#this was a pencil sketch in my sketchbook but i scanned it and finished it digitally cause thats like the easiest way to draw on my tablet

[arinmoss]

side profile sketch doodle of some guy

[akai-akai]

okay so I've ranted about my "Simon Riley is a Dork" philosophy, now I bring you...

John MacTavish is a NERD.

I see how he's often pinned as the rambunctious "airhead" of the team, and that may be true to some to degree but he's not STUPID.

Listen, this man is a demolition expert. That involves all kinds of maths, measurements, electrical work, mechanics, technical shit I'm not well-versed in, etc. Demolitions experts have to be pretty damn smart to be considered experts.

I think Johnny was 100% a robotics kid growing up. Maybe even dabbled in coding and mathematics club. I seriously think he was one of the nerdy kids in highschool/secondary school.

And though that part of him is still very much there, it's quieter now. Shrouded by professionalism and experience and maturity. But then, sometimes when he's had a few too many drinks, or if Simon plucks just the right strings, he'll go on these long tangents about the different mathematics, or about this robot he built by hand in highschool by himself in his parents' garage-turned-robotics-lab— the garage lab that he accidentally set on fire and blew up a can of old hairspray his sister had left on his desk. (He totally wasn't using it as a blowtorch to kill some poor unsuspecting bug, his sister just left the spray there and he didn't notice it. That small burn scar on his left hand is completely unrelated.)

And of course, Simon will sit quietly and patiently, watching the way Johnny's eyes light up and his face gets more and more expressive, arms and hands moving wildly, animatedly. He's so passionate, it makes Simon's eyes soften with affection.

And when Johnny's especially focused on the blueprints in front of him during a mission, clock ticking and pressure weighing down on him, he's a sight to behold. Somehow, that's when he works best. Brows pinched, lips pressed in a tight line as his brain works over the details, pieces a plan together as he mutters under his breath, pen scratching on the paper, recites numbers for the other team members to remember. And then his brows smooth out and he gets this giddy look as things click together in his mind and his head snaps up and he gets to work— John knows to let him take the lead here, and quietly notes to himself that John MacTavish would make for a great Captain down the line.

Sometimes when he can't sleep or his mind's a little too loud, he'll sit up at the little desk in his barracks with the dim lamp illuminating a worn-out blue sketchbook, pencil eraser trapped between his teeth as he scans his old notes and sketches and unresolved equations. Mundane math and physics that doesn't take a lot of mental power, but still relaxes him nonetheless.

In addition, he'd be good at sketching. Specifically blueprints and modeling. Dimensional stuff and perspective. Finds a quiet corner somewhere on base— usually that old tree out by the dirt track— and sketches away models, some of which are totally unrealistic but he doesn't care. He'll sketch a giant sci-fi atomic canon model with realistic mathematics and semi-viable science behind it if he wants to.

When he needs to memorize a new model, he'll draw each individual piece, each little working part as if he's dissecting it and mapping it out in his brain. Sometimes when Simon flips through Johnny's sketchbooks, he'll find 10+ pages filled with the same model, over and over, and it's like he can see every thought process, every reasoning, every time Johnny clicks something together in his mind.

Johnny is brilliant. He's a scientist, an expert in his field. He's a total nerd and I love him for it.

(His average shower thoughts are either complex science that would give the average person a migraine, or Simon's eyes. No in between.)

NSFW:

This time, the tables are turned. Johnny will be mid-ride on top of Simon in bed, purposely distracting himself in his mind to hold off his own release (bc it's a competition and he'll be damned if he finishes first) and then suddenly he'll remember a bomb blueprint he was deconstructing the previous day and he'll plop down, sitting up stock straight as he curses and something makes a PING! sound in his brain and suddenly he's leaning over while Simon raises a questioning brow, hands still firmly gripping Johnny's hips as he snatches his notebook and pen from his table side drawer, flops the book unceremoniously on top of Simon's chest, hunches over, and begins writing and muttering to himself.

And Simon just waits, halfway between disgruntled and amused. Just sorta resorts to grinding his hips upward— to which Johnny firmly plants his hips downward, keeping them still, and Simon just sighs and waits some more.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Simon's in love with this idiot, don't let him fool you. I love them a healthy amount.

[raggedytiger]

HIHIHI I LOVE YOUR ART !!

Not sure if this has been asked before but what pen and art program do you use?

hi!! TYSM!!! i use autodesk sketchbook pro (not smart enough to learn a new one like procreate lol)! i use this brush (its one of the presets):

but a lot of the time my drawings are dark pencil on paper that i've scanned in & cleaned up! i'll use that brush for that, but its generally my ol reliable for drawing digitally. i keep the high pressure/low pressure sizes very far apart, so i can sketch with both tiny marks and filling stuff in, without having to switch brushes.

for these two panels, the first is digital (i traced over a traditional scan but it didnt look good enough by itself lol) and the second is a scan that i've edited:

you can see the difference in the quality of the lines! i find traditional easier to do sometimes, and i much prefer how it looks when scanned and finished, but it can be really hit and miss since it requires more cleanup and i can't 'edit' it so easily!!

i hope this answers your question hehe

[secretly-a-catamount]

A collection of all current Malcabel fics that have been written by me, because i’m insane about them (positive) and have been debating which one I should work on next

Currently Untitled | Finished Beach Fic

  It was all Catarina Loss’s fault really.

  “Honestly, Malcolm,” the sky blue warlock had told Annabel’s husband when he’d called her positively panicking about being in charge of her (many times removed) nieces and nephews for a day, “why don’t you and Annabel just take the kids to the beach?”

  Trusting his friend’s judgment more than his own had been a rather terrible idea, Annabel thought amusingly as she watched the blond warlock race down the shoreline, waving his arms like a mad man, shouting that under no circumstances were the children to poke at that beached jellyfish with a stick, yes, Tiberius, even if it was already dead.

  After some whining (the children) and some poorly concealed begging (Malcom), the Blackthorn kids dispersed into the water and across the sand.

  Malcolm trudged back up the beach, and stood at the edge of the shade thrown by the umbrella stabbed into the ground.

  Annabel looked up from her drawing pad, her black brows furrowing in irritation at the shadow abruptly cast over her sketchbook. “You’re blocking my light.”

  His pale skin flushed a delicious raspberry red as he stammered out an “Oh, right, sorry” and moved to sit beside her on the blanket, smiling sheepishly. After a moment of comfortable silence, Malcolm absentmindedly ran his hand down her arm, stopping only to trace the black lines, curves, and whorls of her Runes. His touch was soft and light as a feather. “What are you drawing?”

  “You obviously.”

  “Obviously.” A pastel sketch of Malcolm in his striped black-and-white bathing suit, looking tall and thin and almost frail, with a softness to his frame and features that matched his disposition. A faint salmon-pink sunburn covered his face and shoulders, and his lips were cracked (Annabel would solve that one way or another, either by gifting him the tube of chapstick she’d squirreled away in her purse or by kissing him until he couldn’t breathe).

  “The kids.” Ty and Livvy and some golden-haired Mundane boy that Annabel didn’t know chasing a seagull. Mark and Helen teaching Tavvy how to build a sandcastle. Dru, Julian, and a different golden-haired child that Annabel didn’t know, this one a Shadowhunter girl with a spill of bright curls and a practice training sword, diving into the ocean and swimming around in the shallows.

  “Church.” The fat, blue feline crouched down in the dunes, fluffy tail held erect, eyes focused on a mouse in front of him, mere seconds away from a pounce that Annabel knew would end in failure.

  “The L.A. Institute.” An imposing building that Annabel didn’t think could ever have the ability to look homely.

  “Home.” A snapshot of their living room, a Polaroid pinned with a paper-clip for reference, Malcolm’s latest draft of the Codex — her illustrations not yet accompanying his neat, meticulous writing — spilling off the end table onto the soft, red couch, one of Annabel’s favorite mugs (which would always be filled with tea, Annabel and Malcolm both hating the taste of coffee) filled with paint-streaked paint brushes and colored pencils.

  “And my first love, the sea.” Cerulean and cobalt-blue waves crashing to the shore.

  “Should I be jealous?” Malcolm had moved from her arm to her hand, gently interlacing their fingers together.

  “Oh, immensely. I’m definitely leaving you for the ocean.”

  Malcolm’s laughter was interrupted by a shriek of pain.

  With a quickness that could belong only to a Shadowhunter, Annabel leapt to her feet. Heart hammering, she scanned the beachfront with frenzied eyes, her fingers itching to pull the wickedly-sharp daggers from the sheath she wore on her ankle . . .

