too lazy to color this time

I’ve seen posts about digital artists problems, and traditional artists problems, but I’d like to make a post about some of the frustrations that arise when your both.

  • I’m either good at drawing in my sketchbook or I’m good at drawing on my intuos, I just can’t be both.
  • I have to pick the canvas size???
  • Going to lineart something digitally that you sketched on paper but by the time you’re about done it looks like trash.
  • “AGH WRONG LAYER”
  • “hhnnnNNNNGGGG THIS DOESN’T HAVE” LAYERS”
  • “I’VE BEEN COLORING FOR SO LONG I FORGOT HOW TO SKETCH”
  • I wanna draw on the computer but I’m scrolling on tumblr instead
  • I wanna draw in my book but it’s on the other side of the room and I’m too lazy to go get it
  • “Where’s my wacom pen??” meets “where’s a fricking eraser????”
  • I tried zooming in on my sketchbook one time

Tradigital artist problems

8

“This one a long time have I watched. All his life has he looked away to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was.” 

Star Wars: Original Trilogy (1977-1983)

Painting practice with Ezra Amell 👌

8

this is meant to be presented as one big long image, but because i don’t have a do-you-love-the-color-of-the-sky kind of death wish, i had to chop it into pieces.

anyway, here’s the long awaited reveal of our data from the fallout survey project we did a few months back. over 2,000 of you contributed to this, so that’s pretty neat!
there are a couple errors and spacing issues my partner and i are too lazy to fix so. here you go.

Tbh

Non-black comic book artists are lazy when it comes to black faces or hair. Especially hair. For almost 50 years comic book writers have preferred to write INTO CANON that Storm has naturally bone-straight hair instead of asking their artists to attempt curly/kinky texture. Other black comic book women have inconsistent, outdated, or even nonsensical hairstyles (when Misty had a huge afro AND relaxed bangs? Wtf was that?!). Hair textures get looser as time goes on (Riri Williams, Helena Bertinelli). Skin tones vary dramatically too. It’s like some of these artist have never even seen a black woman in person.

Black male comic book characters don’t fare that well either (though they are treated better than black women in comics). Hair is either bald or ceaser, with the occasional poorly rendered afro or locs. Faces are usually just same-face white characters with brown skin. Lazy.

If writers want to do justice to black characters they have to make sure the artists do the same. Or, better yet, hire black artists. There are tons of talented black artists right here on Tumblr who can draw, paint, and render circles around “professionals” in the industry. I’m tired, TIRED of seeing varied depictions of white people while black characters all get the same five features.

A Better Word

They say the Fair Folk give journalism majors a lot of grief.

Truths exposed in writing, forms cemented in photographs, stories stripped of flowery prose in favor of concise words. The Fair Folk generally looked down on journalism itself with disdain.

Which made one wonder who would choose to pursue this particular academic career at Elsewhere University.

Some reporters argue learning among the harshest critics on Earth would leave them more than prepared for life beyond the University. Some photographers believe this is the only place on earth to capture something truly extraordinary. Some designers heard even the programs here behave differently, and the words and photos laid out on a screen became something more on paper. Some simply hadn’t known any better.

Bernadette hadn’t known any better.

Elsewhere was affordable, the journalism program seemed decent enough. She liked writing, but did not enjoy chasing victims of the Fair Folk people down for interviews. She liked photography, but knew her writing skills were stronger. So she fell in an unlikely place, a copy editor for the student newspaper. Well, one of. There were many papers, and she’d nearly joined the most prominent one. But the students who worked for it all shared the same bright green eyes, and the rest of the University seemed to avoid that paper like the plague.

Still, she needed experience to graduate in this field, right? Maybe they got a group discount on colored contacts, who knows. People in college are weird like that.

An upperclassman had saved her from venturing too close to THAT paper. He realized she had no salt, no iron, no idea what she had enrolled into. But, like finding her niche, she adapted. Survived her first year without tragedy. (The same could not be said for Sherry from across the hall. One of the Fair Folk had complimented her eyes, and asked if she could have them. Sherry, who hadn’t known any better, jokingly said sure. It’s been months since anyone’s seen Sherry.)

For the most part, the Fair Folk did not venture close to the newsroom. The room itself had been smartly moved the moment time began to behave differently. It was now just a cramped, previously vacant classroom, but with lots of windows. Access to the outside world seemed to weaken the chance of a space being manipulated by time. 

Or maybe that was a comforting lie.

It was a lazy Saturday, salt lines had been neglected and Bernadette was alone when one of the Fair Folk waltzed inside. Silver nitrate burns on her hands betrayed him immediately. His hair was was a dark, voracious black that seemed to leach color from the world around it. His razor-sharp smile held too many teeth. His skin seemed almost translucent.

