Some of the brush tests i made yesterday evening with the new FireAlpaca release.(vers. 1.0.38) I’d post more but there’s the 10 image limit and these are the better ones i think. If you want to use some of these as brushes in FireAlpaca, just save them into a folder and you can use the png file directly from F.A. and save them as brushes there VwV
I worked all evening yesterday trying to make good brushes for myself and this is the best one out of that!! I really like using it so far so who knows, maybe other people will like it too! So here’s some of the tests and doodles and the brush itself, upper middle one there. edit- forgot about the settings. If you play around with the custom brush settings in fA enough, you’ll figure it out on your own what’s right for you, but if not, here’s those settings for these:
Eliza Schuyler had never been one for breaking rules.
She knew the way things were supposed to be. She knew how
the world worked, the structures and paths that were all laid out for people to
follow and she saw no sense in trying to go against all that. Of course, some
people called the system restrictive. It did cause its problems. When one
person’s world suddenly exploded into colour when the others stayed resolutely
black and white. For two people on opposite sides of some divide or other, some
imaginary line, to only find themselves staring at each other in full colour
with just the brush of their wrists. When two people brushed up against each
other in a train station, in a busy crowd on an apparently normal day, for one
person’s world to suddenly tilt on its axis, for the black and white to jolt
away only for them to turn around and find whoever had caused it just gone.
Lost in the crowd. A person’s life could change at any moment, with no warning
and no way out of it.
But those stories were few and far between. For most people
the system worked fine. At some college party or maybe at your new workplace or
maybe even the grocery store on some drizzly Saturday morning, a brush of skin
and the black and white world you’d known since you first opened your eyes
would slide away and that was it. Your soulmate. And your new life along with
them. You introduced yourselves and made arrangements, simple as that. There
was no awkward fumbling or uncertainty in most cases, just the knowledge that
you and this person were meant to be together, in whatever capacity they saw
fit. Love and marriage, in the majority. Unshakable friendship in others or a
brotherhood stronger than anything, just a deep rooted, bone level bond between
two people. It was security and safety and it couldn’t be denied, not with the
evidence right there in front of you. Everyone knew that as soon as you made
contact with your soulmate, then the black and white world became full of
colour. Couples who had been together for years spoke fondly of the wonder that
was colour, of being able to apply the simple concept of the word green to the
leaves on the trees, of blue to the roiling sea, of red to the sky on a
particularly beautiful evening. Of having abstract words become a gorgeous
reality, all thanks to the one person who understood you and loved you in a way
no one else could, thanks to finding your soulmate. From that very first touch.
Because those were the rules. First touch, a world of
colour. Soulmates. Such a simple formula.
Eliza was more surprised than anyone to find that she was
the one person who had broken the rules.
!!!HEY!!! Someone asked for a hair tutorial, so I took some screencaps of the process while I worked on one of my commissions and wrote up my thoughts to go with it! If that’s something that interests you, click through the readmore!
She looked beautiful under the silky moonlight in her dark blue gown. Starlight seemed to surround her and he wanted to place his lips on her shoulder, leave his mark for the world to see. He wanted to kiss her, take her soul from her body and place it in his heart.
He wanted more than what your body could give and he wanted it more than anything. He wanted your lips forever on his, your hands forever holding his cheeks, and your body forever against his. He would never get tired of your touch, your gaze, nor your lips. Sehun would never get tired of you.
He made a few words on how gorgeous you looked and how lucky he was to have you here with him. The spreading heat of embarrassment was immediate as he placed his lips on your cheek, giving you a ghostlike peck and it left you wanting his lips on your skin longer, maybe even forever.
You could feel his stare on you, your hands still on his warm cheeks and his hands on your waist. He’s in awe of your ethereal beauty and he didn’t even bother to cover the wanting in his eyes like he usually did.
But his lips has touched your skin and it filled him with a fuel that would never burn out.
“Aren’t I a lucky one?”
He wasn’t a second late as you saw him in front of your door with a bouquet of white roses. You smiled at his gesture, but wondered why it wasn’t the usual blood red roses he used to bring.
“Innocence,” he answered, “it’s a symbol of your innocence I fell in love with.”
So innocent he thought, yet you know his lips have corrupted and tainted you. A stain of blood red color in the pure light of your heart; a wanting, a craving so bad to have him, his devilish looks, and his soft lips.
Never have you had him in bed except for longing stares, playful words, and a few kisses. But everytime you’ve laid your eyes on him, you could feel a coursing heat and a constricting feeling on your stomach. In his eyes was the moon, only lighted and shining when they landed on you. It shone without doubt or hesitation, but feared the endless darkness he would walk in if he loses sight of you. And you wished they never would. You wished to bring him to your bed, wake up next to him, and live with him. You wanted your world to circle around him and only him.
