Flower Crayon Novels & Stories

Daiji continued, introducing the pair of Kitsune flanking them with a jerk of his head in each of their directions. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, girl. Get any angrier and you’ll be as crimson as my nails,” Navin spoke…and wiggled her fucking fingers in my face. “I got them done just before we left to come here. I wanted yellow, but I figured Soaré would be wearing the color.”

Briella giggles and holds up two fingers right in front of my face. "Very good, and I'll help you out they're this colour" I pick up the same crayon that Briella used for the hair and hand it to her. Briella draws big circles in the middle of the 'head' "And next?" I ask her, she fumbles through some of the crayons and picks up a red one, drawing a large smile underneath the eyes.

Even if my eyes were open, I could still see her vividly. I arranged my pallet until everything was set, the only thing left to do is to get the brush and strike it in different ways to present her perfectly. White, Yellow Ochre, and Cadmium Red were inviting me, just by looking at them I knew I'd get her complexion seamlessly. Her skin is fair and glossy, like white sand radiating under the heat of the afternoon sun, or almonds blanched and then peeled. I'll add Cerulean for her blush.

***************** A FEW MINUTES LATER. IN MIA'S ROOM........ "Use red, Jay Jay," Vicky said, placing a red crayon in Jay Jay's tiny hand and proceeding to color her book. The three of us are on the floor, Vicky and Jay Jay are busy with crayons and coloring books that Caleb gave to us yesterday. Vicky is doing well with hers but Jay Jay is making a mess of his book. Very funny little guy. He stared at him. He is currently staring at the red crayon in his tiny hand and like a few minutes ago, he moved it to his mouth.

a girl with braces teased her. Teasing words were now thickening the air and Mia, however hard for her to admit her feelings for V, was now blushing. "If my crush would do that to me, I would definitely bring him to heaven," a brunette girl added. "And how sure are you that you're allowed in heaven if you're too sinister?" Nichole commented. They all laughed. Mia just smiled. She did not say anything but she's definitely enjoying the moment. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What happened?" "Uncle Cas found me. Sat down on the grass even though he was wearing expensive clothes that would definitely get stained. Asked what was wrong." I smiled slightly despite my anxiety. "I told him the crayons were wrong. That night-blooming flowers weren't just white, they were silver and blue and purple all mixed together and my crayons couldn't do that." "What did he say?"

For this, I need pallet knives and wide stiff bristled brushes and vibrant yellow, phthalo blue, cerulean, cadmium red, russet, ink black, titanium white and lots of lively music to fuel my creative burst. I may be worried about what is happening with Gabriel and the press conference but I feel so darned loved and seen with him. I can’t help but feel more positive about my future. He gets me, he truly understands my needs and desires and appreciates my creativity. I pull my hair out of my face and put on music most people would never in a million years guess I love, then I push my sleeves up and start with big, bold strokes, laying out the basic shape and outline, the underpainting before I

With her big green eyes and long lashes, Elara looked like a startled deer — and the girls loved reminding her of it. "What about you, Elle? Aren't you going to draw?" Hayley asked when she noticed there were only three crayon packets in her arms. Elara's chest puffed with pride. Her friends always had new, interesting things, and today she had something to show them, too. "Here!" she took out a brand-new Little Artist crayon set from her bag, "My father got it for my birthday!" The girls soon got back to drawing their family picture as the teacher had told them to. With her small fingers, Elara neatly unwrapped her sixth birthday gift, the 24-color crayon set her father had given her just l

"Dinosaurs. Because dinosaurs are the most cool." In the store he insisted on pushing his own small cart, selecting each item from his list with meticulous care. Crayons, the twenty-four pack, because more colors meant better pictures. Folders, green and blue, because those were dinosaur colors. Pencils, the ones with dinosaur erasers on the end. And the backpack.

The crayon colors blended deeper into her fingerprints—pink, blue, brown, and green, creating a rainbow-like stain on her pale skin. Her nasal passages were completely sore. Tears welled up in her tear glands. This time, there were enough tears to flow. They spilled over from the corners of her eyes, down her cheeks, past her lips and chin, and dropped onto the painting. The tears landed on the butterfly’s left wing, creating small, wet circles on the pink crayon paint. The paint was slightly dissolved by the tears, leaving light pink streaks on the paper. “Why are you crying?” Olivia asked. Her voice sounded confused. The crayon remained in her hand, with the tip pointing downward, tremblin