  There — there was no danger present other than one of the children perhaps twisting their ankle. It hadn’t been a scream of pain, but a shriek of childish delight as Dru and Julian teamed up to toss the golden-haired girl — Annabel wanted to say her name was Emily? — into the shallow waves with a mighty splash of saltwater.

  Collapsing to the ground as quickly as she’d risen, Annabel scrubbed at her face, her eyes starting to sting with tears. This was how it always was whenever she and Malcolm left home, whenever they left Cornwall. She would be fine, and then she wouldn’t be. She would be fine, and then she would have a breakdown. Blood splattered against her lips and — blood?

  She wasn’t bleeding, her ruined hands barring no scraps or marks (although plenty of Marks), but she had a sinking suspicion of who was.

  “Ouch,” Malcolm said, “I think you grabbed my hand just a little too hard.” He smiled — why the hell was he smiling, she’d gouged her nails into his skin until he bled, she’d hurt him, she’d hurt him — moving to sit beside her on the blanket once again. His purple eyes darkened from the pale petals of violets to polished chips of amethyst with worry.

  “Are you hurt?” He took her hands in his own, turning them over gently and examining them, his head bent. Shadows and sunlight caught on the strands of his white hair.

  “No. But you are.” She yanked her hands out of his grasp and ground her teeth together, telling herself that she was not going to cry in front of the children (who were not remotely paying attention).

  “It’s fine, darling, really.” A flash, a spark, and pale light wove between Malcolm’s fingers until it looked like he held a burning star in his cupped hands. The scent of his magic — burning cinnamon and crisp snow and freshly spilled ink — reached her nostrils just in time for his flesh to knit back together.

  Drawing her knees to her chest, Annabel buried her face in her hands, squeezing her eyes shut so hard her skull hurt. I hurt him, I hurt him, I hurt him, I hurt him, I—

  Annabel barely heard as Malcolm got to his feet and shouted to the children that they needed to leave. She could barely hear anything over the dim in her head, the memories threatening to drown her. The clashing of wolves’s teeth, her father carving off her fingers, her sister crumpling dead to the ground from the blow she dealt to her temple with a fire-poker. She could still taste her husband’s blood in her mouth, she could still smell her sister’s blood, she could still feel her blood flowing from wounds made by her father’s knife.

  A wave curling around her ankle, Annabel was being dragged out to sea by a hated, if familiar, riptide. She was treading water, but she was so tired of fighting to live, of fighting for the right to live. She stopped for a moment to rest her too-tight skin and weary bones, and then she was drowning.

  She was drowning.

Currently Untitled | Unfinished Canon Divergent AU

  Her hair black, her skin white, her eyes blue and green and gray and all the colors of the ocean that swallowed men whole with little regard to their flimsy, mortal lives: Annabel Blackthorn was dead.

  Wearing angelic brands, the barred teeth of a wolf, laughter, complacency, and lies, drawn tight around her like a cloak, like a shield, like a funeral shroud: Annabel Blackthorn was dead.

  White hair and purple eyes and a whisper of her name as the last words on his lips, she had died months ago when they had looped a noose around Malcolm’s neck.

  She had died, but her body still wasn’t where it was supposed to be. She had died, but her body did not rot in the grave, did not decompose under the crust of the earth. She had died, but she had not swung — they would not let her. Her family had been ruined from when she had tried to flee with her beloved, a suicide would be inconsolable to their reputation.

  So they had arranged for her to be married to her cousin and shut away in one of their houses far away from Cornwall, far away from even Idris, as if she were mad, as if she was dangerous, as if she was deadly.

  They were right, of course, one of the few things they were ever right about. And they didn’t even know that they were right, they underestimated her, they always had, that would get them all killed.

  She was the mad girl — and she was a girl, barely past eighteen — who shattered a looking glass with her coiled fists and used the jagged-edged shards to cut lines and whorls into her skin. They took away everything sharp after that — or, at least, away from her, a Shadowhunter family never being able to not have weapons on hand.

  She was the dangerous girl who mixed rat poison in her sister’s wine. This sister, youthful and kind as she was, had been the one to sell out Malcolm and Annabel to their parents, had been the one to release the wolves who tracked them down, had been the one to physically restrain her when they executed Malcolm. They fired the rat catcher after that — wrongly thinking he had committed the killing as a product of jealousy from being born a Mundane.

  She was the deadly girl who, when the party was over, when the sky was as black-and-blue as the the bruises her cousin left on her thighs and hips and arms, straddled her husband, fitted her hands to the curve of his throat, his pulse beating beneath her fingertips, and squeezed, a Strength Rune etched on the deceptively delicate-looking wrist hidden underneath one of her billowing sleeves. She did not know what they would do when they found out — she did not intend to live that long.

  Thrashing like a netted fish, he clawed at her fingers, her hands, and her arms. Crimson blood splattering into his mouth and eyes, drowning and blinding him as he died. His cries for help were silenced into choking, wheezing gasps.

  He fought. Annabel fought harder.

  She lingered for a moment before slipping to the floor.

Currently Untitled | Unfinished Soulmate AU

  The First Mark, as they were called, carried from birth on the skin, where a gift from the Angel. A way to lead his children along their path to their soulmate, a way to bred better Shadowhunters, birth better warriors.

  And as everyone knew, decrees from the Angel could not be challenged.

  They were Law.

As the World Burns | Unfinished AU

  “So, that’s it than? We’re all fucked?” Annabel Blackthorn stood at the counter, shoulders set, taking her anger out on the wilting tomatoes spread across a dented cutting board, her posture as perfect as a taunt piano wire. Outside the window the sky was black as pitch and completely starless, almost as it knew what was coming, almost as if it mourned for the thousands of lives that were going to be lost. Innocents, slaughtered by his hands, his magic, his inventions.

  “I don’t — I can’t . . . I’m so sorry, Annabel. So, so sorry.” Malcolm nearly collapsed to the floor but managed to catch himself on the edge of the counter at the last possible moment. His briefcase clattered to the stone tile, emptied of everything that had made it important just hours earlier.

 She softened, as she always did when he spoke, and abandoned their last dinner, pulling him into a soft embrace. Malcolm stilled under her touch, his breathing slowly evening out. He wasn’t safe here, he wasn’t safe anywhere, not anymore, not in so, so long, but he was safe with her.

  Together they collapsed to the floor.

Currently Untitled | Unfinished Vampire!Annabel AU

  “No, please!” the woman said fearfully, “Don’t hurt me!” Her dark eyes desperately tried to find something in the swallowing darkness.

  “Now, now, my svelte beauty,” purred the creature as it slipped out of the shadows, “no need to make a fuss.”

  It was a man, with sharp, inhuman teeth, pupil-less eyes, and unnaturally pale skin. He wore a black cloak with a high collar and a blood-red gemstone clasp. He spoke with a foreign accent.

  The woman screamed as the monster grabbed her by the shoulders and sunk his fangs into her throat. Blood splattered against her white dress as she struggled, shrieking for mercy, then suddenly, with a burst of strength, the woman—

  “Don’t worry, kid, there’s not enough blood in your veins for any one of us to want to do that to you.”

  Kit jumped. Heart skipping a beat at the abrupt appearance of a girl — who looked around nineteen, and quite obviously a vampire, which was weird because he thought vampires weren’t allowed in the Institute thanks to the Shadowhunters’ magical racism — he spat out a string of profanities, and then said, “God, you scared me.”

  “Nothing to do with God here. Creature of the Dammed and all that.”

  He blinked, not sure what to make of her joke, and then decided to focus on the more pressing matter. “Who the hell are you? How the hell are you here?” He tightened his grip on the dagger he’d liberated from the Blackthorn’s weapons-room.

  “Now that’s more in my wheelhouse.”

  The girl neatly sat herself down on the couch beside him. Her movements weren’t particularly inhuman, but the sword that hung from her hip certainly was. The blade was sleek, long, and almost delicate-looking. Seemingly made from the same material that the Shadowhunters’ special knifes were made from — some sort of crystal-metal alloy that belonged exclusively to the Shadowhunters, because they’re just so good at sharing, Kit thought bitterly — the sword shone subtlety, while the black runes inset into the blade.

  “I’m Annabel Fade, the Head of the L.A. vampire clan.  As for why I’m here, I need to talk to Emma and Julian. Do you know where they are?”