      “What are you working on?”

A voice that seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere. Bernadette hadn’t given him more than a cursory glance before returning to the story on the screen. If she was afraid, she didn’t show it.

      “Editing a story.”

      “Chopping up pretty words in favor of boring ones?”

She smirked, adding punctuation to a sentence.

“I like to think of it as finding the best words. No sense in having a bunch of empty, meandering words when you can sum them up with one. For instance, I hate the word ‘very.’ It tells me there’s a better word, but the author hasn’t thought of it.”

The boy hummed at this, an unnerving sound, mulling it over.

      “So what if I told you I find this very boring?”

      “I’d say I’m sorry you find it dull.” 

His head tilted with mild interest. It then turned to sniff at her messenger bag, disgust showing at his inability to open it. She had always been particularly careful about her sigils and rowan. Bernadette hadn’t missed this display, tugging the bag out of arm’s reach before slipping a hand inside. Wordlessly, the boy was handed two sealed pads of butter. It was always good to have butter or cream on hand, in case you were taken. Some Fae found stealing humans more fun than actually keeping them and, in such a case, freedom could be easily bought. 

The boy grinned, ripping off the seals and lapping it up like a ravenous dog, teeth razor sharp and dripping. All the while, Bernadette kept editing the story. When every last molecule of butter was gone, he tossed the packs over his shoulder, turning full attention back to her.

      “What if I said I’m very tired?”

      “Exhausted.”

      “Very hungry.”

      “Starving.”

      “Very happy.”

      “Overjoyed.”

      “Very pretty.”

      “Beautiful.”

The boy threw his head back and laughed, sounding like a chorus of the damned, far too many sharpened teeth glinting in the afternoon sun.

      “Perhaps this isn’t so dull. What’s your name?”

      “Timmy,” Bernadette answered without skipping a beat. His grin widened.

      “No, it’s not. I bet Timmy is that reporter you don’t like. You’d be very mean to give me his name.”

She grinned in return, not at all fazed he knew there was someone here she loathed. The Fair Folk always knew something about something.

       “I can be devious sometimes.”

He laughed even harder, the room seeming to shake with the thunderous sound.

      “What did Timmy do?”

She scowled.

      “He’s a narcissist and a douchebag. Timmy encouraged one of our first-year photographers to capture Genevieve on camera for his story, and we haven’t seen the photographer since.”

The boy whistled, every gap of razor teeth producing a different tone. Her days of playing clarinet had long since passed, but she could have sworn every tone was sharp.

      “Genevieve does not like cameras. But she loves names. Perhaps a trade…”


Four days later, Timmy vanished, and Bernadette opened her dorm room to find the photographer on her futon, paper white and shoveling ramen noodles like he hadn't​ eaten for week. Knowing how obscure time can be in Elsewhere, it definitely could have been a week. His hair now turns green on Tuesdays and bank holidays, but he’s otherwise no worse for wear. And his hands are always burned. Always.

Every once in a while, when the salt lines are neglected, the boy with many voices returns. He has new phrases for her to deconstruct every time.

x

LIPSTICK ੭  JUNGKOOK

Contains : drabble, roommate!jungkook, SMUT !  

Group : BTS  

Member : Jungkook/Jeon Jungkook

Words : exactly 1,2k

Summary : Jungkook never thought that a few lipstick stains would turn him on.

Originally posted by jkookisdaddy

A/N : I just wanted to post a little something since I’m pretty inactive because of my finals. Inspired by that time I kissed one of my friends on the cheek to see if my lipstick would tranfer and he got super cocky about the stain.
Feedback or a questions, everything is here !


“Y/N, what are you doing ?”, laughed Jungkook, resting the controller on his thigh.
From his spot on the couch, he was watching you tap your finger on your lower lip, before examinating your fingertip.

“I need to see if my lipstick is going to stay through the night.”, you explained, tapping once again your finger on your lip, your eyes cheking your makeup. You were going out tonight, seeing old friends from highschool, and everything needed to be perfect, you wanted people to look at you and be stunned.
The dress hugging your body was enough to leave your roommate breathless, but you were prouder of your makeup, everything was perfect, if it wasn’t for the said lipstick.

“Is that the one you bought last week ?”, asked Jungkook, leaning against the couch.
You hummed, remembering the day you dragged the boy to Sephora. Fortunately, he didn’t complain, or maybe you just didn’t listen to his desperate sighs, but he helped you pick a color, the dark chocolate, almost purple color catching his eyes.

“Why don’t you just do the thing you do with your hand.”, he asked gesturing to the top of his hand, talking about that time he saw you place your lips on your hand.

