamt about, but his lips always looked so inviting. and, from what you could remember, they lived up to the reputation you made up in your head all those years ago. “...can i kiss you?”
darkness had set, the lamps following the bike path lighting up in sync. it was cinematic, and you would have laughed at the clicheness of the situation if you weren't so focused on your distance that gradually closed. all the surrounding sounds; crickets chirping and cicadas singing, even kids' screeches from the nearby playground faded out, like it was only you two on the entire planet.
“if you’ll be mine?”
before your lips could touch, you mumbled, “have been for a while,” against him, meeting halfway. It was like fireworks went off inside you, setting your heart aflame and illuminating the stars behind your eyes. he knew you were perfect for him, and you’d never (ever) thought the opposite of him. his touch was something soft that grounded all your worries. it always had been. his voice was the sole thing that pulled you out of dark places, it always had been. and it always would be. 
there was a first for everything, but you were glad it was riwoo on the other end. after all, it was the summer-nights like these that you’d grow to remember forever.
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reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!
— perm tag list .ᐟ @whyilovewhales-pdf @lynnimini @gluion @greentulip @slytherinshua | send an ask to be added c: ( thanks for the help xixi ily @0310s )
— network tag list .ᐟ @onedoornet @blossomnet
— back to masterlist .ᐟ
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hotchnerxo · 8 months ago
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Make a difference
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x single mom!reader Words: 1.8k Summary: You're feeling insignificant and overwhelmed. Aaron's making sure you never forget your worth. Warnings: Anxiety and some intrusive thoughts. Nothing major, a bit of hurt/comfort and fluff A/N: This can be read separately, but also if you're familiar with my 'The chances you take' fic, this is set between chapters 13 and 14. This is dedicated to everyone who’s been having a hard time lately and days are a struggle. I am very proud of you <3
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~~~
You watch steam rise from the coffee you’re pouring into your thermos. It’s probably your sixth cup of today, but you fill it anyway. Once satisfied with the amount, you screw back on the purple lid and grasp the mug in your hands. Its warmth is grounding and you admire the watercolor lavenders on its surface. But despite all that, your mind has wandered far off. 
You’ve been a part of the team for quite some time now and you couldn’t be happier with the way they have welcomed you into their family. You’re thankful for every single one of them and you wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else. 
But still, this moment feels off. It’s overwhelming and tiring; it’s confusing. All of the sudden there’s a harsh voice in your head screaming that you don’t belong. That no one would notice if you just walked away from this. You’re not sure whose voice it is in your mind, but it is eerie. Thoughts like this have been with you for a long time, but whenever things get overwhelming, your self doubt gets stronger. 
You’ve come to lean on the kitchenette counter, nursing your warm coffee between your hands. The bullpen is loud, but blurring in your mind. There’s no conversation to follow, just a lot of sounds coming from all around; chatter, typing, rustling paper and so on. But the racing of your thoughts keeps you too busy from paying attention to things around you. You couldn’t even hear the footsteps coming closer to you. 
“Left some for me?” he asks, but gets no reaction from you. Few seconds later you hear your name being called which distracts your mental spiral. 
“Huh?” you hear yourself asking instinctively. How long had Hotchner been standing next to you? You have no idea, but when you turn to look at him, he already has concern written all over him. Apparently he’s been there long enough. 
“Left any coffee for me?” he repeats his question, giving you another moment to get your thoughts together. Your attention moves towards the pot of coffee, just to see there’s only a drop left in it. 
The thoughts of self blame start to raise their head again. There is sort of an unspoken rule in the office: whoever takes the last cup of coffee, needs to make a new one. That way there’s always something for the next person coming in. You’ve just now broken that rule and the guilt of it is strong. Way stronger than what it should be. It’s such a minor thing, but it feels more like you’ve majorly screwed up and should be fired on the spot. 
“Sorry! I’ll make a new pot, it will be just a few minutes” you apologize quickly, interrupting your brain from catastrophizing the situation. 
“It’s alright. I think I’ll be fine” he reassures with a gentle smile. Your tone must have been more panicky than you thought as he does his best to diffuse your anxiety so quickly. “Here, let me help you” he says softly and goes to grab a filter and the coffee grounds before you get to them. You thank him quietly as you fill the machine with more water. You watch him measure the grounds and within a few seconds, your mistake no longer exists.
Your cup is back in your hands and your eyes follow the man as he puts the ingredients back into the cabinets. You lean to the table, leaving the rest of the office behind you. At some point during the day, he’s taken his suit off and rolled the sleeves of his light blue shirt. The stripes on the shirt are barely noticeable from afar, but you enjoy the small detail. 
“You’ve seemed really distracted today” his warm voice brings you back to the present moment. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks before you get to reassure him that you’re fine. He looks sincere and with your time at the bureau, you’ve learned how easy he is to talk to. And ever after the christmas party at Rossi’s a week ago, you’ve craved for his company. 
“It’s nothing” you sigh and you both know that isn’t true. But he doesn’t argue with you. Instead, he falls quiet and waits. He waits for you to find the right words to sum up the storm in your mind. “At times I just feel~” you pause, turning your eyes down to your hands. “~I don't know, insignificant”. You can feel his eyes burning on your skin, but you’re too afraid to look back up. 
He wants to say something, but he closes his mouth before any words come out. He can tell there’s still something else that you haven’t been able to word yet. 
“I just don’t feel like I make a difference” you continue. Few seconds go by until you gain courage to look back up towards him. It was his turn to fall deep into his thoughts, trying to find something meaningful to say. You see him fidget with his left hand fingers, which you’ve learned he does when he’s nervous or carefully thinking something through. 
“You know” he begins after a moment of consideration. His gaze lifts up again and only the way he looks at you makes all of the self doubt fade away. He doesn’t need words, his presence alone is all you need to calm down, but he continues nevertheless “when Ella was over for a sleepover with Jack, she asked me what my favorite color is”. You’re not really sure how that connects to the subject at hand, but you’re curious. “but before I could answer, she really wanted to guess. After some time of thinking, her whole face lit up and says purple. She was so sure about it and there was no way I could deny that”.
“Why are you telling me this?” you ask and take a sip of your coffee for the first time 
There it is again; the small smile that you’re sure lights up your whole day. You love the way his whole stoic exterior melts away: his brow softens and a warm sparkle appears in his eyes again. And when he smiles, you can see dimples forming on his cheeks. 
“I’m telling you this because after that, everytime I see the color purple anywhere, it makes me smile. And it makes me think of how proud and happy she was” his tone is so soft and sweet it almost makes you tear up after all the anxiety “What I’m trying to say is, that no one is insignificant. Everyone makes a difference, even with such little things that we ourselves aren’t even able to tell”. 
Both of you fall quiet for a moment. It’s as if your eyes are so drawn to each other and you both forget everything else around you. 
His voice lowers down to a whisper as he continues “I could list a million things you’ve done that have permanently changed my life. How a joke you told three weeks ago still makes me smile whenever I think about it. Or the way you sing your favorite songs when they play in the radio while driving you home” the affection is so thick in his voice, it’s almost hard to believe. The way he speaks makes something click inside of you, like pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place when just moments ago it all seemed a mess and meaningless. “and trust me, the meaning you have in so many people’s lives goes way beyond words. Think of the way Ella looks in the mirror every morning, feeling like a princess because her mother complimented her. Or your dad being grateful you brought in the mail on your way to your parents’, just so he doesn’t have to walk all the way to the end of the driveway when his knee is acting up again. Or a victim in a case, who you helped calm down from a panic attack”.
He lists a few more things and you feel heat rising to your cheeks. You didn’t realize that the people around you actually notice these things. You didn’t think they’d hold such importance to anyone. 
“What I’m trying to say” he adds almost shyly after having rambled on for way longer he intended to “your impact is everywhere. Just like fingerprints. Your importance can’t be wiped away clean from all the kindness you’ve shared in your life”.
It’s not often you’re left speechless. But you no longer can find words to match your gratitude. If you were anywhere but the office, you’d hug him. As you’re about to open your mouth to thank him, you hear steps coming closer to the kitchenette breaking the moment between the two of you.
“Does the line start here?” Rossi asks from beside you “For the coffee?” he clarifies as both of you give him puzzled looks. Your conversation had made both of you forget where you are and for how long. Coffee no longer was a priority, and you hadn’t even noticed it being done.
Aaron clears his throat and goes to grab a new dark blue mug from the shelf “Yeah, one moment” he says and fills his own cup before offering to fill up the one in Rossi’s hand. 
“Did the M.E. reports from the Seattle case come in yet?” Rossi asks, forcing the unit chief to turn his attention back to his duties. 
“Yes, it’s on my desk. I’ll be right there” Hotchner’s tone is back to his normal at-the-office voice and you can tell he’s forced to get his focus back on his to-do list, no matter how he wants to stay in the moment with you as long as possible. David nods and leads the way. Aaron follows his friend a few steps behind but stops once he’s by your side. 
His hand raises to your arm, landing on it softly just for a few seconds. His thumb rubs soft circles on the fabric of your sleeve and his eyes fall to find yours. There are a million things he wants to tell you, an apology for the interruption being the strongest one. He wants to tell you that his door is always open for you and he’s only ever a text or a phone call away. He wishes to tell you just how much you mean to him and to everyone else around you. 
But instead of saying a word, he smiles at you softly. As he turns to leave and continue his workday, his hand lingers on your arm for as long as he’s able to. He goes to follow Rossi to his office but you swear you can still feel his touch on your skin and it makes every last bit of your anxiety melt away.
You wish he knows just how much he’s changed your life for the better, just by being himself.
@ssahotchsbitch @mayasreadingnook @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @ssamorganhotchner @kajjaka @reidsbookmark @thenewnormalforensicator @wheelsupkels @thedancingnerdmermaid @agirlinherhead @tonystarkscumslut @itsmytimetoodream @marvel-marauders @mintphoenix @whoreslovehotch @mrslizzyolsen @louderfortheback @newlydevouthotchgirl @pandorasdreamings @anlin2058 @alexxavicry
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idrawprettyboys · 4 months ago
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I finally started watching Star Trek: The Next Generation! I've been curious about it for a long time. I happened to find a book by Brent Spiner the other day (Data's actor) that reminded me of how curious I was to meet his character! I loved the character even before watching it, mainly because I've always adored android characters. I find him super adorable, but there was something that happened in episode 3 that caught me off-guard and made me disappointed about a character arc that could've been. But I'm going to continue, because I still think he's precious, even if the writers didn't write him exactly the way I expected. If anything, I hope this discovery about him will make me see him as more... desirable?
Please watch the Youtube video where I show this painting moving under the light. The scan doesn't show the glitter very well at all. The video gives a better idea of what the painting really looks like in person.
Tools: Canson cold-pressed watercolor paper, Pentel Click 0.7 mechanical pencil, Pentel Hi-Polymer eraser, Sakura Pigma Micron 01 pen, Sakura Koi metallic watercolors, Mei Liang watercolors, Pentel Aquash brush, Sakura white GellyRoll pen, Epson 4490 scanner.
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theetherealbloom · 2 years ago
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UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 1
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Chapter One: These Questions Take Shape
Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold live in front of her or will she be able to change what was already written?
Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 6.1k
Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, PTSD, Depression, Zombies, character death, swearing, angst, fluff, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE MIGHT BE WRONG, plot holes, rusty writing, alternate universe
A/N: I write?? Kind of?? Tbh, this self-indulgent for sure! We love maladaptive daydreaming :) Anyways, English isn’t my first language so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes! Tbh I was just gonna write one chapter per episode but I got too excited :p 
Song: doomsday by Lizzy McAlpine
-> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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YOUR OBSERVABLE UNIVERSE – 2023
It’s been three years since the pandemic, COVID-19 has taken a toll on many people. Millions have died over the past few years and you were one of the lucky ones who got by, survived, and received the vaccine as soon it was available. The world slowly begins to open up and awake from its slumber during those years of uncertainty.
So what do you do now?
You work, continue with your quantum physics research and try and make sense of your life. Someday you’ll be able to be under the mercy of light to choose your fate and your need to find certainties and concrete science. For now, you enjoy the comforting sounds of characters conversing with each other.
Immediately as the show credits show, you fold your laptop close and prepare for bed. Episode 3 of the Last of Us was the most emotional so far, Bill and Frank’s story reminds you that love will transverse in every universe. With these tired eyes, you’ve seen enough for tonight. Your eyes slowly droop down and close, luring you into a deep sleep in a state of wishful thinking, hoping that you would have that kind of love in your life. But for now, the watercolor vivid dreams will suffice.
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TLOU WORLD – 2023
You groggily wake up and find yourself on the floor. Slowly as you sit up, you use one of your hands to rub away the sleep, “What the hell,” you mumble. The anxiety begins to creep in, you recognize the coloring of the walls and the type of flooring used.
You look down at yourself to check what you’re wearing, no longer in your sleep clothes but traded away for cargo pants, a shirt, socks, and black boots. What’s more concerning was the familiar voices just outside the tattered room you were in.
“There’s not gonna be anything bad in here?”
A gruff response comes, “Just you.”
“Oh, funny.”
No. God, no way. This is not happening. This isn’t possible. You must be dreaming, right? You quickly stand up, and as soft footsteps come closer, you see Ellie staring at you with complete shock, “Holy shit!” she screams.
The thundering thumps of footsteps quickly make their way into the room as you stand there in complete shock. Your eyes widen in shock as you are now face to face with the characters you’ve grown to love from last night through your laptop screen right in front of you. This feels like a very cruel joke.
Dark brown eyes, salt and pepper hair, tan skin, and lines that appear as Joel frowns at you, unimpressed and suspicious. While Tess is completely covering Ellie, she narrows her eyes at you and says, “Raise your hands.”
Slowly you follow her command and raise both your hands, not wanting to increase the tension between you and them. Then you try your best to steady the trembling voice that wants to escape from you and directly look at Joel to say, “I’m not infected.”
“Show us your arm and neck.” He replies with his thick southern accent, and you bring your hand to the collar of your shirt to show them your neck and then lift the sleeves of your jacket to prove that you are being truthful.
The tension between the four of you still hadn’t dissipated despite proving that you didn’t have Cordyceps. “You got any weapons?” Tess asks and you shake your head, “No.”
Ellie groans in frustration, “Guys, I need to pee.” And you bite back a smile, her attitude, and unintentional humor. You clear your throat and say, “Um, you two could interrogate me in the other room so she can, uh, relieve herself.”
Ellie’s two protectors give each other a knowing side glance and proceed to lower their weapons that were aimed at you. You take a deep breath and then follow Joel as he first leaves the room while Tess watches and follows you from behind, making sure you don’t try anything funny.
You stand in the center of the room, with lush green grass, and flowers,  you tilt your head up to look at the stream of daylight hitting your face. You take note of the overgrown plants and trees, mother nature taking back what’s hers. Eco-brutalists would be ecstatic about all of this, minus the fungi zombies.
Tess breaks the silence and asks, “What’s your name?” You give them your name and ask for theirs, even though you didn’t need to however, it is the polite and fair thing to do. You turn your head to look at both of them. They reluctantly tell you to give them their names as you try and manage to swallow away the fear and secretly hope this was all a dream or maybe a fucked up prank. Tess raises one eyebrow at you, “Where are you from?”
You purse your lips to a thin line and wonder how the hell you were gonna answer that question, you then settle for a, “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?” Joel gruffly asks you and you give him a light shrug in response and he scoffs.
Your shoulders sag at his reaction to your words, “I’m not trying to be difficult, I swear.  It is complicated and hard to explain, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. And to be honest, I’m trying my best to wrap my head around this and find a way to explain it without sounding completely insane.”
Joel all but frowns at you but continues to ask, “You tryin’ to get to the QZ?” And without even thinking about it you shook your head in disagreement, and immediately followed your response with suspicion growing on their faces and a frown.
Tess looks at you in disbelief and says, “So, what the hell are you doing out in the city with all the infected running around? Going for a stroll?”
Not wanting to answer the question, you pivot to looking at his fractured hand and give him a light nod, gesturing to it, “Does it hurt?”
Tess glances at his hand and pushes Joel to sit on his chair, his hands shaking as he looks at his bloody knuckles. You also choose to sit on the plush cool green grass, the smell of earth fills your nostrils, and then watch the scene play out in front of you.
“Broken.” Tess states that Joel avoids eye contact with his partner in crime, “Maybe a hairline. It’ll heal fast.”
Tess looks down at the grimy floor and folded her hands in an attempt to calm herself, then raises her head as she whispers, “She made it through the fucking night, Joel.” He shakes his head at her, “It doesn’t matter. It’s gonna happen sooner or later. All right? We’re still close to the wall. We sneak both of them back into the QZ. We find a different way to get the battery.”
“This is our best shot,” Tess says unwaveringly with her decision while Joel scoffs, you watch them both like a tennis match and are surprised by the fact they didn’t even acknowledge your presence.  
“We take her back into the QZ, someone’s gonna notice her arm. They’re gonna scan her then they’ll kill her.”
He harshly whispers back at Tess, “Well, better them than us. You need to stop talking about this kid like she’s got some kind of life in front of her.”
It felt like extreme deja vu watching Joel and Tess argue, and on queue, Ellie walks back in and throws the magazine on the floor, and slides towards Tess. The kid plops down to sit next to you on the lush grass and you look at her with a small smile.
“You hungry?” Tess asks the both of you as she rummages through her backpack to find the energy bars, “You can share some of ours.”
“Thanks. Marlene sent me with my own.” Ellie says and takes out a chicken sandwich from her bag pocket. Tess looks at you, offering some and you politely decline, the older woman tilts her head and says, “When was the last time you ate?”
“Yesterday.” You say without a thought.
“You wanna try to explain’ how you got here? Cause when we checked, you sure as hell weren’t here. Or how the fuck did you manage to survive this long with nothing?” Tess says as she chews on the bark this world now calls food. You feel your palms sweat and pulse slightly increase, you take a deep breath and say, “This is gonna sound extremely bazaar and completely impossible but try to keep an open mind because literal infected are roaming around the streets so believe anything is now within the realm of possibility. Okay?”
You got a couple of hums with curious gazes and listened as you began to speak, “I’m possibly from a different universe or world where this is all just fiction and you’re characters based on a video game-made television series. No, I have zero ideas how I got here. I went to bed and fell asleep, and next thing I know, I woke up with this painful migraine and fatigue, different clothes and you three suddenly existing.”
You paused as you took in the group gaping at you and you sigh, “From where I came from, we had a similar thing happen, a pandemic. However, it was a virus, not Cordyceps. We called it COVID-19, it could be transmitted through an infected person's mouth or nose in small liquid particles when they cough, sneeze, speak or breathe. The outbreak started in December 2019 and 6.84 million people died in the last three years during that time. We were able to make a vaccine at a rapid rate since our technology had advanced, and we were able to distribute it globally, so in the current year which we both share, which is 2023, we’re slowly trying to find our footing again as the world opens up.”
You feel your eyes glaze over, and you then shut them as you continued, “I know it sounds fucking impossible, trust me, a lot thought so too. My scientific hypothesis is that the multiverse does exist and somehow sleep or dreaming is connected to it. I really don’t know, it was all just theoretical.”
“Prove it.”
You open your eyes and look at Joel, completely surprised he spoke, “What?”
Joel’s baritone voice and defensive stare felt like electricity through your bones, “I said, prove it.”
If there’s anything you were good at, it was reading a ton of books in a short period and memorizing the important details and plot points. Visual memory paired with the love you had for these characters had you rewatching the three episodes over and over again. Quietly, you thank the younger you for being so nerdy.
You look Joel dead in the eye and turn to the kid beside you quietly looking at you while eating her sandwich, “Your name is Ellie, you got bitten by an infected while you snuck into the mall and then Marlene found you soon afterward. Those two,” you point your thumb in their direction, “need to get you to the state house in exchange for a battery so they can go find Tommy who has been missing for almost a month.”
“Holy shit. She knows my name.” Ellie said with her mouth full of her food.
You turn back to look at Joel and Tess, and then glance at his broken wristwatch, “And, um, Joel, I know how your watch broke, I’m so– .”
“Stop.” Joel lowly says, his stare as cold as ice and distrusting of you. You avert your gaze, and a blanket of silence covers the room. Shakily Joel eats his bark of food and Tess stares at you and Ellie as she chews and swallows, “Is that chicken?”
“Yup. Marlene said they get it from smugglers.” Ellie then thoughtfully tilts her head, “Guess not you guys.”
That does it for Tess and stands up to walk towards you and the kid, “Hey, hey!” Joel says as he stands up after her but Tess holds her hand out to stop him and to signal it’s fine, “Why are you so important to Marlene? And don’t lie to me, or we’ll take you back.”
“Like she said,” the kid gestures to you, “If you take me back, you don’t get your battery.” Tess scoffs, “You heard that?” and Ellie shrugs at her, the older woman mock laughs, “Then you must’ve heard he wants to shoot you.”
Ellie looks toward Joel and he doesn’t deny it, he simply stares back at her.
“If you do that, it would be the dumbest shit you’ll ever do.” You mumble while frowning, Tess turns to you and harshly says, “Zip it, this doesn’t concern you.” And you take what she said in stride and don’t push it any further.
She then crouches down to talk to Ellie, “I’m gonna talk to you like you’re an adult. Okay?” She then takes Ellie’s silence as consent to continue, “Joel and I aren’t good people. We’re doing this for us because apparently, you’re worth something. But we don’t know what you’re worth if we don’t know what we have. So answer my question.”
Ellie rolls her eyes, rubs her face, and mumbles to herself, “She told me not to tell anybody and now I’m telling the first people that I…” She lets out a sigh and reluctantly speaks, “There’s a Firefly base camp somewhere out west with doctors. They’re working on a cure.”
Joel immediately groans in frustration, “I’ve heard this before.” Ellie continues, “And whatever happened to me,” and at the same time she and Joel say, “is the key to finding the vaccine.”
He sighs in exasperation, “That’s what this is? We’ve heard this a million times. Vaccines, miracle cures. None of it works. Ever.”
Ellie stands up, “Fuck you, man. I didn’t ask for this.”
“You and me both.” The grouch turns to his partner and says, “This isn’t gonna end well, Tess. We need to go back.”
You then remember after all those essays and news articles about your pandemic, the time when everything felt so hopeless and scary. You look at Joel and you see a reflection of your own, his fear and panic, “It’s possible.”
They both turn to you and you continue, “Theoretically, it’s possible to create a fungi vaccine, however, I’m not even sure you have the technology to produce it. And it would take finding out what Ellie truly is. Either Ellie’s immune system mutated and created antibodies to fight against the Cordyceps or something else… But either way, a vaccine or maybe a cure could be possible now because of her.”