  “They went on a patrol.” Kit answered, turning the dagger in his hand over and over as he talked, a mindless, repetitive motion that brought him comfort. “But how are you here, like, in the Institute? I thought—“

  “Auntie Annabel!” A shrike, a blur, and Annabel was engulfed in the littlest Blackthorn’s embrace.

“You came! You told me she wouldn’t, but she came.” Tavvy clung to Annabel’s black leather biker jacket like a determined octopus as she moved to give Livvy — who’d just come into the room with a ridiculously giant tub of popcorn in her hands — a one-armed hug. Standing next to Livvy, who wasn’t by any means particularly tall, Kit realized that Annabel was actually kind of short.

  Livvy accepted the hug, stuck her tongue out at Tavvy, and said, “I didn’t say she wouldn’t come, I just said it would be hard for her to. ‘cuz of the warding.”

[gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley]

Flight of the Love Letters [G.W. x Muggle!Reader]

Summary: You spot a flying blue car in the sky, and the driver of the car, George, walks into your life by coincidence.

Word count: 3.36k

warnings: brief angst

a/n:  JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS IS THE LONGEST ONESHOT I’VE WRITTEN YET I THINK I GOT TOO CARRIED AWAY but this is my apology for not writing for a day or two!!!!

It all started when you saw that blue flying car. You never imagined you’d find yourself buying an owl to send love letters to the driver of the flying blue car.

  It was an ordinary day like no other. You wandered down the streets of London, decked in heavy layers of clothing as the temperature started to drop. It was peaceful, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Your eyes wandered around as you observed your surroundings. People-watching was always something you found yourself enjoying. Every stranger you saw on the street was an individual who housed their own stories, and that fascinated you. Examining the way they dress, tie their shoe laces, or the way the walk always had you guessing their character. 

  You found an empty bench by the road side and plopped yourself down on it with a huff, causing cold mist to come out of your mouth. You straightened out your brown coat before pulling something out of it-- a sketchbook. It was well-loved as tiny scratches and what-nots decorated its cover. The outlines of the pages were crumpled and stained with coffee. You fluttered it open to a fresh page before pulling out a graphite pencil from behind your ear. Tapping the page lightly, you pondered about what to sketch. Your eyes scanned your surroundings, in search of a possible subject. Suddenly, something caught your attention. It was a baby blue car, except it wasn’t on the road like how cars were supposed to be. Instead, it was in the sky. Your eyes widened in fascination. You saw a ginger-headed boy in its driver seat with hands on the steering wheel. You wondered what he could possibly be steering; after all, it was flying!

  Without wasting another second, you glided your pencil over the page. You sketched the basic shapes; a rectangle and a couple of circles. By the time you looked back up, the flying car was no longer there. Defeated, you dropped your shoulders. It wasn’t every day where you’d see a car in the sky. You looked back at your half-drawn sketch of the car. Other than the missing details, it was missing another element. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to figure out the missing piece of the puzzle. Then, it came to you.

  The red-head in the driver’s seat.

  A new glimmer of hope found its way to your eyes as you began to sketch the driver. You tried desperately to recall what he was wearing, given you couldn’t exactly see what he was wearing. You remembered seeing him wear a knitted sweater with what looked to be the letter ‘G’ embroidered in the center. By the time you finished sketching the red-headed driver, the drawing looked complete. To add the magical, finishing touches, you added clouds to frame the sketch of the car. It was complete. You added your signature, and jotted down the title of the sketch.

  “The Boy in the Flying Car.”

--

  Weeks had passed since that spectacle, and you found yourself seated on that same bench. As usual, you had your sketchbook in hand, pencil in the other, with a determined look on your face. You were sketching away, drawing thumb-sized portraits of people who walked past. Some were smudged due to the side of your hand constantly rubbing away at the graphite. You were deep in concentration, when you were suddenly pulled away from your trance by the presence of someone.

   A tall, lanky figure loomed over you, his shadow casting itself on you. You looked up to be greeted by a friendly smile that seemed contagious. You found yourself smiling back at the boy. He had long, fiery locks of hair that fell around his face, like the portrait of a painting. He had freckles peppered around his face like the works of Jackson Pollock. Something about him screamed magic, mystery, rebellion. He seemed like he came from another world donning the appearance of a young teenage boy. 

  “May I sit here?” The boy asked, eyeing the empty spot next to you.

  “Yeah, sure.” You quickly shifted, making space for the boy to sit.

  He was dressed in orange khakis that fit loosely around his legs. His top caught your attention-- it looked familiar. It was green and had the letter ‘G’ on it. It looked hand-knitted with love, and something else. It screamed out to you, telling you it wasn’t just a pair of hands that knitted it. It screamed wonders, sparks of light, and magic. A silence fell over the two of you as the breeze brushed past your bodies. You were flipping through your sketchbook when you stopped on the page where you sketched that magnificent car. You froze when you noticed that the boy sitting next to you looked similar to the boy in the driver’s seat of the car. You slowly turned to him, in shock.

  “Were you,” you paused, unsure of how to phrase your question without sounding like a mental hospital escapee, “driving a flying car a few weeks ago?”

  The boy turned to you, his eyes widened in shock as well. His mouth was wide open, trying to find an answer to your question. You were just some random stranger he took interest in-- how could you possibly have known?! 

  “Well, yes, but--”

  “That’s bloody wicked!” You shouted in uncontainable excitement.

  His face melted between different emotions, ranging from surprise to exasperation. He was pleasantly surprised at your reaction. If any other muggleborn knew he was driving a car sky-high, they would’ve laughed and brushed it off as a joke. You, however, were genuinely interested, and that sparked something inside of him. He wanted to show you more of his world.

  For the next few hours, he told you about his background. His name was George, George Weasley. He was a wizard. You surprisingly took in that information well, for you had a knack for the unexplainable. He went to a wizarding school and was currently on summer break, just like you. He was a year older than you, and had a twin brother named Fred. You were in awe at the facts about the wizarding world he was bestowing upon you. One fact had caught your attention. Wizards communicated through letters sent by owls. That was the moment you fell in love with the wizarding world, and much more.

  The following weeks was spent talking to George on that same bench you’d meet up at the same time. You’d show him your sketches in exchange for more fascinating facts about the wizarding world. However, you also found a flurry of emotions whirling in the depths of your stomach each time you met him on that bench. George was a beautiful boy, you’ll admit. The way his face was framed by his luscious locks of hair captivated you. He was a finely sculpted figure. His smile lines were like intricate strokes of paint, and the way his smiled-- God, he was beautiful. He’d make a fine painting, you thought to yourself. You spent a few moments admiring his features as he babbled on about his favourite shop, Zonko’s. Before you knew it, you were sketching him. You captured the essence of his beauty accurately. Each stroke was drawn with passion. By the time he noticed you were no longer paying attention, he paused. He looked at you as you were deep in concentration. The sound of the pencil’s scritches pleased him, and so did the sight of you deeply focused. He smiled and allowed the silence to befall upon the two of you. You broke the silence after a few minutes of uninterrupted sketching with a question he was waiting for you to ask.

  “Say, George,” you started, not once looking away from your sketchbook, “can muggles send letters?”

--

  You found yourself in Diagon Alley, a place where wizards and witches alike did their shopping for the school year. George had led you to there to buy an owl to keep in touch with him. The thought excited you, and you were more than excited to keep a pet owl. George led you by the hand to Eeylops Owl Emporium, a shop where wizards bought owls and owl care necessities.

  Upon entering the shop, your face lit up in excitement. A wide range of owls lined the store. Hoots and coos popped around the store as you ventured deep inside. Your eyes scanned the store as your smile never left your face. George followed after you, smiling at your child-like excitement.

  “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” He placed a hand on your shoulder.

  “Truly” You breathed out.

  “Which one’ll you be buying, then?” He asked, curious.\

  You stopped in your tracks, now thinking about the question. You looked around to take in the colourful selection of owls. One particular owl called out to you. It was tiny, and was adorned with ash-grey feathers. Its big, brown eyes stared at you, as if it were begging you to pick it up and shower it with love. Your heart melted as it hooted.

  “That one.”

  And so you walked out of Eeylops Owl Emporium with your newfound companion, a Scops owl, and George. You held its cage up to your face, admiring the beauty it held within it. The owl was now sound asleep, hooting quietly in its slumber. 

  “What’ll you name it?” George asked you with a hint of interest in his tone. 

  You looked around, in search of a possible name for it. Your eyes landed on George and felt your stomach tickle. You looked back at the owl, then back at George. A grin crept its way up to your face.