So when you decided to let his lips taint your heart a little more to the beautiful color of red, you didn’t stop. Not even when he was on top of you and you had your mouth screaming his name. You then let him have the honor to call you his and shared your now broken bed with him. He still brought roses to you, sometimes white and others red. White when he had you in bed last night, but only gave you his kisses and sugar words. Red when he had you in bed the other night and had you screaming his name and left you unable to walk in the morning.
Sehun knew he was in love with you the moment your shoulder brushed his in the party. The lights were dimmed, but he could see perfectly well when you looked back at him and smiled. He didn’t remember whether it was meant to be apologetic or merely just a smile. He only knew of how breathtaking you were; a light amongst the darkness he had been waiting.
Everyone was dressed ridiculously well, his eyes moving constantly at each sway of any gown he saw. He spotted a movement of fabric at the corner of his eye, shimmery and dark. He’s immediately captivated by it and waited for the maiden with the dark blue gown to appear. She did after he’s taken his seventh drink. In his dizzy mind, he still managed to catch up to her. His head swayed more than any dress did, yet she still looked clear and beautiful to him, the only thing in focus.
He didn’t remember anything that night except for the parts she was in. A detailed memory of her skin against her dress and the heat he felt as he placed his lips on her shoulder. He could still taste the expensive whiskey in his mouth, but he only remembered her delicate lips on his and the everlasting peace he felt.
You loved him for his roses, his lips, and him. It gave you the feeling of being alive everytime your heart pumped for him and it did every single day without fail as you woke up next to his messy hair and tired eyes.
Loving him grew into a routine that didn’t seem like it. It was a cycle of love, love, and love, constantly falling deeper in love with him. You loved the smallest of things like Sehun reaching for your hand as you slept. Sometimes it didn’t even take a word or action for you to fall in love with him. You’d just stare at him and wonder how your heart is solely his. You’d see him tap his fingers against his thigh as he stared out the window, lost in thought and it dawned to you it was the handsome soul in a handsome body you had fallen for.
It didn’t take much time till you allowed him to have every part of you. He had proposed on the day you had first met. Déjà vu in your every sense as he placed his lips on your cheek with a phantom of a kiss haunting you once again.
“Marry me,” he said, full of promise and hope in his words, “live life forever with me. Let us live in a routine filled with learning more and loving deeper. Make me so in love with you that in all other lifetimes, I’d be jealous of myself. Make me the lucky one.”
Sehun was on his knees with his hands extended, a gorgeous diamond ring sat on the red velvet box. In his eyes were tears and you saw his handsome soul. Your answer tainted your heart a bit more red, giving you life; a yes.
He dedicated a garden to you at the back of your mansion. It was filled with roses and only roses, red, pink, and white. You asked him why he placed pink roses, but he never gave you them before.
“Your light still shines behind all that red blood that pumps your heart, dear.”
The routine continued without disturbance. You loved him more today than yesterday, but not as much as tomorrow. He brought you roses and placed them at the side of your bed before returning to his place beside you. Even in stormy days, he would walk outside and cut out the roses, remove its painful thorns, and wrap it in a delicate way you’ve never seen.
He took care of the garden like a treasure. Nothing else, but roses grew there. It was his symbol of the things he had fallen in love with in you. Your innocence, heart, and light.
Never was there a day that goes by without him saying an “I love you” or “thank you for making me the lucky one”. He’d place kisses on your shoulder to wake you up and kiss you on the lips whenever he found you beautiful (which was all the time). He’s grown to love your little flaws and vices and he’d blow away your tears by a smile and a soft kiss. He was truly a goner for you and so were you for him.
“The world is cruel” was written on the wall of the hospital as he quickly rushed you in. The night was peaceful until he couldn’t sense your heart beating against his palm. He tried to wake you, but still your eyes remained close and there was no blood pumped in your heart.
Sehun cried as he drove to the hospital. He couldn’t lose his love this early in life. There were many things he wanted to do with you. He wanted to be able to still bring you those bouquets of roses everyday. He wanted to still be able to place his lips against yours and feel your warmth. He wanted to continue the routine.
There were no more tears in his eyes when he placed a long kiss against your cold lips. He didn’t dare cry in the last moments he would be able to look at you, his love, his wife, his life. Sehun didn’t want to ruin his memory of how beautiful you looked and how lucky he was to have such a beautiful soul in a beautiful body.
When he had returned home to his empty mansion, he screamed as his eyes laid on the damned garden.
“I’m sorry, sir. It was a severe allergic reaction at the last moment to the roses you’ve been giving her. It built up over the span you’ve been giving them. Sometimes routine isn’t good,” the doctor explained, sighing at the announcement of your death.
His tears came back as he stormed to the garden, intending to tear down whatever he could see. But he couldn’t. They were memories of what he had fallen in love with in you, so precious and delicate. He didn’t dare touch the roses and the poison it was to you.