Tess stands up, as do you, and looks at Ellie for a moment, then to Joel to say, “Let’s just finish it. It doesn’t matter if she is what the Fireflies or what an alien says.”
“I’m human.” You grumble and Tess ignores you, “If they believe that she is then we get what we want.”
Joel gives a glare at Ellie and then shifts his gaze to you, he sighs and shakes his head, “If she so much as twitches.”
Ellie proceeds to make gurgling noises and movements to pretend as if she’s turning into an infected. Tess turns to look at her and scolds in a motherly fashion, “Don’t.” You try and hold in your laugh and the young girl clears her throat, scratches the back of her neck, and mumbles, “Yeah… okay.”
Tess then turns to Joel, “Okay?”
Defeated, Joel swings his arms open and whispers, “Okay.”
The foreshadowing of the fact it will not be okay in the next few moments had you feeling nauseous. The churning fear begins to bubble inside of you, Tess is going to die, albeit a noble and honorable death, but it still would hurt Joel, and Ellie as she slowly grows more fond of the older woman. Then, it hit you, is it possible to change what already was written? Could you save them all? Well, you’re already here, might as well try.
The three of them begin to pack their belongings as you awkwardly stand there with your hands in your pockets and watch as they prepare for the journey to the State House. The sound of Joel picking up his gun catches Ellie’s interest, “Can I have a gun?”
“Absolutely not.”
“No.”
“Okay. Fine. Jesus. I’ll have to throw a fucking sandwich at them.” Ellie then shoves the leftover sandwich into her bag and Joel goes to the giant bookshelf, which is blocking the door, to the side, then peaks out of the door to check if it’s safe. You hear the sound of birds chirping and feel the warmth of the light flood in the abandoned building.
“It’s clear.”
Following Ellie from behind, you begin walking slowly toward the light and into the apocalyptic city. Your eyes take in the sight of tilted, destroyed, buildings, overgrown plants, trees, abandoned cars, and trucks. A hauntingly beautiful sight if you were being honest.
Ellie gasps in wonder as she takes it all in, “Woah.” Tess looks over at her and says, “Yeah, looks different in the daylight, huh?” Joel quickly scans the area, “We should get moving.” Tess begins to take the lead, followed by Ellie then you, while Joel trails from behind.
“It’s like a fucked up moon.” Ellie moves towards a crater and peers over it, “Is this where they bombed?”
“Yeah, they hit most of the big cities like this. They had to slow the spread somehow.” Tess says and Joel continues to walk past it, ignoring the crater and any kind of conversation. “Worked here, but it didn’t in most places.”
Unconsciously, you begin humming to the tune of a Linda Ronstadt song. The last song you ever heard before sleeping. Continuing up to a ruined building, with debris blocking your path, “So the State House is across there. It’s about a ten-minute walk if you could go straight.”
Ellie looks at both of them and you wonder how the fuck you were gonna defeat the clickers later on with no weapon, “So…”
“Long way or short way?” Joel asks Tess, she holds the straps of her backpack and the wind blows through her hair, “I mean, it’s a long way or the we’re-fucking-dead way.”
“Well, I vote a long way just based on that limited information,” Ellie says dryly, and Joel stares at her, a puzzled expression on his face, then his eyes lands on you, waiting for your input.
You frown at him, “No, don’t look at me like that. I’m not giving you any spoilers.” Joel clenches his jaw and turns to Tess, “We have to check it from the hotel first.” She begins to walk away, “Okay.”
You walk along the highway in somewhat comfortable silence, you carefully look to the ground and see a giraffe plushie, the symbolism doesn’t escape you, knowing all too well what it meant. Moss and different kinds of plants grow over the cracks of the road, you spot branches atop abandoned cars and dust covers the windows of each door.
Tess and Ellie begin conversing in front of the group, while you and Joel follow from a distance. You look at Joel and say, “I’m sorry if I overstepped a while ago. I couldn’t prove it unless I told you something only you knew.”
He looks at you in an emotion you can’t quite understand, but still responds in his grumpy demeanor, “Just don’t bring it up again.” You quickly nod, “Mhm, noted.”
It was quiet for a bit until, to your surprise, he asks you, “What did you do for work?” The smile was so difficult to hold back, you chuckle and raise your eyebrows, “I’m… well, was a Quantum physicist. You were a carpenter right?”
“It kinda’ freaks me out how you know that off the top of your head.” His Texan accent heavy as he spoke, you knew that it would take time to build his trust. His reserved and security-oriented nature would prove to be a challenge, but something you wholeheartedly would take on, “I’ll try not to do it as much, I’m sorry.”
“You apologize too much.”
“It’s a habit I’m trying to break, to be honest.” You chuckle nervously, putting your hands in the pockets of your cargo pants, and continue to walk, watching and hearing bits of conversation from Tess and Ellie.
“I thought you were some sort of’ performer, a singer maybe, with all that hummin’ you were doin’ awhile ago.”
That catches you off guard and you feel the confusion form on your face and you begin to feel your face feel warm, “What?” Joel continues, “You were hummin’ to Linda Ronstadt, right? Haven’t heard that song in a while.” You stared at him in complete disbelief, “You heard me humming?”
As he was about to reply, you and him managed to catch up to Ellie and Tess to overhear their conversation, “How old are you?” Ellie replies, “Fourteen.” Tess hums and smirks at the kid, “Wow. Well, I mean you got some balls on you, sister.”
“Thanks,” Ellies says and follows after Tess, climbing over the flipped rusted car. You follow their movements and Joel does too.
Tess curiously looks over her shoulder at Ellie and continues her walk forward, “Nobody is gonna come after you, right? Like Mom, Dad, boyfriend?”
“I’m an orphan, and, uh, no.” Ellie takes a look around her surroundings and lets her hand brush on the tall grass growing from the cracks of the pavement, “Everyone said the open city was crazy. Like, swarms of infected running around everywhere.”
Joel humors her, “Not exactly like that.” Tess smiles, “You know people like to tell stories.”
“So there aren’t super-infected that explode fungus spores on you?” Ellie curiously asks with a somewhat happy tone, as if all of this doesn’t scare her. Fearless is what you conclude, a trait that could be good when at its best but dangerous and reckless at its worse. “Shit, I hope not,” Tess says.
“Or ones with split-open heads that see in the dark like bats?” Ellie asks and that causes a shift in Tess, Joel, and your demeanor. Fucking clickers. And on queue, you hear the screeching of the devil’s spawn in the distance. The whole group stills and Ellie shakily asks, “What was that?”
Joel doesn’t reply, instead, he just says, “Let’s keep movin’.”
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Joel pushes the doors of the hotel open, loudly shrieking as he does, and all three of you are greeted with the sight of the flooded hotel. It was almost swamp-like due to the green water, lily pads floating, and the ducks and frogs swimming.
Ellie takes a spin and looks at the view with a childlike wonder you wish you still had, “You’ve got to be kidding me! You ever stay in a place like this?” “Uh, no, a little out of our league.” Tess says and Joel looks at Ellie and asks, “How do you even know what this is?” Being the smartass that she throws him a look and says, “Have you heard of books?”
You chuckle as Joel shakes his head and walks down into the murky water, “Wait we’re going in there?” Ellie asks, and Tess nods, “Yeah, we gotta get to the stairwell on the other side.” The kid takes a step back, “Well, I don’t… I don’t know how to swim.” Joel lifts an eyebrow, “Seriously?”
“Do you think we have pools in the QZ?” Ellie says with narrowed eyes. “No, smart-ass. I mean…”, Joel does a little jump into the water, it does a small splash when he does. “I don’t know how I was supposed to know that,” Ellie says as she walks down the steps and into the water, you follow behind her and Tess.
You four wade through the green murky water, “This is so gross.” Ellie says with a huge smile on her face and you can’t help but laugh, “This is disgusting.” The fourteen-year-old spots the concierge desk and makes her way over, “Oh, check it out!”
You place both of your hands on your hips and  watch her mess with the call bell, “Ding, ding.” She begins to do her form of roleplay for her entertainment and to cure her boredom, “Yes sir. I would like your finest suite, please.”
“Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to take your luggage?”, she proceeds to answer her own question and pushes the hotel bell cart through the water, “Yes, ma’am. Right away ma’am…”
“You’re a weird kid.” Joel states, Ellie turns her head to look at him, “You’re a weird kid.” Something falls over, a sloshing sound indicating that it had fallen in front of Ellie causing her to jump back and bang the piano behind her and yelp, “Oh, fuck!”
You and Joel are quick to come to her side to see what it was. A skeleton lay there unmoving and rotten, your eyes raise to look at Ellie panting and clutching onto the hotel bell cart, “Oh, my god.” Joel kicks the skull and the kid mumbles, “Uh, sorry.”
Joel offers his hand to help Ellie back up and the sound of the honky-tonk piano creates sharp notes as she stands, Joel pulls back his hand once Ellie can manage on her own and begins to walk away.
You look to Joel, “How’s the hand?” He looks down at it as it shakes again, “It’ll heal.” Your face forms a frown and you shake your head, “That doesn’t answer my question.” Joel doesn’t respond and decides to continue and you simply follow.
“You okay?” Tess asks Ellie, and the young girl wades through the water like nothing happened, “Yep. Fucking Fabulous.”
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After ten flights of stairs you finally made it to the top floor, Joel goes through the doorway first, while Tess takes a moment to catch her breath, “Fuck. Holy shit.” 
You’re a little breathless, but not as much as Tess since you were a bit younger than her. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Ellie says teasingly and Tess shoots her a look, “You try climbing ten fuckin’ floors with our knees. See how you feel.”
You turn right to a hallway, to see a giant obstruction made out of the rubble, “Well, when the fuck did that happen?” Tess tries to push the door to her right, only to be blocked. You try to check the door to the left to find the same outcome, you sigh “No.”
“All right, well, I mean, maybe I could climb up there. Work my way around and open it from the inside?” Ellie peers around the rocks, “Uh, no. Well, I’m the smallest, so it’d be easier for me to get through.” Tess hums, “But you die and we get nothing. You stay.”
“I could help.” You say a little meek, Tess is a little intimidating and you feel so out of place like you’re intruding. Technically, you aren’t supposed to be in this mess. She takes a good look at you and says, “Yeah, no.”
You deflate a little and avoid trying to argue, Tess turns to Joel and asks for help, “Can you give me a hand?” Joel pulls back Ellie with the strap of her backpack and she sighs, then Joel tugs your jacket sleeve to do the same. Your face warms a little bit, it’s the first time he’s ever touched you.
Joel boosts up Tess over the pile of rubble and she climbs over, “You good up there?” Tess analyzes the mess she needs to clean up and replies, “Yeah. It’s a bit of a mess, so I’m gonna need a few minutes.”
Joel turns around to face you and Ellie, he adjusts his gun and lets his back slide against the wall to sit down across from both of you. Ellie has her arms resting on her knees while you decide to sit comfortably cross-legged.
Ellie takes out her knife and decides to play with it, tossing it in her hands as if it were just a pen and not something that could easily cut her if she commits a mistake. You watch everything play out just like it did in the episode—character development.
“Nice knife,” Joel says as his eyes follow the movement of Ellie’s tossing. She only glances at him with acknowledgment. “Where’d you learn to do that?” he asks, you gotta hand it to him for trying to make an effort.
She replies with a monotone voice, “The circus.” 