  “I’ll name it George.”

--

  It didn’t take you long before you started deploying George to send letters to George. You started off with short letters, telling the boy about how your day had gone. When Errol, George’s family’s owl, came, you were pleased to take the letter from its beak and read the contents within it. George’s handwriting was round, and big, matching his character perfectly.

  However, as the weeks went by, an unshakable feeling started to eat away at you. Each letter you received from him made the feeling more and more apparent. You couldn’t ignore it, but you continued to repress it. There was one letter from George that took you by surprise. It read,

Dear Y/N,

  How are you? Honestly, love. I miss you. When can I see you again?

  The Burrow is getting boring, and summer break is about to end. Fred’s a git, Ginny’s boring, Ron’s annoying, and don’t even get me started on Percy. I want to see you again. I want to see your sketches. As much as I love seeing George the Owl at my window with a letter written by you, I’d rather much see you in person!

  Can I see you again? Tomorrow? At the same bench we always meet up on?

Love, 

George the Handsome 

xoxo

  You were laid on your stomach as you read the letter. George had slipped some magical sweets inside the envelope, and you were savouring every bite of them. The last line of the letter surprised you. He wanted to see you, just as much as you wanted to see him. However, something inside you was screaming at you not to. The same feeling that you dreaded loomed over you again as the knot in your stomach twisted. What the bloody hell were you feeling, exactly? You’ve experienced nothing like it.

  You shot up from your body in a fit of worry as you grabbed a piece of parchment and a pen. You started scribbling your reply. Your handwriting was messy, which was unlike you. 

Dear Georgie,

  I don’t think we should see each other anymore.

Love,

Y/N

That should do it, right? All these uneasy and unexplainable feelings will finally go away once you stop seeing the boy, right? Your life will finally go back to normal; no more letters, no more owls, no more wizards. You’ll be back to your little muggle world, full of muggle people who weren’t George. No more George, no more twists and knots.

--

  The next morning, George had received your letter.

  “What the bloody hell?!” George bellowed out in shock, waking his older twin up.

  “George, bloody hell, shut yer yapping! The sun’s barely risen!” Fred groaned as he threw a pillow at his younger brother, who was hunched over on his bed with a defeated expression on his face.

  George spent the rest of his day grey and sullen. Ginny picked up on her older brother’s dispiritedness and poked him in the side, earning a small wince from him.

  “What’s got you all down and blue?” She asked, looking up at George who had a frown resting on his face.

  “Y/N doesn’t want to see me anymore.” He sighed out, resting his chin on his palm.

  “Just go see her, then. It’s that simple.” Ginny said in a matter-of-fact tone. She rolled her eyes after realising her brother was being sulky over a girl.

  George’s face lit up. Of course, it was that simple! All he had to do was walk up to you on that bench you’d be seated on, and confront you. Why didn’t he think of that? 

  “Oh Ginny, you genius!” George said, excitedly, as he was now determined to see you again.

  Without wasting another second, he bolted upstairs to get changed out of his home clothes. He changed into something more presentable before rushing out of The Burrow, ignoring Molly shouting at him, asking where he was going. His legs ran as fast as they could. He was going to see you, he was sure of it.

--

  There you were, on the bench. You were fiddling with an envelope in your hands. The night prior to this, you were up all night figuring out your feelings for the boy. Nobody in your life had made you feel queasy and on the verge of overheating. George was the first to make you feel such feelings. He was the first person to introduce you to the wizarding world, and the first person you were sure you had fallen in love with-- wait. You were in love. 

  YOU were in love. 

That’s it. That was the answer to all those moments of unease. You were in love with George Weasley, from that moment he first sat next to you on that bench in the middle of London. You fell in love with the wizard who brought you into his magical world. Did he hex you? From the moment you realised you were in love, you scrambled to your feet to write out how you felt. You poured your heart, your soul, your everything into that piece of writing, and shoved it into an envelope.

  You were brought back to the present as you noticed the sun was about to set. Fool. Why did you ever think George was going to see you again after that rushed, one-liner letter. You absolute fool. Your heart sunk as the lamp posts started to light up the streets. You shoved your letter into your pocket, tears now welling up in your eyes as they threatened to spill. You slowly stood up from the bench, sadness slowing your movements. He wasn’t going to see you anymore.

  You slowly departed from the bench that held core memories between you and George. Tears were now streaming down your face as you wiped them away every few seconds. Good bye, George Weasley, you thought. Good bye-

  “Y/N!” A voice reached out to you from the distance. It was a voice you knew all too well.

  You spun around, hope in your heart, expecting George to be running towards you, and there he was. He was sprinting to you, not giving a single care about the eyes that judged him. He was there. George was there. He came to see you.

  “Y/N, I missed you so much!” George cried out as he crashed into you, breathless as ever. He was quick to latch onto you, caging you in his tight embrace. 

  You stood there, dumbfounded, as the boy never once let go of you. The two of you stayed like that for what felt like forever, before you slowly returned the hug. It felt warm and nice. You had longed for this feeling for far too long. You cried into George’s shoulder, as you now had broken out into great sobs, your hands trembling around his waist.

  George pulled you tighter into him, rubbing your back gently. He then led you to the bench, guiding you to sit down before he sat down. He pulled your head on to his shoulder as your sobs died down to mere sniffles.

  “Why’d you write that letter?” George broke the silence. His deep eyes stared into yours.

  “I just-- I’ve been,” you paused to catch your breath, “I’ve been feeling so out of it and--”

  You stopped, remembering what was in your pocket. You were too tired to speak, and decided the letter would speak for you instead. It was risky, but you couldn’t give a care in the world anymore. You pulled the crumpled envelope out of your pocket and handed it to George. He eyed the envelope closely, with a questioning look. He looked at you, then back at the letter. He hesitated for a moment, but then found himself unhousing the letter from the confines of the envelope.

Dear Georgie,

 I’m not sure when you’ll ever read this, but God forbid you read it in my presence or I might just drop dead.

  I don’t know when this started. It all started off as a spark. It was harmless. Then, it turned into a small flame. I suppose the letters we exchanged, or perhaps that trip to Diagon Alley, fanned the flame. With each passing week, I found myself yearning for you. I was so lost, so confused. I thought you were really beautiful, and wanted to encapsulate your beauty within my sketchbook; to keep that memory for myself. I then started to realise I wanted you all for myself as you wrote those letters to me. Soon, I started to spiral. It was inappropriate for me to house such feelings for my bestfriend.

  George. I’m in love with you.

  You were my first friend, my first wizard friend, my first love.

  I thought that distancing myself from you physically would rid me of these feelings, but I was wrong.

  I’m mad for you, George Weasley, and I’m going mad just thinking about you.

  Please, don’t leave me.

  Upon reading the last line of the love letter, George’s heart fell. Were you hurting all this while, while hiding behind your beautiful, cursive handwriting? He looked up from the letter to you, who was looking at him expectantly. George took your hand in his and kissed it.

  “Y/N,” George started as his hands move their way up to your face, “I love you too,”

  In that moment, passion overcame the two of you. You smiled in relief-- like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders.  Your hands cupped his face, pulling him closer to you. Your lips grazed each other’s.

  “I’m so happy.” You whispered into his lips.

  George tilted his head, his eyes not breaking contact with yours while they were half-lidded. His hands interlaced with your hair and pulled your lips closer to his. Sparks. Absolute sparks. You closed your eyes, melting into the moment of bliss. The world was yours and George’s for a split second. Soon, your hands were entangled in his hair, massaging his scalp. His scent of vanilla and nutmeg sent you into overdrive, emboldening you to deepen the passion of the kiss. However, you forgot that breathing was essential. Soon, the two of you pulled away from each other as you gasped for air. The both of you were flushed. After all, that was your first kiss. You made sure to add that to your list of your firsts with George.

  “Love,” George looked into your eyes, “I’m not going anywhere.”

--

[GIFs not by me]

[thepatchycat]

Hi, I’m a real new shiny here (on Tumblr, but also at drawing), and it’s the first time I ask anything, so I hope it’s ok. I must say first that I love the way you draw TCW characters (especially the clones)! 😍 I just came across this sketch you made on canvas (if I remember correctly) https://www.tumblr.com/thepatchycat/729224397978828800 and I was wondering, if you don’t mind sharing, how do you get the perfect white background on non-digital drawings? I currently use a scanner app on my sketches and the results are always inconsistent and far from that white… thanks a lot in advance!! 😊

Welcome to the Tumblr crew, shiny! ;) And thank you kindly!

