#water colors are IN colored pencils are OUT

[t-tomuras]

Honestly a little gift for the sweetest person I’ve ever met @pastelle-rabbit

photographer Keigo Takami x Artist!reader. Fluff tbh, first meeting. 1.1k

It was easy for Keigo to find the beauty in everything, to capture it in stills nearly wherever he went. Oftentimes pausing mid stride while glancing about regardless of bodies around him on a bustling street just to capture the exact angle of whatever had caught his eye in the moment.

Sometimes it’s life in the strangest of places, like a bird's nest quaintly made in the sign of a fast food restaurant. Other times it was just the way the light of something had struck him or an object in his view. Camera roll, SD card, a full terabyte drive at his dorm on campus brimming with new locations or familiar areas shot differently.

Even strings of twine now extend from one side of his dorm wall to the other and cork boards begin to fill with Polaroid photos to capture feelings of nostalgia for the city he’s grown up in.

He favors that new camera now, uses it for his more personal photos rather than for class submissions.

But everything was beautiful to Keigo, taking life slowly and demonstrating it with life’s little joys.

Capturing his hardly nutritious breakfast of a canned black coffee and a cinnamon streusel muffin on a rainy day. Shaking the freshly printed photo from his Fujifilm Instax Mini out of habit alone while he sips at his drink.

Later, for lunch, a warm panini in his hand while it lounges next to the fountain in the middle of the quarry because he’d hoped the afternoon sun would glisten off the rippling water enchantingly.

Instead he gets a new sort of beauty, one unrivaled by anything he’d ever seen before.

A beauty like you, that sits in the shade of the biggest tree on the common ground, decorated in scattering sun beams that slip through the leaves. It paints you better than any of the art majors that practice with live models could ever dream of. It leaves him overtly awestruck and you’re merely enthralled with your sketchpad, bringing your knees higher to give yourself a bit more leverage to draw with ease.

Keigo assumes so, anyway, after watching your elbow move as your hand swipes across the page before you curl a bit closer to yourself. Involuntarily swallowing thickly, amber hues darting down to the purse of your lips as you blow away the eraser shavings followed by expertly flipping your pencil around to try again.

He has to manually shake his head to pull him from his stupor, gaze flitting about to see if anyone else had noticed what he had but of course they hadn’t.

Nobody ever notices as much as Keigo or the things he found captivating, but this time he’s a little grateful for it. Pulling up his camera and holding it up to his right eye while he closes the other. Pausing long enough for the lens to focus before it shutters as he clicks the button to capture your moment permanently.

The camera whirs then spits out the picture a moment later, colors slowly bleeding to the appropriate ones as the photo develops itself.

It pales in comparison, something Keigo rarely thinks whenever he’s chosen to capture a moment but he doubted anything could truly do your beauty justice.

He debates for a moment after, looking for the photo to you and back again before deciding he should give it to you instead of keeping it. Folding the paper wrapping back over his panini and tucking it into his cross shoulder bag before making his way to you. Crossing the distance easily and comping to a stop just a few feet in front of you so as not to be opposing.

“Hey,” he greets breezily, combing his fingers through sandy blond locks to pin them backwards, away from his face as he leans a bit forward. Bringing his hand from behind his back with the polaroid to hold out in front of him now, offering it to you as the other rubs sheepishly at the nape of his neck, “hope you don’t mind but, the light caught you perfectly so I took a picture.”

Even on a campus full of art majors of all different sorts, that statement still sounded creepy from a complete stranger. He coughs into his closed fist, crouching down to your level so maybe it feels a little less awkward but still he holds the photo out to you.

You look from the photo to his eyes and back again, setting your pencil down and carefully pinching the white segment of the picture to take it.

“It’s the only one,” Keigo adds for your comfort, lifting his instant printer camera with the strap slung around his shoulder.

“Thank you,” you finally speak and Keigo’s shoulders slacken. Thick brows furrowing appreciatively as the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of his lips. Of course you sounded as lovely as you looked. “Are you sure I can keep it? This isn’t for an assignment?”

He chuckles at that, leans back on his haunches as he scratches gingerly at his stubbled chin, “no it’s not for an assignment. Wouldn’t be fair to turn in a masterpiece like that, I’ve gotta give everyone else a fighting chance.”

The sound of your giggle bids his heart to race, lips parting a bit and his eyes widen. He really doesn’t think he’s heard anything quite so whimsical in his life and Keigo loved to sit in town squares to listen to street performers.

A silence falls for a bit, nothing but the partially inaudible conversations of passersby or others that linger in the square and the sounds of you turning pages in your sketchbook before you close it. It looks like you’re getting ready to leave, packing away your supplies and gently tucking the picture he’d gifted into a fold safely before you stand.

Keigo follows with ease, hand reaching to grab your bag for you like a gentleman and you thank him again.