Joel looks away exasperated and completely done with her bullshit. You try and hide your smile, but the slight crease in your eyes gives away your amusement. Ellie folds her knife, and as Joel sighs, the kid decides to give an olive branch, “Where are you from?”
“Texas.” He replies, and Ellie continues, “What about Tess?”
“Detroit. It’s in Michigan.”
If there’s anything she hated most, was the fact people underestimate her intelligence, she rolls her eyes and Ellie’s reply comes out harsh, “I go to school. I know where Detroit is.”
Her response causes a wave of silence between the three of you. Your eyes drift from Joel to Ellie, she then decides it’s your turn to be interrogated, “Are you from the future?”
Your mouth twists a little to the right before deciding on a good enough answer, “Sort of? Your technology stopped advancing in 2003, so, I guess I am?” This piques her interest, “So, what’s it like over there?”
You pick the dirt off the underside of your fingernails, a little nervous, or if not nervous then cautious, as you respond, “Almost the same. Our technology is way different though.”
“Different how?” She asks.
You give her a soft smile and respond, “Well, for starters, we have touch screens for phones, laptops, tablets, you name it, it probably has a touch screen.”
“No way,” Ellie says with her eyes full of amazement and wonder, “What else?”
You give a hum as you teasingly tell her, “I don’t know… it might blow your tiny little mind.” She blows a raspberry in your face and you stick your tongue out in retaliation.
“Come on! Wait, you said we were just characters in some kind of story?” She says dramatically and tugs the sleeve of your jacket and continues, “What did you mean by that?”
Your eyes shift to look at Joel, who has his full attention on you; simply waiting. You blink owlishly at him, once, then twice before settling on a response, “Yeah, um, it recently aired.”
“So, do you know the future? Like our future? What’s about to happen? Will we be able to make a cure or a vaccine?” You couldn’t keep up with her rapid questions, and your mouth slightly parts open. Should you tell them? 
Can you change the fact Tess is practically minutes away from death? That Joel is about to make the worst mistake of his life? That Bill and Frank are… that they…
Luckily, you didn’t need to answer Ellie, Joel who senses your unease, steps in for you, “Ellie, stop askin’ her about her life, she doesn’t wanna give anythin’ up.” You look at him apologetically and shut your eyes for a while. This migraine keeps bothering you, a sharp, heavy, thump in the side of your brain hasn’t gone away. You tell yourself that it eventually will. Maybe.
Ellie focuses her attention back to Joel, “So you two like a…”
“Pass.” He says.
Ellie continues, “How’d you end up in Boston?”
“Pass. No more questions about me.” Ellie rolls her eyes at him and racks her brain for a different question, “How long do infected live?” Joel mocks Ellie in reply, “Oh, I thought you went to school.”
“It’s a really shitty one.” She snarkily replies. You smile at their banter with your eyes closed, enjoying the conversation that they have going on. Joel thinks for a moment before answering her, “Well, some last about a month or two. But there’s other’s been walkin’ about 20 years.”
Ellie fidgets with her knife again, “You ever kill one?”
You hear the slight sorrow in his voice, “Yeah, I’ve killed lots of them.” Ellie asks the most human question as she looks at the older man, “Was it hard? Like, knowing they were people once?”
You open your eyes to watch his gaze look away from the kid, memories come back to him, what he’s done and will continue to do, and he nods, “Sometimes.”
“What about that guy last night?” She asks, and you frown while he gives Ellie a stern look. You knew Ellie liked the fact Joel hurt the FEDRA guard to protect her. She loved it. Luckily Joel doesn’t have to respond, you could hear the sound of something approaching you. The loyalist immediately stands up, and you and Ellie get up to stand next to Joel, he puts his finger to the trigger of his gun, ready to protect you both from whatever is out there.
“You can put the gun down, Joel,” Tess calls out from a distance, and a tingle of jealousy moves through your bones like electricity. She knew him so well, to the point where she knew what he was going to do before doing it. They both loved each other without admitting it, and it hurts you. They never stood a chance. 
You hear the quiet rumble of Tess pushing away the debris to open the door, the loud creak of metal reveals her face, and it’s full of worry. Joel reads her like a book, “What now?” Then Tess nods her head, signaling to follow her.
As you make your way upstairs, you take notice of the abandoned wine glass and dishes, the dust that coats every inch of the hotel, and the fallen chairs. Tess pulls back a plastic curtain for you and Ellie to walk through, only to be greeted by the view of hundreds of infected down below.
“There’s so many,” Ellie comments in disbelief, you can hear the cries and wailing of each Runner as they roll and crawl. The young girl leans a little forward to get a better view. Tess nods, “The last time we were here they were still deep inside the buildings. Then I guess enough people came through looking for the QZ they went inside seeking shelter, and that’s how they get more and more of the city bit by city year after year.”
As the clouds pass by, the sun shines through a little, overwhelming light shines over the infected, they screech and roll away, like a domino effect. “They’re connected,” Ellie says, and Tess nods in confirmation, “More than you know. The fungus also grows underground. Long fibers like wires, some of them stretching over a mile.”
If you weren’t so focused on listening to Tess explain the cordyceps, you would have felt Joel staring at you the whole time, observing how you were taking all of the information being shared. You were surprisingly calm, despite the fact zombies are now real and you could die. And possibly a little worried like you were anticipating something bad was going to happen.
Tess continues, “Now you step on a patch of cordyceps in one place and you can wake a dozen infected from somewhere else. Now they know where you are, now they come. You’re not immune from being ripped apart. You understand? It’s important. I’m trying to keep you alive.”
Ellie nods and you do too, even if the question wasn’t directed at you. “So we’re not going that way.” She states, and Tess agrees, “No.”
“What do we do then? Short way?” Ellie asks and Joel looks at Tess, and speaks the dreaded words you’ve heard before, “Museum.”
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A/N: Trust me, I’m working double time on the next one if this is received well :,) Thank you for reading! See ya in the next chapter <3
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Next Chapter ->
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amorpaints · 1 month ago
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Love at First Paint: A Beginner's Guide to Painting
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"Almond Blossom" by Vincent van Gogh (1853 - 1890), Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, February 1890
Have you ever dreamed of being like Picasso or Vincent Van Gogh? If you do, you are looking at the wrong blog because I am far from them. But hey there! I'm Eden Amor, a freshman student and a self-taught artist who just loves to paint.
Art has been my passion since I was a kid, and as I grew older, I fell even more in love with it and started trying out different mediums and styles. But there's just something about painting that really excites me! I started with graphite, then moved on to colored pencils, and even dabbled in charcoal (although I never got around to using those charcoal pencils I ordered online). Finally, I found my true love in watercolors, and I've been obsessed with working with wet mediums ever since!
If you are a beginner in painting (like me, have been a skill of a beginner for years), you can enjoy my blog and get some tips that I learned from my starting journey. But if you are just interested in painting or in art generally, you can still read this blog.
Just a disclaimer: I am no expert and just a self-taught artist. Some things might work for me and not for you, and vice versa, so take this blog with a grain of salt.
LEARN ABOUT PAINTING
Since I am a self-taught artist myself, I never applied for workshops in drawing or painting. But most of my art knowledge is from YouTube tutorials, shorts, and IG reels (I have no TikTok, I don’t know why). I suggest learning about the basics before painting whatever you want because you’ll get disappointed after the result or wondering why everything is not working the way you wanted. 
But before anything else, find the medium that you want. Mediums like acrylic, oil, gouache, and watercolor. There might be more but these four are some of the common wet mediums. One thing to address about these mediums is that they all have different properties and the techniques you’ll approach, the materials you’ll use, and the finish or outcome of the painting will depend on the medium. 
MEDIUMS
Watercolor
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My recommendation for anyone wanting to start painting with no experience is to use watercolors. The only things you need are watercolor paint and water. Unlike acrylic paint, which, although water-based, can get pretty messy and dries quickly, giving you little time to blend and touch up unless you use an acrylic medium called Retarder, which is a medium that you mix with the paint to slow its drying time, but will cost you more. So, as simple as watercolor can be, it's a great starting point for a beginner in painting. 
However, watercolor painting can be tricky when it comes to water manipulation. The amount of water your brush holds affects in creating an even layer of paint. The drying time takes hours, especially if you are working in layers, if you paint the still-damp surface too early, you will ruin everything and you cannot cover it up since watercolor is transparent. That is why watercolor painting is done light-to-dark because dark colors cannot be covered by light colors. So planning ahead of time is suggested and should not paint with watercolor impulsively.
Acrylic
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If you want to take the next level or just explore other mediums, acrylic painting is great for high coverage and textures. What watercolor doesn’t have but acrylic has is the ability to cover mistakes. In acrylic painting, you can paint on top of a painting, which is great especially if you change your mind or decide to start all over again, as long you coat more than one layer of white paint then you have a blank canvas again.
However acrylic paint, as said earlier, dries quickly which can be a disadvantage if you are a slow painter (like me) and especially if you are making a seamless gradient, which is very difficult to achieve and not as easy as you think. Since acrylic is water-based, cleaning is very easy with just water as long as the paint is still wet. Hardened paints can be peeled off easily but only on smooth surfaces, but if you got it on something like fabric, it will be forever on it.
Gouache
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I describe gouache (pronounced as ‘goo-aash’) as a combination of watercolor and acrylic. Because like watercolor, gouache is water-activated paint, which means that dried paints can be revived and used the paint again when wet. And just like acrylic, gouache has high coverage and a thick consistency which is great for texture. But unlike acrylic, which has a glossy finish, the gouache creates a matte finish once the paint is dry and it also dries fast giving you no more time for creating flawless gradients.
I use gouache for mini projects, or creating art trends I saw online, but I don’t recommend it for painting a big major project since it can be smudge once wet, and as of now, I don’t know if there’s an appropriate varnish for gouache so if you have any idea please let me know in the comment section.
Oil
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The most expensive of the four mentioned paint mediums is oil paint. However, oil paint creates the most realistic paintings. Despite its high cost, what makes me love oil paint is how smoothly the paintbrush glides, like butter. Blending oil paint is very easy, and you can create flawless gradients between colors. Oil paint has a very slow drying time. For small projects, such as those the size of half a sheet of bond paper, it can take days to weeks to fully dry and be ready for varnish. This slow drying time can be both an advantage and a disadvantage, depending on the complexity of your painting. It allows you to fix mistakes or make adjustments even the next day. Additionally, a small amount of oil paint goes a long way.
Oil painting can be hazardous because it involves flammable oil-based paints, as well as mediums like thinner and linseed oil. While water is used to dilute watercolor, gouache, and acrylic paints, oil paint requires the use of thinner. It's important to avoid washing oil paintbrushes with water, as it can damage the brushes and won't effectively remove the paint. Additionally, it's crucial to store oil paints, thinner, and linseed oil away from sources of heat and fire.
Since I am only new to oil painting, I cannot give much in-depth information about it and if you do please I beg for some advice and tips in oil painting.
Materials in Painting
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Painting can be an expensive hobby given that the materials used (especially the branded ones) are not really as cheap as a pencil and a piece of paper. But aside from being a painter, I am also a cheapskate. 
I will never buy an art supply that is as expensive as my kidney, UNLESS if it is worth it or I can make money out of it. I don’t really have all the money to buy all the art supplies I want, I am still dependent on my parents and have no job yet (currently at college, 18, and an irresponsible young adult). 
That is why I chose to buy art supplies online instead from the art stores near my place. And I think as a beginner, expensive materials are unnecessary because for me an artist should be able to make a masterpiece with his/her skill and not the tools. But that doesn’t mean the quality of materials will not make a difference. So if you are the same as me, you can use my tips.