So my dirty secret for that sketch is... it actually is completely digital! I drew it in a program called Rebelle 5, which is designed to mimic traditional canvas/paper and pencils/paints. I picked it up for super cheap during a huge sale last year, and it's a lot of fun; unfortunately, it's usually pretty expensive, as many art programs are. I highly recommend keeping an eye out for sales though if you ever get into digital drawing--and if you'd like a free program, the one I use most of the time is MediBang. But those programs are really mostly helpful for digital art, not so much for scanning actual pencil sketches.

While I tend to stick to digital drawing nowadays, I definitely feel you on the scan cleanliness issue; phone pictures and even proper printer scans tend to end up either kind of dirty or faded. The short answer is that I don't actually have an easy and effective solution, but there might be some things you can try depending on what you have available. I wouldn't be surprised if you've already explored more methods than I have, and there are definitely people with better ideas and more experience than me, but I'll share what I've tried.

Long(er)-winded rambling under the cut!

So, I currently have an unfinished piece sitting in my files that began as a traditional drawing, one that I want to keep all the pencil details for. Here's the sketchbook page, scanned using a household printer:

Not terrible, but it'd be nice to have clearer contrast between the lines and the background. In MediBang, I can adjust the contrast by going to Filter>Levels (or Ctrl+L), which gives me a little box that looks like this:

I don't technically know the nitty gritty of how it works, but by my understanding, the outer triangles for the input and output indicate the range boundaries. Adjusting the input--particularly the darker boundary--so that the output boundary exceeds it basically tells the program to make the darker parts even darker, resulting in this:

Better! As you can see, though, the darker parts of the background also show up a bit more. Rather than relying only on contrast adjustments, what I actually ended up doing was carefully erasing the background around the drawing after adding a plain white layer underneath, and also going over some of the lines digitally. I did this first in MediBang (the only art program I had when I started working on it), then transferred the file over to Rebelle.

MediBang (left) has the pure white background, while the Rebelle (right) canvas settings I chose are a little off-white and more textured, which I think blends a bit better with the texture and shading of the image. It's possible to add textures and the like in MediBang, too, but Rebelle has it built into its design, so it's a little easier to figure out there; I'll likely finish this piece in Rebelle (whenever I get back to doing so, haha), since the canvas and brush settings will be easier to match to the texture of everything that came directly from the drawing.

Most of this is much easier to do with a drawing tablet/pen, unless you're a wizard with a mouse. As for traditional means... the best suggestion I can come up with is to try inking sketches, or at least darkening them further with a pencil. The more contrast you can get between your lines and the background, the more easily you can digitally tease that contrast out even further. I think most photo editors have at least some contrast, color, and brightness adjusters, and probably more useful functions I don't even know about--it never hurts to mess around with any program's filters and settings to see what happens!

Good luck, and happy drawing! :D

[pomsnchi]

#21daysofproductivity

an old John Singer Sargent master study I did in my sketchbook + some dark chocolate pecan cookies

Sargent has such an appreciation for the human form in all of his work, plus his pencil/charcoal sketches use such simple but intentional strokes to indicate weight and value, it’s incredible. I should do more studies to practice his technique.

today I just caught up on some class videos and notes while the storm kept everyone inside. my main to-do down below for this week:

finish the reading for this week

essentials of realism lesson 3 assignment

finish up the piece for my SYJ assignment

drawing fundamentals study + scan

watch all my feedback videos for each assignment

[corpsoir]

Feel better soon! I'd love to hear a bit about your approach to using graphite/traditional media -- are there major differences for you compared to how you tackle a digital project?

thank you!!

and yeah so. i think the way i think about traditional vs digital is pretty similar, except when it comes to digital im way more messy and can fuck around more since i have ctrl+z lol i dont actually use graphite that much except for my super messy shitty scribbles i make just for fun. i used to draw a lot with graphite but i find both it and coal to be too messy and dull for my taste

whenever i draw traditionally i sketch with a blue and/or red pencil first (not a regular colour pencil, i buy pencil leads in different colours that are "meant" for sketching, theyre really pale and wont show up if you scan it and will not be as visible under your finished ink lines and stuff) and then i usually plan out in my head where im putting my lines and shapes, if that makes sense?? im way more confident with my digital art since i can make more mistakes and fix things afterwards, traditional art often takes me longer to make and therefore i get bored of it lol

with my traditional art i plan it out way more than my digital art, i think thats the major difference, i dont want to waste material!

most of my traditional art nowadays are just messy sketches in my sketchbooks meant for me to try out new things or scribble down ideas for later! but heres a quick scribble of lovart i made earlier :) i like using unipin fineliners and copic markers, usually i just use one colour but i used to make entire paintings with them. sorry the photos are kinda shitty, its dark here lol

[nihiltism]

since ive been too College to have enough art for any sort of summary im just gonna put a general year end rundown of what i feel i did best on this year!!

i think every year since i figured out that i dont need to use pens to line has just gotten better art wise for me. FUCK lining. pencils are my best friends forever and ever and can do your job better than you ever could. anyway apologies for some of these drawings being crunchier than others, i only recently got a scanner and Cannot be assed to scan my old art for this post rn.

also the first art here is a hatoful boyfriend spoiler. i mean i guess the last one is too but its vaguer i think. anyway. none of these are actually analyses of what i learned with each art im just braining

april 5th-

you guys know this one i REALLY like it. why in the goddamn were my best pieces this year hatoful boyfriend. anyway i uh. hey did you know that i didnt do the notgeki with graphite because i like mixed media. i did it because i have not owned a grey pencil for my some-teen years of drawing ever. i only JUST got a grey pencil like. a couple months ago. i mean im good with graphite i would have done it like that anyway but. yeah. anyway this was abt the height of my beginning hatoful fix and Also indirectly what got me to meet like a bunch of my mutuals here!! i did. not know there was a hatoful community. and because That i actually started using tumblr so!! hey thanks hitori. i need to do more birdform art.

april 15th -

this motherfucker! ill be. completely honest i dont have a lot of feedback for a lot of my graphite art bc ive Been doing this. ok actually yknow what i will say. there is a limit for how dark something can be with graphite and i Very much remember going over the inside of the cloak So Much. this was my pet project during my weekly 3 hour long lecture so god bless it. also i do still like how i did the eye. can i draw eye guys exclusively please.

july 3rd -

not really Art im proud of but!! holy shit i dont design often and i dont hate this!! this is at least in part thanks to my gf. my gf knows how to clothes better than i do so i did ask them for help. also i really need to scan this one. or maybe draw her a new ref. anyway (holds up celine) look at her. look at the silly.

september 6th -

this one was a trade for my friend raicatty and. also something i probably should have scanned. but its fine. anyway this one did teach me something and its To Line Your Damn Pieces Darker. lining with the color that youre going to be coloring in is kind of Asking For Disaster if it overlaps with others and u can. see that. this is a bit imparseable. but its also pretty. and thats all that really matters. a fun fact for when i ever do commissions is that being allowed to use this purpley pink pencil i have will make me really happy. its so pretty.

OERSHRIMP INTERLUDE

OERSHRIMP INTERLUDE

november 13 -

forgive me for including a sketch in this but YOU DONT UNDERSTAND IVE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO DRAW HUMANS. like. NEVER. much less in an actual decent pose. (god bless adorkastock) im So very delighted by this oboromaru and hes!! like!! one of my least favorite characters!! (not to say i dislike him hes just lower). i dont know what happened here!! if this wasnt at the very back of my Sketchbook I Just Put Away Because It Was Falling Apart id say id finish this one later. rip. he and that dark daroach sketch i had there can just vibe i guess.

aaand the big one. december 8th -

things i learned from this one! 1. the scanner did not pick up the red lines very well! 2. scanners are good! 3: NEVER do a full page project again! buuut i do want to say i am like. insanely proud of this one. its the first art ive done i can really say has any sort of Composition and im so delighted that it turned out just as cool as it looked in my head. also this took forever and i could have easily messed it up Multiple times in the process. so god bless.

[artvinyl]

Uncovered: Doseone - Enter the Gungeon

In its 18th year, Best Art Vinyl 2022 sees the first shortlisted album artwork for a video game with this Anniversary Deluxe Edition, pop-up gatefold sleeve art by Joseph Harmon. We couldn’t miss the opportunity to find out more and were lucky enough to have a quick chat with Joseph.