“Do you wanna get a cup of coffee with me? When you’re free.” He doesn’t think he’s ever sounded awkward in his life, an extrovert since his early years but maybe now he actually worries about fumbling something truly special.

But you give him a dazzling smile, one larger than the first that accompanied your gratitude. Your fingers wrap around the strap of your bag just above his and Keigo feels the warmth of it seep into his own skin.

You lift the weight from his hand, rummaging through it quickly before procuring a pen. Uncapping it as you reach out for him, delicate digits wrapping around his to pull Keigo's hand forward.

“I’d love to,” a hum of a response as your scrawl digits against the back of Keigo’s hand. Stepping away when you’re finished and giving him a wave, telling him you’ve got to get to your next class. Holding your thumb and pinky up to your face with a mouthed ‘call me’ before turning completely.

Maybe soon the cork boards, hanging twine, camera rolls and external hard drives will be filled with beautiful moments of you together before long.

If all goes well, and god did Keigo hope it did as he turns in the opposite direction of you; fishing his phone from his pocket to punch in the number you’d temporarily inked into his skin.

[murdleandmarot]

@toki-toro A Skimble for you, and @mysticalcats a Foxglove for you :D

[tppart]

So I finished this portrait a few days ago and even though I very much didn't like the pencils I used I think it came out pretty neat 🙂

[earth-ambassador-jim]

Finished it! The Amulet of Daylight, folks.

[shopkeeps]

Miss All Sunday 💜

[cicadaland]

this turned out so weird but I like it anyways just as like a proof of concept of this idea. I might draw or paint this sometime in the future with some changes and i WILL because this specific scene STAYS in my mind. AND the ugly crying dog we CANNOT forget the ugly crying dog.

[vervainium]

“can you trust me now?” // watercolor & colored pencil

this issssss metaphor by the crane wives.

when i listened to the song, the opening vocals reminded me of a siren. they distract you from the rest of the song, drawing you in.

basically. “don’t look at the ugliness, just stare at the yellow and blue” so yeah!

@mysterypigeon here you go my friend, a tag!

[amygdalae]

dreamt i was in a surreal unsettling low poly indie game that does not exist

[askatriangleandastar]

guess who just got back from the theatre!

[Caption: When you traumatized but your yeezys still intact]

I get the memes now! I'm crying but I get 'em!! :,)

[beansthemusicalfruits]

can we guess who this is? 😭

[maretriarch]

i dont know what happened but for some reason a flip switched and I just. fucking hate drawing digitally these days.

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

[isabellthebitchyghost]

i am going to oil paint a jack o lantern today

[transurgender]

hhnnngg the temptation to make an OOAK doll of one of my ocs....

[ssahotchnerr]

👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!

like dad does

aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3

you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.

likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.

but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.

"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."

"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"

"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"

he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.

"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"

"a meeting."

your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"

jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."

his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.

"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."

your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"

he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.

"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."

"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.

"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."

you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.

it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.

and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.

you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.

"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.

"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"

"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."

[polarisbear]

lil creatures <3 (and some i don’t know… hermits?) (Really detailed image description below)

a drawing of geminitay, pearlescentmoon, zombiecleo, stressmonster101, and false symmetry posing in a line. they’re in their season 10 outfits or slightly altered versions of their normal skins.

gem is posing with a diamond sword across her shoulders and wormy snail, and the orange and yellow lighthouse goldfish hanging out behind her. she’s in her pirate skin with magic hair ending in water, with shark teeth, slitted eyes and claws. she has a very toothy grin and desaturated palette.

pearl is flicking up the brim of her hat while holding onto the strap of her messenger bag. pogt is peeking out behind pearl, with a messenger pigeon on her hat. she’s in her postmaster skin with an undershirt on, a jacket tied around her waist, and hiking boots. the bag has more celestial details. she has a relaxed smirk and a very warm palette.

cleo carrying atlas, an orange cat, and a tray holding enchanted books and a tall, teal glass. she has on flowers in her hair, a sleeveless button up, a torn off-the-shoulder shirt, a high-waisted pencil skirt, and dress shoes. she looks exasperated and she has a cool palette.

stress is proudly holding up a pile of mud with roots and bricks sticking out of it with madame meepless, a gray british shorthair, looking up at stress. she’s wearing a pink-purple-teal flower crown, a white shirt, overalls with patches and one leg short and the other leg tucked in her black rain boots, and a bright pink tracksuit jacket on top. she’s covered in mud and has a very vibrant color palette.

false is holding a briefcase and a diamond shovel casually, with the shovel on the ground. she has on the minister hat with red and white goggles acting as the ribbon, a red, poorly tied tie, an untucked red-and-white striped shirt, a dark green blazer with gold buttons, fancy shorts with a white 2nd shorts underneath, and brown boots with socks. she’s looking confidently off to the side and has a warm, but muted, palette.