Paint
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The paints I use are not of great quality, but they are good enough. I honestly thought that some of the paints I bought were much better than the pricier ones. 
In watercolor, there are two common types: in the tubes and in the pans. The tubed paints have a consistency of acrylic, unlike the ones in the pans, which are hardened. What I have is the Superior Watercolor in pans set. I bought them online for less than $10, and it is a set of 18 colors with a brush pen and sponge included. The quality is great, it is not chalky, and it doesn’t smudge once dried. I spent my money wisely, and I do not regret buying it even though $10 is already a lot to me.
When it comes to acrylic and oil paint, I suggest buying the primary colors (ultramarine blue, crimson red, cadmium yellow), titanium white, black, and magenta only. I highly suggest buying a large amount of white because you’ll need it most of the time. Buying a set is very costly, but with these 6 colors, you can create any color, save money, and at the same time improve color-matching skills, which is an essential skill as a painter. If you wonder why I added magenta, it is because the combination of red and white is not bright enough to be pink or it is just different from the color magenta, and I think having magenta in the collection is a good addition. I used the Mont Marte brand in acrylic and Marie’s for oil paint.
Paintbrush
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There are different shapes of brushes: flat, round, filbert, and detail are the commonly used shapes, and it depends on the medium you are using. For watercolor, a round brush is recommended, and a flat brush is recommended for thick paints like acrylic and oil paint. A filbert brush is also a flat brush, but the trim is round, and it is good for painting clouds. A detailed brush is used for small details like painting dots and thin lines or for small paintings. There are more shapes of brushes out there, but having a variety of brushes can be overwhelming. Get only the brushes you need and have them in sizes small, medium, and large. The size of the brush will depend on how small or big your painting is. Using the appropriate shape and size of the brush will lessen your expenses and you’ll learn to depend more on your skills than the tools.
There are cheap but not too cheap brushes available online. They are not branded, but the quality is good enough (like the ones I use), and the bristles don’t come off easily.
Paper
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We can paint on anything, but nothing beats paper. However, the paper used in painting is not just an ordinary paper. The thickness of the paper used in painting, particularly watercolor paper, is important so that the paint would not easily destroy it.
Watercolor paper is usually combined with cotton, making it more durable than regular paper or cardstock. The percentage of cotton in the paper varies as the price varies. It is recommended to use 200 gsm paper, which is what I have because it is affordable and good enough to hold a few layers of paint.
However, I highly recommend using 300 gsm paper because the 200 gsm papers I use still curl up or bend and get wavy, which is a hassle when painting. The higher quality, 300gsm paper or paper containing 100% cotton is easier to work with, as I have observed online, even without taping the paper down, it doesn’t curl up. But of course, high-quality paper costs more, so 200 gsm paper is good enough.
If you are wondering why I called the paper used in painting "watercolor paper," it's because you can also use watercolor paper for acrylic, gouache, and oil painting.
There are two types of watercolor paper:
Cold Press - Cold-pressed watercolor paper has a rough texture, which is great for watercolor painting because it gives more depth to the flat painting (water is water, they can't have shapes and textures like acrylic).
Hot Press - The hot-pressed one is recommended for thick paints because it has a fine, smooth surface, which is great for blending smoothly.
Aside from paper, you can also use canvas paper, stretched canvas, or a canvas panel for thick paints. However, since you are only starting in painting, paper is recommended for practice and is much cheaper than the canvas mentioned above.
OTHERS
Masking Tape
Why masking tape? It is used for tapping down the edges of the watercolor paper so it stays put and flat on the surface which makes painting much easier, and also it creates a clean border. You may see other artists use washi tape because they are less sticky and won't damage the paper once it is peeled off, but I think using washi tape costs more, instead, stick first the ordinary masking tape onto your clothes until it becomes less sticky, and then you are good to go.
Mixing Palette
Usually in watercolor paint sets, the lid of the container serves as the palette. However, when using thick paints like acrylic or oil, a better alternative to a traditional paint palette is a picture frame. Mixing paint on a glass surface is convenient for two reasons: (a) it is smooth and does not absorb the paint, and (b) it is easy to clean. Dried acrylic or oil paint can be easily peeled off the glass or scraped with a blade or glass scraper, leaving a fresh and clean surface for mixing. Additionally, the wood or plastic frame around the glass provides protection against breakage and sharp edges.
Towel/Tissue
A used towel or tissue is not only used for cleaning; it is also mainly used for soaking up the excess water on a brush or for wiping off the excess paint. It is very handy, so you should always have it by your side while painting.
Jar
A brush washer is a must-have for painting. This is where you wash off the paint with water from the brush. You can use an old cup or jar as a brush washer instead of buying the fancy ones which is unnecessary. I prefer using a jar because it is heavier than a regular plastic cup, which prevents it from tumbling or spilling. 
Here's a tip I learned from YouTube: use two brush washers. When you wash your brush once in a single container, the water gets muddy. This can make your fresh paint muddy when you switch colors. To prevent this, wash your brush twice: once in the first container and then again in the second container. This ensures that the water picked up by your brush is clean and not muddy.
ART STYLE
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Early in my painting journey, I started practicing by painting scenic landscapes because they seemed easy to me. Of course, I overestimated myself. So I continued practicing more. Painting nature has grown on me, and I realized that my genre is landscape painting. The good thing about it is there is less structure unlike a portrait of a person, and shapes are organic so I will have no problem with imperfections. 
However, I still don’t have the ability to create my own work. I still have to watch tutorials online to have a guide. Most of my artworks were tutored by the artists I follow. Once I start painting with just a reference from Pinterest, I tend to get lost and suddenly don’t know what to do. I end up not continuing the work, which is a waste of time, energy, and material.
Lately, I returned to working with watercolor, but instead of nature, I used a reference photo of a person as a subject. Sketching the face first is my least favorite part, because if I mess up sketching the face, the whole painting is also a mess. Most of my subjects are K-pop idols, especially BTS, because I am also an ARMY! Working with faces is difficult but once you succeed, it is all worth it. 
Social media has highly influenced my art style. The fact that I get envious whenever I see new art trends gives me a push and inspires me to continue doing my art and explore more.
Check Out These Artists I Follow
Correa Art
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@CorreaArt
Instagram: instagram.com/correaart_
Jess Chung
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@JessChungArt
Instagram: instagram.com/jesschungart
Emily Mackey Art
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@EmilyMackeyArt
Instagram: instagram.com/emilymackeyar
Genelyn Sandaga
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@GenelynSandaga
Instagram: instagram.com/genelyn_sandaga
Socials
If you want to know more about my art, you can visit and support my two Instagram accounts:
@ChiliCheeseLover
@paintwith_amore
💜💜💜
If you have feedback to share, please do! I am eager to hear your thoughts. If not, kindly give this blog a heart; it is greatly appreciated!
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bloody-cupcakes · 6 months ago
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Hello, can I request something with JD with a reader who is visibly too crazy? As well as being too noticeable hahaha. Thank you so much
I made the reader to be the "yandere" one of the two but just to be clear this in no way means that I made JD healthy and/or well adjusted lmao, it's just that the reader is more unhinged than he is
Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, the reader is visibly crazier than JD and not very good at hiding it, mentions of shooting someone (with blanks), mentions of threatening someone with a switchblade, swearing, light stalking, allusions to violence/murder
There was talk of the new boy who'd shot two of the biggest assholes at school in the middle of the lunch room without so much as flinching. They were blanks that he used, but still.
Because of this, a lot of people thought he was crazy, but when you looked at him all you could think about was the gorgeous depths of his watercolor eyes. You had to have him, you decided, no matter what anybody else said.
You tried to follow him around so you could see what his deal was, but you weren't very good at being subtle. Not to mention how you stuck out like a sore thumb, owing it to not having a lot of friends. You were certain it was through no fault of your own and that most people just couldn't handle your eccentric nature.
Really it was because you were bat shit crazy, to put it lightly. No one could seem to forget the one time you pulled a switchblade on Heather Duke in study hall because she kept chewing her gum too loud. I mean, you make one mistake and that's all anyone remembers you for. Honestly, the nerve of some people.
So yeah, JD definitely noticed you. Maybe not the same way you noticed him (new kids were usually only on display for a couple of weeks before falling under the radar, so your fixation on him was a lot more abnormal than most) but it was still something.
He seemed to genuinely be interested in you, unlike your fellow students who always seemed to have you in the back of their minds only out of wariness over what kind of stunt you might pull next. Maybe it was because of your crazy, over-the-top nature that he became so interested in you, but it wasn't in the same way you were interested in him.
See, he could go for a few hours without seeing you, but you? No, you had to know where he was at all times. Even if you two weren't really a couple, you thought of yourselves as one. JD would probably agree with that sentiment, he just thought it was funny to see how worked up you would get whenever he referred to you as just a friend.
Of course he was aware that you were always following him around, not wanting him to be out of your sight for even a second. He thought your commitment was cute, even if your skills in the art of subtlety needed some work.
Out of the two for you, he was much better at appearing "normal" and hiding whatever sort of dark tendencies he had beneath the surface; you couldn't do that. He realized that much when you showed up to his house in the middle of the night (in the pouring rain, I might add) covered in blood.
Before he could ask what happened, you threw something down at his feet and announced, "this is for you". It was the spiral bound notebook belonging to some random kid who's homework he asked to copy the day before. He raised an eyebrow as he picked it up, noticing how the front cover had some blood spatter on it.
"Now you won't need to ask to copy their notes anymore." You seemed so proud of yourself, happy even, a stark contrast to your grouchy attitude from earlier that day. He knew you were a little upset with him for giving someone else attention other than you, he just didn't know you'd go so far as to move that person from the equation entirely.
Still, he couldn't find it in himself to be mad. In all honesty, he'd talked to (and even flirted with) them on purpose just to see how far you would go for him, to figure out where your loyalty would lie. He was a bit worried that you only seemed obsessive on the surface and were actually normal underneath it all, so this was a pleasant surprise.
The grin on your face caused him to let out a slight chuckle, tossing the notebook to the side as he approached you. "You're amazing, did you know that?" He took note of the way you beamed with pride and joy, still looking as cute as ever even with someone else's blood all over you. You were a keeper for sure.
As he leaned in to give you a kiss, he smirked at the desperate and eager manner in which you kissed him back, the blood of your victim getting on his face and clothes when you pulled him closer to you. Nothing about this situation seemed at all out of the ordinary to either one of you, despite the somewhat morbid circumstances.
JD had finally found someone who seemed to be just as devoted to him as he was them, which begged the one question he never once thought he'd ever get to ask himself: is this what love felt like?
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fifirellart · 23 days ago
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The Making of “The Invisible Museum (Is Open)”
Hi and welcome to my blog! ^-^
I thought it would be fun to write about the process of my previous illustration, "The Invisible Museum (Is Open)", so here is some commentary on the matter 🙆🏻‍♀️
As I mentioned in my original post, this project has an important meaning attached to it for me, so that’s why I wanted to be as meticulous as possible with its process. I decided to take the James Gurney approach and make a little scale model of my project, so I could have a clearer idea of how the lighting should look like.