How did you come to work on this project? I worked on a few projects with the sound designer and composer for the game Enter the Gungeon, Adam Drucker (music artist alias Doseone), and he asked me if I would be interested in taking it on.

What was the initial brief and how did you start to approach the artwork? Everyone really trusted me and gave me the freedom and time to approach it the way I thought would be best. I would send early sketches focusing on the design and placement of things, knowing that the drawing was really bad and that it made more sense in my head. They trusted that it was going to shape up, and that means a lot.

The pop up element was intimidating and exciting because I had no idea how that worked. Once I got more familiar with the game I realized how deep it was. There were so many side quests, bosses, and characters. I felt the best way to approach the artwork was to try and make it really full and deep like the game.

Were there early versions that did not make the final cut? Actually, the initial version was more complex with the pop up. A lot more pieces that would have been a nightmare to produce, and never having taken on a pop up before I didn't know exactly what I was doing. In the end a simpler approach was the way to go.

How did you create the pop-up effect and what medium and tools do you use? I would draw things by hand on posterboard and cut them out and piece them together with scotch tape for the mock up. I had to measure everything and make sure they wouldn't be larger than the vinyl record when folded. I also had to make sure there weren't too many pieces stacked on top of each other so it would stay closed properly. Once that was figured out, I would scan the pieces and work on the finished art digitally. Everything usually starts in my sketchbook with a pencil. Then it gets scanned and cleaned up digitally. Even if it's going to be a painting, I usually have a sketch that I work out the size and colours digitally. Pencil, Photoshop, and acrylic paint are probably the materials I use the most.

What were your creative influences? Growing up I loved the box art for a lot of regular Nintendo games. I would rent them based on how weird the box art was. When you play the game, it would be nothing like that, but the box art would stick with me. It was the same with records. There was a Wings record my parents had, Red Rose Speedway, that would scare me based on the cover. It had a close up of Paul McCartney with a rose in his mouth and he looked freaked out, I think there was a motorcycle behind him. It still makes me uncomfortable to this day. I guess Wings and Nintendo inspired me for this.

Paul McCartney and Wings - Red Rose Speedway. Cover photography by Linda McCartney.

Enter the Gungeon by Doseone on Laced Records is shortlisted for the Best Art Vinyl 2022 Award. Artwork by Joseph Harmon. VOTING OPEN UNTIL 12 DEC 2022

[sysig]

what's your favorite part about making art?

Getting it out of my head (lol)

To give a more complete answer haha, each step has its own charm! Sketching is nice to have it Out of me, alleviates the itch of having a Thought or Feeling that just needs to be Out and onto paper already

If I'm drawing digitally, lining has gotten rather meditative, or if my sketches are particularly scribbly then it's like a puzzle haha

Toning on paper is a fun exercise in tool usage - I have specific pencils I switch back and forth between to get The Effect I'm looking for, or filling in with the same pencil for the whole piece is nice to just have it done all at once, it's satisfying both ways

Editing has kinda fallen by the wayside for me lately (as evidenced by my lack of uploads - I keep wanting to share, but there's a stopper in my brain that says "No, they're Not Done!" which is like......half correct? It's done when I say it's done, but they haven't been edited "properly" so) but it also has its good points! It took a bit to find the fun again because editing is definitely Not my favourite part of the process - it's not Creative or Exciting or Expressive in the same way as the other steps but it is something I can do for my art that makes it appear how my hand, eye, and brain want it to - my hand is messy, my eye is very particular, and my brain parses between the two, takes away the lines that muddle the final image until there's only The Picture left :) And sometimes it's all I have the energy for! Sometimes all I can do is take my backlog and make it pretty rather than make something new - but it's still Making Art :)

The only part I really don't like is scanning lol, it's just annoying, why can't my pictures be uploaded in perfect quality directly from my sketchbook to my computer haha

And most of this is to do with drawing since it's still my main art form, but a lot of the same applies to writing and papercraft and whatever else I try my hand at - it's nice to Have and Do and see where it gets me :)

I'm doing well! I've been writing more than - ever? I think? I think this is officially my up-to-now peak of Finished Writing by wordcount and time spent on it lol, it's been very fun!! And also a little overwhelming haha I still haven't quite found a New Normal about it, it being The Most haha, but I want to work towards that balance! More practice means more time to implement it so lol

[breathe-2am]

Finished drawing a comic and wanted to scan it, but i dont have a scanner, so i went to staples and scanned it. It was completely blown out, like full white page w the faintest imprints of the darkest sketch bits, so i was like huh weird i must have used the wrong settings. Scanned it five more times, nothing worked, eventually said fuck maybe its the sketchbook thickness throwing off the exposure so i ripped out the page and even that didnt help at all. I asked the employee and she was like yea our scanners r for documents not pencil, id recommend taking a picture on ur phone.

So......

Just spent five dollars, ripped a nice page out of my sketchbook, and got told the better option is using my phone- the exact thing i didnt think looked very good and the reason i went to scan it in the first place.

EDIT: its postedddddd hell yea check it out i have trialed and tribulated for it

[bokosbiscuits]

SUMMARY OF TWO PIECES

Piece 1: Digital Painting   

This piece of artwork was created for the FMP of my first year in my Level 3

Graphic Design course. The theme for my FMP was: SIB (Self-Initiated Brief)

Meaning that there was no set theme for this project, I chose my own. I chose

To base my project on the subject of: People. To work with this theme,

I researched human anatomy (and how to stylize it) as well as different poses,

Body types, and artists whose work focused on people.

To create this piece, I first started with sketching thumbnails and ideas into

my sketchbook, toying with many different poses, ranging between simple

and complicated, trying to see what fit the style I wanted to work with.

(Basing my style on the artist known as FeeFal, who I researched heavily.)

After finding an idea I liked the feel of, I scanned the sketch onto my

Computer. To illustrate my piece, I used a digital programme known as

KRITA, which I have used for years now. After playing around with colour

Palettes for a while, I settled on a blue and purple based colour scheme, using a white to highlight my focal point. To create my background, I collected a collage of my friend’s eyes, combined them and overlayed them with a brown colour, before adding it to my background and finishing my piece!

These pages were created as research for my SIB. To make my pages look

Interesting and put together, Included the Brief for our project (what was needed to Successfully create pages leading up to Final works.) My method for my Pages was to write out my proposal, which described what I wanted to achieve in my project.) I then sketched out some Relevant images (using references) and then coloured these sketches using

Watercolour paints and Crayola Colouring Pencils. As I am not normally a realistic artist, I attempted to combine both a realistic style with my own personal style, which created a page spread that I came to be very proud of.

[sleepinglionhearts]

Yeah I think this'll be the piece that makes me learn to color digitally u__u

[nctsworld]

sketches

✩‌ renjun ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ tutor!renjun | college au | fluff | ‌1k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ in which your art tutor gathers up the courage to ask you out. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ an almost-kiss, hyuck is a kissblocker, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ teen+ FOR ⇾‌ anonymous

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾‌ yeah im taking 20 years to finish my bday celebration, no one look at me pls n ty

Sitting at the top of a grassy hill that overlooks much of campus, you embrace the light spring breeze and warm sun as you sketch the scenery in front of you. 

Beside you, your art tutor—donning his thin-framed glasses, a loose white t-shirt, and light blue ankle jeans—is also sketching, albeit clutching his book tightly towards his chest, as he always does.

Today’s the last day of his tutoring since the semester is ending soon. On the upside, Renjun’s been a great help over the last few months and you’ve improved immensely. On the flipside, your success signified that you didn’t need him anymore.

But if you could be honest, you didn’t want sessions to end for more selfish reasons. To be in his comfortable presence, to be able to laugh with him, to be graced with his beauty...

You don’t know Renjun too well, but you yearn to.

Unfortunately, you don’t have any other reason to see Renjun outside of tutoring. He is nearing his graduation, while you’re in your second year. If you didn’t decide to minor in Art the last minute, you wouldn’t have met him in the first place.

Well, the best thing you could do is simply savour the time you have with him now.

“What are you sketching today?” you ask casually, like you often do.

And he answers nonchalantly, as he often does:

“The usual, you know”—he shrugs—“whatever I find beautiful.”

You’re too focused on your sketchbook to notice him quickly glancing over at you, smiling to himself. His eyes fall back onto his artwork. “How are you doing?”

You pause and squint at your work so far. “Something’s off... I think it’s my shading?”

Your tutor carefully shuts his sketchbook and places it face down onto the grass before he moves closer towards you. For a few moments, Renjun scans your work that’s leaning against your thighs with a cute tilt of his head.