“Ugh, I’m too lazy to wash my hand after, or to go get a tussie.”, you sighed, looking at the clock.
Jungkook laughed, getting up and walking towards you before looking at himself in the miroir. Running his hand in his hair, he gave you a faked annoyed look.

“Do it, we’ll see if it leaves a stain.”, proposed Jungkook, tugging at the collar of his shirt, revealing his golden skin a little more.

Smiling at Jungkook, he lightly pushed your shoulder, it wasn’t the first time that he allowed you to test your lipsticks on him and he knew you were dying to test this one too. It just happened one time when you were on a rush, no tissus or anything to place your lips on, and since Jungkook didn’t mind having a stain that he could wash off just after, he was the guinea pig.

Grabbing your roommate’s chin, you quickly kissed a trail from his cheek to his collarbone, as he tilted his head.

“Ouh, that’s a lot.”, you noticed, eyebrows furrowed. A mark of your lips were clearly visible of his cheek, another one in the middle of his neck, and the last one on top of his collarbone, more faded, but it was there.

“I’m definitely taking it with me, I’ll probably have to do some touch ups.”, you mumbled, grabbing the lipstick before throwing it in your purse, not really paying attention as Jungkook stayed silent.

His eyes were glued on the miroir, pupils blowing wide a little bit more as he discovered the stains. Licking his lips, he slowly parted them, feeling his sweatpants grow thighter.

Biting his lower lip, he nodded as he heard you say something, but he never payed attention, a finger coming to touch the stain on his neck.
Why was he so turned on by such a simple thing, was it the stains, or you ? Or both ? His hand was aching to wrap around his growing length, but his line of thoughts got cut by the loud sound of the front door closing.

His breath grew uneven as he looked around the apartment, before quickly walking towards his room, his game still paused on the tv screen.
Not caring to close his door, he left it slightly open, sitting on the edge of his bed, facing the miroir in front of him.
Giving him a full view of his body, Jungkook quickly took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor, as if he was afraid that the lipstick stains would fade away.

With the huge miroir, it was even better, he could clearly see the three marks along his cheek and neck, the last one almost looking like a really dark hickey.
His mouth fell agape at how good the color looked, the brownish stains contrasting with his skin.
His hand went to his bulge, feeling his already hard cock as a few locks of hair fell in front of his eyes.

Lips slightly pink, glittering with a coat of saliva, his hand grabbed his sheet as the other sneaked beneath the fabric of his sweatpants.
A sigh of relief left his lips when he felt his rough hand wrap around his base, teasing himself as he started to slowly move up and down.

His mind was fogged, focused on the ounce of pleasure he was giving himself. Head tilted to the side, he was trying his hardest not to close his eyes, he wanted to see the marks and his skin.

His thumb collected his pre-cum, speading it, a pleased sigh leaving his lips. His movements grew faster, pleasure taking over his body and soon enough, he was pushing the hem of his pants down.
The sound of skin filled the room, alongside his sighs, grewing deeper and deeper.

But, his hand wasted enough, he had to use his imagination, his mind wondering.
He tried his best to remember the feeling of your lips on his skin, picturing them kissing down his torso, and his hand pumped faster as he imagined your mouth around his cock, a groan leaving his lips.

Maybe your lipstick would leave a few rings around his shaft, a deep moan coming from his chest. He never thought that a few marks would turn him on, but there he was, using his hand to catch his climax because of them.

“God.”, he breathed, his hips bucking. A gasp left his lips as he pictured you again, seeing you in that dress, wishing his could take it off, and let his hands wonder around your body.
His lip got caught in his teeth, closing his eyes as he imagined what he would do to you, the taste of arousal linguering on his tongue. And god, he wished you didn’t leave, his hand moving faster and faster, chassing his high.
“Y/N, fuck.”, it left his lips without thinking, the blurry image of your body underneath his clouding his mind, his cheek slightly pink, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and torso.

He lost track of everything as his mind started making up how your moans would sound, how your voice would sound as you were begging him to fuck you, how you voice would crack as you moan his name, getting closer and closer to your climax.

His Adam’s apple bobbed against the skin of his throat, regular gasp leaving his lips as he mumbled incoherent phrases. He knew he was getting closer, bucking his hips, before letting out a loud moan, his voice cracking towards the end in what sounded like your name. Panting, his hand slowed down as he released, cum dripping on his torso.

Jungkook slowly opened his eyes, chest falling up and down at an irregular pace as he tried to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, head falling back, trying to process everything.

“Jungkook ? I forgot my wallet.”

And his eyes shot open.

4

no reposting/removing my signature/artist comments thnk you!

This is based off of the talented @y-annah florist/tattoo au, which I am always a goddamn sucker for. They haven’t shown what kind of tattoos Keith has yet so I just kinda winged it, hope that’s ok! 

more under the cut!

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I mean, he deserved better too