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I even made a little simulation of the dust’s movement, using baby powder and an empty pen tube. The simulation didn't turn out exactly as I expected, but it was a nice reference to have on hand regardless 🌫️ 
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To be honest, I maybe could have figured the lighting out without doing all this preparatory exploration, but the planning process is one of the most entertaining and rewarding parts for me, so that’s why I did it this way 🌸 
This illustration was made with watercolours, Indian ink and colour pencils on paper. My regular process is the following: after outlining the base drawing, I usually start covering as much as I can with light watercolor washes, working in layers until I reach the opacity and saturation I had in mind or the one the material allows me to achieve. And later, once everything is dry, I finish the rendering with colour pencils. 
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Regarding the black background, I wanted it to be solid and as black as possible, that’s why I chose to use Indian Ink to achieve this look. One thing I have noticed, though, is that even if Indian ink is quite dark, it’s also quite reflective once scanned. And to be honest, it’s quite annoying to fix this detail on Photoshop, so maybe I will venture into trying black acrylic paint next time I need to make a solid black background. 
I think the most difficult part for me was giving the dust that magical appearance. Once the background was dry, I painted this kind of clouds with very translucent washes of white gouache so they would serve as a base for the colour pencil rendering. This section wasn’t looking very promising at this point but I knew I just had to trust the process, despite it being the first time I was trying to achieve this specific texture. 
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Then it was time to work with color pencil over the whole piece and I feel like this is the time when things started to look like I kind of initially planned. I have heard many times that the current quality of Prismacolor colour pencils isn’t as good as it used to be some years ago, but since I never tried them back in the day, I was honestly very amazed at how creamy and blendable they are ☁️
And well, that's it! That’s how I made my illustration. Writing about the process has been kind of a meditative experience in a way. I also feel like reflecting on how I made my piece has brought some clarity on how I could make things better for me the next time, so I will try to make these sorts of entries as often as I can. 
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Thank you so much for reading! ^-^
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rokishimizu4 · 3 months ago
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Spoiler’s Biggest Fan
(Honestly, I think Steph was did dirty, but I really like her in the BatFam Comic (Webtoon whatever) and I’m gonna have fun with this)
“I don’t need a babysitter Steph!” Tim grumbles as he takes a deep sip from his still steaming thermos of black coffee, another day of daytime patrolling (After Signal almost destroyed the Bat Burger with his powers).
“No, but Bab will kick my ass and dye my hair black again if I don’t join you at least once.” Steph counters as she adjusts the mask over her nose and mouth, as she tries to remind herself that it’s just the stress of working during the daytime hours, and being around Bruce again.
“Can you at least pretend that you want to be here?” Tim mumbles as he screws the lid back on his thermos and reattached it to his utility belt, and not waiting for her to reply, jumps off the ledge that they were talking a break on, and onto a Bank car that was getting broken into.
“Not like I was forced into coming back because Cass asked me to.” Steph grumbles back as she follows after Tim, kicking a goon in the stomach and off of the parked Bank car.
An hour or so passes of Red Robin and Spoiler kicking ass, tying up the goons and Mad Hatter, who had escaped the Arkham Asylum only an hour ago, and waiting for the Gotham Police to show up to take Mad Hatter and his goons away.
“Well, at least we got him before it got bad.” Spoiler shrugs her shoulders as she takes a rest against a lamp post.
However, a brief tug on her cape makes her look down and into the eyes of a shy short blonde/purple haired teenager that seemed to take a few steps backwards away from her when they got her attention.
“Sorry Miss Spoiler! I just, um…” “O’hare, there you are, you got to quit running off by yourself.”
Another woman, long brown/red haired and wearing a fancy golden dress with a bunch of bracelets jingling with each step of her fancy flats, comes up to the teenager and gives her a quick scolding of not staying by her side and going towards the danger.
“I’m terrible sorry Spoiler, Red Robin. My daughter is just a huge fan of yours and it’s always been her dream to see either one of you in person, without getting into trouble herself.” The older woman explains with a smile, that almost blinded Spoiler, and gently wraps her arm around the teenager’s shoulders, who was blushing and looking away.
“Oh, it’s no problem! Me and RR were just finishing up here and have nothing better to do!” Spoiler says as she tries to blink away the light in her eyes, not from the sun this time.
“If it’s not too much trouble, may I ask for an autograph? We’re originally from across the pond and only here for a short time before going back for her to go back to school.”
Red Robin, talking quietly to Oracle about the Mad Hatter and how Signal was taking being benched, gave a low grunt when he was pulled right next to Spoiler’s side.
”Of course! Do you have a pen and something for us to write on?”Spoiler quickly checks her own pockets, then turning to Red Robin to try and search him next.
”Hey! Fine, I have a pen on me. Just quit groping me!” Red Robin bats away Spoiler’s hands away and reach into a pocket, quickly pulling out a pen and handing it to Spoiler.
The teenager, O’hare or something, eagerly pulls a sketchbook out from somewhere and flips to a page at random.
Spoiler’s mask threatens to drop as she opens her mouth in silent awe as her eyes meet her own eyes in a very detailed drawing colored in by watercolors.
”I’ve been a fan since I first saw you! We don’t have superheroes across the pond and it’s been my dream to see one in person since I was a child! I even made one for Red Robin!”
Red Robin looks on in awe as O’hare flips to another page and he finds a drawing of himself in mid fight with Penguin, breaking the old bird’s nose with his foot.
”Can I keep this?” Spoiler’s voice, soft and timid, breaks the spell casted by O’hare’s drawings and Red Robin inhales in surprise as Spoiler starts silently sobbing under her mask.
”Oh dear, are you alright?” The mother asks as her daughter flinches back in surprise.
Red Robin, always having something to say, calmly brings Spoiler back to his side and whispers encouraging things to her as the other two people look on in shock.
”She’s just not use to people getting her big forehead perfect. Heh, I’ll trade you an autograph for your two paintings.”
”Deal Mr. Red Robin! And she doesn’t have a big forehead, meanie.”
O’hare quickly, but carefully, rips the two drawings out of her sketchbook and hands them to Red Robin, who in turn signs her a blank page in her sketchbook for both himself and Spoiler.
”Thanks, but we got to get going. Have a good rest of your vacation and be careful.” Red Robin quickly makes an excuse to leave, and drags the still sobbing Spoiler to another location to comfort her.
”I HAVE A FAN!!!!!!” Cue Spoiler bragging about it for the rest of time.
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hoodieseasoned · 1 year ago
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If you're still looking for Empires prompts (I adore your seablings, btw) can we maybe get some pensive Copper King, maybe looking out over the dunes, with a dramatic sky of some kind... I dunno man, I just miss the Copper King and would love to see some art of him. <3
Keep making amazing art!
okay first of all thank you i appreciate this very much i lobe drawing the seablings sm <3
second of all a thing that's very funny to me is that the first two requests i got in my askbox (this included) were both specifically abt empires season 1 pixlriffs hsksksks
I'm guessing there's a drought of copper king content (actually no I'm lying bc i KNOW there's a drought since i spent so long desperately searching through the related tags to find some sort of inspo for a pixl design lol)
anyway here you go
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i did unfortunately forget any and all progress pictures so this is all i have sorryyy 😔😔😔
also the sky is ummmm, interesting to say the least, i got a bit too ambitious at the start and then for some reason the (highly expensive, mind you) watercolor paper i was using decided to act NOTHING at all like watercolor paper so yeh,,, dramatic-ness –100, flatness +50
i am weirdly pleased with the coloring of this tho,,, mainly bc I'm reminded of this old children's storybook i had when i was younger that had art that was similarly painted,,, i should go look for that book
ANYWAY !!! WORRY NOT DEAR ANON !!! i have, after all, gotten ANOTHER request for our dear copper king and i shall try again in hopes for some better results next time :DDD
here i tried taking a normal photo too, i think the addition of my yellow desk lamp light, weirdly enough, adds plenty of vibes to it
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you can kinda see the parts where the paper has started shedding bc of the amount of water i used which is CRAAAAZY considering this was like a really nice brand of paper and quite heavy too !!! i am a tad miffed
a tooootally unrelated question tho: does anyone have any tips and tricks on painting the sky/clouds ????? asking for a friend lol
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sharpbutsoft · 3 months ago
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So I know you do digital art, but The Hanged fireMan looks like a watercolor. Do you work with watercolors as well, or is it the program you use?
(please brag about your art process, basically)
Yeah! So I do all my (fan)art in everyone’s favourite innuendo of an art program, Procreate. (Specifically on a 2019 ipad pro with a 1st gen Apple Pencil, both of which I would tentatively recommend if you can get them 2nd hand for less than 200euro like I did)
I did a lot of painting as a teenager, and still paint often to this day. Though I mostly worked in acrylics, I have been known to use watercolours (like, when I was in college I bought a little 3euro paint set and would use the inside of cardboard cereal boxes as diy watercolour paper and paint wild little Irish landscapes… and Winter Soldier fan art, sometimes. 2017 was a different world)
So in summary - I ‘paint’ digitally using some very traditional techniques I picked up over the years, and I kinda prefer digital art now, which I will elaborate on below the cut as I detail how I created The Hanged fireMan…
I’ll start with my favourite digital art ‘cheat’ which is that I use So Many Layers. Like seriously, pretty much every new colour goes on its own layer because I am a control freak and love being able to tweak them all as needed. So for this relatively simplistic piece, I’ve still got something like 20 layers all together.
I’m also usually better at grouping layers but in this one I gave up at some point and it felt dishonest to group them nicely before showing you guys lol
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So yeah layers is my biggest hack, but the other is using specific texture brushes
I spent a while playing around with various brushes before finding this Tarraleah one which has just the most delicious watercolour-y texture and a really fun edge to it (and it’s got pressure sensitivity, so I can really control the amount of colour I want to put down on the page)
This background was painted entirely with the 1 brush & colour, and I think it turned out pretty cool. For this particular piece I did have a reference on screen to work off for the most part, but those clouded were just painted with my heart
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Next (or maybe before, it’s a while sinceI drew this and sometimes I mix it up) is the lines, which are always done with my best friend, the Procreate Pencil!! I love her, she’s so fuzzy and textured and also if you tilt the tip on the pencil you get a broader line (like with a real pencil) which is just the coolest thing!
When it comes to lines I just sort of go for bigger shapes 1st and details later, and basically always with some kind of reference. I also use a very old & well known trick of putting the most detail into the object of most importance, and leaving the background more loose and vibey
Artists will tell you that this is to draw focus with details. Artists are lying. It’s cause we got lazy after drawing he fun part & phoned the rest of it in lol (I know this because I am an artist)
Also I love this pencil because I don’t have very steady hands and I actually cannot draw straight/smooth lines to save my life! If you’ve ever seen anything resembling a smooth line in something I’ve drawn, it is almost certainly a whole bunch of lines over each other and then erased at the edges to make it look neater
But who needs straight lines when sketchy sketch lines are so fun!
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Next is flat colours (the 3layers in the middle with check marks beside them)
I used the same colours as the background, which you can tell from where they completely blend together right down the bottom, and what I genuinely do is use the Tarraleah brush to generally block out he shape, and then go back in with an eraser and smooth out the lines
Why do I do this? …good question
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Next is one of my favourite parts, which is adding the lights! Procreate has some really fun -glowy- layer effects - my favourite is probably Add (A) though Colour Burn (CB) is great too for its vibrancy.
Also those 2 layer 11s are there because I duplicated one and then used the ‘Gaussian Blur’ feature to ‘fuzzify’ it (yes, that’s the technical term) It’s a pretty quick and easy way to add a more diffused light effect around something. (I did the same for the yellow reflective strips on the turnouts too!)