“May I?” he asks, holding out his hand.

Instinctively, you gesture your pencil for him to draw onto your work. Instead, to your surprise, his hand wraps around the back of yours. Without a word, he shades in a handful of areas darker and defines some of the lines more. 

As he does so, you hold your breath. Although you can’t look at him, your eyes still waver; you’re completely unable to focus on your art at hand.

When he’s finished, you hear a small gulp. Peering over your shoulder, you note how Renjun’s blatantly avoiding eye contact.

“Do you think it looks better now?” he squeaks in a whisper. 

It takes a bit, but his luminous eyes ultimately meet with yours—the same pair that you’ve constantly get lost in when he speaks, and it’s no different this time around. 

The wind blows slightly stronger against your back, giving you the push to inch nearer. While your eyes flutter to a close, you swear you see his form and kissable lips approach you too.

“Renjun!” A sudden voice calls out nearby.

Simultaneously, you both pull back and face the source of the shout, who is currently waving frantically. The stranger steps closer and stands on a lower angle of the hill.

“Oh, shit.” The young man brings a fist to his mouth, then whispers, “Am I interrupting?”

Your gorgeous tutor shuffles away from you, but still sits in your proximity. He runs his fingers through his hair.

“Not at all, Hyuck,” he replies behind a forced smile, pushing his glasses up. “What’s up?”

Renjun’s presumed friend shrugs, sinking his fists into the pockets of his trackpants. “Nothing, just wanted to say hi.” He faces your direction and gives you a small wave. “Hi, I’m Donghyuck.”

You flash him the same and introduce yourself. “Nice to meet you, Donghyuck.”

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Donghyuck admits. He points a thumb at your tutor. “He talks a lot about you. He says you’re so amazing and so beau-”

“Okay!” Renjun suddenly cuts him off, rushing to stand up and hurries over to his friend, already pushing him away. “Time to get going, you’re officially interrupting.”

You giggle as Donghyuck groans in disagreement, but not forgetting to yell a good-bye at you.

The sun dips deeper into the horizon, but not quite fully, when the tutoring is officially over. After you two pack your things up and you give him your final thank you’s for being your tutor, there’s a long beat before Renjun speaks up.

“Since this is our last session...” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did you wanna hang out with me sometime?”

Renjun cautiously looks up, fearful to see how you’re looking at him. He’s ecstatic to witness you beaming back at him, as bright as the yellow and orange hues glowing around you.

“Like a date?” you ask curiously.

“It doesn’t have to be a date, we could just hang out.”

With a smirk, you challenge playfully, “So, you’re saying you don’t want to date me?”

“No, no!” he half-shouts in clarification. He coughs, lowering his voice. “I mean, I’m down to go on a date, if you’re down to, but it’s also fine if we just hang out as—”

His eyebrows perk up as you abruptly kiss his cheek in a soft peck, resting your fingers on his shoulder.

Retreating back in front of the now jaw dangling man, you proclaim, “I’d love to go out with you, Renjun.”

He blinks himself back to reality, stammering, “Yeah?”

“Text me,” you say, nodding and beginning to walk away, “and we’ll figure it out, okay?”

In disbelief, Renjun is glued to the top of the hill with a huge grin on his face. He watches you from behind for a few seconds until he grips onto one of the straps of his backpack and wills himself to leave in the opposite direction.

“Renjun!” you holler from almost the bottom of the hill. He turns back around to catch you smiling still.

“Maybe when we go out, you can share some of the sketches you’re always drawing of me?”

It doesn’t take long for his whole face to heat up. Embarrassed, he rubs one side of his face and nods shyly with his mouth pouting to one side.

[sevendeadlymorons]

hello! can i request for the brother and undateables (if you don’t want simeon is just okay) headcanons for seeing mc sketches book and mc drew some positions with them? thank you! (sorry if i bothered you and my english is not will)

Sorry for the delay in writing your request, i really like this idea and I will get right on it for you :)

You absolutely did not bother me whatsoever and your English was great btw x

Brothers + Undateables Reaction to Seeing MC’s Sketchbook

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Lucifer

Saw it lying on your desk when he came in to clean your room

He was never one to pry but he eventually found himself flicking through the pages of the book

Each page was filled with sketches of flowers or scenery or the cats that wander outside the house

He was so intrigued by these intricate drawings of yours, finding himself rather impressed by the skill you had

Around about the end, he notices sketches of his brothers, each in particular poses, drawn in such beautiful detail

He smiles to himself as he continues to flick through multiple pages of Asmo, not really surprised that he’s the main model of your drawings

That’s when he came across one of him

It was him sitting down in his study, enjoying the sound of one of his records. He didn’t even know you drew him.

It looked so real, like it was a photo. The way the shading was so perfect and how you drew his small smile so delicately. Incredible.

He was so taken back, he had to see more

Walks past you in the corridor with your sketchbook behind his back

I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if he borrowed it for a little while

Mammon

Bust into your room to tell you about this massive loss he had gambling again but you weren’t there

He looked around but all he could find was a singular book lay open on your bed

One peek couldn’t hurt, he thought, already flicking through the contents of the book

His eyes widen as he saw more and more of your art, each drawing so filled with detail

Since when was his human so talented, and when were they planning on telling him?

He kept flicking through until he saw his brothers in several different poses

He felt kind of hurt that you’d never asked him to model for you before

Each page that went by, the more impressed he was

This has gotta be worth a lot with how incredible these drawings are

Suddenly, he reached one of him. He was surprised since you’ve never asked him to model for you so when did you draw this?

It was him smiling while counting his money in his room. He didn’t want to know how you got this to be honest

But he was amazed by the detail put in. The amount of time you must have put into this makes his cheeks blush like crazy at the thought of you drawing something so time consuming for him

He ran out, notebook to chest, flicking through the pages with a goofy smile on his face in his room

Leviathan

Didn’t mean to snoop, just casually found it open on your desk so how could he resist...

His jaw dropped as he flicked through, admiring the never ending sketches of scenery or animals

Literally woooaaahhh’s in his head after looking at each drawing

Gets to his brothers drawings and he’s amazed

You can draw realistic too??!

His mind is running wild at the thought of you drawing all his favourite anime characters

Wonders if there’s any of him but he can’t remember you asking him to pose for any so he gets sorta upset

Who’d want to draw a yucky otaku like him anyway

Continues to flick through, still trying to get over how good the one before was until he sees the one on the next page and he’s starting all over again

In complete awe at how incredible they all were, each detail perfect and the facial features were sharp and precise every single time

Onto the next page and he felt his heart beat out of his chest. No way, could it be...

It was a drawing of him, focused on his game with this concentrated look on his face. When did you even draw that?! He feels his entire face burning up as he stares at himself. You drew him so well...

Clutches the book to his chest, very very close to tears, and runs off to find you to ask you to draw him and Ruri-Chan

Satan

Walks past and sees you drawing in this little book so peeps over your shoulder to see what you were doing

He’s overcome with surprise as he stares at your beautiful drawing of the flower that was sitting on the table in front of you

He crosses his arms on top of your head and laughs as you jump out of your seat, holding the notebook tightly to your chest

He apologise for snooping but tells you how incredible he thinks your art is, watching your face closely as it turns red

He asks if he can see more as your current drawing had intrigued him, and held out his hand to you

You hesitate but happily hand it over, sitting back down and patting the seat next to you

You watch as he flicks through, his eyebrows raising every few times, then looking over and flashing you a smile

Why didn’t he know about this? These drawings were incredible

He especially liked the drawings of the stray cats outside, as his face lit up, pointing and telling you the names of the ones you drew

When he got to his brothers, he couldn’t help but be massively impressive at the intricate detail you put into them as well as the unique poses you put them in to

He doesn’t remember you asking him to pose for anything but he continues to flick through, hopeful

As he flick the page, he comes face to face with a drawing of him. His eyes widen as he scans over the drawing of him holding a book between his fingers as his face looking tranquil and calm.

He looks over at you who had a nervous face, obviously trying to figure out if he liked it or not, to which he smiles widely and tells you he’ll be borrowing it as he’d really like to see more

Asmodeus

You left a book in his room after he’d finished paining your nails

He went to go return it to you when he felt the sudden urge to take a peek inside before hand

Maybe it’s something erotic, he thinks, as he begins to open the book on his bed

When he first sees your drawings, it’s so much better than anything erotic he’s ever seen

His lips twist into a sweet smile as he flicks through the book, his hand resting on his chin, making small humming noises every few seconds

He never knew you were an artist!