Sehun finally looked up to the sky after a long time. He’s always had his heaven here with him in a form of you, but now you were no longer here with him. He whispered to the rising moon and stars a promise, “I’ll never stop loving you, jagiya.” He moved his eyes down to the garden and the tears felt more painful than ever. He realised that the garden was corrupted.
For once, there was something else growing in his garden of roses; a weed. It tainted its beauty, its light, its blood. He didn’t bother to remove it when he settled his eyes on it. His heart felt too bitter by the black that consumed it and he could not accept his fate; to live without you, unable to feel your heart beat against his fingertips, kiss your soft lips, and tell you how much he loves you. He no longer had the heart to look at the garden and walked away back to the lonely mansion. His heart broke into millions of petals that fell from the rose that is you and your love. Sehun didn’t stop to look back at the roses that still bloomed and take care of them. There was no use. The routine was broken.
Jae whined on the floor, pushing his toy car across the coffee table and
watching it fall to the floor.
loudly, reading through a file on the children’s hospital budget that he was
stressing over. “This is the first thing you should learn about women Jae,” he
started to tell his son, fiddling with the black bowtie around his neck. “They
take forever to get ready and will probably always be late to something.”
<b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b></b> Imagine if Yusuke aka Brush-kun joins our party not just to steal hearts, but to steal arts and crafts supplies too.... (Just imagine if its like that panty raid scene from that Spongebob episode but instead of the panty raid is a arts and crafts heist)(Someone should draw this)<p/><b>MC:</b> "I guess you're gonna miss the.....arts and crafts heist....."<p/><b>Yusuke:</b> "What?"<p/><b>MC:</b> "I said, i guess your gonna the ....arts and crafts heist..."<p/><b>Yusuke:</b> "Arts and crafts heist? You're talking about art right,art art?"<p/><b>MC:</b> "Yeah..."<p/><b>Yusuke:</b> "And you're talking about breaking into a arts and crafts supplies store to steal paint brushes,paint and many other things that a painter uses to make a painting,right?"<p/><b>MC:</b> "Oh yeah"<p/><b>Yusuke:</b> "Well count me in! If this works i'll join your party!"<p/></p><p/></p><p/></p>
He had the dream again. Running as fast as he could, he just couldn’t ever run fast enough. Dark hair waving just out of reach and he couldn’t catch her. His hand flew up, just about to feel those locks between his fingers. He called her name. Finn eyes snapped open. He was panting in his bed as if he’d just sprinted the length of a football pitch. He put a hand over his heart, trying to slow its incessant beating. Throwing his head back into the pillow he stared at the ceiling. What was going on with him? It had been weeks now. He was exhausted. The same dream kept him from getting any real sleep.
Muse A is an aspiring newcomer to their field of work, and though they have a passion for it, they lack the resources and connections to succeed and achieve what they want to do. By a stroke of luck, they are invited to a very prestigious banquet which some of the best and most talented persons in their field will attend.
Hoping to make connections that will propel them to success, Muse A happily and eagerly accepts the invitation, and begins making plans on what they would wear, who they would see and what they would say. They are positive that this night will change their life forever. For the night of the party, they brush up on their manners, collect their formal wear, and rent a very nice car to make an impression.
At the party, among the ballgowns, tuxedos and flowing wine, Muse A meets Muse B, a very successful and wealthy person and, frankly, one of Muse A’s idols. Muse A is excited to be speaking with Muse B and asks plenty of questions, which Muse B graciously answers.
Towards midnight, the host of the banquet announces that it’s time to eat. Muse A is confused, as they have been eating hor d'oeuvres all night, but confusion turns to terror as the host grabs a guest and sinks his teeth into her neck, blood spilling over the stage and an ear-splitting shriek filling the venue.
Muse A turns to Muse B in shock and horror, only to find Muse B grinning with deadly fangs stretching out of their gums.
Will Muse A escape? Or will they become Muse B’s prey?
Murphy spotted you through the flames of the fire, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as one of the other delinquents continued to flirt. He wasn’t especially attractive, but you weren’t used to this particular kind of attention and his boisterous attempts to impress you were enough to make your cheeks flush red.
The whole camp was celebrating. Ecstatic cheers bounced between the trees, drunken kids danced too close to the fire and many escaped into the forest for a more private setting. They didn’t send instruments down with you, not that there were many on the ark, but a few boys had constructed make-shift metal drums they beat a rhythm on with the palm of their hands.
Murphy downed his drink in one gulp and let the metal cup drop to the ground. He strode over to you, brushing past a few party-goers as he approached, and surprised you from behind.
One hand gripped your arm as he pressed his body into yours, his cheek brushing against your own. He stared down the boy who had taken a liking to you as he spoke.