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Last step now! So full disclosure - I absolutely traced that writing from a photo of a tarot card lol. I actually always trace writing, as, much like drawing straight lines, I’m bad at handwriting on a screen
I also stumbled upon the Exclusion (E) effect by accident - Originally it was going to be a plain cream boarder like a traditional tarot card had, but I wasn’t fully happy with it, so I just flipped through a few layer effects and as soon as I got to this one, I knew it was the right choice
I love the dreamy contrast of the pinks and purples to the dark navy and grey & how it makes everything looks kinda unreal and outer-spacey
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And yeah that’s about it! Everything else comes from my 15+ years of Practical Art Knowledge but these are the specifics of how I utilise it digitally!
This was a lot of fun to write out, and I hope that if you’ve made it all the way here, it was fun to read too!
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miserymerci · 8 months ago
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<- Day 6: Fire Day 8: Smile ->
Fluffy February Day 7: Recovery - Some Assembly Required
@ // fluffyfebruary
Fandom: Lego Monkie Kid
Characters: MK and Sun Wukong, Sunburst duo
(Father-son, mentor-apprentice relationship, sick Sun Wukong)
Summary: Set during “The Emperor’s Wrath”, after Azure’s defeat but before the beach scene. In the wake of their win, the Monkie Kids are free to drag their sore bodies home for some much-deserved rest. For Wukong, it takes the form of sleep. For MK, it takes the form of something else entirely.
Sun Wukong needed to eat because he got hungry, groom because he got fleas, and sleep because he got tired. Though age would never kill him, his body still lived ; he bled and he breathed and, yeah , he did scramble together a nest with leaves and stray cloth and fall face-first into a deep slumber right after the battle.
At the time, everyone else had had the same idea. Everyone went home to tend wounds and sleep the aches away.
So Sun Wukong slept. And he slept. And slept.
Eventually, someone shook him awake.
They were saying something. Though it was muffled to Wukong, it was a kind, familiar thing that did nothing but warm him.
‘What are you doing here?’ he wanted to ask MK, but the sun was too bright in his now-destroyed not-cavern, and he shut his eyes firmly. Blindly, he lifted one lazy hand up, made an ushering motion, and let it drop down to his side.
Wukong heard MK settle somewhere close by. In the next moment, he drifted back to a dreamless slumber.
The next time Wukong woke up, it was of his own accord. He blinked up at the starry sky on a day he did not yet know the name of (and was not yet eager to find out). Part of him hoped that not too many days had passed yet. He wanted to sleep for much longer, and he wanted to do so without worrying if his new friends had succumbed to their own age.
But Wukong reached out in the dark and found MK’s shoulder, and he shut his eyes once more.
“–fficient way of teaching multiplication.”
Wukong blinked. The sky stretched with orange and pink colors, like a watercolor painting that was only halfway through drying.
“No … don’t think … the way I learned it. Wait, where did the twenty come from? That’s not– there’s no ‘two’ anywhere in this equation.”
“Kid,” said Wukong, “ what are you doing?”
The sky was eclipsed by MK’s not-moon and not-sun face.
“Monkey King!” he said, all smiles and nervous energy. “Are you okay?”
“I’d like to go back to sleep,” he said.
“Yeah,” said MK, “but maybe eat something first?”
Wukong looked past MK toward one of his monkeys, who kindly offered him a peach that didn’t look quite ripe yet.
“Thanks bud,” he said. He reached over as far as he could (not very far) and patted the monkey on the head. With a slow movement, he took the peach and let it rest in MK’s hands instead, “but I’m not very hungry right now. Another time?”
Something passed through MK’s face: some sort of disappointment, maybe surprise, but most definitely something that gnawed at Wukong’s insides.
“Okay,” said MK. He sat back on his heels and looked down at the peach.
On one chilly night, Wukong found himself snuggled up in a fuzzy blanket with an armful of kid.
A little star– no, a little reading light– glowed in the darkness. A pencil glided across paper, strokes careful and lazy all at once, as if the lines were in sync with how MK breathed or blinked or smiled. They were easy like that. Practiced– natural, even. Like it was the easiest thing in the world right now.
“How are you drawing like that?” whispered Wukong.
The head that was nested on his arm tilted up.
“It’s not very comfortable,” he admitted, smilingly. He sniffled, tried to wiggle into a less spine-breaking position, and titled the sketchbook for Wukong to see.
“You’re drawing me,” said Wukong. He scanned the page filled with those easy lines. “I look awesome. And cheeky.”
MK tucked the notebook face-down into his chest and stared at Wukong. It was like a child caught with something they shouldn’t have– not shyness, but shame. MK didn’t say anything, but Wukong stared right back and smiled.
“Not very awesome and cheeky now, am I?” asked Wukong, trying to read his thoughts.
“You still are ,” argued MK, “just taking a break.”
“A long break. I’m exhausted, bud. I feel like a ping pong ball– or, well– the ones with the strings. You know?”
“Tennis?”
“What– no. It’s like… the ones that come back.”
“Boomerang!”
“Stop guessing. Go away.”
MK snorted, and even though Wukong didn’t mean what he had said, MK unstuck himself from his mentor’s side and sat up.
“I got you water,” said MK, twisting around. He shoved away a pillow that wasn’t there before and then ruffled around in a pool of blankets. “I’m not sure if you’ve got thirst immortality or something, but I figured: ‘hey, wouldn’t hurt. Water’s great. It’s for everyone.’ Nothing can go wrong with water– except for drowning. But you can’t do that, so… drink?”
Wukong blinked drowsily.
“It’s only been a week,” said MK once Wukong took the bottle. At Wukong’s look he added: “since the battle. If you wanted to know.”
Wukong swallowed. He had wondered, but now that he knew, he admitted that it definitely wasn’t as long as he thought. Maybe he could sleep for another ten weeks. That would do it.
He took another long drink of water. The coolness of it soothed the burning in his throat and brought some consciousness back to his body.
“Where is everyone?” he asked.
“Asleep,” said MK, quickly as if he had been waiting to say something. “Not asleep-asleep– but mostly asleep. Pigsy hasn’t opened up the shop since, Tang’s never even left his apartment, Sandy hasn’t invited me to any yoga sessions, and Mei’s phone is either on silent or she’s sleeping through all of the alarms– she’s a deep sleeper. It’s just… quiet. Everyone’s taking a breather, but it’s quiet .”
“It’s for the best, kiddo. It’s not like we went strolling in a flower field. We need this.”
MK tsked and turned his head off to the side.
“I know, I know. It’s not like I’m judging. Trouble’s been clear from Megapolis, I have time to kick back, and nobody’s being killed. It’s great. I really love it. I do!”
“MK…” said Wukong.
MK tapped his palms against his knees and faced Wukong again.
“I have food,” he said, “in my backpack. Oh , and snacks ! Fruit, even…! If you’re hungry.”
Wukong frowned. In the dark, the only light that graced them was the stars and moon above and that little reading light clipped to the sketchbook. It fuzzed across MK’s face and illuminated something that Wukong desperately wanted to understand.
“Yeah, I’ll eat something,” he said, not actually having any appetite, “what did you get?”
For the first time in a week, Wukong sat up. There wasn’t a dramatic moment of clarity or any call to action, and he didn’t stretch as if he had just had the greatest sleep of his life. (Because really, it was more on the same level as blacking out into nothingness and then waking up somewhere else in the span of one second).
Wukong sat up and huddled the blanket around himself like an old lady. Only when he was halfway into the custard bun he had picked from MK’s snack hoard and five pages into MK’s sketchbook did he say anything.
“I need to rest more,” said Wukong, opting to continue staring at MK’s little drawing of Mo. Mo was a little less out of practice than the drawings of Monkey King– the lines a little scratchier, a little heavier. He felt MK shift beside him. “I don’t feel too hot, bud. Maybe it’ll be another week or two until I’m– we’re– ready again.”
“I get it,” said MK. His tone rang with something kind like water yet mournful like rain. “Do you need anything, Monkey King?”
Wukong frowned.
There was plenty for them to explore. MK’s new identity, for one. Who gave Azure the Scroll of Memory, for another. Neither of those things would go away any time soon. One of the two, at least, Wukong didn’t mind to help explore.
“Time,” said Wukong, finally. “To rest my body and my mind. Do you need anything, bud?”
MK’s brows pinched. It was a funny thing that was comforting to know would never change. MK reached over across his lap and clicked the little reading light off, allowing the night to consume him.
“Not really,” he said. Wukong could hear him zip up his bag and reposition his blanket.
Wukong blinked against the darkness, the cogs trying to turn in his head.
“Well… what is it?” he asked.
“What?” said MK somewhere in the dark.
“You said ‘not really’, which implies there’s something , just a little bit of it. Consider myself a curious monkey.”
“It’s just… a thing you say. It’s modern, so you’re probably too old to know that.”
MK laughed, and Wukong tried to humor him with a smile that he couldn’t see.
“Uhh, disrespectful much? I’m more modern than you think,” said Wukong. It was harder to read MK now that the light had turned off. Still, MK huffed with what Wukong thought might have been another laugh. “You know you can stay, right? If you want.”
A shuffle, but nothing else. Maybe it was MK’s way of accepting it; just as quietly, blending into the cool tone of the night. Wukong didn’t really know. Yet, MK stayed where he was, sitting by Wukong’s side in the dead of a cold night– maybe watching him, maybe watching their surroundings, maybe watching nothing at all.
Wukong shut his eyes. His tail, in his body’s stillness, continued to coil this way and that against the soft blanket. For a moment, they were quiet. The wind hummed through Flower Fruit Mountain and whispered a lulling tune to aching muscles and buzzing heads. Those who listened too closely let their conscious lilt up and up with the wind.
Wukong felt the warm, fuzzy embrace of sleep grabbing hold of his shoulders.
“Really?” said MK, minutes later.
“…Hnn?”
“I can stay?”
Something lazy came out of Wukong’s mouth: not really a yes, but not really a no– because MK couldn’t speak tired monkey fluently yet, and Wukong wasn’t in any condition to be able to clarify.
On that seventh night, Wukong continued to sleep.
On the Eighth day, Wukong woke up to no MK. The blanket he had used was folded neatly some distance away and was being occupied by a trio of sleepy monkeys and one backpack.
Later that night, his kid was here again.
“You’re late,” Wukong tried to joke even as his vision fuzzed. It warbled and shook until he could see MK looking down at him. MK’s focused lines between his eyebrows ceased, and he pulled back what looked like a rag from Wukong’s forehead.
“I am?” asked MK, either genuinely worried or horrendously distracted.
Wukong blinked at him, frowned, and then saw black.
“It was a joke,” said Wukong a few hours later to absolutely nothing.
.
.
.
“…What?” came a quiet response.
“ Oh thank you Buddha– where are you, bud?”
That little reading light clicked on, and Wukong carefully tilted his head off to the side where MK was rubbing at his eyes. The boy– the poor thing– looked like he had just been rattled from his own slumber.
“What?” MK echoed.
“…Do you have any water?”
MK blinked very slowly. Wukong imagined a little loading icon spinning just above his head. He turned and zipped open his bag. Quickly, Wukong found himself with a water bottle in his hands.
“Thank you,” he said and took a drink.
Wukong watched MK from the corner of his eye. His successor sat quietly beside him, eyes closed and breathing steady. They were both underneath the stars again. In all honesty, Wukong thought it fit MK the best: the stars.
