Reader who sketches their teammates but is too nervous to show them; said teammate proceeds to snoop and discovers a masterpiece
Kyle finds you curled in the corner of the rec room with what looks like to be a sketchbook hugged up to your chest. Your pen or pencil - whatever you were using, he couldn't tell - glided across the page with what looked like effortless ease.
As he approached, you immediately closed the book. "Don't look!" You protest weakly as you stand up and hold onto your sketchbook for dear life. Kyle raises his hands in a form of surrender.
"Okay, okay! Sorry, squirt." he tries to sooth you, but you huff and stomp away with a flustered expression.
That night, Kyle decides to snoop. He grabs your sketchbook and opens it to the dog-eared page. A portrait of himself stares back at him. You drew him.
It was far from perfect, but it was you. Every stroke of your pen, every mistake - it was all you. You drew him because you wanted to - because you found inspiration in him.
He went to sleep that night with a smile on his face and planning out how to get you all the tools you need to improve.
Simon sat next to you in the humvee, eyes glancing over at your sketchbook. He's seen you bring it everywhere you go, and today was no different.
You haven't clocked him staring yet, but you have glanced over at his features a few times. Peering over your shoulder, a messy sketch of Simon stares back at him. He thinks it's beautiful - even though his one eye is scribbled out in a frustrated response to imperfection.
He smiled to himself - something he rarely does - and he rested his hand on your thigh in silent encouragement. He could see your cheeks flush, but you didn't stop your sketching.
In fact, you draw a little heart in the corner of the page for his eyes only.
Price and Johnny were walking together after sitting with you in the mess, you having drawn something on two seperate pages of your notebook. They both decided to check it out, as you were practically staring at them both the whole time.
Quietly opening the door to your quarters, Johnny murmured: "aye, I see it." Your sketchbook, wide open on your bed for the world to see. Price walks over and examines the pages, but his eyes soften when he registers it's him and Johnny.
"Our bird drew us," Price had murmured with a smile. He picked up the sketchbook and showed Johnny. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Johnny nodded and leaned in closer to examine the pages. Imperfect, but so was everything in this world. What mattered was the effort.
After that, Johnny and Price would gift you new pens and notepads almost monthly.
The moral of the story is: everyone is learning and growing. Nobody is perfect. As someone who struggles with perfectionism, it pains me to see others get accused of either tracing, using AI, or copying others' work. Especially when they're close friends of mine.
Reminder: referencing isn't tracing. For us newer writers out there: em-dashes are a real thing. Just because you see one doesn't mean that AI generated it.
When drawing, yes: it will look wrong at first. It will look messy. It will look flat-out stupid at times. But that's the amazing thing about being human - we see these mistakes and we grow from them. We learn, we thrive. So what if you have to use a reference? Most professionals use references. It's normal - it's natural.
I will not tolerate mindless souls who shit on beginner artists and writers for no fucking reason. This is why people are discouraged from doing what they love. If you are one of these people - kindly unfollow me. You are not welcome here.
@a-gh0st-d00dles ily bestie keep drawing
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