Entry tags:
'Sketches' by atomicskull (PG)
Fandom: MARVEL COMICS (AVENGERS)
Pairing: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers
Length: 1683 words
Author on LJ:
atomicskull
Author Website: Fic master list
Why this must be read:
It's a quiet, gentle piece, lovingly characterized. As much as I adore heroics and drama and tension (all varieties thereof), it's nice to slow down and and take a peek at an early morning, with Steve and Tony happy, sleepy, and (largely) angst free. Also, Steve with paper and charcoal is one of my favorite mental images.
Long, gesture lines, swoops and hard angles. The pencil is hard against the paper, leaves faint lines. All he wants is a simple sketch in lead. Outlines, really. Simple definition. When he’s done with that, he picks up the charcoal, starts in on the sketch. Little rough lines, shadows, fleshing out the sketch, giving it depth, leaving bright whites to balance it out. Tony’s hair is a mess of quick, black flicks, with just a little bit of the paper peeking through in places. His skin, shadows and highlights. Steve rubs at the charcoal with a finger, smearing it, making the marks soft and smooth. The sheet wrapped around Tony’s legs he leaves in rough lines, contrasts against the soft shades of the skin. He’s just putting the last shadows on the torso when a voice rough with sleep snakes into his reverie.
“Can I see?”
Sketches
Pairing: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers
Length: 1683 words
Author on LJ:
Author Website: Fic master list
Why this must be read:
It's a quiet, gentle piece, lovingly characterized. As much as I adore heroics and drama and tension (all varieties thereof), it's nice to slow down and and take a peek at an early morning, with Steve and Tony happy, sleepy, and (largely) angst free. Also, Steve with paper and charcoal is one of my favorite mental images.
Long, gesture lines, swoops and hard angles. The pencil is hard against the paper, leaves faint lines. All he wants is a simple sketch in lead. Outlines, really. Simple definition. When he’s done with that, he picks up the charcoal, starts in on the sketch. Little rough lines, shadows, fleshing out the sketch, giving it depth, leaving bright whites to balance it out. Tony’s hair is a mess of quick, black flicks, with just a little bit of the paper peeking through in places. His skin, shadows and highlights. Steve rubs at the charcoal with a finger, smearing it, making the marks soft and smooth. The sheet wrapped around Tony’s legs he leaves in rough lines, contrasts against the soft shades of the skin. He’s just putting the last shadows on the torso when a voice rough with sleep snakes into his reverie.
“Can I see?”
Sketches