But MK was silent now. He opened his eyes, and they made eye contact within the dark.
“Are you okay?” croaked Wukong.
MK smiled at him and shrugged.
“I’m sorry I was gone earlier. I was with Pigsy— he’s starting to feel better. I made him some noodles and helped him with some utility bills that he missed last week. Tang was there too. But then I got a call back from Mei, and I stopped at the gas station for some snacks and pads, dropped them off, tried checking on Sandy… but he’s trying this new meditation thing and I didn’t want to get in the way.”
“Sounds like a busy day,” said Wukong, passing back the water.
MK shrugged again. Maybe it was out of Wukong’s own exhaustion, but MK looked like Wukong had been dragged off a cliff with the way he was looking at him.
“It was,” said MK.
Wukong heard the clacking of plastic against plastic, and he quickly opened his eyes (when had they closed?) to see MK pouring some orange serum into a little cap.
“What’s that?”
“Um,” said MK, peering at the stuff, “medicine.”
“…For you?”
MK looked away from it and blinked over at Wukong. Heis face was carefully blank, like he was trying to be innocent, but something was stopping him from doing so completely.
“It’s for you, Monkey King,” he said. “You have a fever.”
“I do not ,” said Wukong immediately, shooting up to sit. His head spun with the movement and he found himself back down on the ground not even a moment later.
“You definitely do,” said MK.
MK scooted closer to his dizzy mentor and offered him the medicine cap.
“I know you’re a stone monkey, but I think you should give it a chance. Before you pass out again– that was a little scary. Try not to do that next time.”
“I’ll be sure to give you a heads up the next time I do,” said Wukong, trying to be sarcastic but sounding way too confused to really drive home his point. “But I’m not going to drink that.”
MK frowned, clutched the medicine tighter, and accepted the challenge.
For the first two days, Wukong was stubbornly set on not being sick.
MK, the sweet kid he was, never gave up on him (not like he ever had before). He came every day or night, dawn or dusk, with medicine and cool water and food .
“Pigsy helped me make this one,” said MK on the second day. “It’s a vegetable broth.”
“Is Pigsy bothered that you’re here?” Wukong had asked, sipping the soup. The flavors were warm and hearty, but were easy on his tongue; and easy on his stomach. MK had gone on a long tangent about the foods that Pigsy had allowed him to eat when he was sick. Wukong had taken a mental note for potential later use.
“Not really. Shop’s only taking pick-up orders right now, so I’m off duty,” said MK.
“That’s not what I meant.”
MK paused in his sketching and looked over at Wukong. The gleam in his eyes twinkled and he frowned, nose scrunching in concentration.
“…Don’t you need rest, MK?”
The boy’s mouth formed into a quiet ‘oh’ and shook his head. His eyes darted to his lap. There, he began to pick at his nails, but there wasn’t much to pick in the first place.
“He doesn’t mind,” said MK, eventually, but struggled to elaborate. He released a breath and shrugged. “And I don’t mind either.”
There was the sound of water dribbling. In Wukong’s now-quiet haze, MK returned to cooling down his fever with his wet rag.
The three days after that was much better, in Wukong’s opinion.
He slept less, could move more, and finally— finally — he could stop drinking that rancid medicine. (It said it was ‘cherry’ flavored. Wukong almost had the desire to contact his lawyer for the first time in two decades just to sue whoever lied about that ).
Most importantly, MK was a lot happier about it, too.
“Feeling cheeky, yet?” his successor asked with an innocent tilt of his head. His smile, however, told a different tale.
“Almost,” said Wukong, taking the last bite of a peach. “I might be a bit out of practice.”
“That’s okay— I’m up for anything. Give me anything . I mean, I’ve been doing some practices with Macaque here and there but—!”
Wukong spun his head to him and blinked.
MK grinned and then said, “—bbbbuut huh? What? What did..? Ahem . Crazy, I don’t remember what came out of my mouth. Brussel sprouts?”
“Ah— no thanks bud,” Wukong was sick of kale, brussel sprouts, and bok choy right now. “We can do anything you’d like. I’m sure I’ll be up for it tomorrow.”
Wukong watched the way MK perked up.
“You really think so?” asked MK, mid-chew, sounding more like: ‘phu philly phink pho?’
“Let’s be honest, kiddo,” said Wukong. He took a deep breath, stepped over to MK, and then sat down in front of him on his knees. “You’ve spent this entire time looking after all of us— this entire time looking after me . That… shouldn’t have been your job in the first place. It’s the least I can do.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” said MK, even though Wukong could tell he struck some sort of nerve in the kid. His voice warbled and his eyes had gone big and vulnerable.
Wukong squinted his eyes, trying to really look over MK under the bright light of the sun. The bright, clear clarity of day exposed MK in a way that the night could not. MK belonged most with the stars in the sky. While being out in the sun was out of his nature, it helped Wukong, and the gears in his head finally clicked and whirled to life.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, reaching out and grabbing MK’s arm.
MK stared widely back. The tips of his mouth threatened to quiver down, and those worried lines began to form again between his brows.
“Well,” said MK with a weak laugh, “I’d hope not.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” said Wukong.
“Hahah… seriously, Monkey King—.”
“I’m not going.”
“I know that—.”
“I’m here for you. We all are,” MK paused at that, so Wukong carefully continued, “so thank you for taking care of us when we needed it. Let me help you.”
“But,” choked MK, “I don’t need help with anything . It’s why I’m here helping you, and helping Pigsy, and Tang, and Mei and Sandy…”
MK trailed off, gaze dropping down to the floor. Even the stone below was bright and glowy with sunlight.
Wukong leaned forward. His other arm, recovered almost to full strength, curled around MK’s back and pulled him into a tight hug.
“How do you want to recover, bud?” he asked.
MK shifted in the embrace and buried his face into Wukong’s shoulder. His hands, callused by battles, settled at Wukong’s shoulder blades.
“With time,” said MK, “when it passes with you guys.”
Wukong swallowed. Okay, that was a little heartbreaking. MK had wanted support and friendship and love throughout the past two weeks; something that had been, honestly, difficult to give recently. Now, however, Wukong held him closer.
"I'm sorry, bud," he said, but then realized that he may have said that too many times over the past few months, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Thank you for holding through. How about, after we're all a-okay again, we go have a nice day on the beach. All of us."
MK snorted against his shoulder.
"All of us?" MK asked quietly, cheekily.
"Ugh," said Wukong. "except him."
MK's next laugh was muffled, but Wukong could already see his kid's next scheme brewing.
A few days later, watching Macaque slink up beside him, Wukong wasn't completely happy knowing his hunch had been correct.
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leoandraphssoulmate · 8 months ago
Text
Watercolors
A TMNT Easter Short (Can be any iteration you wish!)
I had 90s TMNT in mind while writing this. I just think that the 90s version of Leo is super sexy! 💙💙💙💙💙💙
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90sLeoxReader
FLUFF
You stood in your apartment smiling, your hands running through the box of colorful Easter grass on the table. You didn’t think that it would arrive on time, but it did. Along with four bright Easter baskets and various Easter candies. Your eyes lingered on the bright blue basket for a few seconds, your heart squeezing. You imagined how his face would light up when you handed it to him. Leo. The leader of not only his brothers, but your heart as well. 
You bit your lower lip, a sigh escaping your lungs. When you first met them, having just been accosted, you were just grateful to have been rescued. You had absolutely no idea that the fearless leader would spark something deep inside you as his beautiful blue eyes met yours. 
You didn’t see the shell on his back. You didn’t notice that his hands were two times the size of yours. No. All you saw was his smile. The way it met his eyes when he approached you that day. You saw his light, the way he moved with care. Slowly, tenderly, reaching out for you. 
“Hey.” He said softly. “It’s ok. We’re here.”
You stared up at him from your crouched position. Your heart beating wildly in your chest. No longer from fear. Oh no. Something much more powerful. Slowly you rose, your legs wobbly. You stumbled forward and Leo quickly took hold of your forearms, steadying you. His touch! Your skin sung with an exquisite electricity, snaking upward towards your shoulders. You gasped. Leo’s eyes widened. “Did you feel that?” You breathed. He nodded, slowly. 
Nothing would ever be the same for you two again. 
“Are you ready, my child?” Master Splinter’s voice broke through your reverie. 
You grinned, spinning to face him, unaware that a few tears had managed to escape your eyes. “Are you alright?” He said, concern causing his whiskers to pull downward as he pointed to your face. 
You brought your fingers up to your cheeks. “Oh.” You smiled slightly. “These aren’t sad tears, dad.”
“I see.” His warm brown eyes glistened. “Memories are powerful things.”
“Yes. They certainly are.” You grinned, Leo’s smiling face flashing through your mind. 
“Might I ask what you were remembering?” He asked, stepping around you and up to the table. 
“Oh, I uh,” You quickly blushed. “I was thinking about the time I first met Leo.”
Splinter chuckled. “Ah! Yes. A very complicated memory to be sure. One that both elicited pain and happiness?”
You closed your eyes for a second, his words hitting deeply. “Yes.” As you opened your eyes, he closed his thin soft hand over yours. 
“Fear not, my child. Though the memory remains, the pain is also now nothing but a memory. I am glad that my son was able to counterbalance such a dark time in your life.”
You nodded. “So am I, dad. So am I.” 
“So, how are we supposed to put these together?” He smiled, motioning to the baskets. 
For the next hour, you and Master Splinter carefully constructed each Easter basket with care. Master Splinter added his own twist to the baskets, placing several Japanese coins in with the candy along with Bonsai tree clippings wrapped with silk. “These are for good health and good luck.” He winked, placing the last of the coins in Michelangelo’s basket. 
“I think that’s beautiful.” You smiled. “A nice blend of traditions.”
Master Splinter cleared his throat as he grabbed the cellophane. “I agree. There’s always room for new things. New rituals. Different ways to do things. As long as there is love involved, it should not matter.”
You were practically bursting at the seams with excitement as you and Master Splinter entered the lair, two baskets each in your arms. The guys had never had an Easter before. In fact when you approached Master Splinter about it, you were unsure he’d even go for it. You knew that they practiced Shinto and didn’t want to risk offending anyone with your idea. But when you pitched it to him, he was open to the idea and liked that you were willing to share the Easter tradition with them. You explained that you only really did it for the candy and thought that the guys would get a kick out of getting Easter baskets with goodies. 
Now, crossing the living room to the kitchen, knowing that Leo would be sitting at the table with a cup of tea steaming before him, you smiled, trying to contain yourself. Somewhere behind you, you heard Mikey squeal and your excitement boiled over into a laugh as you rounded into the kitchen. Leo looked up from his comic book, his bright blue eyes widening as you set his basket down on the table, the tea packets behind the cellophane catching the overhead kitchen light, making them shine. 
“What’s this?” He smiled, slowly standing, his chair scraping across the floor. 
You gently set Raph’s basket down, some of the contents shifting slightly. “It’s for you.” You breathed. “Happy Easter, Luv.” 
Leo smiled, pulling you to him, his arms wrapping around you. You pressed your cheek to his plastron, grinning. This was home. He was home. Suddenly the basket, the kitchen, and everything else in the world, no longer existed. All that was left and all there ever was and will forever remain, was love. 
(The contents of Donnie's basket) 💜💜💜💜💜💜
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(The contents of Leo's basket)💙💙💙💙💙💙💙
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(The contents of Raph's basket)❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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(The contents of Mikey's basket)🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡
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@leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @miss-andromeda @scholastic-dragon
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