The drawings of his brothers were beautiful and he felt sorta jealous that he hasn’t seen a single one of him yet

He desperately turned page after page, searching for drawings of him

At the final page, he finally saw himself. He was speechless as he stares at the incredibly drawn masterpiece of him.

It was of him sitting sweetly on the couch, looking at his freshly paint nails with delight, the drawing perfectly capturing the mood of the moment

He squeals as he hugs the book to his chest as if it was his prized possession

He goes running after you to ask if he could model for more of your art as it was love at first sight

Beelzebub

On his daily snoop around in your room for snacks when he saw a small notebook on your desk

He didn’t want to invade your privacy but he was just too tempted, one peek wouldn’t hurt

He opened it and was greeted by your incredible art. He stopped eating and stared at it, completely in shock at how good they were

He kept flicking through all your little quick draws. Flowers, animals and food. He especially liked those ones

When he came across his brothers, all in these complex poses, he smiled wide and began flicking through to find him, quite excited to see what you drew for him

He went past Belphie’s and a sweet smile spread across his face as he imagined you trying to keep him awake so you could draw him

He kept flipping through but there was still no sign of him. He felt sorta left out at that thought but kept on going through hopefully

Finally, on the very last page, was a drawing of him. It wasn’t like any of his brothers tho, it was him completely in his zone

He had a burger in his hand and was going in to bite down on it, a grin plastered on his lips as the perfect detail showed joy in his eyes

He stares on, wide eyed. This was amazing. He wanted to keep it and store it somewhere so he could look at it forever

Picks up the book to go find you, wandering around like an excited puppy

He was going to give you the biggest hug you’ve ever experienced

Belphegor

Was asleep on the sofa opposite you when the sound of a pencil sketching on a piece of paper woke him up, so he opens his eyes and begins to sit up, rubbing his eyes and looking towards where the sound was coming from

Immediately sees you drawing away into a book, to which he raises his eyebrow and walks behinds you to take a peek

You didn’t seem to notice him getting up as you were completely focused on your sketch so he looks over your shoulder to see a sketch of... him.

Were you just drawing him sleeping?

Thought it was sorta cute actually

He admired how you delicately put in extra minor details that made the drawing look so realistic to him

He couldn’t take his eyes off it, your drawing was incredible

And you drew him lookin good too

You felt something tickle your neck so you turned around quickly to see Belphie peering over your shoulder, staring straight at your art, a big smile plastered on his smug face

Your face burns up in embarrassment as you realise he saw you drawing him sleeping but he just responds with a small laugh and a pat on the head as he jumps over the couch to sit next to you, offering out his hand in a way of saying “let me see”

He flicks through all your nature sketches and the ones of him and Beel, not really bothering about his other brothers, a persistent smile on his lips and a hand glued to your thigh

He was impressed, but surprised he never knew. He really wanted to take it so he could look at it more

So he did just that. Stood up, sketchbook in hand, straight towards the attic to binge through every single drawing in there

Diavolo

You came over to him and asked him to hold your book while you went to go do something, to which he agreed and carried on with his work

He kept eying it on the desk next to him. He’s never been one to snoop, but he couldn’t help but look at it

He flicked through the pages, each one filled to the brim with sketches, doodles and beautiful portraits

He couldn’t believe his eyes, you drew these?

The artwork was captivating, so stunning and detailed with each one he flipped through

He chose well when he picked you to be his exchange student, so talented

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of you putting the brothers into these poses and making them sit still for hours while you drew them

He found that a smile appeared on his face as he looked at all the antics the brothers get into which you skilfully drew to savour the moment

That’s when he found himself. Sat graciously on his throne with a huge grin on his face. The detail so incredible it looked almost real. His jaw dropping slightly at the mere sight of it

When was this drawn?

But he didn’t care, he was smiling giddily at it. Honoured you’d spend your personal time drawing him

He knows who his next royal artist is going to be

Barbatos

Diavolo had a little party organised for you and the brothers and when he saw you enter with a book lodged under your arm, he was rather intrigued

Watches as you walk out mid way through the event to an empty room, book still in hand, and so he decides to follow you in case you wanted company

Walks in to see you, pencil in hand, scribbling away at the book

He sits next to you and you jump, startled at his sudden presence

He asks what it is you’re doing and stares down at your open book, watching his eyebrows raise in surprise at your art work

Your face flushes pink as he offers out his hand, asking to see more. You nod and hand it over to him, watching him flick through the pages

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Your art was excellent and so detailed. Even the small sketches were near perfection

He looks over at you and flashes you a small genuine smile of delight

When he sees the drawings of the brothers, he chuckles and compliments you on how well drawn they are

When he turned the next page, he didn’t expect to see himself though

He was sat cross legged with a cup of tea in his fingers, his face visibly delighted

He clears his throat in surprise, hiding the obvious grin on his lips, and hands it back to you, giving you a small pat on the shoulder as he exits the room

He was amazed. He’ll be mentioning this to Diavolo for sure

Simeon

You honestly come to the angel whenever you need peace from the brothers, so he’s seen you sketching away in that little pad of yours several times, but never actually seen what’s inside of it

One day, you got up to go get something and asked him to look after the book for you, to which he nodded and held the book in his lap

Now... Simeon never snoops, but looking down at your sketchbook, curiosity took over him

He opened it and lay it on his lap, staring down at the multiple little drawings you had scattered on one page

He smiles and turns to the next page, once again greeted by more of your amazing drawings of cats, birds, trees, followers and the House of Lamentation

He keeps turning the page, drawing after drawing, each one seemingly getting better than the last

When he saw the little drawing of Luke he couldn’t help but chuckle at how sweet he looked. He’d have to ask you if he could keep it later

Then he saw the brothers and he admired how well you drew them all, each detail drawn to perfection. He most enjoyed their demon forms and how beautiful they all looked

As soon as he flicked to a drawing of him, he stopped in his tracks, staring down at your sketch in disbelief

He didn’t care too much about when you drew it, all he cared about was how astonishing you made him look

He was stood with his hand on his hip, a small smile displayed on his face as his cloak carefully draped around his arms

He put the book back before you re-entered the room. He’ll ask you if he could take another look later

Solomon

Couldn’t help but notice you sketching something in class, since you share a lot of them together and it happens almost every lesson

He doesn’t really care at first but when he finds it laying on the table after you’d forgotten it, he couldn’t help but look

First couple of pages were filled with small sketches and he was pretty impressed. He does a bit of doodling and draws his summoning circles himself so looking at your art was pretty intriguing to him

When he sees the drawing of the brothers, he realises you’ve actually got a hell of a talent for drawing

He decides to go find you and return it, but he’ll keep flicking through as he walks, because he’d really like to see more

As he’s walking and flicking through, a smile begins to form on his face as he sees sketches of Luke and Simeon having a tea party together, something he knew went on weekly with the 3 of you

He stops walking as he stumbles across something he never expected to see

It was him, practising his spells with a focused look on his face

He has absolutely no clue when you drew you and honestly, slightly creeped out

Ignores it though since the drawing of him came out pretty good and the details you put on his face were incredibly done. He felt himself blush slightly at the fact you actually took the time to draw him

Eventually found you and yelled out your name, waving the sketchbook in his hand as he watched you rush over, your cheeks burning red as you cover your face. He smiles sweetly as he walks off

This guy couldn’t get any more sketchy even if he tried

Luke

Simeon needed to talk to Lucifer, so he brought Luke along since he was bored. He started wandered the house when those two began talking about things he didn’t understand.

He reaches your room and knocks on the door, but there was no answer, so he let himself in

Kid can’t keep his hands to himself, he’s touchin everything he sees. So when he sees a book on your desk, he can’t help himself

Sits on your bed and opens it, his eyes widening as he’s greeted by several incredible sketches

He’s having the time of his life flicking through them all, going through flower after flower, the stray cats he sees outside the house and of course, the demons

He thought all the drawings were the coolest things he’s ever seen in his life

He had to show Simeon

He was about to go running to show him when one of them caught his eye. It was a drawing of him?

He was stood on a stool baking his cakes. The intricate details standing out, making him gawk in awe. He didn’t know when you drew this, but he didn’t care. You made him look amazing

The drawing of him made his eyes tear up, he was so so happy that you drew him

Wiped his eyes and clung to the book, running into the room where Simeon was so he could show him your beautiful drawings too

This was so damn fun to write, but fuck did it take days to do :,)